Chapter Text
The young woman, Christine (RED Scout’s mom) trembled, full of trepidation and sympathy for the rage-filled, berserker music maestro before her, The Phantom (RED Spy). He stared possessively at her grapefruits bursting from her chest with those creepifying icy eyes, licking his lips like a pervert pressing his face against a peep show window.
Her red, tight-ass Spanish dress swayed back and forth, as she backed away from him while imprisoned in his underground lair. Haunting organ music filled the air, but the player was just some dingy raccoon (Lieutenant Bites) messing around with the pipe piano in the corner of the room.
“No, you will not give me a hickey!” Christine spat.
“You are in no position to order me around.” The Phantom grinned like he cheated in math class. “I will give you a hickey and then strangle your little monkey music box to death!”
“No, no! Leave him alone! He is just a toy!”
The Phantom darkly chuckled. “He shall die for being so annoying to look at!”
“You are pitiful, Angel of Music! Stop terrorizing everyone here with your stupid invisible voice...and hanging people from the stage shafts and not letting my greedy-ass managers make a profit! I’m pro-capitalist and I demand you let these shows rake in money! Besides, I...I...like Raoul!”
“Oh, playing hardball now, are we? You know you’d rather have me than that frilly femboy Vicomte!”
Christine’s pretty little face faltered. “I...I...suppose so. You’re so...mysterious and sexy, and you do give good foot rubs.”
“What about MY foot rubs?” another voice shouts.
Both turned around to see the uptight, handsome dumb jock stud, Raoul (Mr. Bidwell) appear from a dark tunnel entrance. He was sweaty with the smell of masculine allure, his white undershirt ripped open to reveal a hot body worthy of a porn star.
Christine squealed in delight. “You came, my bland childhood friend!”
Raoul threateningly welded a wooden spoon. “I got mugged earlier for my gun, but that doesn’t mean I came unarmed! We will fight to the death for Christine’s badongas--I mean, love! On guard, you ugly-ass freak!”
“Oh ho, you wish to die that bad? My pleasure, you stupid little cock blocker!”
The Phantom pulled out a spatula and the two come forward to begin a duel of wits and brawn! Yet, a third person (BLU Scout) leapt down from the sewer rafts and brought a metal bat to both men, bashing in their skulls. Both the Phantom and Raoul lay dead, heads cracked open with blood pooling everywhere.
The man then turned to Christine. “Yo, I’m the calvary, but I’m gay. So don’t worry. I won’t make any moves on ya.”
He walked past the shocked diva star and broke open a glass storage cabinet with the bat. He pulled out a music box with a stuffed monkey on top and brought it over to Christine.
“Now, give him a hickey and you’ll both live happily ever after!”
“My one true love!” She moved in, ever so tenderly with juicy, puckered lips towards the stuffed animal’s neck--
“Oh my god, Scout!” BLU Demoman slapped his hand to his face. “Ye’re gitten’ the story all wrong, as usual!”
BLU Scout frowned. “What’s so wrong about it? It’s my own take on how the story should have ended.”
“Ye never even read Gaston Leroux! This is just some twisted nonsense ye pulled out yer ass!”
"I've watched two films."
"Yeah, but they're not as bad as how ye're mangling the characters!"
“It's better than injecting your Loch Ness monster lover into every one you tell,” BLU Scout retorted. “I swear, if I hear one more story about her, I’m gonna get ear cancer!”
“Lay off Nessie, ye little booger!”
“I thought it was cool when the homo guy killed the chick’s stalker and her uppity boyfriend,” RED Scout threw in, while nibbling on a fried chicken wing. He was resting on a bean bag, while Miss Pauling, the Pyros, BLU Soldier, and BLU Engineer sat in lawn chairs in the patio of one of BLU’s headquarters. “They were both annoying.”
“HA!” BLU Scout shot the Scotsman a smug look.
“That’s still not how the real story goes, boyo," Demoman replied condescendingly.
“I say give it a chance,” Miss Pauling threw in, sipping on a Piña Colada. Heaven knows she needed a drink after what they’ve been going through with the robots. “It’s always good to be open to different interpretations on the classics.”
Demoman snorted. “Yeah, Christine falls in love with a stuffed monkey. Next thing ye know, they’re gittin’ married. Scout might as well have’em go through a drive-thru wedding in Las Vegas.”
