The scene opens where we left off: With the mercenaries (minus Frank, having presumably chosen suicide over a gory death) staring down death in the form of a skeletal, demonic figure, consisting of Maurice's mutated Lamb Phall curry. With The Banana Man standing between them and the figure, the odds appear to be somewhat balanced, especially as he stops forward, pounding his iron chest.
The Banana Man: TIME TO DIE, SINNER!!!
Sal: Good, you go kill him.
The Banana Man: YEH HELP ME TOO!!
Maurice: Right, well lads, dibs on the legs.
Phil: I'll take the arms.
Maurice, Phil and Steve charge forward. Phil leaps onto the creatures right arm, Steve grasps the creatures gnarled and visible ribcage, while Maurice latches onto the right leg. Moe jogs forward, waving his arm forward.
Moe [Determined]: C'MON LADS! ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
Bill: WE EAT TOOOOOOOONNNIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHHTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!
Bill charges forward, leaping onto the creatures left arm and chomping wildly away. Moe leaps onto the left leg. Lynch blinks rapidly, clapping slightly.
Lynch: ...Well....I admire their determination. May as well.
Lynch reluctantly steps past the Banana Man and towards the Phall Monster, gripping its ribcage and leaning in, chewing on a random rib. Wyrzyk and his men watch in utter shock.
Seventh Polish Squadron Pilot: ...Captain? What do we do?
Wyrzyk: We do not shoot. We.....I actually do not know, Czajka. I do not know.
Czajka: ....I'm....sort of hungry.
Wyrzyk: Men, you have my permission to eat. I think i'll begin scouting this Harrier.
Czajka reluctantly steps forward, but stops, watching as Moe stumbles away, his face covered in Phall sauce, red and sweating, his eyes watering intensely.
Moe [Screaming]: OH MY GOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD!!!
Phil falls off the arm, stumbling backwards, his face and hands red raw from the heat of the sauce.
Phil: THIS WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA! NOT AT ALL!
Lynch pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his left sleeve.
Lynch: .......Christ, and Indian people eat this?
Maurice: I'LL HOLD ON FOR AS LONG AS IT TAKES, KIDDA!!!!!!!
Bill and Steve quickly crawl away, coughing and retching, collapsing at the feet of the group.
Czajka: OPEN FIRE, MEN!
The five Seventh Polish Squadron mercenaries swiftly sweep their AKS-74U assault rifles upwards, opening a blaze of gunfire towards the creature which simply stands there, not flinching.
Maurice [Pulling back]: ..nah...need me appetite to tame this beast..
The Banana Man: Y'ALL WEAK!!
From the top of the staircase behind the monster, Frank briefly pops into view. Lynch, through watering eyes, spots Frank, his eyes narrowing.
Lynch [Angrily]: YOU SON OF A WHORE!!!
Frank slowly crawls to the top of the staircase. Wyrzyk climbs into the pilot seat of the Harrier, examining the controls as Czajka and another mercenary crawl under the fuselage examining it. The Seventh Polish Squadron have, presumably, better things to attend to than random insanity. Three other mercenaries stand in front of the Harrier, watching with bewildered looks on their faces. One, a towering, thick-set figure standing to the left, simply hands his water flask to Phil who pours it over his face and hands, revealing his skin to be red raw where the sauce was.
Phil [Panting]: ...Cheers, Gorski...
Gorski: No problem.
The Banana Man stomps forward. Spotting this actual threat, the Phall Monsters maw opens, spewing forward a ball of curry sauce. The sauce, white hot, hits The Banana Man square in the chest plate. Despite hissing violently, the Banana Man rubs his left hand over the sauce, brushing it off as if it was a fly.
The Banana Man [Pounding his chest]: YEH CAN'T HURT ME! I GOTS ME FIREPROOF ARMOR!
The Phall Monster vomits another white-hot fireball of curry onto the Banana Man, who simply rushes forward and punches the Phall Monster directly in the teeth with a heavy iron fist. The Phall Monster flies backwards, straight towards Frank.
Frank: That's funny. I see my life flashing before my eyes......................Fuck, have I really been drunk for that lo--
The Phall Monster smashes violently into Frank, hitting the floor. Frank is sent backwards into the railing of the steps, backflipping roughly over it.
Lynch: FRANK?! FRANK?!?
A loud, pained groan is heard.
Bob: HE'S ALIVE!
Lynch sighs, turning the safety off on his AKS.
Lynch [Coldly]: Then i'll have to do it myself. Sal, on me.
Lynch: Mother's protocol: If one dies, another has to testify that he wasn't killed by a teammate. And you're the scummiest liar I know.
Lynch jogs towards the steps, heading down them towards Frank. Sal quickly follows, grinning brightly.
Sal: WOOHOO! I'M USEFUL AFTER ALL!
The mercenaries remain huddled in front of the Harrier Two as the Banana Man begins trading heavy blows with the Phall Monster.
Bob: We should probably get involved.
Czajka now climbs into the Harrier alongside Wyrzyk. A second Polish Squadron pilot climbs onto the left wing, examining it.
Will [Shrugging]: As long as the Poles are here, we can use them as meatshields.
Moe [Coughing loudly]: Shit, Maurice! What is that?!
Maurice: ...Phall. A dish created by British-Indian chefs in the lawless, violence ridden hellhole of a wasteland known to men solely as................BIRMINGHAM.
An ominous bolt of lightning cracks the sky. Will screams loudly. Jericho shudders. Bob faints. Steve sobs helplessly. Phil shivers.
Jericho: Sweet baby Jesus. BIRMINGHAM!!
Bob: I've only heard of that place existing in movies and books, I never knew such a shithole EXISTED!!
Phil: I've heard the mouth of Hell itself was recently unearthed there. Others say that there are no people living there, but what you see instead are angry, vengeful wraiths of the disturbed dead!
Another ominous bolt of lightning cracks the sky.
Maurice: Thick, tomato-based, and blended with habanero peppers, or sometimes Scotch Bonnets.It is thick and pungent, flavoured with ginger and fennel seeds. Ground up with increasingly hot chilli's, it renders the Phall as an agonisingly hot curry capable of killing weaker men!!
Will: So it's basically just a very hot curry?
Maurice: TRY AND EAT IT, WILL! NO MAN ALIVE CAN SURVIVE THE PHALL!
Will: pff, as long as the Poles are--
The Harrier Two swiftly ascends into the air, shooting off into the distance. Will blinks, his hair ruffled by the intensity of the takeoff.
Will: --here. Well, we're fucked.
Bob: Should we fight it?
Billy: Yes. WE WILL!
Billy runs off to the left, disappearing behind a storage container, followed by Vince. Maurice and Moe run to the right, disappearing behind storage containers. With a pincer attack presumably being planned, Phil and Bill run to the left, disappearing themselves. Jericho, Steve, Bob and Will having essentially been left alone.
The Phall Monster manages to spew a hot ball of curry up and onto the Banana Man's visor. The sticky curry smears across the visor of the welding helmet and the Banana Man stumbles back, reaching behind him and to his flamethrower tank, grasping the flamethrower and spinning around to face Jericho, Steve, Bob and Will.
Banana Man: I'VE DONE BEEN BLINDED!!!
The Banana Man fires the flamethrower, a stream of white-hot liquid fire pouring straight towards the four mercenaries. They quickly scream, diving to the left and right to avoid it. They sit up, glancing at eachother as the Banana Man spins around, spraying fire like a Roman candle.
Will [Gulping]; Well, I know what I have to do.
Will: What every man staring down death does.
Will jogs over to the left-side of the helipad, sitting down and hugging his knees to chest before clasping his hands over his ears and rocking back and forth.
Will [Sobbing]: I WANT MY MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY!
Bob [Sighing]: Typical..
Jericho walks forward, between the first and second column of storage containers, turning to the storage container to his left and grasping the handle, slowly wrenching it open.
Bob: Hey, what are you doing?!
Jericho: I am merely searching for a weapon. I will be back.
Steve: You're leaving us to die!
Jericho: ......Good observation.
Jericho steps inside and slams the door shut, a creaking noise filling the air as he presumably locks the door from the inside. Steve rushes over, slamming his palms against the door.
Steve: LET ME IN! HELP ME!
Jericho's Voice: I can't hear you, Steve!
The Banana Man stumbles past, firing a shot of his flamethrower forward. Bob gulps and rushes forward, reaching onto the back of his cargo belt and prying free a water flask, throwing it onto the Banana Man's welding helmet, the curry slowing running off.
The Banana Man: I CAN SEE.....YANKEE!
Bob [Raising his arms]: ON YOUR SIDE! ON YOUR SIDE!
The Banana Man twists around: As Steve slams his palms against the door, a shadow suddenly falling over him as he twists around and gazes into the hollow, glistening eyesockets of the Phall Monster.
Steve: .....Mister Phall Monster, would you not kill me if I said I thought you were delicious?
The Phall Monster roars violently in Steve's face, spraying him with shards of curried lamb and sauce. Steve closes his eyes, coughing slightly and wiping his cheeks with his hands.
Steve: .....That's a no, then?
Vince suddenly runs up behind the Phall Monster, kicking it in the back of its right leg. Or, rather, lightly tapping his foot against its leg.
Vince [Raising his arms]: OH YEAH! NOBODY IS A MATCH FOR ME--
A rainbow-coloured arc of bright light suddenly swoops from nowhere, Vince vanishing in its wake. The Phall Monster twists around to witness this strange phenomenon, allowing Steve to slowly tiptoe away and crawl under the Harrier, trying to hide. Bob suddenly emerges behind the Phall Monster, randomly carrying a fire axe that was presumably just left lying around.
Bob: IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO KICK YOUR ASS!!!
The Phall Monster twists his head one hundred and eighty degrees with a sickening crack, roaring violently at Bob who suddenly looks crestfallen, simply choosing to drop the axe and turn around, walking off.
Bob: Fuck it, I was never the brave one, anyway.
The Banana Man stomps across the top of Jericho's storage container, leaping down and landing on the Phall Monster's back, locking his iron arms around the creature's neck.
Banana Man [Whooping and hollering]: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! LET'S HEAR THAT THERE SNAP!!!!
The Phall Monster flails around, grunting roughly as its skeletal arms swipe behind it at The Banana Man. Maurice quickly emerges from between the third and fourth row of storage containers, charging forward and headbutting the Phall Monster in the chest, pulling back with a mouthful of spicy flesh in his mouth. The creature screams as Maurice chomps on it, but he quickly reels back and falls to one knee.
Moe [From atop a storage container behind Maurice]: MAUR?!
Maurice: IT'S TOO SPICY!! I CANNAE EAT IT WITHOUT A PINT OR MILK!!!
Bill: If the big man can't eat it, what hope do we mortals with weaker stomachs have?!
Bill emerges from between the first and second row of storage containers directly behind the Phall Monster, carrying a large metal bar, slamming it violently into the back of the creatures right leg. Phil emerges from between the second and third row of storage containers behind the Phall Monster, slamming a large metal pole into the back of the creatures left leg.
Bill: WORK IT, PHIL!!
Bill and Phil repeatedly slam their metal bars into the back of the creatures legs. Though it buckles slightly, the creature simply opens its maw, vomiting white hot curry over its back. Phil and Bill reel backwards, looking at their metal bars which have since melted, quickly dropping them.
Phil: So much for THAT plan. PLAN B!
Maurice: PHIL! DON'T!
Phil leans down, latching his teeth to the back of the creatures leg and chewing it ravenously, only to pull back, his eyes watering and his face a deep shade of red.
Phil [In pain]: FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOTIC ANGLO-INDIAN BASTARD CREATED THIS MONSTROSITY?!! MILK! I NEED MILK! MILK!
Phil screams, twisting around and sprinting off between the storage containers. The Banana Man releases his grip, the creatures head snapping around to its normal position. As he lands, he delivers a thunderous blow to the creatures abdomen, and a second blow to the creatures maw. The creature reels backwards, only for Billy to leap down from atop a storage container to the left of the creature, slamming a hatchet down into the creatures skull and grasping a scrap of loose flesh, hanging on for dear life as the monster flails around.
Billy: CRAPCRAPCRAPCRAP I DID'NAE THINK THIS THROUGH!!!
The monster flails violently, sending Billy into the air and slamming onto the floor. The creature raises its foot above him, but it gives the Banana Man a deadly opportunity: Jolting forward, he grasps the creatures leg and lifts it uneasily. Billy swiftly rolls to the left out of the way as the Banana Man slams the monster down into the concrete. Will, ever the opportunist, runs forward and jumps over the Banana Man, stomping both his feet down into the creatures gut.
Maurice: NO, WILL, YEH BLOODY MUPPET!!
Will suddenly and slowly begins sinking into the Phall Monster's gut, sucked in by the spicy sauce.
Will [Gulping]: Well, fuck me. This was not supposed to happen.
The Banana Man stomps roughly on the creatures leg, its gut swelling out in pain and allowing Will to jump backwards, rolling across the floor and crawling backwards. Bill rushes over again, hitting the creature rapidly in the skull with his metal pipe.
Bill [Impatiently]: FUCKING! DIE! YOU! UGLY! MOTHER! FUCKER!
