Simmons and Grif bicker over surgery while Sarge discloses that Lopez is hiding secret plans.
At blue base, Tucker and Caboose are talking on the upper level.
Tucker: Man, Caboose. You were asleep for a long time. What were you dreaming about?
Caboose: Oh, nothing. I do not like to dream. I try not to think while I'm sleeping.
Tucker: That's pretty much how you function while you're awake, too.
Caboose: I think consistency is important.
Church: Well, you look ok. Then again, that's just the armor. How do you feel?
Caboose: Great! ...Who're you?
Church: Oh, come on! Not this again! How can you seriously not remember me?
Caboose: Oh, of course! I remember you... you're Marvin!
Church: I'm Church!
Caboose: I think I would remember a name that ridiculous. Nope, you are definitely Phil.
Church: You killed me with the tank.
Caboose: Dave!
Church: You insulted my girlfriend. You called her a cow.
Caboose: Karen!
Tucker: Dude, he called her a slut.
Caboose: Phineas?
Church: Your whole life is based around pleasing me.
Caboose: Wally.
Church: In fact, I think you're kind of obsessed with being my best friend.
Caboose: Milo?
Caboose turns around and whispers to Tucker, but it is loud enough that Church can hear.
Caboose: Psst. The new guy is pretty full of himself.
Church: New guy? What the- I'm not the new guy. You're the new guy!
Tucker: I don't know. I kinda like it. I could get used to calling you Rookie.
Church: Oh, yea? Could you get used to me beating you to death?
Caboose, again, turns to Tucker.
Caboose: Psst. What's wrong with the rookie? He seems mad.
Church: Oh, son of a bitch.
Caboose: Susan?
Donut is attempting to jump onto the upper level of Red Base, with Grif watching over him from above. Donut is making grunting noises as he jumps.
Grif: Donut, there is no way you can jump that high.
Donut pauses for a second after he lands.
Donut: Yes I can.
Donut continues jumping, chanting "Yes I can!" as he jumps. Simmons walks up to Grif.
Simmons: What the hell is he doing?
Grif: Losing a bet.
Donut lands back on the lower floor.
Donut: Oh, I almost got it that time! Are you sweating yet, sucker?
Grif: No, I can't sweat. Simmons' stupid sweat glands don't even work right.
Simmons: What? They were working when I gave them to you.
Grif: Please. I'm not moist in any of the usual places. If you want them back so bad, take 'em.
Simmons sighs.
Simmons: I can't. Sarge says that sweat makes my cyborg parts rusty. So, I'm cooled by Freon now.
Grif: Ah, delicious Freon.
Grif starts to cough violently.
Simmons: Grif, are you alright? Are my lungs ok? Hey, wait a minute. Are you smoking inside your helmet again?
Grif: What? No!
Grif blows out smoke from his helmet as he turns away from Simmons.
Grif: ...Oops.
Simmons: Dammit. I knew this would happen. And how many snack cakes have you had today?
Grif: None.
Simmons: ...
Grif: Ok, five... or more.
Donut grunts in the background.
Grif: Baker's dozen at most.
Simmons: Do you even know how many are in a baker's dozen?
Grif: By my count?
Donut, again, grunts in the background.
Grif: Forty-eight.
Simmons: Alright. That's it. No more smoking, no more drinking, and no more overeating, chubby! You're not going to ruin my body parts the same way you ruined yours.
Grif: That's ok. I can think of different ways to ruin them.
A loud noise comes from where Donut was.
Donut: Ah! Ah! Ow! Ahhhhh! Who left the spleen ball where someone could trip on it? I think I broke something. Simmons, I need your ovaries!
Simmons: Ugh, I really hate this army.
Sarge arrives.
Sarge: Grif; Simmons 2.0! I just got off the horn to Command. I'm afraid we have a situation.
Simmons: Ah, don't tell me they canceled the holiday party again! Those cheap bastards. All I wanted was one night of care-free dancing. But no! I ask you when it will be Simmons' turn? When?!
Grif and Sarge turn to look at each other before continuing.
Sarge: Uh, actually, the problem is with Lopez.
Grif: Don't tell me. The Consulate General from Spanish Land is coming, and without Lopez, we don't have anyone to translate.
Simmons: There's no such thing as Spanish Land, you retard.
Grif: Yes there is. They have those, uh... uh, waterslides. And all that salsa!
Simmons: No, they don't.
Grif: Well, I guess you would know.
Simmons: What's that supposed to mean? For the last time, I'm Dutch-Irish!
Grif: Hey, don't let your fiery Latin temper get out of control. I was just trying to make a point.
Sarge: Can it, Frankenstein. We've got a pot on the front burner, and it's a-boilin' over. I've just learned that Command implanted Lopez with secret instructions detailing the next phase of our operations. Do you have any idea what this means?
Grif: I uh... uh, Simmons? You want to take this one?
Simmons: Were you not listening again? What the hell were you thinking about?
Grif: Certainly not waterslides, I can tell you that much. Or salsa.
Sarge: What it means is that if we don't get back Lopez before the Blues uncover our secret plans, we'll be up pooper creek without a paddle.
Grif: Ew. Gi-a... that's gross!
Sarge: I'm talking about being lost in a forest of filth without a compass. Swimmin' in a river of sick with no floaties on. Drivin' blind, in to the tunnel of-
Simmons: Sir, I think we get the picture. The very, very disturbing picture.
Sarge: You sure? I could go on.
Grif: I'm sure you could. But no. Really.
Sarge: Just one more?
Grif: Stop.
Sarge: Come on, they're fun. Simmons, you try one. I'll start you off. Flyin' by the seat of your blank, with a blank in the blank. Eh?
Simmons: Sorry sir, I'm not good at word games.
Sarge: Ah, you're both a couple lousy blanks.
YOU ARE READING
Red vs Blue Season 2
Science FictionThe second season of the action-comedy series Red vs. Blue and part of the Blood Gulch Chronicles, written for reading pleasure on WattPad. When a mild-mannered medical officer find himself deployed to the most worthless stretch of land in the entir...