Another (Mercenary Bites The Dust) - Part II

We return to where we left Lynch: Stuck in the pantry, inside the hotel in the middle of Aokigahara, with Dean and Vince trapped inside with him. Lynch is busy strangling Vince as Dean watches, somewhat bemused as Vince begins losing his breath, turning a slight shade of blue as Lynch clasps his hands tighter around Vince's throat.

Lynch [Growling]: POP! POP, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!

Dean [Clearing his throat]: Uh, Lynch--

Lynch [Looking over his shoulder with his hands around Vince's neck, hissing]: WHAT?!

Dean: We should probably not try killing our own. Also, we should spend energy trying to get out of here.

Lynch turns his head and looks at Vince before pulling away. Vince gasps and croaks for air, rubbing his throat. Lynch twists around and walks over to the door, grasping a small metal handle and pulling it violently: The door is stuck tightly.

Lynch [Growling]: It's no use.

Lynch slams his foot against the handle: Nothing but an echoing thud.

Dean: Man, you think there'd be a safety feature to stop people getting stuck in here.

Lynch slams his fists roughly against the metal door, letting loose a resounding bang.

Lynch [Angrily]: Fuck this place!

Vince: Well, you wanted to stay--

Lynch [Pointing at Vince without looking at him]: If you say anything else, I'll put your head through the fucking door.

Dean: That's a good plan!

The three men fall silent as footsteps echo off of the tiles in the kitchen. Dean and Lynch step backwards away from the door, listening carefully.

Dean: Well, we're fucked.

Vince: Any last words?

Lynch [Muttering]: The only easy day was yesterday...[Angrily]....BEFORE WE CAME TO THIS STUPID PLACE!!!!!

The footsteps grow louder. Vince looks around desperately, presumably for a weapon. Dean and Lynch simply watch the door with steely-eyed determination, having accepted their grim fate.

Dean [Quietly]: So, who is it? A creepy woman with a slit mouth or the ghost of a samurai sprouting up for no apparent fucking reason?

Lynch [Grimacing]: Oh, please be the fucking latter. Maybe it'll be quicker.

Lynch, Dean and Vince can only watch on as the door opens, a crack of light filling the room as a shadow appears in the doorway..........who reveals himself as Eligio as he reaches in and turns to his left, flicking on a lightswitch that they apparently did not know was there.

Eligio: What are you all doing in the pantry?

Lynch: We were locked in here!

Eligio [Shrugging]: Well, let's go.

Vince, Lynch and Dean [Desperately, in unison]: THE DOOR!!

The door begins to shut. Eligio turns around, grasping the door and shoving it open again before twisting around and placing his back against it, holding it open for them.

Eligio [Chuckling]: I'm not stupid, mi amigos. Come on, we need to find the others and get out of here!

Lynch [Walking out of the pantry]: How did you guys break out of the doors anyway?

Eligio: We took the fire exit route. We don't know what was blocking the double doors but it was too stupid to block the fire door, at least!

Lynch: Have the others joined you? Or have they ran off like little bitches?

Eligio: Mi amigos are there. Bob, Frank, Sal, Brick, Bill and Jon are there too. The others...aren't.

Lynch: Where the fuck are they, then?

Eligio: Everyone else is running around randomly, trying to escape the many things that are intent on killing us for no apparent reason. The ones who are keeping their heads are keeping watch in the main hall.

Lynch: Right, well, let's find everyone else and try to gather them, then.

Dean, Lynch and Vince walk out of the pantry, following Eligio into the kitchen.

***

In the main room, Johan and Mustafa have since opened the doors outside, placing their backs against the heavy doors to keep them open. Inside the main room itself, Melvin, That Other Random Guy, Marcos and Bobby are stood around the chandelier. That Other Random Guy is still stuck within his sleeping bag, standing there and looking around aimlessly.

That Other Random Guy: Can someone please get me out of this fucking sleeping bag?

Johan walks over, leaning down and reaching into his right sock, pulling out a bowie knife and approaching That Other Random Guy, whose eyes widen.

That Other Random Guy: Fucking hell, Johan, be careful!

Johan: You know me.

Johan grips the strings of the sleeping bag, pressing the tip of the blade between them. That Other Random Guy breathes in as Johan swipes the blade down, hacking through the cloth and padding with ease and making a small incision, roughly two inches. Johan sheathes the blade in the back of the belt around his cargo shorts and grips the bag either side of the cut, pulling his arms apart and tearing the bag open violently. That Other Random Guy steps out, dusting off his sky blue Hawaiian short and beige cargo shorts.

That Other Random Guy: Thanks, buddy.

Bobby [Looking around]: Where the hell are the others?

Frank [Leaning over the balcony to their left]: Up here!

Sal quickly appears behind Frank.

Sal [Quietly]: I've come for you.

Frank yelps suddenly, tipping over the railing and screaming, hitting the floor with a crash. Sal leans over the railing, pointing down and laughing loudly. Brick bursts out from the Eastern wing, grabbing Sal's legs and tipping him over the balcony. Sal screams, falling downwards and onto Frank, who twitches in pain.

Frank [Screaming]: YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!

Brick [Smirking, nodding]: That's right!

From the Western wing emerges Jon, shoving the doors open and smacking his lips, grasping the railing and looking across at Brick.

Jon [Calling over]: Brick, i'm light-headed, what now?

Brick [Shrugging]: We get some more when we leave!

Melvin [Looking up and laughing]: Hey, look at Jon, our happy little stoner!

Jon [Screaming angrily]: FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING MOTHER!!!!!!

Melvin [Laughing]: Oh, Jon, you're so easy to anger!

Jon vaults over the railing, landing on his feet on the floor below. His legs buckle violently and he hits the floor, clutching his right leg.

Jon [In pain, angrily]: FUCKING ANKLE!!!

Mustafa [Looking over at Jon]: Goddammit, Jon, don't fall a great height onto your feet. That's just asking for a dislocation.

Jon [In pain, angrily]: I'LL REMEMBER THAT FOR THE FUTURE!!!!!!!

Brick walks down the stairs as Maurice and Moe walk out from the Eastern wing with Bob in tow. Phil, with Jericho, Steve and Ivan in tow, walk out from the Western wing. Jericho begins buttoning up his trench coat.

Jericho [Calmly]: Well, i'm ready to leave.

Ivan: Vell, it vas fun vhile it lasted.

Karab and Samuel walk out from the Western wing behind Phil.

Karab: Well, here we go.

Phil: Where's the boss, anyway?

Bill [Looking up]: We think he got stuck in the pantry or something.

Phil: Lynch? In the pantry? Fucking hell, was the Kuchisake-Onna gonna eat him?

Bob: Could be worse.

Samuel [Slyly]: Yeah, could be tentacles.

Bob [Narrowing his eyes, looking over at Samuel]: Fuck you.

Samuel, karab, Phil, Jericho, Steve and Ivan head down the stairs to join the group, as do Maurice, Moe and Bob.

Melvin: I wish he'd hurry up. It feels like we're about to be ambushed at any minute.

Bobb [Cracking his knuckles]: Nothing's going to ambush us while we're here, little man.

The doors to the Eastern wing open and Will slowly peers his head out, looking around cautiously.

Will [Calling out]: IS THERE ANYTHING DANGEROUS OUT THERE???

Mustafa [Looking up at Will]: All of us!

Will [Hesitantly]: No, I mean...something that could kill me!

Mustafa [Chuckling]: All of us!

Will [Sighing]: I mean some weird Japanese thing!

That Other Random Guy: Come on down, you big baby! We're safe here!

Will is shoved roughly through the doors as Dave and Robbie appear behind him.

Dave [Angrily]: MOVE IT, YOU BIG BABY!!

Will [Angrily, spinning around]: FUCK YOU, GAY BOY!!

Dave grabs Will by the throat, forcing him backwards against the railing and glaring at him.

Dave [Quietly]: I swear to God that I will snap your neck should your mouth open again.

Will gulps and Dave pushes him away, walking down the stairs.

Robbie: Seriously, why are people thinking we're gay? Sal hangs out with Vince and Billy in a secluded mansion and yet no-one thinks he loves cock!

Sal [Looking up at Robbie]: That's because they fucking disgust me! If I was gay, i'd go for someone a lot better!

Steve: Don't lie, Sal.

Sal [Scoffing]: Well, sorry if I have high standards, Steve!

Samuel: ...Why are we even having this conversation?

Finally, from the Western wing, emerge Billy with Johnny and Tim in tow. Johnny and Tim are looking around cautiously as Billy swings his sock filled with bars of soap around his head.

Sal: Speaking of homosexuals!

Billy [Calling out]: WHO'S READY FOR A POUNDIN'?!

Bill: Hey, Billy, we're all safe here.

Billy: Ach, I was talkin' about who wants it in general! [Walking over to the railing and looking down at the mercenaries]: Specifically yeh, Will!

Will [Sneering]: Come and get it, skirt wearer.

Billy rushes to the stairs, sprinting down them. Will screams, rushing towards Bobby and huddling behind him as Billy rushes over, swinging the sock threateningly around his head.

Billy [Angrily]: YEH CANNAE HIDE FOREVER, WILL!!

Will: I can and will!

Bobby clears his throat, side-stepping to the left and leaving Will unguarded. Will looks up, whimpering.

Will [Laughing nervously]: Hey, Billy!....Don't kill me!

Jericho: Die with some bloody courage!

Will [Bluntly]: Never.

Johnny and Tim walk downstairs as the dining room doors are thrust open. Lynch, Dean, Eligio and Vince walk through the doors and into the main hall, looking around.

Lynch: Alright, follow me. We're going to get my phone. And we should probably get the sugar glider too.

Lynch walks forward, the mercenaries following as he begins to walk up the left-hand set of stairs. The mercenaries are sticking together in a tight huddle.

Johan: Can we get any closer?

Frank: Hey, we should stick close: I don't want to die!

Sal: Everybody knows that it's the dude at the back dies first.

Frank: No, it's the person at the front who dies first.

Eligio: Sometimes its a guy from the side who gets picked off.

Lynch sighs, stopping.

Lynch [Looking over his shoulder]: What do we do, then?

Phil [Stepping forward, suddenly wearing a full set of Centurion armour, complete with crested helmet]: FORM TESTUDO!!!

Lynch [Sighing darkly and facepalming]: Please no..

Jericho: It's a good idea. We get a load of shielding stuff, hold it over our heads and to our sides, the guys in front hold shields in front of them, guys at the back hold shields in front of them. Voila! Mobile protection!

Lynch's eyes suddenly widen and he snaps his fingers.

Lynch: TO THE DINING ROOM, THEN!

Lynch and the mercenaries rush through the double doors and into the dining room.

***

The doors into the Western wing open and two tables, placed vertically, slowly squeeze through the doors with Johan and Marcos carrying them. Sidestepping behind them are Bill, Jon, Brick, Dave, Robbie and Vince to the right, carrying tables horizontally, with Johnny, Tim, Mustafa and Bobby to the left, also carrying tables horizontally with Mustafa and Bobby carrying one table themselves. Behind them are Eligio, Melvin, That Other Random Guy and Billy, carrying tables horizontally and blocking in the rest of the mercenaries. In the middle of the huddle stands Phil, still dressed as a Centurion, with Lynch in front of him. For some reason, Maurice, Sal, Jericho, Ivan and Bob are holding chairs up to the ceiling. The testudo of tables slowly shuffles down the corridor. Phil looks around.

Phil: Alright, where are we going?

The testudo stops.

Dean: Y'know, where do people go when their house is haunted and they're under attack by malevolent spirits?

Moe: They usually run around the house. Screaming. And running into the dead corpses of their friends. Sometimes they run outside, alone, in a random direction. Into the dead corpses of their friends.

Tim: Lotta death, huh?

Johnny: As long as we stick together, we should be fine..........hopefully.

Lynch: Okay, so, does anyone have a mobile phone?

The mercenaries look around at eachother, shaking their heads and letting out a resounding 'No' amongst them.

Lynch: So, we're on the right track, cause we gotta get my phone.

The testudo slowly, silently begins to move forward.

Phil [Singing suddenly]: Who do you think you are kidding Mister Hitler, if you think we're on the run?

Jericho: Don't, Phil. Just don't.