The Banana Man joins in, stomping the creatures chest. Moe stomps the creatures gut, and Billy rushes over, stomping on the creatures left leg. Phil rushes over, using his metal pipe and smashing the creatures right leg. The Phall Monster convulses with every blow, but it clearly has minimal effect. Bill pulls backwards, breathing heavily and wiping his wet brow with the back of his right hand.
Bill [Panting]: Whoowhee! THIS IS SOME HARD WORK!
Phil: DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! I may need to eat this guy to get some energy back afterwards, for the record.
Moe: Bloody hell, lads, he just won't die!
Banana Man: All I can do is smash 'im goooooood! I can no beat him!
Bill: ALRIGHT! TIME OUT!
Bill raises his hands above his head, making a 'time out' hand gesture. The Phall Monster stops convulsing, laying there in a freeze-frame.
Phil: Huddle, boys.
Bill, Phil, Billy, Will, Maurice, Moe, Steve and Bob quickly rush over to where the Harrier was and huddle up. The Banana Man slaps his thick iron arms around Bill and Billy, leaning in.
Phil: Right, Banana Man: You keep working the teeth. Billy, you work the legs. Moe, you work the torso and groin area. Bill, go for the gut. Gotta weaken him up. But we need lager--
Maurice: Oi, Phil, lager will nae kill a Phall! A Phall is the most dangerous curry known to men!
Moe: He's right.
Phil: Right. This may be a very, very, very, VERY long shot, but does anyone have any Greek yoghurt?
Every head in the huddle turns to Will, who frowns.
Will: Excuse me, but I am not a one-dimensional health nut who carries organic food with him at all times!
Billy: An' that's a lie.
Will: Seriously, I don't.
Billy: I'll rip yeh teeth out and ram 'em up yeh arse one-by-one if yeh don't give us some.
Will sighs, looping his right arm behind him and pulling out an army-issue drinking flask, holding it towards Phil. Phil swiftly takes it and unscrews the cap, sniffing it and retching slightly.
Phil [Coughing]: Fucking hell, man, are you maturing it in the flask?!
Will: It's lemon, wheatgrass, acai, blueberry, thyme, basil, tomato and honey.
Bill: Wheatgrass? What is it with you and wheatgrass?
Will [Snobbishly]: It adds an earthy tone to the flavour!
Phil: And tomato? What the fuck is wrong with you? Tomato and yoghurt?!
Will: I have sophisticated tastes!
Steve: I'm surprised you have any sense of taste after drinking this!
Bill: Really, Will. I mean, tomato? Basil? Thyme? Wheatgrass?
Will [Scoffing]: I did not get into this huddle to discuss my discerning flavour palate!
The Banana Man: We gots to kill the monster.
The mercenaries lift their heads slightly and look over at the Phall Monster, now sitting in a deckchair and reading a copy of FHM.
Phil: Anyway, so while you four are working him over, weakening him, I'll throw this shite at him. Yoghurt should kill the curry. If not, we'll need milk. Anyone have any milk?
Female Voice: I do.
The mercenaries head snap towards the source of the voice: Huddled between Steve and Bob is Tavi, the anthropomorphic sugar glider (without a gliding membrane, for some reason.) with steely gray fur, black patches around her eyes and a black stripe from her head down her nose to a small black nose, and a flowing grey tail behind her, with golden eyes and an attitude that can be best described as "neurotically psychotic and cheerful", giving a bright grin.
Tavi: Hey guys.
Billy: Och, what are yeh doin' here?!
Tavi: Not happy to see me? it may not be Halloween anymore, but I still wore my special costume for you!
The mercenaries lift their heads: Tavi is wearing a white t-shirt, denim jacket, jeans and tan leather boots.
Phil: That's what you normally wear.
Tavi: Well, duh! I came as ME! It's been ages since i've appeared, and the dear readers will be longing to see me in all my glory!
Bob [Sarcastically]: ....Yeah. Okay. [Looking over at Phil] So, are we ready to go?
Phil: Yes. And Bob?
Phil: Act as the decoy.
Bob [Taken aback]: ...Wait, what? What about Will? Maurice?! Steve?!
Phil: You're naturally cowardly. You're the kind of guy who'd be buried with gold bullions just to try and buy off death.
Bob [Scoffing]: AND YOU?!
Phil: I'm the opposite: I'm naturally insane. I'm the kind of guy who'd run at death, naked, screaming and flailing his arms.
A short silence punctuates Phil's words.
Steve: He's got you there.
Vince's screams fill the air.
Tavi: Awwww, is Vinnie getting killed by Pinkie Pie?
Phil: Rainbow Dash.
Steve [Shaking his head]: This is fucking nuts..
Moe: This is what it is being us.
The mercenaries and the Banana Man raise their heads: A rainbow shoots across the sky, Vince's screams getting louder. In the middle of the huddle, Vince slams violently down between them, laying motionless face-down.
Bill: Can I poke it with a stick?
Will: No. It's dead............At least he smells dead.
Tavi: What's with him?
A rainbow-coloured arc slices through the huddle: Vince disappears, screaming into the distance.
Moe: We really need to finish this quickly.
Phil puts his right hand into the middle of the huddle.
Phil: MERCENARIES! LET'S KICK SOME CURRIED ASS!
Every mercenary puts their hand into the middle. The Banana Man slaps his iron hand over them all.
Mercenaries (And Banana Man): OO-RAH!!!
The mercenaries throw their arms up, twisting around and facing the Phall Monster, now up on its feet, arms outstretched.
Tavi: He looks mean.
Maurice: Try eating him, lass.
Bob: Wait, what was the plan again?
Phil: I throw this. Bob distracts him. Everyone else fights him to the death.
The Banana Man stomps forward, punching the Phall Monster in the abdomen. The Phall Monster quickly locks its clawed, gnarled hands around The Banana Man's head, gripping it tightly. Billy rushes forward, skidding on his rear and hitting a two-footed soccer tackle against the Monster's right leg. The Monster reels back as Billy rips off the top of his fatigues, revealing a hairy but chiselled chest.
Billy [Angrily]: THE RED MIST DESCENDS! TIME TO KILL SOMETHING!
Tavi [Grinning]: Yum.
Phil jogs backwards onto the Helipad, to the spot where the Harrier was, clutching the flask of yoghurt like an American football and pulling his arm back. Billy punches violently at the creatures right leg, while Maurice locks his arms around the creatures left leg. Bob, meanwhile, is standing in the same place he was, except now doing an odd dance, hopping around and waving his arms robotically.
Bob [Lifelessly]: Hey. Monster...Look at me. Yeah, look at me. Ooooo.
Bill rushes forward, leaping over The Banana Man who is being dragged around by the Monster, and latching onto the creatures face.
Phil [Angrily]: MOVE, DAMMIT! I CAN'T GET A CLEAR SHOT!
Bill releases the creatures face as a loud engine's noise cuts through the air: Above Phil, the Harrier begins hovering. Phil takes a step forward, and the Harrier descends swiftly, causing Phil to collapse forwards.
Bob: HE HAD THE SHOT! DAMN YOU, POLAND!
Czajka: Shut up!
Wyrzyk climbs out of the front seat and drops down to the tarmac, as do Czajka, Gorski, and the other Polish mercenaries.
Wyrzyk: Well, the fight continues.
Billy punches rapidly at the creatures legs as Tavi stands to Phil's right, arms folded. Moe leaps from atop a storage container, slamming a brick down into the creatures scalp, repeatedly doing so as the Polish simply walk past it.
Phil: WELL, LITTLE HELP?!
Wyrzyk: We must help Lynch.
Wyrzyk: I'm afraid that I must admit that mutated curry monsters are not our area of expertise.
Wyrzyk walks off with his mercenaries, turning right at the end of the Heliport and heading down the stairs. The Banana Man quickly moves behind the Phall Monster, locking its arms behind its head. Maurice and Billy sweep behind, clutching its legs. The Monster struggles wildly, but it is effectively paralyzed.
Maurice: PHIL! THROW IT!
In slow motion, Phil arcs his arm back, taking a step forward and throwing the flask of yoghurt through the air. Spraying a small amount of liquid, the flask heads on a perfect arc towards the Monsters skull. Until a rainbow-coloured arc of light flashes by, smacking the flask away and straight off of the side of the Helipad.
Phil [In Slow Motion]: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww moooooooooooooooooootttttthheeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrfuucccccckkkkeeeeerrrrrrrrrr...
In slow motion, the Banana Man slowly moves around to the Phall Monster, rotating his right arm as he winds up a thunderous punch.
Billy [In slow motion]: Whhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttttttttttt tttttttttthhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee fffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkk???
Maurice [In slow motion]: Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooodaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt......
The Banana Man [In slow motion]: Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww......
Time suddenly snaps back to normal speed as the Banana Man finishes winding up his punch and simply delivers it roughly to the jaw of the Phall Monster. The fantastic strength of the Banana Man causes the lower jaw of the Monster to fly directly to the right, embedding itself violently into a nearby storage container. The doors of the storage container fly open and Jericho emerges, carrying an M2 Flamethrower.
Bob: WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!?!
Jericho: Nobody knows what's in these crates, Konami don't program it in, and you know what that means?
Jericho [Grinning]: LAWS OF HAMMERSPACE, BOY! WE CAN SUMMON ANYTHING!
Steve: You know what that means, Phil?!
Phil: Way ahead of you, Steve!
Jericho marches out as Phil dives into the container, emerging moments later carrying a sixteen-inch Pepperoni pizza in his hands, munching on it greedily.
Steve: ....That's...not what I had in mind.
Will rushes into the container, emerging moments later with what appears to be a clone of Raging Raven wearing a bikini, riding his back and grinning brightly.
Will: DON'T WAIT UP!
Will scuttles off out of sight.
Steve [Sighing darkly]: Looks like I have to save the day.
Steve walks determinedly into the storage crate, only to emerge seconds later with Golden Retriever puppies latched onto his arms, legs and back.
Steve [Laughing]: I COULDN'T RESIST IT! I'M IN HEAVEN!
Tavi [Watching]: Why is it that the women always have to finish the job the men start?
Tavi walks into the crate, emerging with a two-pint bottle of milk, ripping the cap off of it and advancing towards the Phall Monster. The Banana Man delivers a swift, pounding series of blows to the creatures abdomen, moving behind it and gripping its arms tight, locking them behind its back as Tavi, in a single bound, leaps on top of a storage container to the creatures right, walking to the end of it.
Tavi: Time to....cool down.
Tavi tips the milk upside down, pouring the entire contents down onto the Phall Monster which lets loose an unearthly scream. The dairy washes away the capsicum and oily sauce, causing the creatures legs to start melting into a puddle. The Banana Man steps backwards as the creature finally and fully melts, leaving only a set of gnarled, mutated bones to rest in a puddle of curry sauce which begins to spread out. Tavi drops the bottle of milk, dusting her hands off.
Jericho [Angrily]: EXCUSE ME, I HAVE A FLAMETHROWER!
The Banana Man: So do I!
Tavi: Should've fired it instead of standing there.
Tavi: Oh, hush.
Phil [Still eating the pizza]: So.....is it over?
Tavi: Yes, you greedy pig, it's over.
Steve waddles over, arms and legs covered in puppies.
Steve: Well, at least we won.
Tavi [Scoffing, pointing at her chest]: I WON! ME! I DID IT!
Bill: It was a team effort!
Tavi slaps Bill sharply around the cheek, causing him to reel backwards.
Billy: Ach, quit fightin', we got other problems!
Billy points to the sky: Vince hits the floor at the feet of Bob. Billy then points at a rainbow-coloured arc shooting through the sky towards them.
Bob: How do we fight a Rainbow Dash?
Jericho [Determined]: The same way England's cricketers do when they step onto the plate against the Aussies.
Moe: After a night of heavy drinking?
Jericho pulls a random cricket helmet from the container, stuffing it onto his head and shutting the cage before grabbing a cricket bat.
Jericho: WE'LL BE DOING THIS FLINTOFF-STYLE!
Phil: Definitely after a night of heavy drinking, then.
Bill: Hey, what's cricket? Who is Flintoff?
Phil [Clearing his throat]: Well, Jericho's going to deal with Rainbow Dash the same way that America deals with countries who have oil.
Bill: He's going to liberate her?
Phil: With a very generous dose of violence.
The rainbow shoots towards Jericho, who has his bat pointed downwards in the traditional cricket style, his left leg slightly crooked behind his right leg. As soon as the rainbow shoots towards him, he swipes the bat upwards, hitting the rainbow directly and sending it shooting into the air. The mercenaries watch as the rainbow arcs before shooting downwards and slamming violently into the Heliport. Jericho jogs over to the container behind Phil, tapping his bat against it before running back to where he was and raising his arms.
Jericho [Grinning]: THAT'S A RUN!
Vince rushes over to the fallen rainbow and skids towards it on his knees, leaning down and cradling the wounded Rainbow Dash in his arms, sobbing wildly.
Vince [Sobbing]: R-R-RAINBOW DASH! DON'T LEAVE ME! I LOVE YOU! I'M SORRY WE FOUGHT!
Rainbow Dash [Coughing]: ...Dude..get offa me..
Jericho: Can someone please knock him out?
