RED had been intruded by the very target of the count-off.
That had never, EVER happened before.
Everyone's necks nearly cracked off in a lurching jolt as Sniper-the-center-of-attention leaned against a doorway, smiling innocently.
It was an agreement - almost a team law - that once something was said there must be at least one comeback to it. Awkward silences weren't common in a room of nine, and it seems as if the last time they'd all been quiet was when they'd been having a who-can-hold-their-breath-longest contest or a Medic-hosted Quiet Game. Even a sneeze demanded attention; a "gesundheit" here and a "wipe your nose" there. For someone like Heavy or Pyro, to which talking is somewhat of a hassle, it was logical for a word to pop out less often. But to see Soldier and Scout being quiet for once - at a question, too - was about the strangest thing anyone could ever see.
The corners of Sniper's lips drooped and he jerked about awkwardly for a moment as if to check if time itself had frozen still. "Oi," he grumbled. "How come no one's sayin' anythin'?"
After a minute of complete silence and only stares, Sniper groaned in resentful recognition. "Oh, wow. Don't tell me. Moi fly's undone again..." A hand patted about to check for an available zip-up. When nothing felt out of the ordinary, he let out a satistfied little "Hm." Then Sniper noticed everyone's eyes still darted about hesitantly in the same way than before, so he knew a greater force was at hand.
He frowned. "Stop this weird-arse prank and tell me whot's goin' on, would ya?"
The issue was taken head-on, and no one had the slighest notion of how and what to respond.
Except the most charismatic backstabber in all the base.
"So, Heavy," began Spy dutifully, turning away from his forlorn ex-friend. "How do you do, my fair aquaintance?"
What a betrayal.
Another teammate casually glanced at Spy and nodded as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all; "Hi. Ees good." Heavy formed a friendly little smile.
Sniper frowned. "Stop it. It's not funny."
Though Heavy's eyes darted onto Sniper for half of a second, his logic went poof and he continued his charade with Spy. "Ah...what ees good in your day life? Any new s'heeng? Yes, no, maybe so?"
The words were stretched out as if he were purposely trying to make his fellow Aussie feel completely neglected; "Oh, yeeeees, I am quite acertained I so dooooo 'ave somes'hing neeeew!" snapped Spy in his usual coqueting way, slight smile softening the sentence. The next sentence was said with eyes locked onto Sniper's; "I just can't buh-lieeeeve zhat no one noticed I got my suuuuit preeesssssssed!"
What a loud dramatization that followed; "All for noooothiiiiiiing! Oh, sacre bleeeeeuuuuuu!" - the back of Spy's hand raised to his mask dramatically and both eyes rolled up as if he were about to faint - "Whaaaaat a disaaasterrr!"
Teeth bared and eyes glowering, Sniper had the enraged qualities of a drunk driver and conveyed the booming voice of a strangled choir; "HEY! OI DID! THIS BLOODY MORNING!"
"Wow, dat's REALLY bad that NO ONE NOTICED, Spy!" Scout's lips were squeezed together in a twitchy almost-smile, making it quite obvious that if the young man hadn't controlled himself with every drop of his self-restraint he would have burst into roaring laughter. "...I-I mean, wh-when someone doesn't compl'ment you ALL MORNING that's r-really...DEPRESSIN'!" A giggle flew out and soon enough Scout was cannonading into howls with tears rolling down his cheeks. "HAW HAW HAW HAW, OH MAAAAN!"
"WHOT TH' HELL IS UP WIT ALL OF YOU?" Sniper growled like that of a wild animal, bringing two grappling knuckles to his side. "OI BLOODY HATE THIS SHONKY TEAM! OI DON'T EVEN KNOW WHOT OI DID AND LOOK AT YOU ALL IGNORIN' ME! OI'M A PERSON! OI'M A LIVING BEIN' AND YER ALL TREATIN' ME LOIKE DIRT! TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU! HOW DARE YOU!? HOW DARE YOU!?"
No one responded. Scout immediately shut up. Internally the REDs all fought instincts to run or hide or possibly even apologize from such a predator.
"No reaction?" grumbled Sniper, bloodshot eyes growing in size. "NO REACTION? NO REACTION?
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGH!" The squeak of a chair sounded for a brief moment before an earsplitting clomp filled the room. One of the kitchen chairs had zoomed through the air and crashed straight into the tile wall with the loudest noise any of them had ever heard - and they work in a military base, so that's saying a lot.
