Agent Arizona: Recollection

Don't Get Me Started

Ever since Rex Wolford AKA: Agent Arizona joined his father and his team in Val Halla, he's been doing his best to keep his sanity in check. Recently he and Red team have been fighting Caboose, Sarge runs up a rock and stands on the edge. 

"Attention: Blue Team! This is the Red Team! We are here to destroy you! Your long reign of being the crappiest team around is about to come to the sudden and cataclysmic end! We will give you a few moments to suck in the horrors of this announcement! And then return for your reaction. Be right back!" Sarge then comes down the rock towards Grif, Simmons, and Zone. 

"Hehe. Alright, that oughta scare the bejeebus out of them!" Sarge chuckles. 

[Seriously dad?] Zone questions. 

Simmons then says, "Actually, sir. Since it's just one of them over there..." 

"And the one is an idiot..." Grif adds. 

"I don't really see the point in psychological warfare." Simmons states. 

"You're right, Simmons." Sarge agrees. "It's not really accurate to refer to one person as a team. What's better? Blue Person? Blue Man? Bluetonian?" 

[Dear God, have mercy on my soul...] Zone sighs. 

"What I meant was—"

"Bluetard!" Sarge interjects. 

"What I meant was, I don't see the point in announcing to him that we're gonna attack. Why don't we just do it?" Simmons asks. 

[He's got a point dad.] 

"There's an order to this, Rex." Sarge argues. "We can't abandon protocol just because we have an advantage! We have to give him a chance to see the errors of his Blue ways! To lay down his arms and meet his fellow men at the table of peace, where we can work together towards a better world. A world that's better, because we poisoned his food at that table, and stabbed him in the eye with a fork. And taken all his stuff." 

"Dibs on the computers." Simmons says greedily. 

"Noted. Now watch that base. Tell me if anything changes." Sarge orders. 

"Yes, sir! And sir?" 

"Yes, Simmons?" 

"I just wanna say, I'm glad I was here to see you on your day of victory. It's been a long time coming." 

"Yes it has, hasn't it? My skills as a leader have really taken us far. It must've been quite an honor to serve with me. Ah...okay. Glad we had this talk." 

"Are you glad I'm here too, Sarge?" Simmons asks. 

"Of course I am." 

"I knew it! I just could—" 

"The squad's kill-death ratio is the most important measurement when evaluating sergeants! If you had died, that would've hurt my numbers." 

"Glad I could help!" Simmons walks off trying not to cry. 

"It's better to keep a little padding in our stats! That way, if we're far enough ahead, I can stab Grif in the face, and still stay in the lead." Sarge calls out. 

"You know, I'm standing right here." Grif states. 

"Right where I want you: within face-stabbing range!" Sarge then turns on his radio. "Lopez, how are those vehicle repairs coming?" 

<Coming? The jeep is destroyed. It can't be fixed.> Lopez replies. 

"Got an ETA?" Sarge asks clueless.