Moe holds his right hand out. Jericho hands him his cricket bat and Moe rushes over, slamming it violently into the side of Vince's head, knocking him clean out. Moe drops the cricket bat, walking back over to the group, holding up his right hand which everyone high-fives. Will moves from behind a storage container, his hair ruffled and unkempt, high-fiving Moe.
Will: Great going, little man!
Billy: Aye, nice tae see him shut up, wee lad.
Maurice: But what about the little pony?
Phil: SKIN THE PONY. WEAR AS CAPE--
Jericho: No. I remember what happened last time.
Bob: Where he flew into the air and randomly returned with the Hammer Mjolnir?
Phil: SKIN THE PONY. WEAR AS CAPE.
Bill: That was a hallucination. What was he wearing?
Silence. Eveyone's eyes dart to Phil, who looks around shiftily.
Phil: Well, how would I know? I was drugged to the tits on narcotics!!
Tavi: You're a sick man, Phil.
Moe: Hey, it's the best suggestion i've heard--
Jericho: Don't encourage him.
The mercenaries turn their heads, hearing quiet voices.
Up the set of metal stairs, Lynch has his hands under Frank's armpits, dragging him up the stairs. Accompanying him are Wyrzyk and his Seventh Polish Squadron comrades, and Sal, bringing up the rear.
Wyrzyk: I have no idea what to say.
Lynch continues dragging Frank up the stairs as he struggles incessantly.
Lynch: Don't say anything, Pete. It's best to ignore it.
Wyrzyk: You have a fun job, Markie. But I do not envy you at all.
Lynch: If anything, i'd rather you pity me.
Lynch drags Frank up to the top of the stairs, throwing him forward. Frank yelp, sliding across the concrete and towards the group. Wyrzyk emerges behind him as Lynch walks forward, watching the group carefully.
Lynch: What's the fucking weeaboo nerd doing?
Jericho: Just don't look.
Lynch turns his back to Vince, clapping his hands together.
Lynch: Right, well, that was a pointless excursion. Before we head out, though.
Lynch points to Maurice, then makes a come hither motion with his index finger.
Maurice: Aye, aye..
Maurice waddles over, and Lynch grasps Maurice's collar, pulling him down to his face level.
Lynch [Deathly quiet]: You eat one more curry that mutates into a psychopathic demon, and I will lynch you with your own colon.
Maurice [Calm]: Sorry, sir.
Lynch releases Maurice, who waddles back towards the group.
Jericho: Bloody hell, Maur: No backtalk?
Maurice: Nah, he's right, lad. Me curries are me weakness. Everytime I have one, they mutate into horrible killers, like.
Sal: A true tragedy. Truly.
Lynch: .....So, Banana Man, where now?
Banana Man [Suddenly adopting a dramatic, neutral American accent]: Wherever injustice lies, I will be there. Wherever a man is in danger, I will be there. When evil needs to be singed in the fires of purification, I will be there. Wherever the Pickle Man emerges, I will be there. Evil will learn to fear the pure Southern fires of my holy wrath, for I am the Banana.
Lynch: ....Jesus fucking Christ, what was the author smoking when he came up with you?
Banana Man [Suddenly adopting his native Southern drawl]: YEH SHUT YEH MOUTH! I BE GOING TO ROAST ME SOME SINNERS!!
The Banana Man suddenly vanishes in a shower of flames. The mercenaries look around: Emptiness.
Wyrzyk: ....Now I know why I never wanted to help you at Shadow Moses.
Lynch: It's fun, Pete! Embrace it!
Wyrzyk: I refuse.
Kowalski: What now, Commander?
Wyrzyk turns to the Seventh Polish Squadron.
Wyrzyk: Head down to Strut E. Take it over. Head to Struts C and D and let's reinforce our brothers there.
Sokolsky: And the Harrier?
Wyrzyk looks at Lynch, who nods.
Wyrzyk: We'll be back to claim it. SEVENTH POLISH SQUADRON!!! POLSKA, WALCZ!!
Seventh Polish Squadron [Thrusting their left fists into the air, chanting in unison]: POLSKA, POWSTAĆ! POLSKA, WALCZ! POLSKA, POWSTAĆ! POLSKA, WALCZ!!
Vince: Why can't we have a chant that cool?
Jericho: Cause English, as a language, sounds like a pussy language compared to Polish.
Seventh Polish Squadron [Marching down the steps, still chanting]: POLSKA, POWSTAĆ! POLSKA, WALCZ! POLSKA, POWSTAĆ! POLSKA, WALCZ! POLSKA, POWSTAĆ!
Phil: See, if they came towards me chanting that, i'd surrender just to be on the safe side.
Lynch: What bullshit swan-eating words are they chanting anyway?
Steve: "Poland, Arise. Poland, Fight." Although the arise is interchangeable with 'revolt' and 'emerge'.
Lynch: Semper Fi still sounds better.
Bob: Because a Marine shouting 'Always Faithful' is better than several angry men chanting 'Poland, Arise! Poland, Fight!'?
Lynch: Insult the Corps and I will ram your head up your ass and use you as a basketball.
Phil: Which I think you'll find is an actual move they've taught the Marine Corps, so beware, Bob.
Tavi clears her throat. The mercenaries glance over at her.
Frank: What are you doing here?
Tavi [Frowning]: Saving your asses!
Lynch: Oh...well...uhh..hmmm..........fuck off.
Tavi [Darkly]: Well, I have to be off anyway. Mother doesn't like me staying and playing with the boys.
Billy: Too rough for yeh?
TAvi [Shrugging]: No, she just says I have far better things to be doing, being smarter and all.
Tavi clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, bobbing slightly on the spot.
Tavi: Well, see ya.
A large red portal opens behind Tavi. Mother appears, placing her hands on Tavi's shoulders.
Mother: Come, Tavi. Leave the fools alone.
Lynch [Angrily]: We're not dumb!
Mother glares behind Lynch, who sighs bitterly and shuts his eyes.
Lynch: ............Ah shit, I have to look........
Lynch turns around and opens his eyes: Bill and Billy are headbutting eachother to the tune of Duelling Banjo's. Vince is still cradling Rainbow Dash in his jacket, cooing at her, while Phil strums out a whimsical tune on his Banjolele as Steve does the funky chicken and Jericho riverdances. Bob and Maurice wrestle while Moe tap dances, and Will swings his shirt around his head, making noises that can be best described as an aroused wolf being strangled. Frank simply stands there, drinking from a bottle of turpentine while Sal juggles several gun magazines, catching them in his mouth.
Lynch [Angrily]: YOU'RE ALL DOING THAT SHIT ON PURPOSE! THAT CAN'T BE HOW YOU BEHAVE NORMALLY!!!
Tavi: You'd be surprised..
Lynch turns to the portal.
Lynch [Whining]: Help us, Tavi? Melvin?...Mustafa?..Courtney?.........MOTHER?!?!
Mother: Have faith, Marcus.
Lynch [Desperately]: EVEN FAITH GOT JESUS CRUCIFIED! THESE DUMB FUCKING CUNTS ARE GOING TO DRIVE ME TO THE GRAVE BEFORE LONG!!!
Mother[Firmly]: Have faith.
Tavi: Well, farewell!
The portal disappears as Lynch turns back around, only to see Bill and Billy reading War and Peace aloud as Vince, Sal, Phil, Steve, Bob, Frank, Will, Jericho, Maurice and Moe sit and listen, nodding and stroking their chins whimsically.
Lynch [Coldly]: I hate you all. Can we get a move on?
Sal: Excuse me, Marcus, but we are discussing War and Peace!!
Lynch: Who wrote it?
The mercenaries fall silent.
Sal: ........Cormac McCarthy?
Lynch: Get the fuck up before I rip your scalp off.
The mercenaries slowly rise to their feet, turning to Lynch who walks down the middle of the storage containers and towards the metal staircase. A cyborg ninja is loitering on top of the steps, fingers pressed to the side of its head, presumably on CODEC. The mercenaries stop suddenly. Lynch's eyes widen. The ninja turns its heads to them.
Lynch [Pointing]: CYBORG NINJA!!
Ninja: No, you fools, it's--
Lynch [Baring his teeth]: GIVE IT YOUR WAR CRY, MEN!!
Mercenaries [Screaming]: WE'RE NOT THE MERCENARIES! WE'RE VERY NAUGHTY BOYS!!!
Lynch stops, looking over his shoulder at them.
Lynch: Men, did you just chaff that line from Monty Python and the Meaning of Life?
Lynch: Try not to get us sued.
Lynch snaps his head back to the Cyborg Ninja, charging forward and leaping on it, tackling it to the ground. The mercenaries barrel forward, leaping through the air and dogpiling onto the ninja. The dust settles, with a huge pile of mercenaries covering the ninja, Steve sat on top and looking down at Maurice who he's sitting on.
Raiden's Voice [Faint]: ...Hello? Mr. X?
Jericho [Wheezing]: ...Little help?
Lynch scrambles forward, rolling off of the heap and hitting the floor. The entire heap shuffles, revealing Bill at the bottom, eyes glazed over.
Bill: ........My spine...
Frank grasps Bill, pulling him away from the Cyborg Ninja which lays unconscious on the floor. Frank looks down at the Cyborg Ninja, tapping the helmet with his foot.
Frank: How do we open it?
Billy crawls over and grasping the helmet, twisting it lightly from side to side.
Billy: Ach, it's stuck.
Maurice: Get offa it! I'll bloody do it!
Maurice leans down,gripping the helmet and twists it roughly, a loud crack sounding.
Maurice [Taken aback]: Uh oh.
Steve: What does this do?
Steve presses something on the side of the helmet, and the visor splits before pulling up, revealing the face of Olga Kurlukovich, her eyes shut tightly.
Will [Looking down]: it's Olga.
Maurice: Lads...I think I broke her neck.
Moe: Like a twig, Maur, you bloody idiot!
The mercenaries quickly scuttle down the stairs and towards Strut E.
*** EF Connecting Bridge ***
Emerging from the red pneumatic door, the mercenaries head left down a short coridoor, turning left at the end of it and walking out onto the EF Connecting Bridge. The bridge, wider than the previous bridges, extends straight ahead to Strut E. Four large cylindrical orange tanks, which appear to be water tanks of some sort, are dotted two in a row ahead of them, consisting of two rows. In the middle of the bridge, to their right, a thinner catwalk extends to the Shell One Core. Lynch takes the lead and walks ahead, but a burst of static from his belt causes him to stop, answering his walkie-talkie and lifting it to his ear.
Pliskin's Voice: Marcus, it's Snake.
Lynch: Go on.
Pliskin's Voice: Raiden froze the C4 on Strut B.
Pliskin's Voice: Only one more left to go. Let me patch you in with Raiden and Pete.
Lynch [Not listening]: Cool.
Stillman: Good work, all of you. Only one left on Strut F.
Lynch: Heading there as we speak.
Pliskin's Voice: ..I checked out the bottom of Strut H for you, Pete.
Raiden's Voice: Wait--What's this about?
Stillman's Voice: I asked Pliskin to look around. Knowing Fatman, I can't shake the feeling that all the bombs so far were just wrong.
Lynch: Yeah, well, placing a bomb on a Harrier doesn't scream 'structural destruction' to me.
Raiden's Voice: Did you find anything?
Pliskin's Voice: A hell of a lot of C4's packed into the bottom of the strut. Pete called it right.
Stillman's Voice: I knew he had the real thing up his sleeve...
Raiden's Voice: So all the other ones were dummies?
Stillman's Voice: No, they're a threat all right, but the detonation wouldn't be enough to destroy the entire Shell. But the C4's Pliskin found would inflict serious structural damage.
Lynch: No, seriously, he planted C4 on a Harrier, How the fuck would that be a threat?
Pliskin's Voice: That's not the bad news either. These are sensor-proof.
Stillman's Voice: What!?
Pliskin's Voice: New model, I guess. The ionization sensor can't detect them. The whole thing is sealed tight to prevent vapor leak, and there's no trace of that cologne signature. Pete, looks like he fooled you.
Stillman's Voice: Yes...
Raiden's Voice: But you managed to find the thing anyway?
Lynch lowers his walkie-talkie, looking over his shoulders and shrugging.
Lynch: They won't shut up with insane plot stuff.
Sal: Ah, the bane of every gamer: Plot.
Vince: But with the release of Call of Duty, the bane of every gamer is surely games that don't hold your hands from beginning to finish.
Sal: That too.
Lynch [Sighing, tapping his foot impatiently]: Get on with the part where we blow shit up..
Stillman's Voice: No, there's no need. Raiden, you have one left to go, correct?
Raiden's Voice: Right -- except for those scentless ones.
Stillman's Voice: How about you, Pliskin?
Lynch: I'm getting impatient right now.
Lynch looks over his shoulder as Bill, Phil, Frank, Sal, Will, Bob and Vince kick around a hacky sack. Steve is spinning aimlessly in a circle while Maurice and Moe spit over the railing. Billy wanders around aimlessly, coughing.
Billy: Feckin' hell..
Billy: Ah, nowt, just getting used tae one eye.
Jericho moves to his left, into the blindspot of Billy's right eye.