As soon as the team's ears recovered their heads flew towards Sniper, whose foot was drawn out in an ideal kicking position and whose chest rose and fell with every vicious breath.
Sniper jittered a smile over to the awed group, though his eyes glowed with vengeance. "...S-so y-yer not gonna do anything about th-that either?" A bit of spit was forming at the corners of his grin as if he desperately needed to be institutionalized. "Y-yer just gonna s-sit there? Loike nothin' e-ever happened?" His chin rose up as his lips revealed more of his yellowed teeth. "N-no big deal. Y-yer...n-none of you are gonna make a-any reaction t'anything, Oi see? Ah...ahehehe...heh..." At first it began as a devastatingly awkward chuckle but soon arose into full-fledged crowing. "HEH HEH HA HA HA! HEH AAAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA!"
Everyone was dying to scream, cry, do something - but it was against policy of the 'we-counted-off-so-now-you-either-ignore-Sniper-or-stick-a-toothpick-up-yours' rule, though it was never declared officially. The in-your-facey conversations against the bushman appeared to be a horrible idea, for now everyone on the team was glitched into their poses much like a very successful game of Freeze Dance. Other than an occasional gulp from beneath a tight uniform's neck seam, the room's inhabitants were drowned by evil Australian wheeze-laughter.
There was one very important mistake the team did not realize before completely mocking the 43-year-old pervert.
Sniper, whose anger problem was most likely clogging itself in his arteries at the moment, possessed a power - and split personality disorder - like no other.
Though most humans could read body language by perhaps a smile or a tear or a flick of the brows, some hazardous piss fetishists could sense fear like a bloodhound; sadly enough, this hazardous piss fetishist managed to sport sunglasses and a fashionable hat, and somehow he'd gotten into a team of people just as insane as he was.
The very scent of a fast heart pulse made Sniper direct his insanity toward a certain someone with a Sherlock hat atop his head. Scout, who was shaking in his cleats so hard his teeth were a molar xylophone, was secretly wishing for death as his fate was then very apparent.
Sniper, grinning from ear to ear like the mad hatter he was, stepped towards Scout with eyes so big they hardly left any room on his forehead for his arched brows. "Hello there, Mister Detective," he hissed, rasp in his voice accompanying his bloodthirsty expression.
Scout then proved that hamsters aren't the only animals capable of earsplitting squeaks.
"Ya scared?" The corners of Sniper's grin twitched slightly as did his left eyelid. "Ya...yer scared, aren't you? Ha ha ha."
His team did nothing to protect the poor Bostonian. Poor Scout whirled his head about to see his team frozen in place like meserized chesspieces. "HELP!" he squealed, regretting his sentence a moment later.
"Help? HELP? Oi don't think so!" continued the bushman with the face of a drooling undead. He reached into his pocket and dug out a convienient silver kukri - God knows why he had one on hand - and raised it up. "Unless you want me to CUT A BLOODY SMOILE INTO YOU" - the blade neared Scout's nose - "TELL ME WHOT'S THE BLOODY REASON FO - "
It appears that the law of count-offs can be broken in dire situations, and this situation was more than dire enough.
Just then, a piercing shriek rang through the air.
It wasn't Scout's.
Their heads swerved from Sherlock to Captain America, who was charging at Sniper with mop high above his head as if it were a medieval mace. Soldier swung the feminine artillery down and whacked Sniper so hard with its greasy tendrils that the poor man flopped down onto his bum and the kukri was sent flying into the air. Sniper, who awoke back into his regular smirky state, clutched his dented hat and screamed, "WHOT TH' HELL?!" The kukri clanked down onto the kitchen tile.
The first of many dominos had fallen;
"YOU ARE A HIPPIIIIIIIE! I DO NOT ACCEPT HIPPIES ON MY TEAM!" The mop pointed at poor Sniper, who jerked his neck back as the tip of the wood nearly clashed against his glasses. "I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY ALLOW IN THAT KANGAROO COURT OF YOURS BUT DAMNIT - IN THE NAME OF SAXTON HALE, I WILL KICK YOU RIGHT OUT OF RED ON YOUR SORRY TREE-HUGGING ASS AND INTO A SEWER GRATE!"
And thus a ruckus was born. Chaos and mayhem were brought into the world. In a record time of 26 seconds, too!
