Grif, Simmons, Fong, and Hanby were on top of Red Base. Patterson then walks up from the ramp
Fong: Ended up killing random hooker for some reason.
Simmons: Hey, that's not exactly what happened.
Grif: Yes, it is. You said, "I'm not going to the Vegas quadrant," and then the next thing we know you're growling and in an escape pod headed for-
Patterson: Hey guys, where's Sarge?
A man in normal red (Donut) was behind Patterson.
Donut: Hello sirs.
Grif: What? (turns to Donut) Ah crap.
Donut: I was told to report to Blood Gulch Outpost Number One and speak to whoever's in charge.
Grif: Sorry man, Sarge is at Command getting orders. Ain't nobody in charge today.
Fong: Yeah, we can do any shit we want till 'bout he comes back and shit.
Simmons: Actually, Privates, he left me and Hanby in charge while he's gone, and gave me the lead to terminate you when you won't listen.
Hanby: Yeah the two; 2nd in commands.
Grif: You guys are such a kiss-ass.
Fong: Wait, Aren't I also a 2nd in command?
Donut: Three 2nd in commands? That doesn't make sense.
Hanby: No, last time you were 2nd in command you strapped Sarge's chair.
Fong: Oh please, that was just a harmless prank.
Donut: Your Commanding Officer demoted you for a whoopie cushion? Sounds like a sore looser.
Simmons: Strapping Sarge's chair with a bomb is harmless?!
Donut: Oh.
Fong: A prank that he survived, So harmless.
Hanby: A fokin' Landmine ran through his ass!
Fong: (muttered) It was pretty funny though.
Simmons: Also, he told me if I had any trouble from you I should... (clears throat then poorly imitates Sarge) "Git in the Warthog, and crush yer head like a tomato-can."
Patterson: What... The... Fuck? The fuck was that?
Grif: That's the worst impression I've ever heard. Of all time!
Washington: (sneezes) Achooooo! Huh?
Hanby: It's like hearing a skinny nerd try to fuck a doorknob.
Fong: Did you just revert back to puberty just doing a southern accent?
Grif: Woah, we don't wanna mention that guy again. (muttering) Ever since the incident.
Simmons: O-okay okay okay, rookie, what's your story?
Donut: Private Donut reporting for duty, sir. I'm ready to fight some aliens.
Fong: Sorry bud, there ain't no aliens here just' a bunch of blue guys.
Donut: D'aww man... Least we can fight them, right?
Grif: Couple things here, rookie. First off, Private Donut? I think somebody needs a new nickname. Secondly, what's with the armor color?
Donut: This IS the standard issue red.
Grif: Yeah, I know. Listen. Only two kinds of people wear standard issue armor: officers and recruits. And since you're not threatening to gut me like a fish, you're probably not an officer.
Donut: (looks at Simmons, Hanby and Patterson) Well, they're wearing red armor.
Simmons: No, my armor is maroon.
Hanby: Like the drink: Wine.
Patterson: And Mine is crimson, yours is red.
Donut: Well, how do I get a different color armor?
Simmons: I bet the blues don't have to put up with this kind of crap.
Church, Tucker, and a soldier in standard issue blue (Caboose) are looking at a tank.
Caboose: So I say to the guy, "How're you gonna get the tank down to the planet?" And he goes, "I'll just put it on the ship," and I go, "If you've got a ship that can carry a tank, why not just put guns on the ship and use it instead?"
Tucker: Hey, kid.
Caboose: Yeah?
Tucker: You're ruining the moment. Shut up.
Caboose: Oh. Okay. You got it man!
Church: You know what? I could blow up the whole god damn world with this thing.
Cut to the Reds.
Simmons: Okay, Private Donut, here's the deal.
Grif: I just refuse to call him Private Donut!
Hanby: Alright Private Innuendo. How 'bout that?
Simmons: We've got a very important mission for you. You think you can handle it?
Donut: Absolutely!
Simmons: We need you to go to the store, and get two quarts of elbow grease.
Grif: Yeah and uh, pick up some headlight fluid for the Puma too.
Fong: A-a headlight fluid?
Donut: The what?
Simmons: He means the Warthog.
Fong: The fucks' a headlight fluid?
Grif: You do know where the store is, right, Rookie?
Donut: What? Yeah, yeah, of course I do. Sure, no problem.
Simmons: Well, get going then.
Donut: Oh okay then, I'll be off now.
Patterson: Bye! Don't die!
Donut starts running across the base.
Simmons: Other way.
Donut turns around and goes the other way.
Donut: I knew that. Just got turned around that's all.
Everyone watched Donut running off into the Gulch.
Simmons: How long do you think until he figures out there's no store?
Grif: I say... at least a week.
Donut runs through the Gulch, stops, and turns to talk to himself.
Donut: Elbow grease... How stupid do they think I am? Once I get back to base with that headlight fluid, I'm gonna talk to the Sergeant, and get me a codename.
Cut to the Blues.
Tucker: You know what? Forget what I said before. We can definitely pick up chicks in this thing. Probably two or three chicks a piece.
Church: Oh man, listen to you. What're you gonna do with two chicks?
Tucker: Church, women are like Voltron: The more you can hook up, the better it gets.
Cunningham: Yeah... The better ways to get LSDs.
A soldier in blue sky colored armor (Scott) falls out of the ceiling
Scott: Ow...Hey guys what's up.
Cut to the 5 Reds
Simmons: You think that we were too mean to the kid?
Grif: Nah, he'll just wander around on the cliffs for a few hours. What's the worst that could happen?
Fong: Call me when that 'worse' could happen, goin' back to my room.
Patterson: Let's just hope he won't die.
Simmons: You might probably jinxed him.
Patterson:... Nah, probably didn't.
Donut approaches Blue Base.
Donut: Finally, there it is. …Oh sweet! They sell tanks!