This is turning out longer than I expected.
:::
"Hey girl, how you livin'?" The young mother scowled at Scout and pulled her son along, hurrying away from the lecherous mercenary.
Scout's grin dropped as he watched the blond mix into the crowd, crossing his arms across his chest. What was he doing wrong? He looked great, even combed his hair a bit, and was casually leaning against the side of a game booth, shooting out the best pick up lines he knew. Maybe it was because he didn't brush his teeth that morning.
"Hudda hudda huh!"
Oh, right.
Scout glanced over at the game, where Pyro was fishing for fake marine life using a tiny fishing pole designed for kindergarteners. The booth employee didn't seem to even notice Pyro's attire, nor the fact that Pyro had yet to stop throwing money at him for more bait, even after he already caught 42 plastic fis. It just seemed like the man with the purse enjoyed the fishing. Regardless, Scout realized this wasn't exactly the optimum spot for his babe-scouting, even though he chose it due to the traffic and the fact that it had a lot of games with cute toys, definitely an attraction factor for babes.
"Hey!" he called over, waving at Pyro. The gasmask'd man turned and tilted his head. "Why don't you go get some cotton candy for me? I think the food carts are down that way."
Scout gestured in a random direction, his other hand digging through his pocket for a few bills.
"Mmphill mpho mphtch mpheye mphshs?" Pyro asked, pointing to the pile of brightly colored plastic fishes on the counter of the booth.
"Yeah, sure. I'll watch 'em," Scout lied, nodding as he passed the money over to Pyro. His coworker returned the nod vigorously and hiked his pink purse farther up his shoulder before heading into the crowd. Scout grinned. There was no way he would get rejected now.
A thin heavy chested brunette with her shorter (uglier, Scout noted) friend walked by, and Scout jumped to the opportunity.
"Hello ladies. Wanna feel these guns?" he asked, flexing his stick arms into the girls' faces, ignoring their cringing.
:::
"I don't understand." Spy stared dully at the one seater cars bumping into one another as the drivers, mostly children, screamed. He, along with his fellow mercenaries, were waiting in line for their chance to ride the bumper cars, completely ignoring the dirty looks some parents sent them. It wasn't exactly an adult friendly ride, and the socially acceptable age limit was 19 (or 21 if you were a petite woman) but none of the middle-aged killers seemed to notice or care.
"Ya just bump people," explained Engineer, smiling fondly at the cars as he recalled times spent on the familiar ride back in Bee Cave. Next to him, Heavy watched with wide eyes, taking in the violence before him with delight as his fingers curled against the fence that separated the line from the ride. Even Medic looked interested, though it was safe to say this was because he expected some sort of bodily injury or mess to occur which may or may not involve blood.
"Right," drawled Spy. "And after you bump people?"
"Well, you bump more people," Engineer said, giving Spy a look. The Frenchman quirked an eyebrow before shrugging. He supposed he would repeatedly bump Engineer into a corner and then ask the truckie what he would do then. Spy didn't consider that Engineer had years of practice with bumper cars, had breathed and lived bumper cars since his daughter was born, and had the adapting capacity that only 11 PhDs could offer.
"Please keep arms and legs inside the vehicle," mumbled a tall lanky young woman, not even giving the adult men a double take as they walked through the open gate once a new round was starting. Engineer rushed to pick the car with the least traffic around it, a lime green monstrosity that had several scratches on its bumper from years of battle. Heavy bounced around, his short legs slow as children rushed past him for a car, before choosing a dark purple car. He fumbled with the seatbelt, frowning as it didn't lock around his large midsection before shrugging and gripping the wheel. Medic and Spy seemed to hold some sort of their quickly diminishing dignity, calmly searching for a car as children scattered around them in a flurry. Medic ended up choosing a horribly placed car facing a corner, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to figure out exactly where the reverse gear was. Spy made a beeline for a unnoticeable dark car against the side, only to meet paths with a brown-haired little boy – they both met eyes, and Spy frowned, disgusted by the uncanny resemblance to Scout. With ambition he would later pretend didn't exist, the older gentleman rushed to the car, pushing the running bucktoothed Scout lookalike out of the way.
He shot the four foot child a smug smirk, and the boy just glowered before settling for a pink car a few feet away, his eyes never leaving Spy's.
The attendant walked by briskly, eyes darting around to pretend she was checking the seatbelts, before going back to the operations booth and pulling down the lever to start the electricity.
Engineer immediately slammed on the right pedal, and made an expert turn into the rest of the vehicles. He weaved through clumsy children trapped against walls, before unleashing his wrath. The lime green one seater slammed into every car in its sight, sending them spiraling into the walls with little consequence to itself. It flew by an orange car in the corner, where Medic was repeatedly slamming on one of the pedals and turning the wheel right and left.