“That would be so awesome if Elvis married them!” BLU Soldier added, enthusiastic.
RED Pyro clasped their hands together, hearts in their eyes. “Mpshhg pshdhd ohdhgh?” (Will they have babies?)
“Ye're all nuts! I’m goin’ inside for me shower!” BLU Demoman took off his eye patch, revealing two normal eyes and stormed off.
BLU Scout stuck his tongue out at the retreating bomb expert. “Amateur dick.”
Suddenly, RED Soldier came barreling out of the kitchen backdoor and grabbed BLU Demoman by the collar.
“Gahh! What the bloody hell?” the Scotsman protested.
“Is it true?” RED Soldier demanded.
“What?”
“You BLUs are...American?”
“Yer’re findin’ out aboot this now??” BLU Demoman scoffed. “Didn’t us being clones from TF Industries give ye a clue?”
“No! Especially with the funny way you all talk!”
“Ye mean our accents? It’s a weird side effect from the clonin’ process. We still retain that as well as our warfare knowledge from RED team, except the memories of yer life experiences. I even have me official birth certificate!” Demoman reached for his back pocket, pulling out miscellaneous items like a rubber ducky, a sticky bomb, a weed pack, a dirty sock, Sesame Street coloring book, and tossed them aside.
The sticky bomb landed next to RED Scout. “AAAH! Be careful with that shit!”
He kicked it away, where it landed behind a rock boulder and exploded, killing one of The Administrator’s messengers spying on them.
Finally, Demoman produced the document and held it up. “See? Born December 15, 1967. Place of birth, TF Industries.”
“The Grey’s spaceship, to be exact,” Miss Pauling clarified. “It was just two miles away from the facility, hidden deep in the Badlands.”
“When did you realize this?” BLU Engineer asked RED Soldier.
“The RED Frenchie appeared and showed me the documents while I was paying tribute to Ulysses S. Grant’s birthday with a morning ritual,” the military mercenary explained.
“You mean that damn ruckus ya woke us up with." RED Scout was annoyed.
He was referring to a loud bugle going off at 6 AM just outside the base. While several of the mercenaries could sleep through anything, it was the light sleepers who weren’t spared the abject misery of being woken up by ‘Taps’ and ‘Stars and Stripes Forever’ playing over and over again.
“Do not start with me, short pants!” RED Soldier seethed at his teammate. “You would do well to attend my tributes to honor the blood of our ancestors in keeping this country eternal that holds dominion over all maggot nations!”
I’d rather fight for Boston, the RED runner thought.
“All ye did was just wake up the whole base,” Demoman remarked. “Maybe the dead out here too.”
“Good! They are probably American!” Soldier countered.
“I don’t think they care--"
“So, you BLUs never told me about your birthright to this country,” RED Soldier indignantly cut in. “Why did you keep it a secret? Are you ashamed of your heritage?”
“What? No! I assumed ye already knew.”
“As if that mush in his head could hold on to anything,” RED Scout muttered.
“Dear god! Here I was, fighting my own people this whole time.” The crazed mercenary looked genuinely ashamed. “Americans should not be fighting each other.”
*cough* “Divided political viewpoints”*cough* Miss Pauling mumbled.
“It’s happened before,” BLU Soldier pointed out. “Like in the Civil War. Americans fought each other, except instead of red and blue, it was gray and blue.”
“Those grays were traitors, though!” RED Soldier spat. “They dare turn against their own country and try to form another one?! They were blasphemous Satanists, just like Benedict Arnold was!” He eyed Demoman threateningly, ready to take out his Pain Train weapon. “You BLUs were not trying to betray this country, were you?”
“Lad, we were fightin’ over gravel and territories. It’s not like we were tryin’ tae secede from the U.S. We worked for a rich old geezer whose brother happened to be your boss. That’s all there is to it.”
RED Scout regarded RED Soldier with disdain. So, Mr. America Ball Sacks thinks I’m a Satanist for wantin’ to make Boston its own country?
Suddenly, a robot Heavy dashed out of hiding from a nearby tool shed and seized BLU Scout, lifting him up by the head with his massive mechanical hands.
“Ahhh!” BLU Scout cried.