Mustafa: And technically, we ARE on the run.

The testudo continues slowly moving up the hallway

Vince: Guys--

Lynch [Angrily]: WHAT?!

Vince: Jisatsu means 'Suicide'. Just thought i'd let you know.

Jon: So, we're staying in Hotel Suicide?

Eligio: It's better than the Hotel California.

Mercenaries [Singing jovially, all in unison]: WELCOME TO THE HOTEL CALIFORNIAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Lynch [Laughing]: Sweet Baby Jesus, I hope we can leave..

The mercenaries stop at the end of the hallway: Sal, Brick, Bob and Steve step aside and allow Lynch access to his door. Lynch walks into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. A small, tense silence follows.

Mustafa: I can't believe we're in a testudo.

Phil: Don't question the testudo.

Eligio: Seriously, Phil, you need to go to a doctor: You've got to be crazy.

Phil: Just because I am aware of ancient battle techniques. Which are working.

Tim: Until Foxy charges at us.

Dave: He'll just bounce!...........A ghost, on the other hand..

A small murmur of agreement goes up.

Phil [Coldly]: Shut the fuck up.

All of a sudden, a bloodcurdling scream is heard from Lynch's room, followed by pounding on the door.

Lynch [Screaming]: OH GOD, SOMETHING'S GOT ME!!

The mercenaries look around, screaming wildly as Lynch claws at the door. Frank runs forward, pulling violently at the handle.

Frank [Screaming]: WE'RE COMING FOR YOU, LYNCH!!

Lynch [Desperately]: HEEEEEELLLLLPPPPPPP!!!

Tim [Panicking]: OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD!

Tim drops his half of the table, bolting off down the hallway. Sal screams, running down the opposite end of the hallway and hurtling himself through the double doors. Frank wrenches the handle violently as it's pulled off in his hands. Frank gazes at the handle, screaming.

Bill [Desperately]: LYNCH!

Dean [Panicking]: Not good, Not good, Not good, Not good, NOT GOOD!!!!

Blood starts to pour through the hole where the handle used to be and the mercenaries drop their chairs and tables, scuttling backwards and screaming even louder. They stop, hearing laughter as the door is booted open violently and Lynch walks out, clutching a bottle of tomato ketchup and doubling over, clutching his stomach as he laughs wildly.

Eligio [Angrily]: HIJO DE PUTA!!!!

Lynch [Laughing, pointing at them]: YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FUCKIN' FACES!!!!

Samuel: FUCK YOU!!!

Lynch [Slapping his thighs, laughing loudly]: Oh, God, you're killing me! Stop!

Dave [Angrily]: Fuck off, Lynch! Sal and Tim just ran away!

Lynch [Suddenly stopping laughing and throwing up his arms]: Oh, for FUCKS sake! Can you assholes just stop running for a few seconds?!

Johnny: We really should get them!

Lynch [Sighing bitterly]: We'll go to the main hall and we'll wait for them. THAT'S ALL!

Mustafa: But they might ran into a masked man and get eviscerated violently!

Johnny pales suddenly.

Lynch [Sarcastically]: Ha ha, very fucking funny Mustafa. Look, shut up and move forward..............NOW, YOU FOUR! MOVE!

Eligio, Melvin, That Other Random Guy and Billy start moving forward as the testudo now begins to move up the hallway and towards the double doors. Lynch sighs, walking besides Phil as the testudo slowly moves forward.

Lynch [Coldly]: Bunch of faggots. Can't you guys stop running?!

Phil: It's in our nature: See danger, shoot it. Can't shoot it? Run the fuck away.

Frank: I think you'll find it's a very good reflex to have. Unless the enemy shoots you in the back. Then it's just a case of dying tired.

The doors are slowly pushed open by the tables as the testudo makes its way out into the hallway, slowly and awkwardly descending down the nearest set of stairs. Lynch spins his phone in his hand, whistling to himself.

Maurice: You sound oddly happy, lad.

Lynch: Well, we've got a phone. Just gotta get to Mount Fuji for an evac.

Brick: We'll be safe, guys!

That Other Random Guy [Mumbling]: I doubt that somehow...

As the mercenaries reach the floor, a knocking booms against the doors. The testudo, standing in the middle of the floor, quickly faces the doors.

Johnny: Aw shit!

Phil: Steady! Steady!

Jon [Looking around]: Ghosts don't knock. What the hell is it?

The knocking booms against the doors again. The mercenaries whimper, the testudo stepping backwards.

Vince: Maybe it's something evil!

Frank: Something foul!

Dick: Something sinister!

Phil walks out of the testudo, walking towards the door and grasping the handles, wrenching it open: A delivery boy, standing in front of a red moped and wearing a Domino's Pizza uniform, is standing there.

Pizza Delivery Man: Who ordered the Domino's?

The mercenaries fall silent. Lynch drops his table on the floor and steps forward.

Lynch: Yeah, we're hungry. That'd be me.

Sal: Sweet!

Pizza Delivery Man: Dude, I got here from Arizona in less than thirty minutes, I'm going to want a tip.

Lynch: Sure.

Lynch takes the pizzas before kicking the door shut.

Lynch [Impatiently]: HERE'S YOUR TIP: DON'T FUCK WITH A NAVY SEAL!!

Lynch turns to the group, nodding.

Lynch: Well, they're getting faster, at least.

Maurice: Bloody lovely, mate!

Lynch: Alright, ladies, stay here and hold the fort: I'm going to put these in the dining room where we can eat........We did leave a table, didn't we?

Melvin: Yeah, one.

Lynch: That'll do.

Lynch walks through the mercenaries and pushes his shoulders against the double doors into the dining room, forcing them open and walking inside. The mercenaries simply stand there, holding up their tables, and waiting.

Johnny: Hey, i'm curious...

Sal: What?

Johnny: ....Billy, what happened to Foxy?

A silence descends across the mercenaries.

Billy: That's a good question--

Seemingly on cue, the front doors open and the skeletal robotic form of Foxy the Fox bursts out. The mercenaries fall silent. Foxy screams. As does Phil. As do the rest of the mercenaries. Phil throws down his scutum and gladius, screaming and sprinting up the stairs, away from Foxy and bursting through the doors into the West wing.

Eligio [Watching]: The boy sure doesn't handle jumpscares well.

Marcos: What do we do about our cybernetic friend?

Foxy quickly twists around, sprinting out of the front doors for no apparent reason.

Eligio [Placing a hand on Marcos's shoulder]: Let him go. He is Japan's problem now.

Lynch walks into the main room from the dining room, looking around and narrowing his eyes.

Lynch: Where the fuck did Phil go?

Sal: Foxy came in and screamed at us, so he pissed himself and ran.

Lynch [Coldly]: Right, fuck it. We're eating and then making this last visit to the Eastern wing, gathering who we can, and THEN we're leaving. No ifs, no ands, no buts.

Vince: What about the--

Lynch: They're cowards. They will find their way. After all, that's probably what Dick, Al and Dion did. And stop this testudo shit.

As the mercenaries begin dropping their tables and chairs, finally stopping their nonsensical testudo, Tavi is heading towards the double doors towards the Eastern wing. Without warning, the Kuchisake-Onna suddenly appears in front of the doors, her wide grin glistening in the moonlight as she clutches her pair of scissors, snipping them threateningly.

Tavi [Quietly]: What do you want, you mad bitch?

Owner [Grinning eerily]: To kill the hairy barbarians.

Tavi cracks her knuckles, watching as the Owner slowly walks towards her. Phil rushes around the corner behind her in the hallway, noticing the Kuchisake-Onna and sprinting forward.

Phil [Energetically]: HEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Kuchisake-Onna twists around, only for Phil to throw himself through the air sideways, slamming the brunt of his body into the demon. The skinny form of the Kuchisake-Onna is sent to the floor swiftly as Phil lands on his feet, his Centurion helmet disloging from his head and rolling across the floor. Phil stumbles forward and looks at Tavi.

Tavi [Folding her arms]: Are you quite done?

Phil: Let's fucking get outta here!

Tavi: Are you suggesting we run away?

Phil: Me and you, let's run the fuck outta here, find the nearest road, hijack a car and head to Tokyo!

Tavi [Narrowing her eyes]: You mad bastard, if the others find out we've abandoned them--

Phil: They'd do the same to us,

Tavi [Shrugging]: You're right. Let's roll.

Tavi turns to the room to her left, wrenching open the door and walking inside. Phil follows as she grips the window in front of Room C, pulling it open and climbing out onto a thin ledge, leaping downwards and onto the grass below, rolling through the impact. Phil swings his leg through the window, lifting and looping his other leg through the window so he's sitting on the ledge.

Phil [Calling out]: LOOK OUT! HERE COMES NEW JACK! IT'S THE ORIGINAL GANGSTA NEW JACK! HE MADE GOOD ON HIS WORD!!!

Phil drops down from the window, falling downwards and hitting the grass with a crunch, rolling haphazardly through the impact as they both begin running up the driveway.

***

The mercenaries, with Lynch at the helm, enter the Eastern wing: Lynch walks forward, looking around. His foot collides with the centurion helmet, kicking it forward. Lynch looks at the floor, then at the windows, the third one of which has been opened. Lynch looks out of the open window, looking left and right.

Lynch: So, someone's got away.

Steve: Do you think it's Phil and Tavi?

Lynch [Pulling back, Sniffing the air]: I smell wet dog and piss. Must be.

Jericho [Leaning down and picking up the Centurion's helmet]: Yeah, it's definitely Phil. So he's gone. Are we missing anyone?

Lynch: Yeah, we've lost Dean, Karab and Samuel.

Frank: And Dick, Dion and Al!

Lynch: They've probably ran the fuck away by now.

Sal: Fuck, we're rolling in light!

Lynch [Determined]: Leave them! TOGETHER, WE WILL SLAP THE JAP OFF THE MAP!

The mercenaries go silent.

Johnny: Don't you think that was a tad racist?

Vince: A TAD?! That's some American propaganda you're spewing!

Samuel [In disbelief]: Fucking hell, Lynch! You can't just say that!

Lynch [Quickly]: My grandfather was a Marine, he said it ALL the time!

Johan: That doesn't make it any better.

Lynch: Look, shut up and follow me. We're only missing eight people. For a trip with a company from the Academy, i'd say that's a personal goddamn best.

Maurice: Bloody hell, Lynch, are we really gonna leave them?

Lynch [Turning to Maurice and clasping his hands on his shoulders]: Look here, big boy: I have never underestimated any of you. I also do not underestimate the cowardice of any of you, which means that I know people have ran the fuck away by now.

Johan: He does have a point.

Moe: Well, boss, let's go!

Lynch: First of all, we need to think of a plan of action: If we walk into a random direction, we will be walking into some kind of disaster or possibly cross a serial killer who will spend two hours murdering us in hilariously violent ways.

Vince: Well, we could head towards Mount Fuji. I mean, on top of Mount Fuji, I suppose we could get a signal for our phones and we could use it to phone Mother for an evac.

Lynch [Appearing slightly nervous]: Well, Vince, i'd rather it not come to that..

Brick [Snapping his fingers and grinning]: I COULD CALL ZEMUS!!     

Jon [Desperately]: Please, no.

Brick [Turning and looking at Jon]: C'mon, buddy, he owes me a favour and could pick us all up from Fuji!

Lynch: Sounds good to me.

Moe: But Zemus is crazy! Remember when we went to Bulgaria to save Eligio?! He was drunk!

Bob: But he...kinda got us there in one piece.

Lynch: Exactly. Now, follow me. We're going to Mount Fuji, we're calling in Zemus and we're getting the fuck out of here.

Lynch leads his few mercenaries out through the double doors and into the main hallway. Heading downstairs, Lynch leads his mercenaries outside, unaware that Dean, Karab and Samuel are still inside the mansion..

***

In Room B-2 on the Western wing, Dean is in the bathroom. He walks over to the toilet, sighing and unzipping his shorts.

Dean: C'mon, big boy..

Dean sighs loudly, beginning to urinate as crackling is heard in the bedroom, where Samuel is sweeping the entirety of the room with an ESP detector. Dean looks around in the darkened bathroom, shuddering his shoulders.

Dean: So, i'm alone. Peeing. In the dark. In a haunted house. How the hell do I frighten off the ghosts?...

