"Now I've seen everything."~ The Engineer in a stalemate.
Chapter 3: Welcome to the club
The team couldn't believe what they were seeing. The walls around them were as white as snow; statues of possibly other Smashers littered the hallway. One was a mouse-like creature, another of a plumber with a mustache, and a young medieval teenager with sword and shield in hand. Down the hall was a flag hosted above a large door. The flag had what appeared to be lines inscribed in a circle, sort of forming a 4 on it.
"This here is our main HQ." Samus began, breaking the silence.
"Mighty fine place you got here," The Engineer spoke out. "I gotta hand it to your boss. He sure knows how to decorate the Christmas Tree."
Samus chuckled. "You haven't even seen the party."
She walked down a left turn.
"This takes you to the barracks." She pointed.
Then she went to the right turn.
"This takes you to the cafeteria."
Then she went back to the center hall.
"And this takes you to the courtyard. Further on beyond that is the arena."
"Arena?" The Heavy asked, an evil grin forming on his face.
"What, you thought this'd be a 5-star resort?" Laughed the woman in the Power Suit.
"Aw, I remember Arena mode. Blood being split everywhere, maggots begging for their superiors to spare them. It was the true art of War." The Soldier spoke daydreaming.
"Oh, sure," The Spy began sarcastically. "What fun getting JARATE on my suit!" He stomped foot in anger, remembering the numerous times a Sniper threw his filthy jars at him. Oh, how he hated them for that. At lest it gave him more reasons to backstab them. Of course, that also gave the Snipers more reasons to have Razorbacks.
"Yawl's matches begin in 12 hours, so be sure to rest and train." Samus said, leaving the party to be.
The Heavy's stomach growled as soon as she left. Everyone knew what the big muscle was gonna say before he spoke.
"Sandvich." Was all he said, predictably. He started down the right hall.
"I think I'll join lugnut here. Haven't had much to eat this mourning." The Scout ran off, racing the Heavy to the café.
The Medic noticed the Spy heading toward the bunkers. "Tired, double agent?"
The Spy turned. "Not really. I just need to do some research."
The Medic raised an eyebrow. "Zit has to do with ze match, doesn't zit?"
The Spy sighed. "But of course. We have no idea who or what we're dealing with. For now, I'll look for information about the other operatives." With that, he walked off.
"I have to agree with pretty boy, here," The Engineer began. "I ain't in favor of having my machines hacked or sapped. I'll set up security at our bunkers. Might keep a few rats out."
The Engineer went down the left hall, followed by the Demoman. The latter sung in a slurred voice before (literally) running into his room's door. The Medic laughed as the Scottish Cyclops fought the doorknob, in his drunken state. Finally he got it opened and entered the room, but not before shouting:
"All yah dandies prancin' aboot with ya heads full of eyeballs!"
The door slammed. The Medic heard the Sniper's uncontrollable laughter. That was short-lived as The Soldier leg-swept the Sniper, knocking him to the ground.
"Aye, what the bloody hell was that for?" He shouted.
The Soldier grunted. "It's about time you came out of hiding in that van, maggot. Down and give me 20 pushups, private Twinkle-Toes."
The Sniper growled as he did the excurse on the pearl light-grey floor.
"When you're down," The Soldier said as the watcher was on his 8th round. "We're heading the arena. You'll learn how to fight man-to-man today, and you'll be sure to sweat blood!"
He grabbed the Sniper on the neck (Who on his 14th round.) and dragged him down the main hall. Some of the other Smashers gave them "WTF?" looks on their faces. All that was left of the group now was The Medic and The Pyro.
"Zhat vow?" The Medic asked.
The Pyro shrugged, then when to the courtyard. The Medic sighed.
Perhaps Zhey are in veed of a doctor? The healer thought as he went down to the barracks.
11:50 Hours before the match
"Vait, Scout goes wrong way!" The Russian cried out.
"Come on, come on!' The batter shouted behind his back. "Man, you should 'a' lost some weight!"
"Killing babies is fulltime job!" The Heavy shouted back. "Vhat else is there to do?"
The Scout shook his head. The behemoth might have muscle, but not much speed. It's always the tough guys that are slow. The Scout saw a small line up ahead. At the front was a mustached man in a red plumber's suit, much like one of the statues at the entrance In the middle was a boy around his age, wearing some sort of white clothing around him. The strangest thing about him was that he had wings. The last person was actually a fox in some sort of space suit, most likely for dogfights. The Scout went into the line as soon as the first two left, leaving the fox. As soon as he got his food (Which consisted of weird looking fruits. Or were they vegetables?), The Scout got himself some milk, pancakes, apples, and beacon. All the Heavy got was a Sandvich and some apple cider. As soon as they found a seat, the Heavy was already mowing down his food.