“Don’t attack or I will crush leetle punk’s skull,” the Heavy bot threatened.
Startled, all the mercenaries immediately rose from their chairs.
“Shit! Gray has found our base!” Pauling uttered in dismay.
RED Soldier had pulled out his rocket launcher, aiming squarely at their iron-clad adversary. “You do that, Commie scum bot, and you will be nothing but spare parts for the scrap heap!”
Meanwhile, Demoman’s greedy mind was churning the wheels inside his head, and a nefarious smile spread across his face.
That robot’s got money inside it! If I could destroy it, then it could be all mine. How much is in there? $70,000? $100,000?? Oh, the possibilities...”
Unlike his RED counterpart, he was obsessed with money. Whereas RED Demoman would be glad to take care of his ailing mom with no strings attached, BLU Demoman would charge his own mom plus interest to do the same thing. Fortunately, he was a clone, so there was no parent he could swindle.
“Guys, please don’t let him crush my head into jelly!” BLU Scout begged.
The Heavy bot guffawed. “It will be worth it to see the looks on tiny baby men’s horrified faces!”
"Hey! A woman here too," Miss Pauling protested.
"Yes, tiny mouse woman too!"
She bristled. "Just leave out the 'mouse' part."
“Is Respawn even on?” BLU Scout fretted.
“Last time I checked?” Engineer piped up, grinning happily before his face dropped. “Ehh...nope.”
“Oh shit, I’m really gonna die!”
“I don’t care if you shoot, more of me will be coming soon!” the Heavy bot sneered, eyes flaring brightly blue.
“HELP!” BLU Scout yelled.
"I will now pop leetle head like water balloon!"
“NOOO!” the BLUs protested.
“Oh god, I can’t look, but I’m still gonna anyway cuz it’s like watchin’ a train wreck!” RED Scout squeaked.
BLU Pyro couldn’t take it anymore and was about to lunge forward in stopping their bro from being mangled beyond recognition. Before Soldier could pull his own trigger, BLU Scout suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh man, look at you all!”
The Heavy bot dropped him, joining in the derisive laughter with his scratchy, machine voice. Everyone stood there, stunned at this sudden, bizarre turn of events. Then...
“I should have known,” Demoman snarled.
The Heavy bot rippled out of existence and in his place stood the BLU Spy, smiling sardonically.
“Bonjour, my captive audience.”
“Spy?” Miss Pauling was aghast.
“We fooled ya dummies good!” BLU Scout spritely leaped up from the ground, still smugly grinning.
“Ye stupid pricks!” Demoman shook a fist at them. “With yer stupid pranks and yer stupid goddamn disguises all the time!”
“You were scared stiff I was gonna die!”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Yeah, you were! I bet you shit your pants too!”
“Fuck you, Scout!”
“Shouldn’t you be doin’ that with your Loch Ness monster wife?”
“That does it!” Demoman whipped out a fry pan and ran after both of them. “I could’ve had all that money! Ye cheated me, ye sonsofobitches!”
BLU Spy merely chuckled, activating his Invis Watch and disappearing completely while Scout easily outran his enraged teammate.
“They had me for a moment,” BLU Soldier admitted, irate.
“Me too,” Engineer threw in, while trying to comfort BLU Pyro by petting their shoulder. “Though us BLUs are already used it. When those two are together, they’re a pure nuisance with pranking the rest of us. The Gravel Wars didn’t change them, that’s fer sure.”
“I wasn’t scared,” RED Scout lied. “I knew all along what those asshats were up to.”
Miss Pauling was skeptical, but ultimately smiled with mirth. “Whatever you say, Bonk Boy.”
"Miss P, if I was a super hero, that would be my name."
"Sure, and I would be Purple Woman."
RED Scout smiled cheekily, the sunlight glinting off one shiny tooth. "Fightin' by my side as we rid the city of sniveling, snot-nosed cowards who'd make peoples' days a little more hard, ya know?"
The assistant dismissively waved a hand, going back to her drink. "Indeed, brains and egotism--I mean, speed. What a combo that would be."
“Phey, mohghgh oshghhg hshhgh!” RED Pyro gleefully announced. (Hey, the Howdy Doody re-runs are on!), before dashing off inside the base, quickly forgetting what happened.