Dean hums quietly, urinating for a few seconds before he bursts into song.

Dean [In a booming, acapella voice]: IIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSS THIS THE WAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY TOOOOO AMARRRRIIIILLLOOOOOO?!?!? EVERYNIGHT IIIIIIIII'MMMMMMMMMMMMMM HUGGING MYYYYYYYYYY PILLOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! DREAMING DREAMS OF AMMMMAAAAARRRRIIILLLLLLOOOOOOOOO!!! FOR SWEET MAAAAAAARIEEEEEEEEEE WHO WAITS FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Girl: Try turning on the light.

Dean: ...........Well, it's a good thing i'm peeing, or I'd piss my pants.

Dean whistles to himself, quickly zipping up and flushing before turning around, turning on the light, nodding, clutching his head in his hands and screaming violently. Samuel quickly boots the door open and grasps the bathroom door, pulling it open.

Samuel [Panicking]: DEAN?!?!?

Dean: THELITTLEGIRLSPOKETOMEAGAIN!!!

Samuel: Alright, Dean, get up!

Dean [Screaming]: GOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDFUCKINGDAAAAMMMMIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!

Samuel [Impatiently]: DEAN!!!

Samuel pulls Dean to his feet, slapping him sharply around his cheek with his right hand. Dean begins to hyperventilate, and Samuel slaps his with his other hand, followed by a second right-handed slap. Dean keeps hyperventilating, and Samuel shrugs, slapping him with both hands at once. Dean reels backwards against the wall, shaking his head roughly.

Dean [Hastily]: I'm fine! I'm cool!

Karab pulls the bathroom door open, rushing in and looking around.

Karab: I heard screaming.

Samuel: It was just Dean.

Karab [Crestfallen]: As always.

Dean [Bluntly]: Fuck you.

Karab: Well, I come bearing bad news.

Samuel: Go on.

Karab: The others have left, gone outside.

Samuel: So, we're all alone in here?

Dean [Narrowing his eyes]: Calculations say that we're utterly screwed.

Samuel: No, we're not.

Dean: Why?

Samuel: Group huddle.

Karab, Dean and Samuel huddle up, placing their arms around eachothers shoulders.

Samuel: We go into the kitchen, take all the salt we can, and line the main doorways. That'll stop ghosts and spirits. For everything else, we take some gas canisters from the kitchen. We place one in the western wing, one in the eastern wing, light them and throw lit books of matches into the room. That should cause enough fire and damage to begin burning the place down.

Dean: And if there are no gas canisters?

Samuel [Calmly]: Trust me, I know that there will be very conveniently placed gas canisters.

Karab: Let's not wait, then.

Samuel, Dean and Karab head through the double doors and into the dining room. They look ahead at the lone table standing in front of a rough stack of tables and chairs: Sal and Tim are standing there, eating pizza.

Dean: ...Uh, hi?

Sal [Turning around and waving]: Yo.

Samuel: ....Why are you guys here?

Tim: ....Pizza.

Samuel: But...we need to destroy the inn.

Tim: Oh. Well....pizza?

Dean [Looking at Samuel hopefully]: Pizza?!

Samuel [Sighing]: ...Pizza.

Dean runs towards the giddily table as Karab and Samuel sigh in unison.

***

Outside, the mercenaries who begin to escape from the inn are heading south towards Mount Fuji. The sea of trees unfolding in front of them completely obscure their view, something multiplied by the fact that darkness has fallen, lending itself to the eerie, still atmosphere of the forest. The only thing that can be heard are leaves and twigs crunching and snapping underfoot as the mercenaries march forward.

Johnny: So, is this your first trip where we've left with more than people than are returning?

Lynch [Coldly]: No.

Bill: That's a stupid question. I bet Lynch has seen hundreds of people die under his command!

Lynch: No, I just abandon the stupid cunts.

Bill: Charming.

Lynch stops, as do the other mercenaries: In the darkness, their mindless wandering is pointless, only serving for them to lose their sense of direction and drive them deeper into a cold, unforgiving forest. Frank snaps his fingers suddenly.

Frank: Let's follow the northern star!

Frank points up to the sky, directly at the canopy of leaves and branches that completely obscure any and all views of the sky above them.

Lynch [Looking up, Sarcastically]: Fuck me, I see a beacon of hope!

Frank [Chuckling, lowering his hand]: My mistake--

Lynch [Sarcastically]: NO, REALLY, I SEE IT! IT'S RIGHT FUCKING THERE! AS CLEAR AS THE FUCKING DAYLIGHT!

Frank: Alrigh--

Lynch [Sarcastically, clapping]: PRAISE BE TO BABY FUCKING JESUS! WE ARE SAVED!! [Turning to Frank] Please go one second without being retarded.

Dave [Laughing]: You know that's impossible, Lynch!

Moe: So, where do we go?

The mercenaries fall silent.

Vince: Well, this inn is to the North. Right now, we're heading South, right?

Lynch: Not a fucking clue.

Vince: Well...let's head off in one direction! I mean, we keep walking and surely we'll escape, right?

Lynch: Fine, but you take the lead. You can die the horrendously violent death.

Vince sighs, turning left and walking off into the forest. The mercenaries quickly follow, the unnerving silence surrounding them.

Billy: Yeh know, Foxy is oot here.

Mustafa [Cracking his knuckles]: Let the robot come.

Bill: I hate this place..

Jon [Darkly]: We all do.

Billy: Ain't that bad.

Jon [Darkly]: We're in the middle of a forest famous for being a suicide hotspot.

Jericho: Could be worse.

Jon: How?

Jericho: Could be in England.

A murmur of agreement rolls across the mercenaries.

Bob [Quietly]: There's nothing wrong with England..

Jericho: I'm English and even I admit that England has problems.

Vince [Piping up]: Guys, I hear water....we must be close to Lake Saiko.

Lynch: Does that mean we're getting closer to Fuji?

Vince: Well, we have to pass over quite a few roads to get there.

Lynch: .....So, we'll be out of this fucking forest soon?

Vince: Quite soon. Still a fair amount of walking to do. Saiko will provide us with a clearing to let us get our bearings.

Bob: Thank God for that. This place smells weird and i'm pretty sure there's corpses lying around.

Vince [Chuckling]: Oh, there are a lot of corpses lying around. And, literally, hanging around.

Eligio [Sarcastically]: Such a wonderful place to go on holiday!

Lynch: Hey, it's a Halloween holiday, we wanted to go somewhere spooky.

Will [Scoffing]: Did we really? DID WE REALLY?!

Steve: Just because you wanted to be arrested for fondling someone on the subway...

Will [Smirking]: If only...

Steve: Will, if you do, you will get arrested, and the Japanese aren't known for being too accommodating towards foreigners who are arrested here. You'd have to search high and low for someone to communicate with the police for you.

Frank: And let's face it: Nobody in their right mind would defend you.

Will [Coldly]: Fuck off.

A sudden scuttling is heard behind them: The mercenaries stop, looking around.

Brick: Aw shit.

Jon [Cautiously]: What is that?

Lynch [Hissing]: Shut up for a second!

The mercenaries fall silent. Eligio yelps.

Frank: Eligio?!

The sound of a slap is heard, followed by a whimper.

Eligio [Angrily]: Fuck you, Melvin, keep your feet to yourself!

Lynch [Angrily]: Can you all just shut up for a few seconds?!

Bob: Maybe we're just hearing shit!

The mercenaries fall silent for a few more seconds. Another crackling of leaves is heard.

Brick: This is great, we can't see shit!

Frank: Did anybody bring an iPod or a phone?!

A murmuring rolls across the mercenaries, mostly in disagreement.

Lynch [In disbelief]: I told you to bring your fucking phones!

Maurice: We did nae think yeh were bloody serious, Lynch!

Lynch [Exasperated]: Of course I was serious! Right, shut up, hang on...

Lynch fumbles in his pocket, pulling out his mobile phone and pressing a button. The screen lights up and Lynch holds the phone outwards, scanning across the mercenaries who wince as the light passes across them. Moe waves his hand, standing between Johan and Mustafa, while Jon simply stands there with his arms folded. Lynch steps forward towards Eligio, Melvin and That Other Random Guy, shining the light across them.

Melvin: Boo.

The scuttling sounds again. Lynch turns around, shining the light behind him: Standing behind Will is the skeletal, mechanical form of Foxy, hook glistening in the moonlight. Every mercenary suddenly turns their head towards Foxy, their eyes widening.

Will: I've seen that look before!

Frank: Uh, Will--

Will sprints forward.

Will [Screaming]: I'M NOT AN IDIOT! I KNEW SOMETHING WAS BEHIND ME!!!

Foxy lets loose a loud screech as the mercenaries scream.

Frank [Pointing and screaming]: HOLY FUCKING BALLS!!!!!!!

Eligio [Screaming]: RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!

Every mercenary follows Will as Foxy gives chase. Without thinking, Mustafa twists around, holding out his right arm: Foxy collides with the trunk-like arm of Mustafa, sending itself to the floor. Mustafa twists around, pointing ahead.

Mustafa [Bellowing]: HE'S DOWN! KEEP RUNNING!!!!

Bobby: Nice on!

Eligio [Panting heavily]: Good job, mi amigo!

Bob [Screaming]: HOLY SHIT, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!

Bobby [Chuckling]: Damn, Bob, you should try chilling out.

Johan: Yeah, screaming will just make the robot angrier and tear you apart first.

Jon [Breathing heavily]: SCREAM, BOB! SCREAM LIKE A BITCH!

Bob [Angrily]: FUCK YOU!

The mercenaries burst forward, breaching through the perimeter of the forest and coming across a large, expansive lake, flanked by rolling hills and unfolding, lush fields. On the shoreline stands an old, wooden, somewhat decrepit, hut. The mercenaries skid to a halt, the clearing allowing them to catch their breath.

Lynch [Pointing and yelling]: AN ABANDONED FISHING HUT! WE CAN SHELTER THERE!

Jon [Angrily]: FUCK YOU! THAT'S JUST MORE BAD JUJU!

Lynch: ....Yeah! You're right! FRANK! BILL! MOE! Check out that fishing hut!

Moe [In disbelief]: FUCKING WHAT?!?!?

Frank: Hell no!

Lynch [Impatiently]: Orders are orders, cuntbags! Check it!

Moe, Frank and Bill exchange uneasy looks, walking across and to the fishing hut. Frank gulps, pulling the door open and walking inside: The hut is small and completely threadbare. The walls and floor are little more than wooden planks, the stench of mould permeating the air, with only a single, dusty window to let in the light.

Moe: Not a single item of furniture. Let's go.

Bill: Hey, shut up....What's that?

They listen carefully, an odd scratching being heard near the window. Bill grasps it and opens it, looking around before turning to Frank and Moe.

Bill: Hey, guess it was nothi--

Frank [Screaming]: OH MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU??!?!?

Frank points behind Bill who turns around: In the window, grasped onto the ledge, is a young woman with flowing black hair covering a naked and thin, almost skeletal, body. The demon pulls itself up, revealing a scythe being held in its mouth and only the upper half intact: The lower half of the 'body' is little more than the stub of a vertebrae, sliced raggedly.

Moe [Pointing]: It's the Teke Teke! A vengeful Japanese spirit, sliced in half at the waist, who has returned to enact bloodcurdling vengeance!

The mercenaries watch, Moe still pointing, as the Teke Teke struggles violently, pulling itself up the window and carefully balancing the scythe in its mouth. Bill steps forward, grasping the window and shutting it. The Teke Teke growls, tapping its head against the window as Bill turns around, walking back towards the group.

Bill: Nobody go near the fucking window.

Moe: Well, that's that sorted out. C'mon.

Moe, Bill and Frank turn around, walking out of the hut and shutting the door behind them, walking towards the mercenaries.

Lynch: Haunted?

Moe [Nodding]: Haunted.

Lynch: Alright, let's keep walking.

Lynch and the mercenaries turn to the right, walking south once again. As they do, an explosion roars in the distance behind them. The mercenaries turn their heads, watching as a violent plume of orange and black flames roars upwards towards the sky.

Frank [Pointing]: So, I'm guessing that's one of ours, then?

Bill: Random explosion in the middle of an unpopulated forest? That's definitely the work of Reject Company!