The first 13 seconds were spent as a German explosion of fury, for the chance to finally screech like a madman had come about. Medic scurried over to Sniper, who cringed with butt on the floor, screaming "YAH LYING IDI-AAHT COWARD FOTZE! VHY DIDN'T VE DO ANYZING TO GET YOU OFF ZA TEAM YET!? VHAT IST ZA REASON YOU EVEN GOT ACCEPTED!? YOU AH A DIS-GRACE!" Maybe words weren't enough, because Medic almost cracked his neck throwing his head back in the loudest yell that could ever have been produced. "AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRCHHHHHHH!"
Medic wasn't alone in his shrieks, because Pyro really could scream under that mask. "GMMD THNMMG MN MND SHMMRLCK FMMND MMT YMM WHMMR MM HMMPHIE! YMMH FMMGHT!"
"YEAH! PYRO'S FUCKIN' RIGHT!" added Scout. "YER A FUCKIN' IDIOT AND I HATE YOU AND PLUS NO ONE EVAH LIKED YA SINCE WE JOINED AND NOW AT LEAST WE HAVE A REASON WHY! I WONDAH WHERE YA HIDE YER DRUGS. PRO'LLY WIT YER THREE SWIMSUIT MAGAZINES!"
One must wonder why Engineer thought it was a good idea to hush the room by adding to the noise. "CAAALLLMMM DOWWWWN! CALM THE HELL DOWN! EVERYTHIN' WILL BE ALL NAHCE AN' ORD'RLY IF WE CAN CAAAAALLMMMNNN...DOOOOWWWWNN!"
Poor Sniper's eyes darted from person to yelling person as the seconds ticked from 14 to 15.
By 16, Demoman's alcoholic fury kicked in. His eye glowed with cyclops fury; "AH'LL...AH'LL FOOCKIN'...AH'LL FOOCKIN' MAKE A SOUP OUTTA YE GUTS AND FEED IT T'...T' THE PIGS, AYE. AN' THEN THEY EAT IT IN TH' TROUGH AN' TH'N THEY BE MAKIN' A REALLY BIG FUSS B'CAUSE THEY...th-they're..." He realized he'd messed up his favorite barline slur, but no matter. "YER FACE IS UGLY AS PIG ARSE."
19 on the clock and Soldier was running out of both insults and breath. No worries, though, because nothing could stop him as he finally had a chance to list synonyms for his least favorite minorities; "BEATNIK! DRUGGIE! LIBERAL! FLOWER CHILD! CANADIAN!"
"You could have told me you did hemp!" snapped Spy to make a sort of duet with Soldier's ongoing archetype-bombardment. "You are filzhier zhan I could 'ave ever imagined! Sick, you are! SICK AND UNPROFESSIONAL!"
Heavy was a bit lost. "I DO NOT KNOW VHAT VE ARE YELLING ABOUUUUUUUT!"
Sniper's head throbbed and he couldn't decipher a single word of the entire conversation. "Wh-whot are all a'...?"
"TREE-HUGGER! COMMIE! DROP-OUT! GYPSY!"
"FELLAS! CAAAAAAAALM DOOOOOOOOOWN!"
"I HAAATE YOUUU, REPULSIVE BUSHMAN!"
"YA SHOULD FUCKIN' DIE! I FUCKIN'...YER A FUCKIN' DOITSBAG, 'KAY? 'CAUSE, LIKE, HOW LONG WAS WE ON DA SAME TEAM AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW DAT?! WOW, LIKE, WOW!"
"HMMR MMH? YMM'RH MM FMMCKNMGH FMMGHMT!"
"HAIRY HIPPIE! HIPPIE! YOU...YOU HIPPIE! HIPPIEEEEEE!"
"AN'...AN' TH' PIGS'RE GOONA GIT A BIG TUMMYACHE AFT'R EATIN' YA!"
"VHY DID I EVAH HEAL YOU IN ZA FIRST PLAAAACE!? VASTE OF MY TALENT!"
Poor Heavy still had no clue. "LOUUUUUUUUUUUUUD NOIIIIIIIIIISESSSSSSSSS!"
It was only a matter of time before the 26 seconds of bedlam were done-and-done. Soon enough everyone was done with their insult barrage and were huffing angrily.
Everyone waited for Sniper to respond.
Sniper cleared his throat.
He sniffed.
He paused.
"Er...whot exactly did Oi do?"