Just a small piece about some of the mercs being silly. If there's some wacky adventure you're interested in reading about, let me know in reviews!
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"Nah, c'mon man, I could definitely take Spy."
"I don't know, lad. He's got quick feet."
"Quick feet? Have you seen me? I can run circles around that bastard."
"So he just has to trip you."
"No! Put me above the doc at least! Yo, Pyro!"
Pyro paused on his way down the hall, glancing into the common room. Scout and Demoman were lounging on the ratty couches in the Coldfront base, paper spread out in front of them on the coffee table. A bottle of Scrumpy was unopened and half-full.
"Mmph?"
"You think you can take Engie in a fight?"
Pyro blinked from behind his mask. He was surprised to see Scout actually sitting in one place - usually on ceasefire days he was running around making it his job to harass everyone. Then again, the snowstorm had been raging since the night before, with no sign of letting up, and the heat was on full blast in the base. It left the rooms feeling much cozier than usual, and perhaps even Scout realized today was more for relaxing than causing a ruckus.
"I'd say that silence is a no," supplied Demo, snickering to himself as he scribbled on his sheet. "What about Engineer versus Medic?"
"Engie," replied Scout nodding his head, "Doc is old as balls. He'd probably throw out his back in a fist fight."
"Mmye mphink mphngie mphis mmphlder mphn mmphmic," Pyro commented, making his way over to the duo and sitting next to Demo on the couch. "Mmut mphr mpyo mpys mphoing?"
"No way, really?" blinked Scout, ignoring Pyro's question. "I'd say Engie is like...47. Doc? Sixty, hands down."
"I dunnae, Pyro may be right. Or maybe they're the same age," remarked Demo rubbing his chin. He glanced over at Pyro who was examining the paper.
"We're making a chart to see who would win in a fight. Wanna help us, lad?"
"Mmpye mphre mpho mphond?" Pyro pointed to Demoman's name scribbled under Heavy's, apparently making the Scotsman the second best hand-to-hand fighter in the group. Demoman let out a laugh, as if it were obvious.
"Cuz I'd be able to whoop any of yer arses, other than Heavy. No offense, laddie." Pyro tilted his head, glancing over at Scout. The runner shrugged.
"I tried arguing for second, man. Drunk bastard really thinks he can beat me."
"Mmpye mphink mmpler mphod mphy mmpv mpho," Pyro contested. Demoman shot him an incredulous look.
"Yer kidding, right? I could whoop that American in any weather, at any time of day! He can barely see past his helmet!" Demo defended, aghast at the prospect of Soldier being able to beat him in a fight.
"Mphy mphs mmphtary mphraining mpho," Pyro continued, shrugging his shoulders. Demo shook his head as Scout started laughing under his breath.
"C'mon Pyro, ya really think Soldier, our Soldier, crazy as hell, was actually accepted into the military? I'm sure he hasn't even been outside of America. In fact, I'm certain 99% of what he tells us is bullshit!" Scout enlightened the naive and trusting pyromaniac. Demoman nodded.
"He's right, lad. I'll bet you all me Scrumpy, in this bottle anyway, that that fool's never stepped on a military training field, American or otherwise."
"Hey, fellas, does anyone know who's turn it is to take out all the trash?" Engineer poked his head into the room, hardhat missing but dark goggles covering his eyes.
"Definitely not mine."
"Not me, I can promise ye that."
"Mmpnno."
Engineer frowned, slowing walking into the room.
"Well, the schedule's missing. Now, I know it's all fun to mess around the base, but the schedule has everyone's chores on it. I don't suppose someone is hiding it?" He sent a pointed look to Scout who was pretending to examine his nails in disinterest.
"Ah c'mon Engie," Scout commented, "ever since that near death experience with the avalanche, and the wolves, and the frogs, I'm way more serious. I would never intentionally hide the chore schedule in Archimedes cage or nothin'." Realizing his slip up, Scout immediately jumped up, laughing as if he told a joke.
"Nope, not me. Hey Engie, wanna help me and Demo? You think you could beat Pyro in hand ta hand?" The American ranted, throwing an arm around Engineer's shoulders and slowly leading the older, not amused, man toward the couch.
"What kind of question is that?"
"We're making a list of who fights best without weapons," claimed Demoman, holding up the sheet of scribbles and crossouts. Engineer leaned forward to get a better look, eyebrows furrowed.
"Now this just ain't right. Scout's supposed to be at the bottom," commented Engineer casually, picking up Demo's discarded pencil to write Scout's name at the bottom of the page.
"What? Uh excuse you," Scout piped up, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's a reason I'm third buddy, okay? I kick ass, unlike you hidin' behind ya' machines all day."
"And Demo, if anything, you and Soldier should be on the same level. I'd reckon it'd be a tie," continued Engineer, seemingly ignoring the runner at his side. Pyro nodded in agreement, shooting the engineer a thumbs up of approval as Demoman stared in shock, mouth slightly hung open.
"Are ye out of yer mind?"
"Hm. And here, I'd put Spy above Sniper. Pyro above Spy. And...actually, I think that should even it out," Engineer finished, straightening up with a smile. The new list read, from top to bottom: Heavy, Demoman/Soldier, Engineer, Medic, Pyro, Spy, Sniper, Scout.
"No freakin' way," snapped Scout, snatching the pencil from Engineer and crossing out his name from the bottom. Instead, he wrote it boldly above Engineer's, smirking in triumph.
"Now, that's more like it, hardhat." Engineer shrugged.
"That don't really change anything Scout. I'd still put you at the bottom in a fist fight," the Texan remarked, standing toe to toe with the Bostonian who was now fuming in his face.
"I have seven brothers, man. I would mess. You. Up," Scout declared, shoving a finger into Engineer's chest with the last three words. Engineer frowned, looking ready to smack Scout with his metal hand for invading his personal space.
"Mmph mph!" The two turned their attention to Pyro, who now had created a new list, Demo looking on while downing the rest of his Scrumpy. In the pyromaniac's neat handwriting, the no-weapons-throw-down list was written in the corner of the page.
"That's a buncha of bullshite, I tell ye'," Demo commented, slamming his bottle onto the table. "None of ye' know anything about true fightin'. Real, rip a man's throat out if he looks at ye' funny at the bar, fightin'!"
"What the hell Pyro!" exclaimed Scout, grabbing the paper away and glaring at it. "This looks completely dumb!"
"It's not too bad..." commented Engineer, scratching at his stubble as he leaned closer to Scout to go over Pyro's ranking.
"Mmy mphink mphis mmhrmik!" Pyro gloated, crossing his arms and nodding surely. Before long, the four were crowded around the coffee table, snatching the pencil back and forth, attempting to create a perfect "fight club" list. Needless to say, a ranking in hand-to-hand combat would most likely never be finalized.
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So, what would your list be? Share it in reviews, I'd love to see everyone's opinion! :D