"Was ist das!" the German complained, trapped in the corner and growing more and more frustrated that he couldn't find how to change gears. Heavy zoomed by him, surprisingly good even though he had no driver's license, laughing as he slammed into other cars and they bumped back, not even minding that he had no idea how to control the vehicle. On the other side of the court, Spy was slowly making his way to Engineer, surprisingly avoiding all other cars, only to be bumped harshly from behind. He turned to flip off the driver behind him, only to be met with mini-Scout. The brunette smirked at him before moving back and once again slamming into Spy's car, nearly sending the Frenchman's head through the steering wheel.
Abandoning any goal of harassing Engineer, Spy let out a battle cry and slammed down his pedal, reversing into mini-Scout, before turning and going around him. Heavy's midnight purple car smashed into Spy, eliciting a scream from the backstabber and a heavy laugh from the Russian.
"Bumper cars is most fun!" cried Heavy, slamming into Spy again.
"Heavy!" breathed Spy, waving a fist at him. "Stop it you insolent-ach!" Mini-Scout bumped Spy from behind, effectively trapping the Frenchman between him and Heavy, who continued to guffaw as if Spy wasn't locked in a heated battle at the moment.
"Merde! Move your overgrown body!" Spy demanded, twisting his wheel in an attempt to free himself. He was ready to shout more French expletives when a lime green hot-rod slammed into his car's side, sending him spiraling into a corner.
"YEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAW!" Engineer zoomed by, leaving a trail of destruction and crying behind him. The only one unharmed by him when the round was over was Medic, still trapped in the corner and smashing his foot against the same pedal.
:::
Sniper frowned, watching a group of teenage boys laugh as they walked by. He had been searching for Engineer's group for nearly an hour, and had yet to find a hint of them. Sighing, the Aussie stopped to sit at a bench, stretching out his long legs. At least it was nice out, and he didn't mind much just sitting and people watching. A woman with a stroller walked by, dark hair and tanned skin, all legs in her risque knee- length skirt. She shot the Australian a smile, making her way to the bench.
"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, gesturing to the spot next to him. Sniper shrugged, trying not to grimace at the baby gurgling in the stroller. He hated kids.
"Sure, ain't saving it for no one." He scooted over, eyes wandering around what he assumed to be the food area. He wondered if he would get a corndog or something equally American, if only to complain about it later to Soldier.
The young woman breathed out, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"I like your accent," she said, shooting Sniper another smile. The mercenary shrugged again. Nah, he could just complain without eating it, Soldier wouldn't know any better.
"Is it European?" the lady tried, moving bit closer to him as her baby continued to gurgle. Sniper shook his head, sparing the woman a glance before once again looking around the crowd.
"Australian."
"Oh," the woman sounded mighty impressed, and brought her hand to her ample chest. "It's very nice." Suddenly, her baby burped, before letting out a soft whine. The woman quickly pulled a yellow binky out of her purse, not noticing Sniper's scrunched up nose, and sticking it in the baby's mouth. The sharpshooter looked away from the young mother, eyes wandering for a distraction from the lady and her bundle of vomit and shit. He caught sight of a gasmask.
"Do you live around here," started the woman, once again leaning close to Sniper, just as he shot up.
"Sorry, mate. Gotta go catch up with a friend. Nice meeting you," the Australian offered, before hurrying away. The dark haired woman frowned, crossing her arms as her baby sucked on the binky. Why were all the goodlooking ones gay?
:::
"Pyro!" Sniper made his way to the mumbling mess in overalls, who glanced at him before turning his attention back to three teenage girls. The pyromaniac was holding two cotton candy cones, his purse slung high on his shoulder, and looking a bit confused, if Sniper was right in his gasmask mood interpretation (class taught by Spy, only costs two days of dish washing, sassiness not excluded).
"Oh, ew. Is this your dad?" one of the girls laughed, a tall blond haired one, wearing a pink sweater and skirt that ended a little too high above her knees. Pyro just stared.
"Wot." Sniper blinked, looking between Pyro and the girls.
"I'm not that old," the Australian defended, frowning and crossing his arms.
"Or is it you boyfriend," another of the girls, brunette with curls and too much makeup, chimed in. The third girl, also blond, laughed, not bothering to hide her snorts.
"Hey, Pyro's my friend I don't know who told you otherwise. He's a proper good mate too, so I would just bugger off," Sniper scolded, before glancing at the mercenary. "No offense, mate. I just don't like you like that."
"Mmphmphise."
The girls laughed harder, and Sniper wondered why he suddenly felt so embarrassed, as if he was in grade school again, when Amanda Higgins told everyone he shit his pants on a class field trip to the zoo. Just because he nearly got mauled by a kangaroo and happened to fall into mud does not mean he shit his pants. Pissed, maybe, but definitely not shit.
