EXT. BLUE BASE - DAY
Firefight outside the blue base. Bullets are hitting the canyon wall, kicking up dust and sparks. TUCKER is crouching, CABOOSE is behind a rock, and CHURCH (as Lopez, cobalt blue) is directing.
CHURCH: (In his Spanish-accented, robotic voice, pointing with his robotic arm) Okay, Tucker, I need you to get up there, help Caboose shore up the defense, establish a suppressing fire, and hold that position until further notice. ¡Muévete! (Move!)
TUCKER: (Shouting over the gunfire, exasperated) I didn't even know what half of that meant, Church! "Shore up the defense"? What am I, a carpenter?! And "suppressing fire"? Am I supposed to make them feel bad about themselves?
CHURCH: (Sighs, his optical sensor narrowing) Just go over to Caboose's rock, and fire your gun a bunch. Make loud noises. That's "suppressing fire." It's not rocket science, Tucker!
TUCKER: (Peeking over his cover, then ducking back as bullets whiz by) That rock? Yeah, I don't think so. That rock looks like it's seen better days. And it's too far! I'll get shot before I even get halfway there!
CHURCH: (His voice rising in frustration, a metallic whine) We do not, have time, to discuss this, Tucker! ¡Ahora! (Now!) This is a battle, not a tea party!
TUCKER: (Whining) Sure, no time for you to discuss it. You get to hang out here with Nancy No-Bullets shootin' the breeze. Meanwhile, I'm out there, running around, eating a machine gun sandwich. It's not fair! You always get the easy jobs!
CHURCH: Tucker, we're gonna give you covering fire. We'll make sure they don't hit you. Probably. We'll try our best.
TUCKER: Covering fire? Unless that means you're gonna build a huge, bullet-proof wall between me and them, I think you need to come up with a new plan. Preferably one that involves me keeping the same quantity of blood that I have right now. And all my limbs. And my dignity.
CHURCH: (A mischievous flicker in his optical sensor) No problem. Oh wait, wait, does the blood have to be in your body? Because I can't guarantee that. It might be... outside.
EXT. RED BASE - DAY
Zoom to GRIF and SIMMONS firing their respective machine guns at the Blues.
GRIF: (Straining, his voice hoarse, his arms shaking) Simmons... I can't feel my hands. They're going numb. I think I'm losing circulation.
SIMMONS: (Still firing, annoyed) Maybe you should lay off the trigger, you dumbass. You're going to break the gun. Or your own pathetic hands.
EXT. BLUE BASE - DAY
Zoom back to Church and the gang. DUFRESNE is standing awkwardly nearby, looking uncomfortable amidst the gunfire.
CHURCH: (Points at DuFresne with his robotic arm) Alright, you, Doc, get over there and help Caboose! He's probably already hurt himself. He's a magnet for self-inflicted injuries.
DUFRESNE: (Immediately, defensively, holding up his hands) My name isn't Doc, it's DuFresne. Medical Officer DuFresne. And I'm a medic, not a doctor. There's a very important distinction.
CHURCH: (Sighs, his optical sensor narrowing) Yeah. I can't pronounce that, so from now on, your name is Doc. It's easier. And it fits. Like a glove.
DUFRESNE: (A slight frown, adjusting his glasses) I'm not really comfortable with that; I'm not a doctor, I'm a medic. There's a significant difference in training and responsibility. Doctors have degrees, medics have... bandages.
CHURCH: What's the difference? Sounds like the same thing to me. You both wear white.
DUFRESNE: Well, a doctor cures people. They diagnose, they prescribe, they perform surgery. A medic just makes them more comfortable. While they die. There's a lot less paperwork for medics. And less legal liability.
YOU ARE READING
Red vs Blue (Male OC Insert)
FanficYou were one of the first freelancers and one of the best you could never fill a mission no matter what happens you always succeed no matter who you fight you always come out on top. You've lost a lot of people you care about in your life along with...