Bob: We should probably head there and....well, make sure that nobody is dead.

Johnny: They better not be dead! Some of us have got boyfriends to worry about!

Lynch [Walking towards the explosion]: Shut the fuck up and follow me. We'll find them.

Lynch leads the mercenaries towards the explosion, the scent of burning, acrid smoke filling the air.  

Jon [Darkly]: If they're crispy, we leave them alone.

Frank: Guys, have faith: if we caused the explosion, it means we outran it.

Will: Really?

Sal: Well, he's got a point: Nobody causes an explosion in the middle of a haunted forest unless they're a member of Reject Company, and everybody knows that whenever Reject Company primes explosives, they run the fuck away from it before detonating it.

Dave [Muttering]: Sometimes into oncoming traffic.

That Other Random Guy [Tutting bitterly, shaking his head]: Man, nobody could've seen that coming. Least of all poor Pepe.

Eligio: Who doesn't see an eighteen wheeler heading up a Brazilian road at eighty miles an hour?!

Bobby: Pepe didn't.

That Other Random Guy: Well, at least we know what the last thing was that went through his mind: The truck's front bumper.

Melvin [Chuckling]: Man, that's nasty.

Robbie: But true.

Lynch [Quietly]: They better be alive.

Will: Even if they aren't, nobody can blame you: After all, we ARE Reject Company.

Maurice: Have faith, lads.

Robbie: Why?

Maurice: Cause we're a bunch of ass-kickers, and some of us do have brains, like. We know to run away from burning buildings.

Melvin [Quietly]: So, uh, explain why we're walking towards one?

A small silence punctuates Melvin as the mercenaries continue walking.

Lynch [Coldly]: Shut up, Melvin. We know what we're doing.

Johnny: Do we?

Will: I doubt it.

Frank [Angrily]: YES! WE DO!

The mercenaries walk through a clearing: Ahead of them is Lake Saiko, the skeletal fishing hut ahead of them. Somehow, someway, by not paying attention and simply talking to eachother, they managed to walk in a complete circle.

That Other Random Guy [In disbelief]: Aw, what the fuck?

Billy: Well, shite, that's the fishing hut.

The mercenaries stand there, looking at the unfolding majesty of Lake Saiko, reflecting the beautiful moonlight.

Lynch [Calmly]: ......We're lost, aren't we?

Lynch falls silent as he listens to the sound of nothing but rustling trees and running water.

Vince: Yes.

Lynch screams loudly, turning to Vince and tackling him to the floor as the others watch on. The scene fades to black.

***

The scene, however, opens in a traditional Japanese ryokan. Though the location is unknown, the open fields and cobbled streets around it, as well as the fact that it is in the midst of a quiet town, sleeping as the stars sparkle in the night sky, indicates that it as far from Aokigahara as possible. In the bedroom, divided from the rest of the room by traditional paper dividers, Phil and Tavi are laid down on a futon, a small wooden cabinet upon which a small flat-screen television is perched at the foot of their bed. The television is off and both of them are simply laid there in the dark, huddled beneath the white duvet, looking at the ceiling.

Tavi: How do you think the others are doing?

Phil: Dead.

Tavi: Phil...

Phil [Shrugging]: Or wounded. or something. Why should we worry? We're laying in a comfortable bed, about to have a good nights sleep without having to worry about being stabbed.

Tavi: What will they say when they find out we ran?

Phil: The same thing that they'll say to Al, Dick and Dion.

Tavi: We--Wait, they ran?

Phil; Well, did YOU see them as we blindly ran away ourselves?

Tavi [Laying back]: ....Well, as long as they survive.

Phil climbs into the futon beside her, laying on his side and looking at her.

Phil: Of course they will. The best thing we can do now is not worry, call a priest in the morning and tell the bastard to get to Aokigahara.

Tavi: Until then?

Phil [Grinning]: Well, if you're feeling amorou--

Tavi [Bluntly]: No.

Phil: Well, goodnight.

Phil rolls onto his other side, closing his eyes. Tavi simply lays there, looking up at the ceiling.

Tavi; Phil?

Phil [Grunting]: Mm?

Tavi: In the morning, can we go to an onsen?

Phil [Grunting in agreement]: Mm.

Tavi: Then can we go to a restaurant that serves some yakinuku?

Phil [Grunting in agreement]: Mm.

Tavi: We can go to Akihabara?

Phil [Grunting irritably]: Mm.

Tavi: Was that a yes?

Phil [After a moments silence, grunting]: ....Mmhm.

Tavi [Clapping her hands slightly]: Yay!

Tavi flops her head down, closing her eyes. The scene fades to black.

***

Yet again, the scene opens. However, this time, the scene opens in Tokyo. Despite night encroaching, the city is very much alive and throbbing, the nightlife pulsating a rainbow of neon colours throughout the streets and the maze of alleyways that make up the beautiful city. Inside a Japanese pub, where the salarymen are relaxing and drinking following a hard day at work, Dion, Dick and Al are sat at a long wooden bar, bottles of Sapporo and pint glasses in front of them.

Al [Grinning]: Well, lads, it's Japanese but it's beer, and the Japanese do a good beer, or so i've heard. But, bollocks to it, cause we have certain traditions to follow!

Dion: Like?

Al : Well, we pour eachother drinks, and only then can we drink after giving a cheers!

Dick: Alright then!

Dick takes Al's bottle, and Dion takes Dick's bottle. Dion pours a drink for Dick and Dick pours a drink for Al. Al takes Dion's bottle, pouring a drink for him. Each man raises their glasses, falling silent for a few seconds.

Al: So, cheers?

Dick: How do they say it here?

Dion: Kanpai.

Dick [Smirking]: Bless you.

Dick, Al and Dion thrust their glasses into the air.

Dick, Al and Dion [In unison, energetically]: KANPAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIII!!!!!

Dick: Here's to not dying like wankers!

Dick, Al and Dion [In unison, energetically]: KAAAANNNNNNPAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIII!!!!!

Al: Here's to leaving the retards to die!

Dick, Al and Dion [In unison, energetically]: KAAAAANPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!

Dion: Here's to Tokyo!

Dick, Al and Dion [In unison, energetically]: KKKKAAAAAAAAANNNNPPPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!

They clink their glasses together as the scene finally fades to black.

Metal Gear Mercenaries Saga II Episode I - Heroes Without A Clue

The scene opens up to a sunrise which bathes the sand-dusted road of Beale Street, south of Romani, and south-east of the Suez River, with a soft, orange glow. A light haze of sand blows across from a sand dune to the north, spattering the already-yellowing buildings with a fresh spray of parchment color. A loud humming noise fills the dawn air, and the door to the north-westerly most building on this eastern street is thrust open, revealing Frank Daniels in his hairy glory, thankfully wearing a pair of Y-fronts to cover his dignity.

Frank [Ecstatically]: I HAVE A WONDERFUL FEELING…EVERYTHINGS GOING MY WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A silence pierces the streets following Franks outburst. Phil, in the house across the street, opens the blinds of his bedroom and squints, looking out through the glass, a rough, bushy beard now growing across his jaw. Seeing Frank, he kneels up and opens the window, pointing at Frank.

Phil [Mockingly]: And I have an awful feeling you’re pretty damn gay!

Frank: Shut up, Phil! I just had sex!

Phil [Sneering]: ….You disgust me.

Phil shuts his blinds and Frank simply stands there, hands on his hips.

Frank [Grinning]: A glorious day in this mans army!

Sals Voice [Distant, echoing]: It’s not your army!

Frank: Sal? [Angrily] YES, IT IS!!!

Sals Voice [Distant, Echoing]: Not!

Mantis walks out behind Frank, wearing a flowing silk dressing gown in the striking color of dark jet. She places her hands over his eyes, grinning sweetly.

Mantis [Teasingly]: Guess whoooooooooooooooo?

Sals Voice [Distant, Echoing]: Jazzzz Hands!!

Frank [Impatiently]: SAL, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!?

Mantis taps Franks shoulder and points over his shoulder into the sky.Frank looks north-east, and sees a bicycle flying in mid-air, kept afloat by several hundred fire extinguishers, a can of gas and a set of cardboard wings. He’s clutching a megaphone in one hand and a pair of binoculars in the other. Seeing himself spotted, he quickly shuffles the bicycle around, peddling fast.

Sal [Panicking, Slamming his handlebars]: DAMMIT! WHY DIDN’T I FIT THE SALCYCLE WITH A PARACHUTE?!?!?!

Sal screams as the bicycle suddenly plummets downwards due to his feet tiring out from the manic peddling. He hits a sand-dune to the North East with soft, but audible *thud*, screaming as a crunching sound indicates he’s rolling down the dune, possibly with a bicycle covered in several fire extinguishers on top of him.

Mantis [Bemused]: ..Well, that’s the crazy quota for today.

Daves Voice: Well, speaking of crazy..

Frank and Mantis turn around: Dave is standing behind them, looking outside and clutching a steaming mug of black coffee.

Dave: ..Has anyone seen Robbie? His hammocks empty, and his German kriegsmarine uniform is missing from the floor.

Frank: ..Well, it’s obvious--

Dave [Scathingly]: THAT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION GODDAMMIT!!!

Mantis: But doesn’t a U-boat require a large amount of manpower to crew?

Frank: Come to think of it..don’t the streets look a bit empty?

Mantis: That [Thinking carefully]…is a wonderful point.

Dave [Gasping, Almost mock-hurt]: And he didn’t wake me??!!! I’m offended!

Frank: So what would several mercenaries be doing on a U-Boat in the Suez?

Dave [Bluntly]: That you have to actually ask that question is a testament to your stupidity. All I know is we’ll be getting a swift stock of provisions in a few hours!

Mantis: Are we really that crazy that we’d risk dragging Egypt into a conflict because a couple of nutjobs are playing with a U-Boat???

Mantis, Dave and Frank watch as the door across the street opens, and Phil sidles out, jingling a pair of keys. Jericho follows him out, pulling on his camelskin trenchcoat and slicking back his hair quickly. Both men quickly jog down the steps and climb onto the side of their M1 Abrams tank which lays on the street in front of their house. Jericho climbs up the side carefully and lifts the hatch, sliding in while Phil climbs up, slamming it shut and sitting on top of it.

Phil [Pointing forward]: Alright Jerry, let’s go bring us some supplies back!!

The tank roars violently into life and starts to slowly rumble down the street, the buildings foundations shaking as it does.

Mantis: Sweet jesus.

Dave [Cupping his hands over his mouth]: HEY! PHIL! TRY AND SECURE SOME FUCKING PRINGLES, WILL YA?!?!?!

Phil [Looking back at him]: YOU HAVE MY WORD, DAVE!!!

Phil gives a small salute as the tank rumbles out of sight, becoming nothing more than a distant cloud of sand and dust as it barrels forward mercilessly. Dave blinks rapidly.

Dave: Okay. That’s our day beginning..Whats on the cards?

Frank: Nothing but drinking. God knows all the jobs that CAN be taken, HAVE been taken. Everything from smacking around a group of Praying Mantis to escorting that weird old paedophile who hangs out the Embassy down in Cairo.

Dave: You mean Joey El-Kayef? The American Ambassador to Egypt?

Frank [Blinking, Embarassed]: …….Yeah, him.

Dave: You truly are a fucking retard…If you guys need me, I’m going to be walking randomly around town…[Bitterly]..for no apparent fucking reason!

Dave slides past Frank and looks into the sky, taking a deep breath in and jogging down the steps.

Dave [Desperately]: I HAVE NOTHING!!!!

Dave falls to his knees at the bottom of the steps, smacking his head off of the sandy ground.

Mantis: It’s almost cute the way they break so easily..

Wills Voice [Boisterous]: Of course it is, they are fragile compared to the mighty Will Studlin!!

Mantis and Frank turn around: Will is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but speedos, aviator sunglasses and a beach towel under his arm.

Will: Now, lets have a parting of the asses, since nothings happening, there is a dangerous mission I need to attend to….Getting a tan!

Mantis: Raven not biting, eh?

Will: Oh, she is! Want to see--

Mantis: Do and I will turn your testicles into ornaments for the mantelpiece.

Will looks around the room, noticing the lack of a fireplace.

