Open to space, the camera showing numerous galaxies and planets. As the camera pans over a red planet with rings, Lopez speaks.
Lopez: Espacio... de la última frontera. Estos son los viajes de la Nave Espacial López. [Space... the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Lopez. ]
The camera pans to the left to reveal Lopez's flying head.
Lopez: Es misión continua: explorar nuevos mundos extraños... buscar nueva vida y nuevas civilizaciones... [It's continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds... to seek out new life and new civilizations...]
The camera pans around to the back of Lopez's head.
Lopez: Para ir audazmente donde ningún robot ha ido antes. [To boldly go where no robot has gone before.]
Lopez's head takes off like a spaceship as mock movie credits roll. Lopez's head is abruptly abducted.
Lopez: ¿Que? [What the?]
Cut to Lopez's head being dropped on the floor of a ship.
Lopez: ¿Que esta pasando? ¿Quién está ahí? [What's going on? Who's there?]
Locus decloaks behind him and another pair of feet appear next to him.
Lopez: Ayuda. [Help.]
Cut to various scenes of the place the Reds and Blues were at before leaving for Church.
Grif: Listen, Simmons. Shh. I got... some things to say. To you. Some things that I gotta get off my chest buddy! (whispering to himself) Buddy? Nah. Not buddy. Stupid. Friend? Friend. No, friend! Definitely friend. (back to regular tone) Anyway! I've had a bit of time to think about some things. Lots of time actually. Oodles of time! Oodles of buckets of times of time. Tiempo de Mucho. Mucho de Tiempo! Now, listen, Simmons. (to himself, again) Sim-mons. Sim- Cinnamon. Similaria- Gaah! Focus, Grif! (back to Simmons) Now, things ended really bad out there, buddy, (to himself) no, friend! (back to Simmons) and I've been thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking. I need to tell you that I am super duper- uh, I am so incredibly--
Cut to a volleyball, with Simmons's helmet poorly drawn onto it. Supposedly gold aluminum taped on for the visor.
Grif, in a mock-Simmons voice: Hungry? You're hungry, aren't you?
Cut back to Grif.
Grif: No, Simmons, I'm not hungry! That's not what I'm trying to say. What I'm trying to say, is that I'm-
Volleyball Simmons: Thirsty? Glug glug.
Grif: No! What I am trying to say is that I am incredibly-
Cut to another volleyball, this time with Sarge's helmet.
Grif, in a mock-Sarge voice: Lazy? Good-for-nothin'? Waste of fatty tissue and brain cells?
Grif: Not now, Sarge! I'm trying to talk to Simmons. It's important.
Volleyball Sarge: Not as important as your job, Grif! Y'know you're supposed to be on... guard duty, ahurk-ahurk-ahurr.
Grif: Sarge, we've covered this. Technically, I am on break.
Volleyball Sarge: It's not every week that Command sees fit to send us the latest'n'greatest in invisible hover-tank technology, Grif! Instead'a guardin' it, you're over there playin' grab-ass with Private Dick Simmons!
Grif: I'm sure the tank is fine. It's not like it's gonna disappear.
Cut to a plot of grass mowed to look like a tank.
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Red vs blue (female OC) season 15
FanfictionIt's been months since the fight with Hargrove and the reds and blues are now committing crimes, not only that but all the freelancers are going missing. The UNSC are convinced that their killers except people that know them and only one person it c...