"Why are you even wearing that mask?" mocked the head-bitch, gesturing to Pyro's gasmask with her manicured nails. "It's because you're ugly right?"
"So ugly even makeup can't fix you!" added the brunette, who Sniper mentally dubbed second bitch in command. Pyro tensed up then, and if Sniper was right (he got an A in Spy's Pyro Interpretation class so he assumed he usually was) then the short mercenary was actually effected by the girls' words.
"Why don't you wankers go bother someone your own age," shot out Sniper, moving closer to Pyro in a sense of solidarity. He didn't usually like being close to any member on the team, but he would make an exception for now. The girls turned their attention to him, and Sniper suddenly felt as if he had made a huge mistake.
"Uh, what's with the accent, grandpa? They didn't teach you to speak correctly in Kangaroo Land?" Sniper audibly gasped, offended and impressed they actually knew he was Australian.
"Why does everyone think I'm old? I'm only 34!" He was met with laughter. Sniper never hit a kid before, but there was a first time for anything.
"Aw, piss off you little pikers!" The sniper shot back.
"Mphea!" Pyro added, threatening the trio with one of the cotton candy cones.
"Yo!"
Scout was suddenly at their side, out of breath and looking very unhappy.
"I sent you to get my cotton candy like an hour ago, man! What took you so long?" The young man complained, completely ignoring Sniper.
"Oh, so this is your boyfriend!" Head-Bitch pointed out, nodding in Scout's direction while Second Bitch in Command and Silent Bitch giggled behind her. Scout, unlike Sniper, did not seem at all offended.
"Hello, ladies," he flirted, leaning over and wiggling his eyebrows, "Any of you from Tennessee?"
"Uh, no," Second Bitch in Command snarked, glaring.
"Cuz you're the only ten I see," Scout finished, grinning as his eyebrows continue to wiggle and everyone around him cringed.
"Ew, gross, you dork!" Head Bitch fretted, slapping Scout across the face with her designer purse, sending Scout into Sniper.
"You two are your ugly girlfriend can't stay here, you're gross and old and a bunch of losers," Head Bitch proclaimed. Sniper balked, pushing Scout away.
"I'm only 34!"
"Girlfriend?" blinked Scout. He glanced over at Pyro who met his eyes. They both shuddered.
The girls all did a simultaneous hair flip, before half turning to take leave.
"You guys are lame. Have you even been on any rides yet? Or are you just a bunch of chickens?"
"I know what ride I wanna try," Scout tried again, leaning toward the girls and doing his patented "oh God, why" eyebrow wiggle. He was smacked with another purse, this time into the ground.
"We're not scared!" Sniper defended. "Or old! We'll ride anything here, you name it." Pyro tried to reach out for Sniper's shoulder to stop him from engaging the already leaving girls, but the cones in his hand made it impossible. The bitches stopped, and shared a smirk.
"The Dustbowl Killer." With that dramatic title, Head-Bitch pointed at the only adult rollercoaster in the park, a series of loops and high drops, sitting all the way across the park and above all other rides.
"We can do that," Scout boasted, puffing out his chest. Sniper nodded, gaining confidence from the little shit.
"Yeah, no problem."
Pyro was now shaking his head and nudging the two with the cotton candy, but they took no head.
"Then go," Head-Bitch stated plainly, smiling. "Go, I dare you."
"Uh."
"Mmphets mphrt mphut mphll mphrst," Pyro hinted, tugging at his teammates.
"Yeah!" agreed Scout, not getting Pyro's subtext. "We'll do it last, after we prepare, ya know?" Sniper nodded.
"Right. We'll go on it last, after we ride everything else."
"Fine! We'll see you at the Dustbowl Killer in three hours. If you're not there, then you just prove you're a bunch of chickens!" With that, the girls did a simultaneous hairflip again and left. Scout stared after, watching their backsides and perhaps convincing himself they were 18 and totally legal.
"Mmpow mphee mphn mmply mphmes," Pyro sighed, holding the cotton candy cones out to Scout and Sniper. Sniper took it without thinking and bit out a huge chunk with a grumble.
"Games? C'mon mate, we don't got time for that. Let's show those wankers that not only are we not scared, but young and-"
"Yeah, yeah," brushed off Scout, grabbing the other cotton candy from Pyro and shoving most of it in his mouth.
"Let's do this," he managed to get out between chews, heading in the direction of the rides. Sniper followed along, munching on his own cotton candy as Pyro just shook his head and dragged his feet behind them.
:::
Sniper and Scout getting harassed by three teenage girls. Seems about right.