The Weapons Guy

Chapter 203: A House Divided, Then Multiplied


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The screen slowly fades out to a view of Grif  and Ash running down towards Lopez.

Grif: Hey, where's Sarge?

Lopez 2.0: ¿Por qué me estás preguntando? Usted no habla español.[Why are you asking me? You don't speak Spanish.]

Cut to a view of Sarge heading towards the trio.

Sarge: Private Grif. I see you've returned from your reconnaissance mission unscathed. That's disappointing. Unacceptable. Welcome back, Private Ash.

Lopez 2.0: Vaya...¿Qué tiene este tipo contra ti?[Man... What is this guy's beef with you?]

Sarge: So, what information have you recovered?

Grif: Uh, that the Blues aren't up to anything and that you're a paranoid old man bordering on senility.

Sarge: Uh huh. I'll take that into consideration Private. But how about we hear from our more competent soldier? ...Simmons?

Grif: He's with the Blues.

Sarge: With- the Blues?

Grif: Yeah. He seemed really eager to stay at their base for some reason.

"He's done it again." Ash says. "It's the tank incident all over again.

"Huhh. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time." Sarge says.

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"A matter of time?" Grif asks.

"Yup." Sarge says. "I knew this day would come!"

"Really? You knew Simmons would eventually want to leave the Red team?"

"Leave Red team?!" Sarge yells. "Grif! Are you even paying attention?!"

"I mean... Not really..." Grif says. "I just thought- I...."

"First, they build a giant robot, then they capture my second in command?! It's just as I predicted! The enemy is finally showing its true colors! And that color is #0000FF!"

"What?" Grif is confused.

"BLUE!" Sarge yells. "BLUE! It's Red vs Blue all over again!"

"Death to the Blues!" Ash yells.

"No, Sarge, they didn't capture-" Grif starts.

"Can you believe it?!" Sarge yells. "Posing as our allies only to stab us in the back years after our conflict, had seemingly ended! They've pulled off the most elaborate ruse in the history of simulated military combat.

Grif: I-

Sarge: I mean really! How far back did they start planning this thing?

Grif: You're not listening!

Sarge: Like, did they know about all the Freelancers from the beginning?

Grif: Sarge.

Sarge: And what about Church? For years they told us he was a ghost, but then he was an ancient artifact or something and there were aliens involved I don't know. Sometimes I wonder just how deep this rabbit hole goes.

Grif: Stop.

Sarge: It's almost like all of this is some sort of sick game!

Sarge turns to look at the camera as he says this

Grif: ...This conversation is starting to get a little meta.

Sarge: You're right. You think he was in on it too?

Grif: I think you're jumping to conclusions.

Sarge: And I conclude you need to shut your mouth and move your feet!

Grif: What are you gonna do?

Sarge: We, are going to do the Reds' signature Blood Gulch maneuver.

Grif: Huhhh, oh no.

Lopez 2.0: Me hace feliz saber que te ignoran tanto como a mí por aquí.[It makes me happy knowing you're ignored just as much as I am around here.]

Cut to Caboose, Tucker and Freckles outside

Caboose: Okay Freckles, roll over!

Freckles rotates 360 degrees at the waist

Freckles: Objective complete.

Tucker: That's cheating.

Simmons: Hey Tucker!

Tucker: What?!

Simmons: Do you have any idea when Wash is getting back? I have some suggestions regarding the upkeep of Blue Base.

Tucker: I don't know and I don't care!

Simmons: Well I got two words for you buddy: chore wheel.

Tucker: And I've got two words for you. How 'bout fuck off?

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Simmons: Just think about it. Wheel of chores.

Tucker: I hate my life.

Washington: Tucker!

Tucker: You know what, I take it back, I hate everyone else's lives. Wish they didn't have 'em. Oh my God, am I turning into Church?

Washington: Why aren't you running drills?

Tucker: How do you know I didn't already finish them?

Washington: Because you're not on the ground complaining about irritated nipples.

Tucker: I'm telling you, my chest piece rubs right up against them. And not in a good way.

Washington: Why do you refuse to take these things seriously?

Tucker: Why can't you just let us do our thing?

Washington: I'm trying to make sure you're the best! That you're ready for anything.

Tucker: Why?! Blue Team was just fine with being mediocre until you came along. What the fuck are you worried about?

Washington: It's just a feeling I...can't explain it.

Tucker: Really? Because I bet I can. You're a paranoid, ex-special ops guy who's used to being betrayed on a weekly basis. Not much of a riddle Wash. Hey, next do you want to figure out the mystery of why Caboose isn't the team treasurer?

Washington: (now angry) Oh, so we're going there.

Tucker: Oh-hoho bitch, I already went there, and I took pictures.

Caboose: Ooooh girrrrl.

Washington: Well I can't say I'm surprised, Lavernius. You just always have to get the last laugh, mister quick-witted, mister sarcastic. If you spent as much time training as you do mouthing off, you could probably beat Freckles at arm wrestling!

Tucker: Don't be stupid! Freckles doesn't have arms, he has guns.

Caboose: And, paws! Freckles shake!

Freckles lifts up one foot and takes a step forward, shaking the ground

Caboose: Get it! He shakes! It's awesome!

Tucker and Washington: Caboose!

Caboose: Yeah, yeah we're still working on it.

Simmons: Oh, hey Wash, I didn't know you were back.

Washington: What is...why is he here?

Simmons: I took the liberty of claiming the bunk closest to you. I hope you don't mind.

Washington: I don't have time to deal with you right now, go away.

Simmons: Heh heh, good one, Sir. Oh hey, by the way, is it cool if I start calling you Sir?

Washington: Why is he still here?

Tucker: Beats me. If I was him, I'd be as far away from this base as possible.

Simmons: You can call me Champ if you want. Or you know... son.

Tucker: Just ignore him.

Simmons: Or Sir Junior.

Cut to a view through a sniper scope

Tucker: We don't need you protecting us!

Washington: I know, that's why I'm trying to help you!

Tucker: Help us with what, defending against attack?! No-one is going to attack us!

Sarge: Attack!

Grif, Ash, and Sarge drive over a hill directly into a boulder

Tucker: Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.

Sarge: Dammit, Grif! You forgot our theme music.

Grif: Oh, right.

Grif turns on the radio

Sarge: Ah, forget it. Moment's passed.

Freckles: Enemy soldiers detected.

Caboose: Uh... good Freckles... No murdering everyone.

Ash laughs like a madman.

The group form a standoff

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Grif: Uh, I would just like to take this opportunity to point out, that this, was not my idea. Whatsoever, at all.

"Shut it, Grif!" Ash yells and he hits Grif.

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