Jericho: Can you see me?
Billy: Ach, move back to the right!
Jericho sidesteps right. Billy flings his right fist out, catching Jericho with a swift jab that sends him reeling backwards into the railing. Jericho spits out a mouthful of blood, coughing loudly.
Billy: Nah, I cannae see yeh.
Lynch sighs, listening back into his walkie-talkie.
Stillman's Voice: That won't happen. I... I can walk just fine. I can even run... That bomb, five years ago. I messed up. Even with all my experience, I lost it. And a church was lost in the explosion. All those kids playing nearby too... These past five years, I've lived a lie.
Raiden's Voice: Lied?
Stillman's Voice: Yes, lied. I didn't lose my leg in the explosion. So many dead -- all because of my mistake. All I could think about was hiding from the crime, shielding myself from the public outcry. I wanted people to be sorry for me, for my weakness... I faked being a victim myself because I couldn't bear to face the families of the real victims. This is no prosthetic. I can keep my footing on catwalks and hike over deserts. I lived my lie so well I haven't even answered to myself for my sins... It was supposed to be a shield. And it's become a shroud instead. I've killed my soul by playing the victim. Instead of protecting me, it's made my life even more hellish.
Raiden's Voice: What good can that do the victims?
Lynch: For FUCKS sake!
Will boots the hacky sack, hitting Vince in the face.
Vince: Watch it!
Will: What'cha gonna do, neckbeard? Drool on me?!
Vince [Eyes narrowing]: Get 'im, Dashie.
Nothing happens. Will looks around.
Will: Well?! I'm waiting!
Rainbow Dash crawls out from the back of Vince's fatigues, coughing and spluttering.
Phil: Dude, you're killing her.
Vince: Where am I supposed to keep her, Phil?
Phil: SKIN THE PONY, WEAR AS--
Vince pulls a rolled-up newspaper from nowhere, batting Phil on the nose.
Vince [Sternly]: NO.
Phil [Eyes widening maniacally]: SKIN VINCE. WEAR AS CAPE.
Vince: Uh oh.
Phil sprints forward. Vince screams, twisting around and running away as Lynch turns back to his walkie talkie.
Pliskin's Voice: Pete, I've taken care of guards in Struts G and H of Shell 2. I wouldn't recommend you go into any of the other struts.
Stillman's Voice: I owe you one.
Pliskin's Voice: I'll get back to freezing the baby bombs then.
Stillman's Voice: You do that too, Raiden. I'll have the radio with me, if you need to get in touch. Just don't ask for "Peg-Legged Peter." He's gone for good.
Lynch: Since when did he call you "Peg-Legged Peter"? Pliskin, weren't you supposed to tell me about their CODEC conversations?
The line crackles with static.
Lynch: I hate you, Pliskin. OR SHOULD I SAY, SOLID SNAKE?!?!?
Lynch sighs, slipping his walkie talkie back into his belt and turning to his mercenaries.
Lynch: How do they not know we should just not disarm the bombs? It's obviously a trap.
Sal: But that's what makes it exciting: Is it a trap? Or not a trap made to look like a very obvious trap?
Lynch: Sal, that's the dumbest logic i've ever heard.
Moe: The dumbest logic i've ever heard is men who turn into vampires when injected with nanomachines.
The mercenaries turn their heads, looking at Steve.
Steve: Hey, my nanomachines just heal my previously-irreparable brain damage. These things are magic! They can even suppress CANCER!
Vince screams loudly. The mercenaries turn, watching as Phil has tackled Vince to the floor, pulling a large bowie knife from his left boot as he grins maniacally.
Phil: SKIN VINCE. WEAR AS CAPE.
Lynch: What's with Bigfoot?
Frank: The usual: Thinking the solution to everything is skinning it and wearing it as a cape.
Steve: The Viking's believed that skinning an animal and wearing its pelt gave you the strength of that animal.
Lynch: Better stop him.
Will: You actually care for Vince?
Lynch: No, but if he wears Vince's skin, he'll be as weak as a brony neckbeard.
Frank: What if it's a brony neckbeard that benches three-fifty?
Lynch [Sighing]: Yes, that is a distinct possibility, but we live in a world where arbitrary insults are the undying truth, thus being a brony neckbeard means he can barely rip paper. Got it?
Frank: Man, the dangers of being in this timel--
Lynch: It ain't this timeline, Frank. It's every timeline!
Lynch walks over to Phil, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pulling him off of Vince. Phil automatically slips his knife back into his boot.
Lynch: Alright, Phil, what broke you?
Phil: I just like stabbing things.
Lynch [Patting his back]: Good boy.
Lynch holds his out to Vince, who grasps it. Lynch pulls him to his feet, dusting off the front of Vince's fatigues.
Vince: Gee, thanks!
Lynch: Vince, I do have faith in you, but if you are the harbinger of one more My Little Pony reference, Phil is going to wear your hair as a coonskin cap, and I will your torso like a fucking shirt. Got it?
Vince [Gulping]: G-G-Got it.
The mercenaries walk forward. However, two figures turn around the corner in front of them: On the right is a smallish figure with cold brown eyes and a shaggy black haircut, clad in a thick woolen navy overcoat reminiscent of Germany's WW2-Era Kriegsmarine and wearing a pair of thick black boots: Robbie Steinhatten. In his hand is a thick leather leash, on the end of which is a white wolf with bright amber eyes, panting visible breaths into the air. To his right, in contrast, is a figure with neck-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes, along with unshaven stubble and an uncharacteristically-sadistic grin, wearing the same brown, yellow and black fatigues his squadmates are: Dave Jackscar.
Maurice: Look out, lads: Nazi's.
Robbie [Angrily]: AN AFFECTION FOR WORLD WAR TWO-ERA GERMAN WEAPONRY DOES NOT INDICATE AN AFFECTION OR RESPECT FOR NAZI IDEOLOGIES!!!
Jericho: Touchy Nazi's.
Robbie [Scowling]: I will gut you, boy. Or maybe i'll have Lupa eat you.
Lynch: Well, with you two, all we're missing is...Dean, Samuel, Karab, Brick, Jon, Eligio, Johan, Marcos and Ivan. Everyone else being back at home, the lazy cu--
Sal [Sarcastically]: Yeah, Tavi, Courtney, Melvin, *Beep* and Mustafa, all at home. That's a lot at home. Oh dear, how will we get on without them?
Frank: Can we get a move on?
Dave: Hang on, when you said Nazi's, did you mean me?
Sal: How the hell can he? You're a Jewish biker. You're about as far from Nazi as possible.
Dave: Damn straight!
Maurice: Could go for some bloody brisket right now, like--
Dave: Sorry, Maur, I don't carry food from my Jewish mother on me.
Moe: But what about those weapons that resemble Jewish symbols?
Dave reaches into a pouch on his utility belt, pulling free several metal throwing stars shaped like Stars of David and looking at them.
Dave: ......Well, I like to leave calling cards!
Maurice: BUT NO MATZAH BALL SOUP?!
Dave: Of course I have Matzah Ball soup!
Dave reaches to the back of his belt, pulling out a large, more rectangular flask, shaking it.
Dave: But it's all mine, big boy!
Maurice: AH'M BLOODY HUNGRY!
Lynch: Fat man, you just ate a psychopathic curried mutant monster. How can you still be hungry?!
Maurice: I just am.
Frank: Uh, shall we disarm the bomb?
Lynch: Yeah yeah, lead the way, Nazi's.
Robbie [Angrily]: I AM NOT A NAZI, GOD DAMN YOU! WATCH THIS!
Robbie stomps over to Dave, wrapping his arms around and hugging him tightly. Lupa tilts her head, watching confused.
Robbie [Angrily]: SEE?! DAVE'S MY BEST FRIEND!!
Sal: Yeah, but that's like saying you can't be racist because you have a black friend.
Robbie: If I was racist, wouldn't I be a skinhead and wearing a lot of tattoos related to Hitler and Nazism?!
Jericho: Me Nan's racist, and she ain't a skinhead. Just completely out of touch with the world, like every Brit over fifty years of age.
Robbie: Well, I'm twenty three, I'm only half British, AND I JUST HAVE A FONDNESS FOR WORLD WAR TWO ERA GERMAN WEAPONRY!!!
Dave: You could try collecting weaponry from the Allies.
Robbie: But it's boring!
Lynch: You know what's boring? This fucking conversation.
Lynch walks past Robbie and Dave, turning right and heading into Strut F, followed by the mercenaries. Dave and Robbie are left on the Strut, with Robbie still hugging Dave.
Dave: Uh, Robbie?
Dave: They're gone.
Robbie: I know, Dave.
Dave: You know what else is gone?
Dave: The Claymore mines we planted here.
Robbie [Narrowing his eyes]: Then we have a traitor in our midst. HI-HO SILVER, AWAY!
Robbie snaps his ankles against Dave's sides. Dave sighs, turning around and walking into the Strut with Robbie still latched onto his back and with Lupa in tow.
*** Strut F***
The mercenaries wander in, huddling in the initial horizontal coridoor. To their left, a set of stairs wind down to the lower level. To their right, the coridoor extends forwards across their current level. Without a three-dimensional map on his bracer, Lynch will need to employ all of his skills and cunning to find the hidden C4 device that Fatman has planted.
Lynch: RIGHT, WE NEED TO FIND A BOMB!
A Gurlukovich mercenary, patrolling past the coridoor to their right, looks up at Lynch from behind his paper, before going back to reading it, coughing quietly.
Sal: What if bishie has already disarmed it?
Frank: What's a bishie?
Bill: Sounds like what a drunk redneck calls his wife!
Sal: No, it's..........y'know.
Vince: ...No, it's "Bishonen". Japanese term being "beautiful young boy".
A short silence falls over the mercenaries. Lynch points at Vince.
Lynch: You are freaking me out. [Lynch points at Sal] And you will be getting whipped for knowing that term. Can't any of you at least try to be good American soldiers?
Jericho: Good AMERICAN soldiers? Yeah, sure.
Jericho pulls out his Browning L9A1 pistol, twisting around and pointing it between Phil's eyes.
Lynch [Taken aback]: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!
Phil: Well, a good American soldier tends to friendly-fire on British soldiers. Also:
Phil starts doing a jig, reminiscent of a prospector, flailing his arms.
Phil: YEEHAW!! I'MMA SHOOT ME SOME BROWN PEOPLE!! I DON'T LIKE THEIR RELIGION!! THEY'VE GOT OIL! STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER! YEAH, BUSH!!!
Frank: Hey, that's not an American soldier!
Moe: I think you'll find that it is.
Lynch [Darkly]: Stop it, you Limey fucks.
Sal: I'm Hawaiian!
Lynch: Yes, Sal, we know: You tell us constantly.
Sal [Grinning]: I'm Hawaiia--
Lynch grabs Sal by his collar, marching him down the left-hand corridor. They emerge on a rectangular catwalk that encircles the room, ahead of them a stack of two metal crates to the left of a single crate, and below the railing is the ground floor, visible and barely guarded. Several stacks of metal crates dot the room: On the ground floor to their right, a large stack of crates closes off a wall, with a small alcove between them.
Lynch: Hm. That might hide a bomb.
Sal: Uh, boss? Let go of me?
Lynch throws Sal forward, who screams and falls backwards over a railing and downwards, hitting the ground floor with a sickening crack.
Maurice [Wandering over and looking over the railing]: Boss, yeh killed him.
Sal lets out a timid cry, his left leg twitching.
Lynch: Nah, I just horribly wounded him. Fat Man, Little Boy: On me.
Lynch turns around, walking up the corridor and turning right past the mercenaries, walking to the end of the corridor and turning right, heading down the long set of stairs to the bottom floor. Dave and Robbie with Lupa follow, as does Will. Bill and Phil head down the corridor, with Steve following, leaving Jericho, Bob, Vince and Billy to wander forward.
Vince: I'm bored. I'm going to see if I can hack some doors open and find something cool.
Vince turns left and walks around the catwalk, disappearing when he turns left down a corridor across from the catwalk.
Jericho: Where the fuck is Frank?
Frank slowly wanders out from behind them, guzzling down a bottle of turpentine.
Bob [Blinking]: Uh, Frank, that ain't healthy.
Frank: I'll say! This tastes like Turpentine!
Bob: Frank. IT IS TURPENTINE!
Frank's eyes widen and he turns the bottle around, glancing at it.
Frank: Huh. I'll be.
Bob: ...That..doesn't harm you? At all??
Frank [Smacking his lips]: Well, I have tasted far better things.
Billy wanders away to the right, just shaking his head and pulling out a hipflask.
Billy: Ach, yeh a drunken loon, Frank.
Bob: With an iron constitution, apparently.
Frank takes another drink, nodding and dropping the bottle.
Frank [Eyes twitching]: .....Durp.
Bob [Cocking an eyebrow]: That's not good.
Frank reels backwards, shaking his head.
Billy: So much feh that iron constitution.
Bob: Uh, Frank--
Billy takes another drink, but Frank stumbles forward, knocking into Billy's side. Billy jolts, his hipflask spilling against his chest. Billy stops, his head snapping over to Frank and his eyes widening.
Billy [Coldly]: Yeh jus' made me spill A SINGLE FECKIN' MALT!