Will: We haven’t got a mantelpiece, we’ve got the coffee table, though.

Mantis stomps towards him, causing Will to scream and dive onto the couch, cowering with his hands over his head. Mantis snorts in a raucious laughter, sending a shiver down Franks spine.

Frank: ….Yeah. Look, ignore the asshole, what the hell are we going to do?

Mantis: Eh, want to go work on our tans outside?

Frank: Sure, why not? The others are still asleep..Maybe we can get..nude?

Bricks Voice [Panicking]: PLEASE DON’T!

That Hispanic Guys voice [Also Panicking]: ESE, PLEASE!

Mantis [Angrily]: Fuck off! [Tenderly, stroking Franks cheek] Let’s go, baby..

Frank goes to walk outside, but stops. A faint explosion crackles through the air, barely audible in the street. Frank leans his head out of the doorway, looking to the northeast: A grey wisp of smoke is already barely visible in the direction of the Suez.

Frank: I suppose I should be glad their keeping themselves busy instead of starting a war…..although knowing them, that’s how they are keeping busy..

==PORT SAID, THE SUEZ CANAL==

A huge plume of smoke erupts from the waters of the Suez, followed by violent screaming and the rushing sound of a boat making its way to the riverbed below. Phil and Jericho are sitting on their Abrams tank as they watch, eating bacon sandwiches and watching as another merchant boat, Australian in origin, snaps into two and starts to sink to the bottom of the river. Before it can fully disappear into the depths a cranes clawed hand swoops down, operated by Bill, and grasps the wreckage carefully, hauling it up quickly and placing it onto the shore. Brick and Jon rush over with crowbars from the foot of the Abrams tank, digging them into the four wooden crates which survived the devastating barrage from the U-Boat.

Jon [Excitedly]: BUMPER HAUL! BUMPER HAUL!

Brick: Hotdamn! This makes one..three…eight crates!

Jon: What? This makes eleven! Where the hell did you get eight from?

Brick: Hey, Science is not my strong point, alrighty?

Jon: …Yeah. I can tell.

Jon successfully pries off one of the crates faces, watching as a bundle of straw and brown jars with yellow labels tumble out.

Jon [Disgustedly]: Vegiemite??! WHAT THE FUCK?!??!?

Brick leans down, pulling open the jar and revealing a thick, tar-like substance with a strong, salty smell.

Brick [Pulling back in disgust]: DAMN! What is this shit?!

Jericho: Hey, Marmite!!

Phil: Marmite knock-off, Jerry..Not like our good, British stuff! [Putting a thumbs down gesture in front of him] DUMP IT, BILL! DUMP IT ALL!

Bill and Brick grasp the crate, pushing it across the concrete and over the edge of the Suez, watching as the glass jars break and a mini oil-scum starts to float across the once-flawless waters of the Suez Canal.

Jericho: Beautiful. One of the most important canals in the world concerning trade, and we’re filling it with Vegemite.

Phil: Even the water hates it….

Bill: I think that’s the last of them!

Phil reaches for a pair of binoculars beside him, raising them to his face: Barely visible through the several plumes of smoke at the canals mouth is a small Schooner, lazily bobbing across the Mediterranean Sea as it slowly makes it way for the Suez. Phil reaches across his lap to the other side, grasping a small walkie talkie and clicking a button.

Phil: Alright Robbie, there’s one last bastard coming through the rivermouth. I can see an American flag on it, you know what that means?

Robbies Voice [Crackling on the other end]: Dirty Capitalist Pigs?

Phil: ….Well, yeah, there is that, but it means they’ve got good food! We need good food! Try to make it look like an accident, too.

Robbie clicks off, leaving the receiver filled with static. Phil and Jericho listen as a violent hiss fills the air, followed by an orange explosion which scars the air. The screams of American sailors fill the air as they dive overboard, their precious tugboat swaying as water rushes into its insides. Bill quickly lowers the claw of the crane, grasping the tugboat and hauling it high into the air before swinging around, setting it onto the shore.

Phil: …Robbie, I said make it look like an accident.

Robbies Voice [Scathingly]: How the fuck was I supposed to do that?!?! Nudge him in a friendly manner until he sank?!?!?

Phil: Well, yes, that was what I was thinking!

Dave walks past the side of the tank, leaning against it and folding his arms.

Dave: Sup guys?

Phil looks down at Dave.

Phil: Hey Dave, what’s up?

Dave: Just hanging around. So, anything good hauled up?

Phil: Well, we intercepted a Somali rowing boat. Is that interesting? Turns out it was one lonely guy with an RPG. Did you know if a U-Boat surfaces beneath a rowing boat, it can shatter it and cause the pieces to skewer the rower?

Dave: No.

Phil [Grinning]: TRULY AMAZING!

Bill and Brick rush over to the wreckage, pulling away shattered planks and broken plastic, reaching in to salvage and looking around. A few of the crates have been smashed into oblivion, the wooden carnage ensuring that their contents are now destroyed beyond recognition. Both men notice a few crates, though splintered and partly-burnt, are still relatively intact. They reach in, synchronising together to free the crates and pull them free. Bills bare forearm snags on a loose piece of wood, cutting it open.

Bill [In extreme pain]: GAH! FUCK!

Bill pulls back, clutching his forearm as blood flows freely from it.

Jericho [Mockingly]: Awww..has Billy-boy got a boo-boo?

The hatch flies open between Phil and Jericho, revealing the gruff form of Billy, his beard unkempt and his short hair askew, wearing nothing but a tight white t-shirt and a pair of grey boxers.

Billy: …You called?

Phil: Billy..what the fuck were you doing in our tank?!

Billy: Sleeping..

Phil: Jericho? Did you not notice him?

Jericho: I did, but I didn’t really care.

Bill [Angrily, In pain]: HELLO! COMPLETE AND UTTER PAIN HERE!!

Billy: …Where are we? Suez?

Jericho: Yep. Just destroying boats and stealing cargo!

Bill [Desperately]: HELLO?!?!?

Phil [Losing patience]: Goddammit…Where the fucks our medic?!

Jericho: She’s back at Beale Street!

Phil: ..Oh yeah. Bill, just go back to your fucking jeep, I’ll sort it out you fucking pussy!

Bill [Angrily]: NO PROBLEM, CUNT!

Bill turns around, walking towards a large, beige Humvee parked at an angle a few yards to the side of the jeep, clutching his arm which is now coated with blood.

Bill [Angrily, Bitterly]: Fucking ass..

Jericho: Alright Brick, Billy, lets load this shit into the tank and head on home!

Billy yawns, climbing out of the hatch and sliding down, hitting the concrete with a soft thud and walking over to the pile of fourteen wooden crates, each stamped with various numbers in black ink. Brick walks beside him, both men squatting down and trying to lift one. Brick pulls back, shaking his head.

Brick: Heavier than mama after eatin’ a bucket of hot wings. We gotta put these in the jeeps, Phil dude.

Phil: Alright, load up both jeeps. If you need us, we’ll be heading back to Beale Street..we’ve had our fun.

Brick salutes and Jericho slides into the hatch, followed by Phil. It slams shut and the iron beast roars into life, reversing slightly and turning left, moving forward across the edge of the Suez. Once its comfortable with its position, the Abrams roars forward, eventually leaving the sight of the jeeps and crates. Bill watches from the back of his jeep as they vanish behind a large warehouse used for storage, grinning to himself and quickly binding the cloth he has on his arm in place with a strip of duct-tape before tearing off his long-sleeved beige shirt, revealing a black t-shirt with several hooks dug into it. He reaches into the boot, pulling out a long, maple fishing rod and a fishing hat, setting it over his salt-and-pepper colored hair.

Bill: Fuck that noise, I’m going fishing!

Billy: Eh, go on…

Bill nods ecstatically, rushing over to the edge of the Suez and sitting on the edge of the concrete. Before he can fling the rod, he hears a loud snort behind him from Billy. Bill turns around, watching as Will struts forward, setting down his blue beach towel near him before laying on it, sighing deeply.

Bill: Will..What are you doing?

Will: Sunbathing.

Bill: C’mon man..At least go to the fucking Sinais shore of the Mediterranean and do it! We’re supposed to be guarding the place and the natives are getting upset because of your chest!

Will: Is it for religious reasons?

Bill: No, man, it’s because your hair has caused two kids to go missing. Holy shit man, there’s this thing called “Wax”. INVEST IN IT!

Will: So…you don’t want to upset the natives, right?

Bill [Nodding]: RIGHT!

Will: So what’s with the fishing rod?

Bill blinks rapidly.

Bill [Mulling quickly for excuses]: I’m…..undercover. As an elite fisherman sent from the CIA.

Will: So nothing to do with the fish in the Suez? Who are you spying on?

Bill: Your mother.

Will: She ain’t here. She hasn’t called me.

Bill [Bitterly]: Shut up and let me fish, for fucks sake.

Will: Just do it, not like we’re guarding anything opponent.

Bill: What about Liquid Ocelot, eh?

Will: What? He’s over there, on that yacht!

Will points over at a white, streamlined yacht, its sails flapping lazily in the breeze. Ocelot is laid on the deck, bare-chested and wearing nothing but horn-rimmed sunglasses and a pair of blue speedos. He looks up, waving at them.

Will [Waving back]: See? Harmless!

Bill: Then how do you explain his armed escort?

Bill points to the mouth of the Suez, where four Patrol Boats have gathered, each with two 50mm cannons erected on the bow. Will responds by standing and pointing in the water: The titanic grey form of Robbies U-boat clearly visible in the silken waters, resting following the capture of its prey.

Bill: …Oh, well that’s a relief.

Bill sits on the shore, grasping his fishing rod, and slowly flings forward, allowing the flied hook to sink into the water. Will sighs and rolls onto his back.

Will: I’m loving this vacation..

Bill: Funny, every newspaper I read says “War is coming”, “Ocelots private military company rolling into so-and-so”, “Ocelot kills more”, “Patriot pigs must die” and the like. Must be some vacation.

Will: Are you complaining that we’re not at the front?

Bill: Yes, it’s a living nightmare..

Bill slips a cigarette into his mouth, placing his fishing hat over his eyes and laying back, keeping his hands on the fishing rod tightly. Billy, Brick and Jon simply sit in their jeep, parked conveniently in a beam of sunlight, laying back in their seats and giving a content sigh.

=Beale Street, Sinai Peninsula=

Back at Beale Street, Laughing Octopus is sitting on the concrete of Franks flat, hugging her knees tightly as she stares ahead. Boredom had truly set in, and there was literally nothing to do. Dave walks past the steps, looking up at Octopus and nodding before walking off. Phil, Jericho, Steve and Ivan are laid on top of their Abrams tank, staring into the sky.

Phil [Tiredly]: ..How many peanuts do you think you could fill the universe?

A small silence fills the air.

Steve: Five hundred and twenty billion trillion trillion trillion billion?

Phil: …Yeah, sounds right.

Another short silence.

Jericho: How many cheese and pickle sandwiches could fill the universe?

Phil: …..Fifty five hundred billion trillion trillion trillion kazillion?

Ivan [Yawning]: I vas thinking someving like Seventy hundred trillion trillion trillion trillion..

Phil: Maybe..

All four of them let out a unified sigh. Jericho slowly lifts her head, looking at Octopus who is simply sitting there. Feeling Jerichos gaze upon her, she raises her head, looking at her with her pale blue eyes. Jericho lowers his head again.

Jericho [Bluntly]: I fear she might want to kill us.

Ivan: No shit.

Octopus: No killing, just want something to pass the time..

Steve: Twister?

Ivan: Nah, played zat last night..

Phil: Think my idea of investing in a video games console was still a bad idea?

Jericho [Shiftily]: What about my idea of the flashing neon sign saying “Burgle us”? Considering no-one else knows about the…ding ding ching?

Phil: Good point.

Octopus: What are you fools on about?

Jericho: Absolutely nothing.

The sound of flopping flippers fills the air, marking the appearance of the walking, talking Emperor Penguin himself, Mister Dibbley. Dibbley slowly scuttles out of an alley to the right of Franks flat, sighing deeply and slopping his flippers down to his side.

Mr. Dibbley: Anyone else looking for activities to partake in to avoid dreaded boredom?

Octopus: Yes..