"Sandvich make me strong!" The Heavy shouted as he took a bite.
The Scout rolled his eyes.
9:28 Hours before the match
The Sniper growled.
"About time I went back to scoping." The Sniper muttered as he sniped a hologram that looked like a fore-armed mutant made of stone. Next one to fall was a man in a jumpsuit with a red R on it. Then an overlord with twin katana. The list went on. It was only when he felt a fist punch him that he stopped.
"GAUH! WHO-" Before he could continue, he was knocked off the platform by someone.
The Sniper looked up to see a man in a futuristic racing jumpsuit, wearing a spiked helmet.
"Huh, that all you got, sitting duck?" He laughed.
The Sniper got back up, pointing his Rifle at the man.
"Go to hell, wanka!" He shouted, firing.
The bullet bounced off the man like light on a mirror.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!" Was he could say before the man kicked him in the chin, sending him flying.
"FLACON-KICK!"
8:01 hours before the match…
"And, done!" The Engineer replied as he clicked on the mouse.
Out of his Dispenser came a robotic hand (Gunslinger), a small device with a satellite dish (Wrangler), a slightly modified Shotgun (Frontier Justice), a Golden Wrench, and a bladed wrench (Southern Hospitality). It cost him 20 coins, but it was worth it, especially for what was coming. The Spy meanwhile was on his own computer in his room, studying the other Smashers. The Engineer came in.
"Any sappers I should worry about?" He asked, his arms crossed.
The Spy looked at him. "Perhaps a few. I'll send you the info I've gathered via E-Mail."
The builder nodded. "Got it."
The Spy went back to his work as his ally left. He looked at his current list.
"These Smashers are an odd sort, that's for sure." The Spy grumbled to himself.
5:59 hours before the match…
"Thanks a lot-a doc!" Shouted a skinny man in a green plumber's suit.
"Jawohl." Replied the Medic.
The skinny man ran down the hall. Turned out that they actually didn't have much of a doctor, besides that Mario fellow, but he only filled in occasionally. Now that he was here, everyone came to get checked up. This not only gave them proper medical treatment, but it also made a gave The Medic a reputation among them. He even worked with "Doctor Mario" an hour ago, but the latter left for training, Figures, almost everyone else would rather be in the battle field.
The Medic looked at the clock on the wall. Only 5 hours and 34 minutes before the match. As he heard the door open, he looked to he is next patients: The Sniper and The Soldier. The Sniper looked like he had his leg twisted backwards in a cartoonish style while the Soldier was knotted into a pretzel.
"Zood lord! Vhat in heavens happened to Zu two!" He gasped.
The Sniper growled. "Some wanker snuck up on me. Called himself "Captain Flacon" or some other bloody stupid name."
"And that Samus bitch did this to me before I even fired!" THE Soldier snapped, before he felt another bone shatter, causing him to scream. The Medoc sighed.
2:11 Hours before the match…
The Demoman awoke from his long, drunken nap. He looked around franticly, wondering where the hell he was. Then he remembered the past events. Sighing in relief, he whipped his forehead, and turned to the clock. He shrieked at the time: 2 hours before the match.
"BLOODY HELL! WHAT AM I DOING!" He shouted as he charged off to the arena. "I should 'a' been working out me bombs!"
10 minutes before the match.
The Pyro sat on a bench by the simulator, waiting for his team. He recently finished burning up all the targets in the area, set up by that elfish teenager. He somewhat reminded him as The Scout, only less cocky. HE certainly was odd person. Come to think of it, the Smashers are a bunch of weirdoes. He doozed off for the rest of the time being before hearing an alarm go off.
ATTENTION! ALL SMASHERS ARE TO REPORT TO THE ARENA!
The next thing the Pyro knew, the entire room was filled up. He looked to see his team by him.
"Hello again, demon." Chuckled the Spy.
" Hpthts unwhn un? (What's going on?)" Asked the Pyro.
"Ze match is starting." The Medic replied, pointing up at the door leading to the arena. Above was a screen, showing flashing icons of some sort. Both halves had a sort of pinwheel fuction going, most likely for randomizing fighters.
"THE ENGINEEER!" A male voice spoken, one like the usually kind used by advertisements. It
"VS!"
The other 'wheel' stopped, revealing a yellow mouse-like creature.
"PIKACHU!"
The Engineer's jaw dropped. "Aw, hell." He swore out loud.