Frank: Uh oh.
Billy spins around and jolts towards Frank who screams, running away, shaking from side to side as he does.
Back on the ground level, in the middle of the floor, Lynch, Maurice, Moe, Will, Dave and Robbie watch the lone Gurlukovich mercenary, standing in front of a Level 1 door down a short corridor ahead of them, reading the newspaper. Maurice taps his tubby chin, deep in thought.
Maurice: Right, lads, that door's blocked. I've got a bloody good idea, though.
Maurice pulls a cardboard box from out of nowhere, pulling it over his head and sitting down.
Dave: Really, Maur?
Maurice: It always works!
Moe: I've got an even better idea, a very sneaky way to get us inside the room!
Moe walks up to the guard, unholstering his Desert Eagle and pointing it at his abdomen.
Moe [Angrily]: Let us in. NOW.
Guard [Folding his newspaper]: Fine, whatever, I don't get paid enough for this shit anyway.
The guard walks away from the door, shoving his newspaper under his arm and stepping aside. Moe wanders in to a small room with two lockers to his right, and two lockers directly in front of him, with a small node on the wall to his right, situated to the left of the two lockers: Otherwise, there is nothing of note, aside from a metal bookcase to his right and a few metal shelving units and counters to his left.
Moe: There's nothing here! Though there is a vent..
Moe wanders over to the left of the lockers in front of him: On the bottom of the wall ahead of him is a small ventilation shaft. Moe jumps back as Jericho's head slowly slides out of it.
Jericho [In an eerily calm voice]: No bomb?
Moe [Confused]: ....Uhhh..no. No bomb.
Jericho [Whispering deathly quiet]: No bomb..
Jericho's head slowly pulls back into the vent.
Moe: Just what the fuck are you doing in there?!
Moe: FOR WHAT?!
Maurice [Calling out]: HIS BRAIN!
Lynch: Good luck finding THAT!
Moe walks outside the room, turning to Lynch and shrugging his shoulders. Lynch sighs, looking to his left at Dave and Robbie.
Lynch: Alright, surely you two found something?
Robbie: We've just been out on the bridge.
Lynch [Sighing]: Can't anyone here do any extra work?
Dave: Can YOU?
Lynch [Taken aback]: Well.........[Quietly] You win this round, Jew.
Dave [Scoffing]: Well, fuck you, Christian!
Lynch [Sighing and shaking his head]: I need a node..
Moe: There's one in here, chief.
Lynch walks into the room where Moe is as Dave and Robbie shrug, turning around and heading up the stairs to the top floor.
In a small supply room with an unlevelled door, across from the red pneumatic door leading onto the FA Connecting Bridge, sits Vince in the middle of the room, legs crossed with Rainbow Dash sitting in front of him, gazing blankly ahead. Vince turns his head to his left, looking at a small ventilation shaft, then ahead at the door, before looking down at Dash.
Vince: We're alone here, Dashie.
From the vent, Jericho's head slowly slides out. Vince scuttles back, screaming violently.
Jericho [Narrowing his eyes slowly]: I'm onto you, brony.
Jericho's head slowly slides back into the vent.
Vince: ...We're alone now.
Dash: Dude, just no. No. This is WRONG!
Vince: But it's so--
The lights suddenly switch off.
Dash: DON'T YOU DARE!!
The lights suddenly switch on. Behind Vince is Jericho, clutching a cricket bat.
Jericho: Alright, Vince. Your fetishes are getting disturbing now, and I fear for this cartoon ponies life and virginity.
Vince: ....I was just going to show her my Pokemon cards...
Vince unzips his fatigues slightly, reaching in and pulling out a small leather bag, pulling it open and flashing several Pokemon cards. Jericho blinks rapidly, raising his cricket bat over his head.
Jericho: This is for your own safety, Vince.
Vince: But my intentions are pure!
Jericho slams the cricket bat down into Vince's skull, knocking him swiftly out. Jericho tucks the cricket bat under his arm, looking down at Rainbow Dash.
Jericho: You didn't see anything.
Dash: Dude, I clearly saw you hit him with--
Jericho raises the cricket bat once more.
The lights go out, and Jericho vanishes. In the hut to the left, closest to the red pneumatic door with a door marked Level 3, Phil and Bill are scouring the room. Phil turns right, reaching into a metal crate and pulling out a sleek bullpup assault rifle with an angular handguard and trigger guard.
Bill: Holy shit, what's that?
Phil: A FAMAS. A french assault rifle. About the only thing the French actually got right.
Phil pulls back the charging handle below the angular handguard, loading the magazine into place.
Bill: Got some good stopping power.
Phil: Yeah, but the NATO-standard ammo gets ripped to shreds when it comes out of the blowback mechanism.
Phil: French fit them with bayonets too.
Phil [Laughing]: Why not?! Everything's cooler with bayonets!
Phil fits a bayonet onto the barrel, clicking it into place and grinning.
Bill: Do you know what we should do?
Bill: Scare Vince.
Phil: We totally should.
Bill: By the way, how did you get a FAMAS when they weren't programmed into the game?
Phil taps the side of his head.
Phil: Action Replay MAX.
Bill taps the side of his head.
Bill: Infinite ammo--
Bill suddenly collapses, his utility belt pockets overflowing with ammo magazines.
Bill: --FUCKING HELL, UNDO CHEAT CODE! UNDO CHEAT CODE!
The ammo magazines quickly vanish and Bill lays there, breathing heavily.
Bill: FUCKING HELL!
Jericho's head suddenly slides out of a vent behind them.
Jericho: Phil, stop shagging Bill.
Phil turns to the vent, walking over and looking down at Jericho.
Phil: There's no vent here,
Jericho: Action Replay MAX.
Phil stomps violently on Jericho's forehead. Jericho screams in pain, a bootprint emblazoned across his face as he quickly pulls his head back into the vent.
Jericho: OH GOD, SOMETHING'S IN HERE WITH ME!!
Steve's Voice [Cheerily]: HELLO, FRIEND.
Bill: Shall we just go?
Both of them exit the hut, turning left and heading towards Vince's hut, twisting around and facing the door. Phil cricks his neck from side-to-side as Vince's voice is heard, alongside Dash's.
Dash's Voice: Duuuuudeeee...that feels goooooodddd...
Vince's Voice: Dashie..your mane is so soft..
Bill: Is he grooming her or something?
Phil: Part of me is extraordinarily reluctant to step in there.
Bill: Should we go in?
The door slides open and Phil sweeps into the room, holding the FAMAS at his hip.
Phil: HEY, VINNIE, I'MMA SHOOT YOU IN THE--[Disgusted]: BY THE BEARD OF THOR, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!?
Vince [Shocked]: Oh God, Phil! DON'T LOOK!
Phil: ARE YOU GROOMING THAT FUCKING PONY?!
Inside the hut, Vince is busy combing Rainbow Dash's mane with a thick comb.
Phil [Sighing]: Dude, you've got issues.
Dash: Hey, it's better than what some bronies have drawn me doing.
Phil: Excuse me, but if I want answers from a bright-blue tomboy pony, I'll---Actually, fuck it, let's just not go there.
Phil walks away, the door sliding shut behind him.
Phil [Sighing]: Is this fucking Metal Gear Solid or that goddamn My Little Pony bollocks infecting the internet?!
Bill: What was he doing?
Phil: Grooming her.
Bill [Disgusted]: OH, GOD, HE WAS?! ISN'T THERE LAWS AGAINST THAT?!
Phil: Literally grooming her, Bill. Not sexually grooming he--Y'know what, CAN WE NOT HAVE THIS CONVERSATION?!
Phil: I don't even know what's going here anymore.
Vamp randomly jumps from the ceiling, landing in front of Phil and stroking his chin.
Vamp: Are you paying too much for your car insurance?
Vamp: I'm bored. I'm supposed to be a really bad guy, but I just show up randomly and for no apparent reason.
Phil: And that's why you're selling car insurance?
Vamp: Yes. WITH NINE THOUSAND PERCENT A.P.R!!
Ominous music. A lightning bolt scars the......ceiling.
Phil [Shocked]: YOU EVIL, EVIL CUNT!
Vamp randomly disappears.
Phil: I do love this random shit, but sometimes it just gets annoying.
Steve's Voice: I LIKE YOU, FRIEND.
Moe's Voice [Angrily]: STEVE, GET OUTTA THE VENTS!
Lynch [Impatiently]: WILL SOMEBODY HELP ME FIND THE FUCKING BOMB?!
A few moments of silence follows.
Vince [Screaming]: SOMETHING'S GOT MY LEG!!
Steve: DON'T RESIST, FRIEND.
Vince's screams fill the air, slowly dying out. The door to his hut slides open and Steve wanders out with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets, whistling as Rainbow Dash flies behind him. Bill sighs, shaking his head and turning left, going to patrol around the upper floor.
Dave [Wandering by]: I've seen it all now.
Dash: Yo, is this, y'know, a crossover?
Phil: Go fuck yourself.
Steve: Be nice! She's adorable!
Steve ruffles Dash's mane.
Steve: OH GOD, IT'S SO SILKY!!!
Phil: And to all, a good night.
Phil slams his head violently off of the railing, knocking himself unconscious and collapsing onto the floor in a foetal position.
Steve: That's his normal mode of behaviour.
Bob slowly wanders over.
Bob [Uneasily]: I'm still not used to this.
Steve: Is it any different from including wrestlers or band members?
Bob: Yes. Yes it is.
Steve: NO, IT ISN'T!
Bob: Well, at least we have decent band members making cameos. Could be worse...could be rockabilly musicians.
Steve: Silly rabbit, rockabilly musicians aren't musicians! They're drunken rednecks who think they can play a guitar!
Bob: Yeah, still, who knows? Fucking rednecks--
Bill [Calling over]: Rednecks are people too!
Bob: NO, THEY'RE NOT!
Bill throws a bottle of Jim Beam across the room, hitting Bob square between the eyes and knocking him clean out. Bill nods, grinning brightly.
Bill [Aside, to Robbie standing nearby]: YEEHAW!! I don't normally 'yeehaw' because it's stereotypical, BUT THAT WAS A FUCKING YEEHAW!
Robbie: Bet you couldn't do it with a knife.
Bill: Bet you couldn't.
Bill grins darkly. Bob slowly stumbles to his feet, watching as Robbie reaches into his belt, unbuttoning a pouch and pulling out a throwing knife.
Robbie: Watch this, Lupa.
Bob: Ah, shit.
On the bottom floor, Steve has since wandered down, walking over to Jericho who is standing in front of a set of crates, scratching his ear roughly.
Jericho: All these fucking gunshots, I swear my hearing's gone.
Lynch [Mumbling]: Stop whining.
Jericho: This better be covered in our health insurance! You should fucking supply earplugs!
Lynch [Angrily]: COME PREPARED, LIMEY!
Steve: ...Can't believe we lost AJ Styles to another curry monster.
Jericho: Can't believe we gained Joakim Broden instead.
Jericho jabs his thumb over at a young man with a wiry black, thin handlebar moustache and thin soul patch descending from his lower lip to his chin, with a shaggy mohawk on the crown of his perfectly shaven hair, his baggy eyes obscured with military aviator sunglasses, wearing a black sleeveless shirt with metal plates sewn onto it, urban camouflage pants and black boots, arms folded as he sits there.
Bob screams violently on the floor above them.
Steve: Well, at least we got an upgrade.
Broden: Why am I here?
Steve: They all ask that, Jock.
Bill: ........Jocky Kim. They all ask that.
Jericho slaps Bill around the back of his head.
Jericho: No mocking the cameo's, Bill. They're our secret weapon!
Broden lights up a cigarette, taking a drag and blowing out a thick stream of smoke.
Broden: Is there nothing to do around here?
Steve: Killing people.
Broden: Any reason?
Steve: They're bad guys.
Broden takes another drag.
Jericho: Not very talkative, is he?
Frank screams loudly, landing behind Jericho, Bill and Steve with a thunderous crash.
Broden: What was that?
Maurice waddles from behind Broden.
Maurice: Ach, that's Frank. Bloody drunkard he is.
Billy [Leaning over the railing]: Arsehole made me spill me whiskey!
Steve: Well, that is a good reason.
Lynch appears and walks past them, climbs on top of the right-hand stack of boxes forming an alcove, looking down: A small gap is available between the boxes, forming a small alcove against the wall. On the left-hand set of boxes is an unmistakeable blinking light.
Frank: You found it?
Lynch [Sarcastically]: No, Sherlock, I found your brain!
Lynch leaps into the alcove, before looking up.
Lynch: Where's Vince?
Vince's head pops over the boxes, the top of his head wrapped in bandages as Rainbow Dash floats behind him.
Lynch [Sighing]: Vince, just stop with the ponies.
Vince: But she's following me.
Lynch [Calling out]: PHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLL!!!
Phil's Voice [Distant]: SKIN PONY, WEAR AS CAPE.
Vince: Alright, alright, I'll get rid of her before the next chapter or something! Jeez...
Vince scrambles over the boxes, landing beside Vince and pulling out the coolant spray. A quick spray and the bomb has been crystallised with frost, disarming it temporarily. Lynch and Vince clamber back over the boxes, landing on their feet.