Ivan [Starting to get impatient]: Christ, I wish I never left Mother Vussia! At least their mercenaries are getting to kill people!

Jericho [Sarcastically]: Yeah, lets go to the place where the average life expectancy of a mercenary is one hour!

Ivan: ….Vell, not my countries fault we keep trying to detach Ocelot from ze Kremlin..

Jericho: Or Saint Petersburg, or Moscow, or--

Ivan: Yes, I get it! But here…fuck, it’s boring!!

Jericho: Yeah, this is where they send the rejects. Long live the queen and all that shit.

Mr. Dibbley: Indeed, we are the rejects, sadly. I mean, I guess the standard military had no room for an Emperor Penguin..but the jokes on them! Ocelots grip is spreading across the world!

Phil: Yeah, so we’ll be called into opportunity soon, and little miss Octopus down there will have her brain fiddled with and be at Ocelots beck and whim.

Octopus simply blinks.

Phil: Psst. This is where you say what a terrible thing that’d be.

Octopus [Shrugging]: …Eh.

Steve: Poor Bob!

Ivan: Just vat I vas thinking!

Mr. Dibbley: You know, I bet those Mexican Mechanics are having a lot of fun! Imagine it, all the grinding, hammering and bolting they must be doing…lucky buggers..I’d kill to keep busy!

Jericho: Wouldn’t we all….

Phil: I told you we should buy a Blu-Ray player, but noooooooooo!

Jericho [Swiftly]: Cause there’s nothing on telly, plus they still haven’t released classics on Blu-Ray yet, dammit! Besides, we can’t just vegetate when there’s more important things to do!

Phil: With all the..ching ching ding I’ve got, can we at least buy a fucking football?

Steve [Excitedly]: YEAH YEAH!

Jericho: Tomorrow, cause I ain’t travelling to fuckin’ Cairo today!

Phil: Cunt..

The door opens behind Octopus, and the lanky, pale form of Bob slowly walks out, rubbing his baggy eyes and yawning.

Bob [Stretching]: Hey guys…what’s up?

Mr. Dibbley: Bored to tears, old bean. There’s nothing to kill.

Phil: We could try and kill Frank? That’s always good for a laugh.

Bob: That’s not nice.

Phil: ..But it’d be funny!

Bob: I guess..Whatever guys, the least we could do is keep busy--

Ivan: Who is busy?!?!?

Bob stops talking for a moment before snapping his fingers.

Bob: I bet those Hispanic Mechanics are busy! We should see what their doing!

=The Chop Shop=

Inside the Chop Shop, a garage situated on the neighbouring street to Beale Street: Walkers Street, the Hispanic mechanics are laid, their heads together and their bodies forming a circle as they stare up at the lights. Even the boiler-suits have gone, only That Hispanic Guy, dressed in a white suit and sapphire tie, is dressed normally. Another mechanic, a tall, African-American male with a shaved head and a straggly goatee adorning his chin, walks forward, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He yawns, falling to his knees and splaying backwards, looking up at the lights.

Man: Fucking bored..

Johan: So are we, Mustafa.

Mustafa: ….When you guys came back, I was hoping for more excitement and guns..

That Random Guy: In our defence..we were expecting it too.

That Hispanic Guy: …So bored..

Stoofer: We could dress up like Vaqueros, go to Port Said and rob a factory?

That Random Guy: We did that last week. They weren’t manufacturing anything but car engines, and we’ve got a fuckload of car engines already!

Stoofer: We need to do something..

That Hispanic Guy raises his legs in the air before letting them fall to the floor.

That Hispanic Guy: ..No.

Johan [Desperately]: WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!

That Random Guy sits up, cracking his back and cricking his neck, getting to his feet.

That Random Guy: Checkers?

Johan [Sighing]: …I’ll be black.

Mustafa: That’s my job, you’re Hispanic.

A small laugh goes through the garage.

That Hispanic Guy [Tiredly]: Ahhhhhh..I want to kill something.

That Other Random Guy: Want to see if the bars are open?

Johan: And risk getting shot?

That Other Random Guy: Want to play Monopoly?

Johan: …Dibs on the race car.

That Hispanic Guy: MERDE! You’re always the car!! I hate being the iron!

Bobby: I am not being the fucking shoe.

That Hispanic Guy: Well, I am not being the IRON!

Bobby sits up too, cricking his neck and thick knuckles.

Bobby: Well, hopefully the bar will open soon..Hopefully.

==The Lamb and Flag==

Like everything else in Beale Street and Walkers Street, the Lamb and Flag was a symbol of desolation. Dick Head, the barkeep, was busy standing at the bar, wiping the same glass tankard over and over with a white cloth, not caring that his own black apron was covered in grime. To the right of the bar itself, the wooden door was ajar, showing Obese Maurice standing before an oven, lazily cleaning a skillet with a piece of iron wool, yawning to himself. Even Maurice was starting to get bored, as evidenced by his usual swinging stomach starting to recede. Moe, the four foot-seven mercenary, totters out of the kitchen door, taking off his chefs hat and throwing it up onto the bar, climbing up onto a stool and sitting there, slamming his head off the bar and laying it there. The only other three inhabitants were the girls from ReLoaded.

Wolf, her skin still as dark tan as before, but now with heavy bags under them, Tavi, the sugar-glider anthropomorphic mercenary whose tail had drooped to near lifelessness, and Courtney, the unusually-bubbly mercenary who was now in the same devoid slump as the others, are busy sitting around a table, looking bored and tired. With no new missions, and no passing military forces, ReLoaded had taken to closing early the past few weeks, and its taken its toll on the women, who are now as bored as sin and are busy taking constant refuge inside the Lamb and Flag. Wolf raises her head from her arms, looking up and watching as Dave pokes his head against the window, looking in before walking away.

Wolf [Dejected]: Even Daves lost….Fuck me, I’m bored…

Courtney: What’s everyone else doing? I mean, it’s empty in here!

Dick: Their waiting for the bar to open. I’d start opening earlier, but their tears always excite me.

Tavi: Charming……So, what can we do?

Courtney: Find a man, abduct him and make him bend to our will and whim?

Wolf sighs darkly.

Wolf [Darkly]: I don’t need a man…not anymore..

Tavi: You do, I can see that look in your eyes..

Wolf [Impatiently]: I don’t need a man!

Tavi: You do, why don’t you go down to the Academy and flutter your eyebrows?

Wolf [Getting more impatient]: ..I’d prefer to be alone.

Courtney: Let her be alone, nothing wrong with being an independent woman!

Tavi: Look, this day was always coming! I mean, it’s not our fault Phil is blind and retarded to our charms! Besides, there’s plenty more fish out there..I heard Ivans single!

Wolf; Baldie?

Tavi [Licking her lips]: Bald, tight buns, pecs as hard as a diamond..

Tavi shivers, grinning brightly.

Tavi [Teasingly]: I might just stalk him later..

Wolf [Grimly]: Look, I’m done with men, alright? God knows I used to be a Crying Wolf…Might just not wait for Ocelot and go and kill some more..Or un-suppress these memories..

The door to the Lamb and Flag, and three men enter. These men are obviously not mercenaries, judging by their broad shoulders, chiselled jaws, toned arms, their proud stature and the maroon berets adorning their heads. Their rough bodies are clad in desert camouflage and black combat vests, and their stature is tall, so tall it nearly fills the room. Two of the men walk towards a nearby table, sitting down at it and engaging in a deep, unintelligible conversation. The leader of this squad approaches the bar, looking at Dick. Dick slowly looks up at him.

Dick [Surprised, Scared]: …..Oh. Fuck. Me.

Wolfs eyes slowly light up as she scans the leader.

Wolf: …That’s what armed forces look like? Damn, I missed the memo!

Tavi [Grinning]: No way are they mercenaries!

Soldier One: Ya, can ve get some vodka here? Ve heard yours was a bar which ve could visit for alcohol…Damn Middle Eastern laws.

Dick: ….Sure, just don’t kill me!

Courtney: Hey, I thought you said you weren’t ope--!!

Tavi clamps a hand over Courtneys mouth, muffling out her words.

Tavi [Nervously]: Stop kidding, Courtney!

Tavi and Wolf laugh nervously. The other two Soldiers simply sit there, removing their AN-94 rifles from around their bodies and setting them on the linoleum at their feet, sitting back. Dick sets three small glasses, half-full with clear liquid, on the bar in front of them. The soldier instinctively sets down a handful of dollars.

Soldier One: American currency, I trust zats what you take?

Dick: We take anything as long as its got exchange value. So, yeah….Who the hell are you guys?

Soldier One: Ve’re Spetsnaz, crossing through the area on the way up to Cairo..Damn Ocelots been pushing forward again. God knows he’s always got Moscow…

The soldier gives a small sigh.

Spetsnaz Squad Leader: You’ll probably get a few more customers coming in. I know there’s a Polish vegiment passing through the Sinai..

Dick: Let them.

The leader shrugs, taking the glasses and turning around, walking over to his squads table and setting the glasses down.

Courtney: ..So what are these regiments doing passing through the Sinai?

Wolf: Does anyone care? If they all look like this, I might have to start wearing low-cut tops!

Tavi: Maybe they’re actually getting..involved in the fighting?

Wolf: That means that those..those are real men.

The leader glances over at their table quickly before turning back to his squadmates. A small smile creeps across Wolfs plump lips.

Wolf [Seductively]: The game..is on.

Dave walks past the window again, stopping and looking inside before walking off.

Dick [Angrily]: What the fuck is he doing?!

Maurices Voice: OW! DAVE! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!

Daves Voice: Walking! It stretches the soul!

Maurice leans his head around the doorway, looking at Dick.

Maurice: Ow, bossman, open the fooking bar, will yeh?

Dick: What? Cause Daves being the random wanderer? Fuck no!

Spetsnaz One: Ya, Open the bar!!!

Spetsnaz Two [Pumping his right arm to the sky]: RIGHT! YES! OPEN BAR!

Dick sighs, leaning down and slamming his head off the bar.

Dick: One of these days? The rules of us opening at six really will come true..Alright then, ring the bell Maurice.

Spetsnaz Squad Leader [Smirking]: Let’s see your soldiers, zen!

Dick: …Why? You’ll laugh!

Spetsnaz Two: Ah, ve’ve seen it all! Don’t worry!

Maurice walks out from behind the door, holding a large cowbell.

Spetsnaz Three [Quietly]: …Okay. Interesting.

Dick: Told you..ring that shit, Maur!

Maurice opens one of the windows to the right of the door, leaning out and ringing the bell. The shrill noise echoes throughout the streets.

Dick: Where are they?

The sound of trampling feet starts to become audible in the distance.

Dick [Sighing]…Fuck.

=4:30pm – Lamb and Flag=

The desolation has been ruined: The bar is now filled to the brim with mercenaries and The Hispanic Mechanics. The Spetsnaz occasionally stop their drinking, glancing around at their familiars and ensuring none of them could pose a threat. The Hispanic Mechanics on the table to their left watch them suspiciously.

Bobby: …Whats with those guys?

Johan [Grabbing an olive from a jar in the middle of the table and popping it into his mouth]: …Spetsnaz. Interesting.

That Hispanic Guy: Fuck ‘em.

Johan: Si.

One of the soldiers glances at them.

Spetsnaz Soldier One: Hello!

Stoofer: Aloha.

Spetsnaz Soldier One: So..you’re..?

That Hispanic Guy [Bluntly]: Mechanics.

The soldier nods, turning back to his friends. Stoofer slaps Johans arm.

Stoofer [Hissing]: Put the pipe down, ese!

Johan sighs, slipping a small lead pipe back into his pocket. The double-doors part and Phil slides into the bar, wearing a golden Hawaiian shirt, looking around.

Phil: Well, time to get the party started..

Dick leans on the bar, polishing a glass as Phil taps the bar. Dick looks up at him.

Phil: Yo, Dick, usual.

Dick sighs and slams the glass down, fumbling beneath the counter.

Dick [Scathingly]: One pint of piss coming up.

Phil [Mocking laughter]: OH HOW FUCKING FUNNY!! You really should be on Family Guy, Dick!

Dick: If I was funny, I’d be the opposite.

Tom Morello, lead guitarist of Rage Against The Machine and The Nightwatchman, runs in.

