-Ambush!-
The helicopter was one of the fastest in the entire world, even carrying 12 fully armed Marines and a fat Weyland advisor who looked like he may keel over any second.
Tom Scarr, helicopter pilot glanced back at the very fat man sweating like a pig and probably getting ready to blow chunks all across the chopper floor.
"Sir, are you ok?"
He took his eye off the prize for an instant, and a rocket proppeled grenade slammed into the engine.
Smoke and fire blazed, the chopper spun out of control, Tom was dead, the lake swallowed the flaming wreck whole.
Quartermaster disengaged the RPG hand attachment, letting it drop to the forest floor.
"Not in my forest, not tonight."
He drawled, stalking towards where the chopper had been heading, the flowerscouts camp.
If they were prepared for him, it didn't matter, he had just the thing for those brats.
Tear gas.
Lots of it.
He drew the launcher attachment from what he referred to as "Meat Space", an interdimensional storage place where most of his important stuff resided.
"Plonk!"
The first canister shattered the main window of the main cabin, which was where he assumed they were hiding out.
He was mildly surprised when a tiny arm brandishing a gun lashed out the broken window, unleashing a rain of plastic bb's on him.
"Your turn."
He nodded to the Platypus. which scurried towards the window as yellow gas began billowing from the cabin. It took all of a minute to force the 2 young girls from the cabin, coughing and choking on their own spit.
The Platypus was dragging a familar canister with its beak out the door, the Quartermaster cracked a rare smile.
"The world is safe for another night."