Lynch [Giving a shrill whistle]: Alright, ladies, let's go!
Broden: What should I do?
Lynch: Get Rage Against The Machine and tag along.
Broden looks over his shoulder: Rage Against The Machine: Vocalist Zack De La Rocha with his dominant afro, Tom Morello, the bald and gravel-voiced lead guitarist and guitarist extraordinaire, Brad Wilks, the drum-playing wildman and Timmy C, the towering bassist, are sitting on crates behind Broden, waving at him.
Broden: .....I see.
De La Rocha: WELCOME TO THE SUCK, BRODEN!
Broden: I don't even know why i'm here.
Morello: For the cake?
Broden: I see no cake.
Morello grins, holding up a slice of chocolate fudge cake.
Broden: Where'd you get that?
Morello: Same place we came from to get here: TIME AND SPACE!
Lynch [Angrily]: Move. Now.
Rage Against The Machine hop off the crates, following the mercenaries as they ascend the stairs. Bob wanders over and meets them in front of the door, a knife embedded in his right shoulder. Robbie and Bill grin darkly as Lynch shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
Bob [Calmly]: This is extraordinarily painful.
Lynch: Good. MOVE.
Lynch slams his right foot out, kicking Bob away.
***FA Connecting Bridge***
The mercenaries, and their cameo-fulfilling comrades, walk out onto the bridge connecting Struts F and A. Turning left, the bridge extends straight ahead to Strut A, though to their left is a set of stairs that extend downwards and to the left, reaching a bottom section of the bridge. Lynch leads his men out into the daylight, with Vince skipping jovially behind him.
Vince: This is great guys. Most of us are here. We've got a team mascot. We've got a catchphrase. What more could we ask for?
De La Rocha: MUSIC!
Bob: A holiday.
Will: Sex. Tantric sex. Tantric, no holds barred sex.
Robbie: A panzerschrecken.
Lynch: That thing is not our team mascot. If you take it to the present with us, I'll fucking slit your throat and ram that little shits head into the wound.
Vince: Just say "Hi" to her!
Rainbow Dash shoots forward. Lynch stops as she hovers in front of him, grinning brightly.
Lynch [Pointing at her, coldly]: Learn to shoot or fuck off.
Lynch pushes her aside roughly, storming towards the doorway, followed by Frank, Will and Bob. Robbie walks past her, stopping and looking at her.
Robbie: Christ, this stories went downhill, hasn't it, Dave?
Robbie continues walking, shaking his head as Dave follows.
Dave Hester [Pointing forward]: Yuuuuuuuup!
Dave Jackscar follows him.
Dave: It's getting even worse.
Bob follows Dave, and Steve follows Bob, stopping beside Dash and looking at her.
Steve: I think you're cool. In fact, you make us...twenty percent cooler.
Jericho storms forward, grabbing Steve by the back of his collar and forcably marching him forward as Phil follows, stopping beside Dash and holding out his hand.
Phil: Skin me.
Dash slams her hoof down, but Phil pulls it away.
Phil: NOT! Oh God, my life must be really pathetic when i'm tricking out a flying, pastel-blue pony with a rainbow mane into high-fiving me. KILL ME, JOAKIM!
Broden: Maybe later.
Phil and Broden walk through the doorway, followed by Zack De La Rocha, Brad Wilks and Timmy C.
Morello: I don't even know what's going on. I HOPE WE CAN DRIVE A TANK AGAIN, THOUGH! THAT WAS FUCKIN' AWESOME!
Morello walks into Strut A, followed by Bill and Maurice. Sal walks, and stops beside Rainbow Dash, pointing at her.
Dash [Pointing at Sal]: Douchebag.
Sal [Taken aback]: I OUGHTA FUCKING SLAP YOU!!
Sal slaps Dash roughly across the face.
Sal: And I FUCKING DID!!
Sal cackles loudly, running into Strut A. Dash shoots forward, slamming her head into Sal's back and sending him flying through the doorway with a crash. Bill walks forward, laughing all the way. Vince walks forward as Dash returns, floating in mid-air.
Vince: Kiss me, Dashie.
Dash: Dude. Gross.
Vince: Yeah, I know. What kind of sad fucker gets off on pastel-coloured ponies getting fucked and kissing eachother?
Vince laughs boisterously, walking past Dash who follows him. Billy steps forward, and looks at the viewer.
Billy: I'm watching yeh.
Billy follows his comrades into Strut A.
*** Strut A. ***
Back where they began, the mercenaries emerge from the right-hand door in the main room of Strut A. Wandering down the corridor and turning to the right, they watch as Raiden, flanked by Johnny and Tim, emerges from a door in front of them.
Vince: Look! It's the bishie!
Lynch sighs bitterly, rubbing his eyes.
Broden: What the hell is a 'bishie'?
Morello: I'm sure he meant to say 'bitch'.
Bob: I'm sure he meant it too.
Raiden slowly turns around, looking shocked at the ranks of the mercenaries swollen with ponies and band members.
Raiden: Uh. Hey. Lynch.
Tim: YOU CAME FOR US!!
Johnny and Tim rush over, leaping through the air and latching onto Lynch. Lynch stands there, a vein pulsing in his forehead.
Lynch [[Calmly]: Get. The fuck. Off. Of me.
Johnny and Tim quickly land on their feet beside Lynch, jogging backwards into the group. Bob pats their backs.
Bob: Welcome back.
Tim: Yeah, i'm--IS THAT RAINBOW DASH?!
Tim gazes at Rainbow Dash, who just hangs in mid-air. Vince turns his head, nodding sagely.
Vince: Tis. It is our new masco--
Billy [Angrily]: IT'S NO MASCOT O' MINE, YEH FUCKING PANSY!!!
Raiden slowly walks over.
Raiden: Uh, Lynch?
Raiden: I disarmed the bomb on this level, but I talked with Pete. He says there's definitely a bomb in the bottom section.
Raiden: He said Big Shell will tear itself apart if both Shell One and Two lose a strut at the same time. I've got this detector. Something about a hydrogen bomb detector or something. It's a sound beacon.
Lynch: So, what now?
Raiden: Head to the Deep Sea Docks and disarm it.
Lynch: Let's roll.
Raiden [Looking at Rainbow Dash]: What's with the weird little--
Lynch: Don't ask. Move on.
Raiden: ....Right. Hang on, I'm getting a call.
Lynch reaches onto the back of his belt, grabbing his walkie talkie.
Lynch: Me too.
Raiden: Pete, how's your invisible bomb?
Stillman's Voice [Audible on the walkie talkie]: I'm looking at it, but keeping my distance. How's Pliskin doing?
Pliskin's Voice [Audible on the walkie talkie]: A few more minutes. I just got to the last strut, but there are a few more enemy sentries I need to destroy and teabag.
Raiden: Does it look bad, Peter?
Stillman's Voice: Maybe. It's an odd one--the detonator hasn't been activated. But the sensors are live....which means....
Pliskin's Voice: This is Pliskin. I've located the last C4.
Stillman's Voice: Is that it!?
Pliskin's Voice: Yep, time to freeze this son of a bitch.
Stillman's Voice: Wait! Pliskin!
The sound of hissing is heard, presumably as Pliskin freezes the bomb. Suddenly there is a beeping noise on Stillman's end of the line.
Stillman's Voice: Damn! That WAS it! The detonator just woke up. It's counting down!
Raiden: What happened!?
Stillman's Voice: The big ones were rigged to be activated when all the baby C4's went offline... Raiden, the one in Shell 1 should be counting down too. Hurry!
Raiden: What's the remaining time!?
Stillman's Voice: Three hundred seconds.
Raiden: Three hundred seconds?!
Lynch: THREE HUNDRED SECONDS?!
Stillman's Voice: Raiden, move! Get to the bottom of Strut A now!
Raiden quickly hangs up, and Lynch shoves his walkie talkie into the back of his belt, both of them exchanging hasty glances.
Lynch: LET'S FUCKING MOVE OUT, MEN! THREE HUNDRED SECONDS OR WE'RE ALL RED PAINT!
Raiden and the mercenaries scream in fear. Lynch jogs up the steps, followed by the still-screaming mercenaries and Raiden. From out of nowhere, Zack De La Rocha pulls out a Cat O' Nine Tails whip, whipping the mercenaries violently.
De La Rocha: MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!
The mercenaries and Raiden burst through up onto the roof. Twisting right, they quickly head towards the elevator platform. Raiden quickly stops, getting down onto one knee.
Raiden: SHIT, A CODEC CALL!!
Lynch: Tell 'em to fuck off! I don't want more plot points explaining when we could be dying in a horrendous, fiery blaze!!
Stillman's Voice: Raiden, Pliskin, listen carefully. I fell for it.
Raiden : Fell for what?
Stillman's Voice: Fatman has my number. A proximity trigger. Microwave.
Sal: Look, I don't want to die here.
Lynch: Do any of us?!
Phil raises his hand slightly. Steve and Jericho cough loudly, and Phil quickly lowers it.
Frank: C'mon! MOVE!
A huge explosion is audible from the line, and the Shell itself vibrates slightly, the sound of an explosion audible from where they are. Stillman screams on the line which goes dead shortly after. Raiden slowly pulls his hand away.
Raiden [Shocked]: ...Stillman's.......dead.
Sal: Good, now we have no more distractions! MOVE!
Sal: He was an old black man, he was always going to die eventually for emotional purposes! MOVE!
Raiden: I LIKED PETE!!
Sal [Angrily]: HE WAS PITIFUL CANNON FODDER! MOVE!
Raiden collapses to his knees, letting loose a high-pitched sob. Billy sighs, storming over and grabbing Raiden by the scruff of his neck, throwing him over his shoulder and pointing forward, stepping onto the elevator along with the other mercenaries.
Billy: ONWARDS, MEN! AD VICTORIAM!
Broden [Singing]: EX MACHINAAAAAAAAA! NON SIBI SEEEEED!! PAAAAATRIAAAAE!!!!
The elevator descends.
***Strut A - Deep Sea Dock***
Sal pushes Raiden off of the elevator. Accompanied by the mercenaries, they quickly rush out into the storage room. Raiden skids to a halt: To their right, the door swings open and out emerges the ever-faithful Karab, an evil gleam in his eyes and his grey turban soaked as he glares angrily at Lynch, who moves Raiden aside and walks forward. From behind Karab emerges a mercenary, clad in solid grey fatigues with short brown feathered hair and short stubble: Dean Chevrolet, who is flanked by his brother, who appears similar in facial structure, with the exception of a distinct lack of stubble and mid-neck length brown hair, with piercing, almost evil, eyes: Samuel Chevrolet.
Karab [Calmly]: Lynch.
Karab lunges forward, strangling Lynch violently. Dean, Samuel, Will, Frank and Sal quickly leap into the fray, prying Karab away and pulling him away from Lynch.
Karab [Angrily]: I'LL KILL YOU!
Lynch [Laughing, rubbing his throat]: FINALLY! A MERCENARY WITH SOME FUCKING BALLS AROUND HERE!
Karab stops, cocking an eyebrow.
Karab: Wait, what?
Lynch: I'm fuckin' glad at least one of you has the balls to stand up to me! Good work!
Karab: Uh, thanks?
Frank kicks Lynch in the rear with the side of his right foot. Lynch's eyes suddenly narrow.
Lynch [Coldly]: Who just signed their death warrant?
Frank [Taken aback]: B-But didn't you say y-y-you--
Lynch spins around, latching his hands around Frank's neck and strangling him violently.
Lynch [Angrily]: I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT!
Bob, Johnny, Tim, Phil and Jericho leap forward, prying Lynch from Frank and dragging Frank backwards. Frank reels back into the group as Lynch breaths ferally.
Lynch: Do it again, and I will drown you in your own blood and piss.
Tim: Well, that's very charming, isn't it?!
Bob: Uh, Lynch? Bomb.
Lynch's head spins one hundred and eight degrees with a sickening crack, facing Raiden. The mercenaries and their cameo comrades yelp, scuttling backwards.
Raiden [Eyes widening]: ..........Uhhh...hello?
Lynch: Defuse bomb.
Lynch's head spins back, cracking violently.
Dean [Wincing]: How the fuck--
Lynch: It's Metal Gear Solid. Guess the explanation.
Johnny wanders past in a glittering, sequined blue tuxedo, holding a handful of cards, the front of which has the letter "A" on it. The lights cut out, leaving nothing but disco lights spinning around the room. Will walks beside Johnny, wearing his own glittering pink tuxedo and holding a microphone.
Will: IS IT A - THAT HIS NECK IS INCREDIBLY FLEXIBLE FROM YEARS OF MILITARY SERVICE?!
Johnny drops the card, revealing a card with the letter "B" on it.
Will: IS IT B - THAT HE ISN'T ACTUALLY ALIVE AND IS A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION, THUS ABLE TO DO EVERYTHING PREVIOUSLY THOUGH IMPOSSIBLE?!
Johnny drops the card, revealing a card with the letter "C" on it.
Will: IS IT C - NANOMACHINES?!
Johnny drops the card, revealing the final card with the letter "D" on it.