Morello [Cackling]: BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!

The bar turns silent and turns towards Tom Morello.

Morello: Yeah. BURN.

Morello turns around and runs out.

Phil: Make it a glass of Magners Cider, you ass.

Dick: Paintstripper coming up

Phil turns his head, looking back at the Spetsnaz.

Phil: Hey, Dicky, whats with the red beret-wearing guys?

Dick: Spetsnaz.

Phil: Hahahaha! No, seriously.

Dick: Seriously Phil. Spetsnaz.

Phil turns around, looking over at their table. They nod quietly at him.

Phil: Do you guys still do backflipping hatchet attacks?

The Spetsnaz soldiers nod once more.

Phil: Posh twats!

Phil squeezes past the Spetsnaz table and the Hispanic mechanics table, sitting down at a table behind them where Jericho, Steve, Billy, Will and Raven are sat.

Phil: Sup? Whats with the posh twats?

Will: Phil, you rude man!

Phil: Talking about the Spatsnaz

Jericho: Spetsnaz. Well, its no secret Ocelots ramping up the attacks around Suez and Port Said, so the superpowers will have to stop him doing so..Why they haven’t asked us, I’ll never know..

Raven: Well, you guys are the rejects, the last line of defence..I mean, sometimes they send you in first to weaken them and to get killed, so the special forces can get stuck in without risking death..

Will: Lovely, isn’t she?

Billy [Sarcastically]: ….Yeahhh..

Will [Mockingly]: Shut up, Scottish peasant!

Phil drains his Magners and nods, slamming the glass down.

Phil: I shall be having several more before the night is done.

Jericho: Hey, dude, you want to go to the Dog and Handgun? Score some vagina?

Phil: Wow, these street drugs are getting awkward names. “Excuse me, I want to sniff some vagina”?

Jericho: Shut up. You know what I mean.

Phil: If I did, I wouldn’t have belittled you! Now sit still and let me taunt you more!

Raven: You guys are such fucking pigs! A womans body is not just made for sexual desires!

Jericho: ……And you do realise who your boyfriend is??

Raven: And? He obeys me, he doesn’t glance at the bodies of other women, does he?

Will [Grinning]: Thanks, babycakes.

Raven: Besides…you never see other women ogle men!

Over at Wolfs table, Wolf and Tavi are busy gazing at the Spetsnaz table, their eyes glazed over. The Spetsnaz haven’t noticed.

Wolf [Almost drooling]: …Wow. They look..hot..

Courtney [Rolling her eyes]: Jesus, eyes in the sockets, please..

Tavi: No. Can’t. Sweating.

Wolf: Should I go over? Should I?

Dave: Just fucking do it!

Wolf looks over at the table beside them: Dave, Bob, Octopus, Sal and Billy are watching them uneasily.

Sal [Right eye twitching]: Holy fuck, woman, just ignore your allegiance so you can shag a Spetsnaz, eh??

Wolf: Sssshhhh! He might hear us!

Sal: Good grief..Like a couple of schoolgirls. What do they have that we don’t?

Tavi: Looks.

Wolf: Muscles.

Courtney: Hardcore military training which allows them to feel virtually no pain?

Wolf: Muscles.

Courtney: Expert weaponry handed down from the high echelons of Russian military, capable of mincing the most stubborn enemy?

Wolf: Muscles.

Courtney [Rubbing her temple]: For fucks sake..

Tavi: Should I? Or maybe they don’t like a glider? Aww..so sad..

Bob: …You never know unless you try..

Bob nods at them in a serious manner. Tavi simply twiddles her thumbs, murring nervously. The Spetsnaz look up again, giving the table a quick look before turning around, talking to eachother in hushed tones.

Wolf [Licking her lips]: Mmm..come here baby, you can tame my wolf anyday..

Sal: I might actually..move table..

Billy: I am going…[Lighting up] to get another drink!

Billy stands up, walking over to the bar and slamming his glass down.

Billy: Yo, Dick, fill ‘er up.

Dick grabs the glass, sliding it under a tap of Pabst and pouring some in, setting the glass on the bar. Billy hands Dick a few dollars, watching as the beer starts shaking.

Billy: ..What the fuck?

Dick [Tensely]: …Uh oh. It’s Lynch. He’s back from the Academy.

Billy: Oh fuck, the Academy?

The Spetsnaz slowly raise their heads.

Spetsnaz Squad Leader: What is going on?

The sounds of stomping get louder and the double-doors to the Lamb and Flag fly open. The tall, intimidating form of Marcus Lynch stands before them: His white hair slicked back from sweat on his scalp, and his bronze skin showing a new form of a tan from travelling through the Sinai. Being the newly-placed Captain of this mercenary Company, his vest and shorts have been replaced by a khaki blazer and pants, accompanied by black boots. A lone medal, made with white ribbon with a blue stripe in the middle and the medallion in the shape of a snowflake, is pinned to the breast of his left pocket. He narrows his beady eyes, looking around the bar.

Lynch: …No medal-wearing?

A silence descends across the bar. Only Jericho is wearing his, pinned to the right breast of his camelskin trenchcoat.

Lynch [Scathingly]: Well, you earned them. Let them collect dust, you fucking parasites. You’re heroes, you fucking idiots!

Lynch stops talking, his eyes floating over to the three Spetsnaz soldiers sitting around their table.

Lynch: Wow, Spetsnaz. At last, a fucking equal.

Spetsnaz Squad Leader: Who are you?

Lynch: The name is Marcus Lynch. Captain. Former Navy SEAL and Green Beret.

Spetsnaz Squad Leader: Interesting. Vell, nice to meet you.

Lynch: Likewise. [Commandingly] Now, mercenaries, I command you all to shut the fuck up and put your eyes and your ears ON ME! RIGHT NOW!

On cue, the mercenaries heads snap around, facing Lynch intently. The Spetsnaz simply watch, almost bemused by the sudden shift in attitude.

Lynch: Alright. I’ve been travelling through the Sinai, and to the Academy. Now, I know that all of you have been completely and utterly bored..Well, I have some good news. Great news. I was talking to a squad leader within the Taliban who had visited. Well, Taliban..I’d rather say Mujahidin. Freedom fighters. Also, a guy representing the Irish Republicans…and even a few Chechens were there! Calm down, Spetsnaz guys..Anyway--

Billy: Seriously? Taliban?

Bob: Irish Republican Army? Really? Those cut-throats?

Dave: Yeah, we do have a few Brits in here…making friends with the Irish?

A vein pulses in Lynchs temple.

Lynch [Holding his anger]: You mean none of you have done your research?

The mercenaries shake their heads uneasily.

Lynch [Breathing out, sighing]: Look, the Irish Republican Army are on our side, alright? So are the Chechen Seperatists.. [Bitterly] well, until someone killed two of them.

Phil grins, slapping his thighs.

Phil [Inanely]: That was me.

Lynch: So are the Taliban. Got it? Not one of those psychotic groups like that Ocelot is rubbing his balls in their faces. Irelands pissed that Raven Swords humping them like Britain, Chechnyas pissed about having to deal with Ocelots own Otsetoloya Khavatka using Russia as a base to ship in his own troops by the thousands on them, and the Middle East? Well, you know about the Taliban, right?

Dave: Yeah, we’ve had a few meals and shit with them. The odd meet. Never exchanged weapons though, mainly because we’ve got the better weapons and they’ve got…camels.

Bob [Speaking up]: Hey, those camels come in handy when the petrol ration is running low!

Lynch: And the Irish?

Phil [Grimly]: Haven’t dealt with them. Never.

Lynch: Well, I have. Nasty fuckers. Very nasty fuckers. Driven, but nasty. Would cut your throat if you ever turned your back on them, but they have weapons we need. So, I knew that a few of you needed jobs to keep busy. For you Hispanic Mechanics, the Irish need someone to rig up carbombs. It’s easy, they’ll leave five or six jeeps around the south Walkers Street, you take them, rig them, drive them back into the same spot, they’ll pick them up the next week. Steady source of income, is that alright?

Johan [Ecstatically]: Si!

Stoofer: Rigging carbombs..Well, you’ve got to make a living somehow, as long..as long as it’s killing the right people.

Lynch: Don’t worry, those bombs are going directly to Ocelots own offices and barracks himself.

That Hispanic Guy: Then we duly..accept!

Lynch: Good men! Now, as for the rest of you, I organized three different weapons trades for the comings months. The Irish will be dropping off a supply of AR-15s, Claymores and LPO-Fifty Flamethrowers, in exchange for a cache of M-79s and Javelins. Thank fuck some of us have ties to Vietnam, eh? Hard to get ahold of M-79s nowadays..

Phil: Well, Ivan swears by his.

Ivan grins, waving at Lynch.

Lynch [Perturbed]: …Yeah. The Taliban will give us some AKs and PMN mines, useful for when those bastards roll in on trucks, in exchange for M60s. Again, Vietnam ties..Very good! [Smiling] Finally, the Chechens will be supplying us with Makarovs, Dragunovs and some lovely AK-74s…in exchange for AR-15s, LPO-Fifty Flamethrowers and Claymores! Decent trade, don’t you think?

The mercenaries murmur in agreement.

Lynch: But that’s not all that’s happening. From what I heard, some documentary filmmaker wants to visit us and shoot some footage around this little corner of heaven, something about the government wasting money on mercenaries their not bothering to use.

Lynch waves him arms in mock-joy.

Lynch [Bitterly]: Whoop-de-fucking-doo. Anyway, this also means we’re getting two special visitors soon, President Sears is sending up Ambassador Rosenburg, while…….she..will be vistiting.

Sal: She? Who?

Lynch [Bluntly]: HER.

The mercenaries remain silent.

Bill: …..Whosit?

Lynch [Bitterly]: Mother Mercenary.

A violent ripple of terror shivers through the spine of every mercenary within the bar. Dick simply blinks, while the females and Spetsnaz look around, watching as the male mercenaries suddenly have the color drained from their skin.

Wolf: Who?

Jericho [Quietly, Terrified]: …Mother.

Billy [Murmuring]: I’ve never felt so much fear before..but her…HER!

Lynch: Do you girlies seriously think that you’re the only women in this conflict?

Wolf: Ye--

Lynch [Patronisingly]: WROOOOOOOOOOONG!! Mother Mercenary is perhaps the most psychotic, cold-hearted female you will ever see. EVER.

Vince: She doesn’t even leave her office in the Academy unless it’s a special occasion. But there have been a few times she’s left…Remember back in 2011, the massacre at Palestine with all those anti-war demonstrators?

Wolf: Vaguely.

Vince: Not only did she send the units in and tell them to open fire, she took part in it! I mean, the protestors did get their hands on a cache of AKs, but she just opened fire and BANG! Wiped them all out! Fuck me, that was some paperwork, wasn’t it lads? In fact, weren’t you there, Lynch?

Lynch: It was me, Sal, Frank, Dean, Karab, Phil and Steve. Of course, they didn’t open fire…Isn’t that right?

Phil: Look, how many times do I have to tell you: Looting followed by shooting. It’s not my fault some of those guys parked their peace-sign covered trailers near the protest, and carried money and decent food with them! We were living off fucking gruel, Lynch! GRUEL!

Sal [Remembering, shivering]: Jesus, It wasn’t even gruel..Oats and water, that’s it. “Toughens you up” my ass.

Frank: Toughened my ass up. I shat for weeks.

Lynch: Look…She’s visiting, alright? You know what that means?

Mercenaries: Yes..

Lynch [Pointing across the room]: Suits on, mouths cleansed from curse words, this pub serves tea…Remember to wear those fucking medals. You will treat eachother with courtesy and respect, but you will also remember that if any of you are given a skills test to fluff that shit, we don’t want any of you being shipped up to Cairo…or even shipped to Lebanon, South Africa or somewhere where Ocelots dug his nutsack in.

Will [Wincing]: Dude, stop mentioning that old mans nutsack!

Lynch: Alright, so that’s it. I’ll know when she’s coming at a later date. Before her, the documentary guy arrives.

Sal [Excitedly]: Michael Moore?!

Phil [Excitedly]: Louis Theroux??!