Will: OR IS IT D - HE'S THE TOUGHEST MOTHERFUCKER AROUND AND CAN DISOBEY THE LAWS OF HUMAN HEALTH AT WILL?!
The mercenaries quickly get into a huddle.
Bob: It's gotta be D.
Steve: But he said Metal Gear Solid, so it's gotta be C!
Jericho: I gotta go with C, too.
Vince: It might be B.
The mercenaries slowly turn their heads, looking at Vince.
Dean: Could be. It wouldn't surprise me....
The scene fades to white.
Dean suddenly opens his eyes. He's laying in a small metal bed, on a mattress, with dark blue covers pulled over him. A woman with long brown hair, wearing a white dress and a pink apron, but with oddly hairy legs, is busy dusting a large metal military crate at the foot of his bed. Dean sits up, running his hands over his face before yawning and stretching.
Dean: Ma...I had the worst dream...I was a mercenary..in some kind of military company in the Middle East..
Dean's Mother turns around, only to reveal she has the face of Coach Lynch.
Lynch: YOU WERE RIGHT, DEAR!!!
Dean [Screaming]: OH MY GOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!!!!!
'Lynch' cackles loudly. Dean scrambles out of bed, tripping over his dog. He rolls onto his back: His dog has the face of Bill.
Bill: Hey, watch this:
'Bill' sits on his hindlegs, licking his crotch.
Bill: Cool, huh?
Dean screams repeatedly, scrambling to his feet and barging out of his room, tumbling down a set of stairs with a wooden banister straight ahead of him. He tumbles violently down the stairs and slams into a plain wooden door, crashing through it and to the outside as the mailman walks over, revealing that he has the face of Phil.
Phil: YOUR PAPERS ARE HERE, SON.
Dean screams, scuttling backwards. Phil the Mailman looks around.
Phil: Seriously, this is your nightmare? Mine are far worse.
A huge shadow falls over them. Phil turns around and Dean looks up as a one hundred foot black dragon with a long, black ponytail flowing down its back and thick, curled horns protruding from its scalp swoops down towards them.
The scene fades to white.
Samuel: No, shut up, Dean.
Karab: I'm gonna go with A. Just to balance it out.
Phil: It's gotta be C!
Bill: Shall we go with C?
Bob: Nothing for D?
Robbie: I think D. Look at him: You can't tell me he doesn't disobey the laws of human biology.
De La Rocha: I'll go with emo guy. It's gotta be D!
Wilks: Me too.
Timmy C.: That's all of Rage Against--
Morello: B! B! B!
De La Rocha [Sighing]: Goddammit.
Maurice: Nah, it's C.
Moe: I've got to go with D!
Dave: Can we PLEASE finish this shit before the bomb detonates and turns us all into red paste?
The huddle pulls away. Jericho turns to Will, clearing his throat.
Jericho: It's C.
Will: I'm sorry.............
Jericho [Cheerfully]: BUT?!
Will: No. I'm sorry. YOU'RE WRONG, YOU UGLY PISSANT! IT'S D!
Bob, De La Rocha, Moe, Robbie, Brad Wilks and Timmy C cheer loudly. Johnny and Will turn, following Lynch as he sprints out of the room. The mercenaries follow.
They emerge in the docks where Raiden originally emerged. He jogs straight forward, heading down three metal steps and towards where the small, yellow diving craft is hanging from a metal apparatus from the ceiling, hanging above the pool of water from which Raiden entered.
Lynch: Told you. It's here.
Raiden walks forwards towards the one-manned yellow diving craft, leaning forward and noticing the large bomb beneath it. Behind him, Lynch folds his arms.
Lynch: Disarm it.
Raiden: I can't...quite...rea--
Raiden squeals, landing down into the water. Vince sighs, walking to the edge of the platform, aiming the coolant spray in the direction of the bomb, and spraying it. Though it takes longer, the bomb is eventually coated in the spray, freezing solid. The green LED quickly turns off, indicating the bomb has been temporarily decommissioned.
Vince: There we go. Easy.
Lynch sighs loudly, looking down at Raiden as he doggy-paddles in the pool.
Raiden latches onto a ladder, climbing up and standing in front of the mercenaries, sodden wet.
Broden: Is this the hero of this stupid video game?
Broden [Underwhelmed]: Fuck.
De La Rocha [Grinning]: Embrace the insanity, Joakim. EMBRACE THE INSANITY!
Raiden gets on one knee, placing his fingers to his right ear.
Lynch: Off to confer with the CO AGAIN? Jesus...
Raiden: Colonel, I've neutralized the bomb. It was a great loss for everyone.........Any damage report on the explosion?
Sal: So, Stillman's dead, bomb threat neutralized. What now?
Frank: Saving the President, isn't it?
Dave: Let no-one say that we don't earn our pay!
Raiden: What about the toxins.....Is the Big Shell stable?.......What's the next objective?......Roger that.
Raiden gets to his feet, turning and looking at the mercenaries.
Raiden: The duct diverting contaminated sea water was destroyed, central section of Shell Two is flooding. Explosion's ignited an oil slick on the surface. Aside from that, the chemicals are still in containment. No immediate danger.
Lynch: Aaaaaand bugger off.
Raiden: Wait, what?
Lynch: Look, i'm not holding your ha--
Raiden gets on one knee, holding two fingers to his right ear.
Lynch: --Disrespectful little fucking maggot!
Raiden: ...Damn! What are my orders? What should I do?
Sal: Can we just kill him?
Lynch: That would create a worse situation for our present. Raiden's, like, the closest thing we have to a hero, slicing up Gekko's and shit. What with Snake dead in our timeline, having been killed on Big Shell by a Harrier..
Phil: I hate this time travel nonsense. Makes the brain hurt.
Raiden: What about the other hostages?....[Scoffing].. Priority, my butt. They're all in danger!
Sal: Good grief. I hate this.
Raiden: Well.....I can't complete this mission by myself.
Lynch: You fucking will.
Raiden: What about the SEALs? No second attempt?.....I understand.
Raiden gets to his feet, turning to Lynch.
Raiden: A hostage was killed on the roof. In retaliation for the bomb strike. Our next mission is to rescue President Johnson.
Lynch: OUR? No, it's yours.
Lynch: We're back-up, not lackies. We should only be getting involved if Dead Cell go apeshit, giving us permission to strike back swiftly. We should not be babysitting a little faggot like you.
Johnny: What about us?
Lynch: Them neither. They're coming with us.
Lynch: THEY'RE COMING WITH US!
Tim [Grinning]: Yay.
Lynch: NOW FOLLOW ME, MEN!!!!!! WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER??!?!?!
The mercenaries and their cameo comrades let loose a loud cheer, following Lynch as he jogs up the steps and towards the open door towards the elevator room.
Raiden sighs, following the mercenaries up the corridor and into the elevator room.
Bob: Hang on, who called the elevator?
De La Rocha: Don't look at me, I used up all my magical powers getting here.
Phil [Scoffing]: You don't have any magical powers!
De la Rocha points his fingers at Phil, arcs of lightning popping out and hitting Phil in his rear. Phil screams, leaping into Jericho's arms, only for Jericho to drop him to the floor.
De La Rocha: FEAR ME!!!!!!!!!!
Frank: Seriously, who called the elevator?
The elevator descends, stopping with a ping, before the elevators doors slide open, and off walks Fortune, now solely clad in her abnormally skin-tight catsuit which doesn't even cover her legs nor arms, and carrying her railgun.
Johnny: Well, this isn't good.
Fortune: I can't tell you how happy I am to see you're alive after all...I knew this moment would come. Show yourself and finish me, like you finished off my father...OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE THE ONE TO DIE!
The rail of Fortune's railgun extends, an arc of electricity shooting between the rails.
Lynch [Angrily]: MISSY, WE'RE ON YOUR SIDE!!
Fortune raises her railgun.
Moe: Boss, she doesn't strike me as someone who'd, y'know, listen to logic and reason.
Raiden: Oh crap.
Will: Everybody, get ready to fly.
The mercenaries and Raiden dive to the left and right as Fortune fires her railgun. Landing on the right are Dave, Robbie, Lupa, Johnny, Tim, Bob, Sal, Bill and Rage Against The Machine. On the left are Raiden, Karab, Dean, Samuel, Frank, Lynch, Billy, Vince, Will, Phil, Steve, Joakim Broden, Maurice and Moe. Raiden quickly draws his SOCOM, standing up behind one of the stacks of crates and rolling out onto one knee, pointing it at Fortune.
Fortune: That's not him. This could be -- interesting. You've seen the fires of hell -- haven't you?
The elevator door pings and closes, slowly ascending to the top of Strut A, effectively stranding everyone there.
Lynch: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh shit.
Fortune: Maybe you can give me death. My name is Fortune. Lucky in war and nothing else. And without a death to call my own. Hurry. Kill me, please. Or maybe I want to live. Maybe all this is a ploy to stall you while I fire my railgun.
Phil: What an exercise in futility, Bullets can't hit her!
Maurice [Cracking his knuckles]: FISTS CAN.
Lynch: ALRIGHT BOYS, GET OUT YOUR IMPROVISED WEAPONS!!!
The mercenaries rise to their feet. Lynch pulls out a pair of trench knives. Frank pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels, smashing it against a nearby box. Billy pulls out a sgian dubh from his boot. Vince clutches Rainbow Dash in his right hand like an American Football. Will pulls a pair of nunchucks from out of the back of his pants. Phil pulls out a sock filled with cue balls. Steve reaches inside his shirt and pulls out a padded wiffle bat. Maurice pulls out an entire leg of lamb. Moe wields a blackjack. Joakim Broden reaches into his pocket and pulls out a microphone. Jericho pulls out a cricket bat. Karab unsheathes a kirpan dagger from his belt. Dean pulls out a kendo stick. Samuel reaches into the back of his belt, pulling out a blackjack. Dave pulls out a bladed menorah, a seven branched lampstand with blades in each cup. Robbie pulls out a small SS dagger. Johnny pulls out a baseball bat, while Tim pulls out a boom-mic stand. Bob swings a bicycle chain around his head. Sal threateningly wields a solid gold bullion. Bill cradles a comically-oversized duck call in both arms. Zack De La Rocha clutches a microphone, Tom Morello clutches his guitar by the neck like a baseball bat, Timmy C. clutches his bass, and Brad Wilks sharpens his drumsticks. Robbie cuts free Lupa's leash and she arches her back, growling wildly at Fortune.
Dave: It's time that JEW die!!
Lynch: You really do have the market cornered on Judaism one-liners, don't you?
Dave: Well, it ain't exactly a large market.
Frank: Since this is a major boss fight, shouldn't the scene close--
The mercenaries charge forward. Fortune fires her rail gun, and mercenaries fly left and right, scattering across the floor. Maurice, however, remains standing, leaping at Fortune and hitting her over the top of the head with the leg of lamb. Maurice is repelled, sending him skidding backwards as he glares at the lamb.
Maurice: Son of a bitch! The lamb nae working!
Moe sprints around the perimeter of the room, sprinting behind Fortune and leaping onto her left arm, pulling as hard as he can on it. Fortune looks down at him, but looks ahead as Raiden fires a few shots, the bullets simply zipping around her. Steve charges forward and leaps through the air, slamming his wiffle bat down. The bat barely touches Fortune's scalp before Steve suddenly starts levitating.
Steve: Uh oh.
Steve is thrown up into the ceiling, but he quickly grasps onto a hanging light fixture, holding onto it for dear life.
Vince: GO TEAM DASH!!
Vince throws Dash forward, who shoots towards Fortune at abnormal speed. A huge cloud of dust erupts around Fortune, a loud crash being heard as Vince thrusts his fist into the air.
Robbie: Really? The fucking Brony won?
The cloud of dust dissipates: Behind Fortune, to the left of the elevator gate, is a huge crater, in which are the twitching legs of Rainbow Dash.
Frank: And cue the waterworks.
Vince [Sobbing]: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Robbie [Pointing and laughing]: She's fucking dead!
Vince sprints over to the crater as Robbie charges forward, skidding to a halt a few feet away as Fortune glares at him.
To her left, Sal rushes forward, throwing the gold bullion at her. it simply deflects and shoots back, hitting Sal between the eyes and sending him collapsing backwards to the ground.
Robbie [Darkly]: For fucks sake. This is pointless.
Steve: I NEED HELP!
Jericho charges forward and leaps up, only for Fortune to deflect him upwards and onto the same light fixture as Steve.
Jericho: Hey, Steve.
Steve [Underwhelmed]: Not good, Jerry. Not good at all.
Jericho: Sorry, bud.
Bob rushes past Robbie, swinging his bicycle chain around his head.
Bob: TIME FOR ME TO FINALLY SAVE THE DAY!
Bob swings so hard the chain flies out of his hands towards Fortune, reflecting back. Bob ducks under it and charges forward, swinging his fist up at Fortune's abdomen. His fist falters as it reaches mere inches away from her. Bob uses his left hand to grip his elbow, trying to force his fist forwards.
Robbie: NOW IS THE TIME! COME, LUPA!
Robbie leaps forward and latches onto Fortune's left arm, swinging his dagger down. From behind Fortune, Bill leaps onto her back, latching his legs around her abdomen and hanging on tightly. From the front, Lupa charges forward, but is repelled back, flying backwards into the arms of Frank.
Frank: Good dogg--
Lupa latches her teeth around Frank's neck, who screams and falls to the floor.
Bob [Angrily]: HOW COME EVERYONE CAN HIT HER BUT ME?!
Fortune: YOU ARE WEAK!
Robbie's dagger begins to repel from Fortune's back, and she simply kicks her leg out, barely brushing Bob with her toes but sending him flying backwards across the room and into Dean and Samuel, sending them both down. Joakim quickly throws his microphone across the room, only for it to zip around Fortune and hit Robbie in the head, knocking him clean out.
De La Rocha: HA! NEW GUY MISSED!
Broden [Slyly]: Did I?
Lynch spins his trench knives and steps forward, carefully measuring Fortune. Johnny walks beside Lynch.
Johnny: Boss? What now?
Lynch: We try and fight this carefully.
Jericho [From above]: COULD USE SOME HELP!
Lynch: We wait for an opening--
Billy rushes forward and leaps at Fortune, only to fly over her shoulder and into the elevator gates behind her with a crash.
Tim: I don't like our chances.
Jericho: HELP US!
Lynch sighs, reaching over to Raiden who is crouched behind a crate and snatching his SOCOM, aiming it at the chains holding the light fixture which Steve and Jericho are latched onto and firing twice, smashing the chains and sending them crashing down to the ground. Lynch hands the SOCOM back to Raiden.
Steve [Wheezing,clutching his torso]: ....Thank you!...
Karab rushes forward, swinging his kirpan and slices at Fortune. As soon as the blade reaches millimetres before her nose, he is suddenly and inexplicably lifted off his feet and thrown up into the ceiling.
Dean: Oh, bugger.
Samuel: Well, that's not good. What do we do now?
Frank pushes Lupa off of him, stumbling to his feet and raising his bottle.
Frank [Screaming]: WE SLAY HER FOR OUR GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Frank rushes forward, but before he even reaches her, is inexplicably thrown across the room when Fortune wrinkles her nose.
Morello: THIS MAKES NO SENSE! I MUST NOW HIDE FROM HER!
Morello quickly pulls on a large fish head over his own head.
Morello: The Fish Hat will protect me.
De La Rocha: TOM, NOW IS THE TIME TO FIGHT!
Morello simply sits down, cross-legged, and folds his arms.
Wilks: Where'd he go? And why did this giant fish suddenly appear in the middle of the room?
Timmy C.: Dammit, it's almost as bad as those random cardboard boxes that appear whenever we try to see Solid Snake!
Dave rushes forward, wielding his bladed menorah.
Dave: ME? NOR, AH YOU!
Dave barrels forward, but is repelled, thrown backwards across the room as soon as he reaches Fortune.
Dean: This is useless! Nothing's working!
De La Rocha: QUICK! MAYBE THAT GIANT FISH WILL HURT HER!
Morello [Scared]: Wait, wha--UH OH!
Wilks grabs Morello's legs, Frank grabs Morello's right arm, and Dean grabs Morello's left arm.
Frank [Determined]: USE HIM AS A SPEAR, MEN!!!
De La Rocha cackles loudly as Wilks, Frank and Dean charge forward, straight towards Fortune. Fortune's head snaps up as all three men throw Morello straight at her.
Morello: MAKE WAY FOR THE NIGHTWATCHMAAAAANNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!
Morello hits her square in the chest, only to be suddenly repulsed and thrown backwards into Wilks, Frank and Dean, sending all of them straight to the floor.
Jericho: This is just taking the piss, now.
Samuel: What should we do?
Jericho: The obvious thing: Sit this one out.
Jericho walks over to the left side of the room, climbing onto a large stash of crates stuffed into an alcove and sitting on them, followed by Samuel, Dean, Steve, Johnny and Tim.
Johnny: So, what now?
Jericho: Well, Poker.
Dean: We can barely hit her!
Samuel slaps Dean around the back of his head.
Samuel [Sighing]: Enough with the sexual puns, Dean.
Dean [Grinning]: Hey, i'd poke that...[Face falls slightly]...If I could reach it.
Raiden [Suddenly getting onto one knee]: OH MAN, COLONEL!!!
Lynch [Angrily]: WE'RE FIGHTING, YOU MAD MAN! STOP CONFERRING WITH THAT OLD FUCK AND HELP US!!
Moe: Dammit, lady, we're on your side! YOUR SIDE!
Fortune [Angrily]: PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY!!
Phil rushes forward, swinging the sock of cue balls around his head.
Phil: ONE CUE BALL CRANIUM CRUSH, COMING RIGHT UP!!!
Fortune raises her rail gun as Bill leaps onto her back as well.
Bill: Lady, if you want to die, why don't you lay down and die instead of, y'know, NOT FIGHTING?!
Moe: That'd be logical. Kojima doesn't do logic.
Bill: Oh, I fucking KNOW! How else do you think this skinny little lady can have three people on her back and still carry a railgun?
Will's head pops up.
Will: Oh Fortune, you're so fine, you're so fine, your ass is mine, HEY FORTUNE!
Will's head dives back down as Phil leaps up, bringing the sock of cue balls down onto Fortune's skull. Fortune, having extraordinarily abnormal endurance for a young, skinny woman, simply shakes it off and glares at Phil.
Phil: Great, I forgot we're dealing with Konami logic.
Fortune lightly blows on Phil, who suddenly flies backwards the entire length of the room and hits the opposite wall, sliding down it and hitting the floor with a crash.
Bill [Eyes widening]: OH MY CHRIST!
Fortune rolls her shoulders: Bill, Moe and Will are thrown off with the force of a gunshot, hitting the elevators gates and sliding down it.
Lynch: Well, this is fucking pointless. COuldn't something just suddenly happen to end this madness?!
Lynch clenches his hands together in a prayer, looking at the ceiling. Billy leaps at Fortune, who coughs, causing him to fly up into the ceiling, hit it, then slam down onto the floor.
Raiden: So, bullets can't hit her, and she's abnormally strong. What's the point of this?
Lynch: Filler, my boy. Sweet, pointless filler.
Raiden fires off several more bullets which just move around her.
Raiden: Maybe a chaff grenade will work. If I let it off right here, away from her.
Raiden pulls a rectangular grenade from nowhere, pulling the pin and dropping it at his feet. It doesn't go off.
Jericho [Scowling]: That's taking the piss.
Broden throws his microphone at Fortune. The microphone shoots towards her head, but simply rises above it before hitting the elevator gates behind her.
Broden: So, how do we end this?
Raiden: Hang on, getting a call.
Lynch: Good. BATTLE STATIONS, MEN!
Every mercenary rushes beside Lynch, including Phil, Bill, Will, Bob and Billy, who were previously knocked out, turning to Fortune and adopting a fighting stance. Will adopts a praying mantis karate stance.
Will: I WILL KICK YO ASS, STRANGE AND SEXY WOMAN!
Raiden: Fatman called US?......WHAT?!...Why me?!
Lynch: Thank fuck this is going to end. Although why isn't she attacking?
Fortune [Calling over]: I don't attack during my opponents calls! It's just bad manners!
Dave: Well, that's nice.
Raiden slowly gets to his feet.
Raiden: We have four hundred seconds before he bombs us. He's put it on Strut E.
Bob: ...Four hundred...SECONDS?
The entire room falls silent.
Lynch: Well, that is definitely not good.
The elevator slowly descends, pinging as it does. The doors slide open and out steps Vamp.
Vamp: Queen, don't hurt Ocelot's men.
Fortune: They were fighting me.
Vamp: Our friend Fatman is out of control--
Lynch [Angrily]: YOU FUCKING FIRED ON US! WE COULD BARELY GO AFTER THE GIRLY PRICK WITH YOU FIRING THAT FUCKING THING AT US!
Vamp: Queen, he is nothing more than a stereotypical mad bomber now. He's completely lost sight of our ideals and, with it, his loyalty to Commander Jackson.
Frank: SHE TRIED TO HURT US!
Phil: OUR HEALTH INSURANCE COMPANIES WILL SO HEAR ABOUT THIS!
Vamp: If you would all calm down, I'm sure we could work this out without getting the lawyers involved.
Lynch: Oh, they will hear. THEY WILL HEAR!
Vamp: Let us talk about this in a calm and reasonable manner.
Lynch reaches behind a crate, randomly pulling out a random table and several chairs. Lynch takes a seat, and opposite him sits Vamp. To Vamp's left sits Fortune, while opposite Fortune sits Frank, with Sal to Lynch's right.
Vamp: Now, I hear your official complaint. Is there anything we can do to alleviate your stress?
Lynch: Compensation will be required for my mens injuries.
Phil limps over with a very oversized cast on his right leg, leaning on two crutches.
Phil [In an incredibly robotic voice]: Indeed. I am horribly injured. Money would go a long way to help my injuries.
Will walks over, wearing a blindfold.
Will [In an incredibly robotic voice]: Who said that? I am blind. Money will restore my sight.
Raiden [Watching]: WHAT'S GOING ON!?
Silence. Vamp and Fortune look over at him.
Fortune: It wasn't him.
Vamp: Very unfortunate.
Fortune: I expected more of this one, really.
Vamp: So he couldn't kill you, I see.
Fortune: Completely useless.
Vamp: Then he's all mine........once we reach an agreement.
Lynch: We want paying in full now.
Vamp: We need to wait for our demands to be answered.
Lynch: THEN WE WILL TAKE IT TO THE COURTS!
Dave: YEAH! THE COURTS!
Lynch stands up, flipping the table.
Lynch: Fuck it. MEN! TO THE ROOF!
Lynch walks onto the elevator platform and turns around, flanked by the mercenaries and their cameo comrades. The gates shut and the elevator ascends: From a crate behind Raiden lunges out Billy.
Vamp: Now we will have to deal with possible late fees because of him. He is all mine.
Fortune: Later, Vamp.
Raiden swings up his SOCOM, firing off several rounds at Fortune. Naturally, Raiden has forgot about Fortune's luck, as the bullets simply veer around her, one hitting Vamp in the stomach and the second directly in his forehead as the elevator pings before making the sound of its descent. Vamp slowly collapses backwards into Fortune's arms as she catches him, and Raiden fires off several more shots, solidifying his stupidity as they simply veer around Fortune.
Fortune: Vamp....Are you gone? No. No that bullet was meant for me... Why am I the only one that can't die? Alone again... Cheated out of death again... How long will you force me to live? How much longer, dad?
Fortune starts to cry as she cradles the 'dead' Vamp.
Fortune [Sobbing]: You've punished me enough.
Raiden slowly advances towards Fortune with his gun drawn.
Fortune: I thought you could give me peace....But you couldn't kill me either...
Raiden moves past Fortune, keeping his gun aimed at her. The elevator gates slide open, and Raiden steps onto the elevator platform, the gates shutting and the elevator ascending. Fortune's tears hit Vamp on the face, who lets out a visible breath.
Vamp: There's no need for sorrow, Queen. I died once already. I cannot die twice.
Vamp slowly looks down his body, at Billy standing there, looking blank.
Vamp: Billy. Your comrades have left you behind.
Billy: Dude, how come yeh--
Billy: Ah. Well, that explains tha' in a tedious and ham-fisted manner. Guess i'll join that bloody lot, then.
Vamp: I will now randomly disappear, only to re-appear for another boss fight for no apparent reason.
Billy: Aye, tatty-bye.
Billy walks into the elevator and presses the button, waiting as the elevator pings and Raiden steps off, the elevator making the sound of its descent.
Fortune: Well, this is awkward.
The elevator descends and the gates slide open. Billy steps in and the elevator ascends.
On the roof of Strut A, Raiden looks around at the mercenaries and their cameo comrades, each one glaring angrily at Raiden aside from Steve, whose face appears blank.
Raiden: I thought you guys weren't accompanying me?
Frank: We don't have a choice, do we?
Billy steps out as the elevator reaches the roof, and walks past Raiden.
Lynch: Let's see: Let pussy-ass albino face mad bomber on his own and get blown sky-high.........or fight fatass. IT'S FATTY BEATING TIME! No offence, men.
Most of the mercenaries, aside from Moe, Will, Sal, Tim and Billy, quickly exhale, their guts sliding out and providing a visible paunch to them.
Bob: God, we're fat.
Jericho: Blame it on Frank.
Frank [In disbelief, scoffing]: WHY ME?!
Lynch: Default setting. By the Academies count based on complaints against Frank Daniels, you also assassinated JFK, shot Bin Laden, poisoned the water supply, bombed Libya, oppressed Palestine, made ninety-four percent of mercenaries overweight, kidnapped the Lindbergh Baby--
Frank: I get it, Lynch.
Lynch [Continuing, trying not to laugh]: --Liaised with the Zodiac Killer, got Firefly cancelled--
Johnny [Angrily]: YOU MONSTER!
Lynch: But enough, IT'S CLOBBERING TIME!!
The mercenaries step forward, only to be suddenly swallowed by a red and green portal, leaving Raiden simply standing there.
Raiden [Confused]: ....I.....uhhh.....guys?.......Guys?
The scene fades.