Lynch: NO! The guys name is Rex Houghton. REX Houghton. He’ll be arriving in two weeks time, so I want you all to be on your fucking best behaviour, alright? Capiche? If he asks you anything that could make you slander the government..Slander the government, but don’t slander your team-mates, alright?!

Mercenaries [In Unison]: RIGHT!

Lynch; Now that that is all said and done..

Lynch tears off his blazer, revealing a red Hawaiian shirt, and throws it over the bar.

Lynch: Dick, hit me with a bottle of Bud. Make it cold.

Dick leans under the bar, pulling out a frosted bottle of Budweiser and handing it to him.

Lynch: Put it on my rent.

Dick: Will do.

Sal: He gets a tab?

Dick [Angrily]: HE PAYS IT!

Lynch turns to Sal, pointing at him and laughing cruelly before walking forward, sitting down at Phils table between Will and Jericho.

Lynch: So, assholes, hows the fort been holding?

Jericho: Got some supplies from the Suez. Already shipped around, digged into..Should keep us afloat for…five days?

Lynch [Not listening]: Yeah, great to hear.

Ivan: So..Mother Mercenary..

Raven: Is she really that bad?

Jericho: “The Demon of the East.”. That’s what I’ve heard plenty of mercenaries call her. When you’ve got entire battalions at your command..Battalions of mercenaries, no less? You send that shit out and make your name known.

Raven: I’d have heard of anyo--

Phil: Phantom Company. First ones to make their names known. Deployed to Dubai, practically tore the place apart searching for Ocelot. Hotels destroyed, buildings turned into dust. Seventh Polish Squadron. Fighter pilots, known as the “Sky Masters”. Carpet bombed Bolivia upon hearing Ocelot set up forces there. Over five thousand dead. Ghost Company--

Raven: I get it.

Lynch: No, you’ll love Ghost Company. Those cunts massacred ten villages in Lebanon. I hate those bastards…Gutless rodents.

Phil: She’s got plenty more, and each one of them gets nastier..except us, Company Ten and the Egyptian Rats..known as Company Five.

Lynch: Jesus, there isn’t a more incompetent team than Company Ten. Remember the collateral damage they used to pull out? Fuck, they almost destroyed Moscow through idiocy alone!

Frank: HEY! I used to be a part of Company Ten!

Frank walks into the bar, accompanied by Mantis.

Lynch: Yeah, well, they moved you here because you were better, remember?

Frank: ..Oh yeah!

Frank stands there absent-mindedly, his hand on the rear of Screaming Mantis.

Frank: Ooooo..soft.

Mantis smirks, grasping his hand and squeezing it.

Mantis: Wait until we get home, Frank.

Dave: Please do!

Lynch slams his bottle down, belching loudly and looking around the bar.

Lynch: Right, I fancy checking out the poon, whose with me?

Phil: Sure, need something to fire at, if you know what I mean..

Lynch: ..I don’t. Was that supposed to be a sexual joke?

Phil: I try.

Lynch: And fail. But sure, tag along, rookie.

Phil stands up, cracking his knuckles. Jericho drains the dregs of his glass, standing up and patting Phils shoulder.

Jericho: I’m rocking with it.

Ivan: Yes..me too..me too..

Lynch: Alright assholes, on me.

Bill: Kinky bitch!

Lynch: SHUT UP, HILLBILLY!!

=Dog and Handgun=

The strip club situated just two houses down from the Lamb and Flag is bustling with the few mercenaries who decided to forego the drinking and mindless chatter for something a little more risqué. Lynch, Phil, Jericho and Ivan file in through the double doors and into the darkness which is lit only by circles of pink, blue and yellow light which dart eratically across the walls. A long, varnished catwalk with a strippers pole near a velvet curtain at the back extends from the western wall to halfway across the room, where it ends just a few feet away from the bar. Lynch sits on a deep, blue-cloth chair while Phil walks over to the bar.

Phil: Yo..Brick? Jon?

Vince pops up from behind the bar, his beard trimmed, his hair slicked back and a sky-blue Hawaiian shirt on his back. A small grin peers across his tired face.

Vince: Hello!

Phil: ….Why is it everywhere we go, mercenaries are wearing Hawaiian shirts?

Lynch: Hawaiian shirts are the sign of a man relaxing and having fun. It takes a real stupid asshole to even think of denying a man with a Hawaiian shirt his fun and games.

Brick stops hammering the sign and starts desperately pulling at the nail. Lynch drains the remains of his Guinness and slams the pint glass down, leaving nothing but foam and brown dregs.

Lynch: Not even buzzed yet.

Phil: Can we get some booze? Four pints of anything, as long as its fizzy and makes us buzz like bees on opium.

Vince: …Well, I have opium!

Ivan [Slurring]: FIYUHWATAH!!

Vince: ..Yeah, he’s had enough.

Phil slips his hand into his right pocket, pulling out a wad of dollar notes and slipping them across the bar. Vince snatches up the wad and flicks his fingers through it, eyeing Phil suspiciously.

Vince: You aren’t asking me to put it on your tab. In fact..you’ve just PAID OFF your tab..

A door flies open behind several false shelves of the bar, opening up directly behind Vince. Brick runs over, staring at the wad.

Brick: HOTDAMN! We’re eating steak tonight! No more reindeer meat!

Jericho [Walking past Phil, muttering quietly]: Nice job, dumbass..

Phil shrugs and turns around, sitting beside Lynch and placing his hands on his knees, whistling quietly. Lynch sighs, putting two fingers into his mouth and giving a shrill whistle. Jon runs out onto the stage and looks at them.

Jon: WHAT?!

Lynch [Slamming his hand on the catwalk]: BOOBS. NOW.

Phil: Can we have the booze, too?

Ivan [Slurring]: FIYUHWATAH!!

Jon: Jesus, none for you Ivan! You just drank candle wax!

Ivan sets down a glass, burping out a red ball and a small flicker of flame.

Ivan [Slurring]: Vell..tastes…FIYUHWATAH!!

Vince strolls over, carrying several glasses and setting them on the edge of the bar.

Vince: Alright guys, here we go…pints and one special shot each.

Phil eyes his neon-green-liquid-filled shotglass uneasily.

Phil [Suspiciously]: The fuck is this?

Lynch: Looks like pus.

Brick: That there’s my special moonshine blend! It’ll put the hairs on yer chest and up your shaft! DRINK UP! MAKES YER BALLS SPIN LIKE WHIRLING DERVISHES!

Sal: I’m not sure I want to now.

Phil shrugs and downs his shot, his left eye twitching as a crotch-length beard shoots out of the lower half of his face.

Phil [Grinning]: AWWW SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!

Lynch: GIMME SOME OF THAT!

Lynch downs his shot..Nothing happens.

Lynch: ..What the fuck?

Lynch looks down at his forearms, which are now criss-crossed with bulging veins.

Lynch [Smirking]: Fucking hell!

The doors open once more and Bill strolls in, hands in his pockets.

Bill: Sup? The tits out yet?

Jon: We’re getting there!

Bill: SWEET!

Bill rushes over, sitting next to Jericho who hasn’t touched his shot, instead eyeing it with suspicion.

Jon: Alright, we managed to find a stripper that you guys haven’t ridiculed or belittled. Now..hang on to your hats, because this one is exotic as fu--[Angrily]—IVAN! GET AWAY FROM THE POLE!

Ivan has his hands wrapped around the pole, waving his head from side to side in time to the Techno.

Ivan [Boisterously]: VOOT!! I AM SEXXXYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sal: Wow….dudes got skills. HIRE HIM!!

Jon grabs a broom and shoos Ivan down into his seat. Ivan gives a loud groan and motions a slap at Jon, missing and collapsing off the stage and into his seat.

Ivan [Hiccuping]: Vell hello baby…you’re zoft..

Jon: Well, as I was saying..this one is a hot girl you all know, and I know some of you fantasise about being in bed with!

Phil [Excitedly]: PAMELA ANDERSON?!

Lynch [Excitedly]: HALLE BERRY?!

Bill [Excitedly]: CARMEN ELECTRA?!?

Jon [Sarcastically]: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! No. Please welcome…Allura!

Lynch [Mockingly]: BOOOOOOO!!!

Jon: SHUTTHEFUCKUP!!

Jon jumps off the stage, clapping his hands. The techno music is replaced with a shrill, gaudy Egyptian tune, and a stripper, clothed in a transparent golden cloth, walks out, her eyes painted dark with eyeshadow, her svelte, tanned form snaking up the pole with expert precision, her full hips swaying in time to the music, her waist-length black hair flowing in the neon lights.

Lynch: …Sweet mama!

Phil takes a drink from his pint, watching Alluras hips sway.

Phil: Well, That’s some good shit.

Bill: Urge to spend money..rising.

Bill stands up robotically, handing Allura a handful of dollar bills. Allura takes them, slipping them into the side of her thong before Bill sits down robotically, blinking.

Bill: What the fuck just happened?

Jon: That’s right, Allura! All the way from Johannesburg!

Lynch: Wow. That’s something, alright.

Phil: Yup, this is the life.

Jericho: Ogling a strippers tits? ..I guess.

Ivan: FIYUHWATAH!!

Vince rushes over, lining up one more of the neon-green shots in front of each man. All of them grasp the shotglasses and down them in unison..

=Midnight=

Lynch slowly stumbles out of the doors of the Dog and Handgun, hacking violently and swaying left and right.

Lynch: ….Fuuuuccckkkkk…

He stumbles to the left, slowly walking down the sands towards the Lamb and Flag. Walking past him, Wolf and Tavi are following the squad of Spetsnaz soldiers, giggling like schoolgirls. The Spetsnaz look around, waving them closer and quickly run into an alley opposite the Lamb and Flag.

Tavi: Mmm! The thrill of the chase!

Wolf and Tavi run into the dark alleyway, disappearing from sight as Courtney walks out of the Lamb and Flag, hands on her hips. Seeing Tavi and Wolf disappear makes her tut as the Hispanic mechanics walk out behind her, chatting to eachother.

Courtney: Bunch of fucking amateurs.

Johan: Indeed, because they do not wear..SOMBRERO!!!

Johan points to That Random Guy, who emerges from the bar wearing a straw sombrero with a gaudily-coloured rainbow band across the brim. He grins, waving his arms.

Courtney: ..Yeah.

Courtney snorts, turning around and walking back up towards ReLoaded. Phil, now standing uneasily on the edge of the Dog and Handguns roof, looks down at her.

Phil: COURTNEY! COURTNEY!

Courtney stops, glancing up and raising an eyebrow.

Phil: YOU’LL ALWAYS BE SEXY TO ME!

Phil hiccups, stumbling forward and screaming, falling off of the roof, hitting the sand below with a dull crunch. Courtney smirks, shrugging her shoulders.

Courtney: Still got it!

Courtney strolls off, ignoring Phils twitching body. Will and Raven, walking back toward their house, look down at Phil. Will snorts, flicking a coin onto Phils body.

Will: Get a coin, bum!

Brick looks over the edge of the roof, down at Phils twitching body as Will and Raven walk off.

Brick: Ouch.

Brick stumbles back, laying on a blue towel. Jericho, Bill, Jon, Vince and Ivan are also laying on towels, arms behind their head, looking up at the clear sky, admiring the sparkling stars embedded into the eternal sheet of onyx.

Jericho: …Well, looks like everythings going to get better.

Jon: That’s what everyone thinks..

Vince: Jerry, do you think life will get better?

Jericho: It’s got to..Hasn’t it?

Bill: Yeah. Too bad the wars starting to spread..

Vince: We’ll stave it off, right? …Right?

They watch as a B-52 Bomber zooms overhead, cutting a swath in the sky above. A few seconds, an explosion erupts nearby, causing their eardrums to rumble violently and a plume of black smoke to quaver barely over the visible horizon to the north-east.

Jericho: No, not really.

Bill, Jericho, Ivan, Vince, Brick and Jon sigh sadly to themselves.

COMING SOON: PART II - A visitor arrives among the mercenaries in the shape of Rex Houghton, who plans to interview the mercs and get a first-hand view of the horrors of Middle Eastern "warfare". As the mercenaries desperately scramble keep themselves busy in the waiting game for Big Shell, witness Falling Shelves, Playing ‘Chicken’ with a tank, Boiled Frogs Legs and A farewell to a certain ‘chilly’ friend!