INT. GHOST'S JANITOR CLOSET - DAY
GHOST is standing in front of one of the teleporters in his janitor closet, surrounded by wires and tools. He's got a wrench in one hand and a frustrated look on his face.
GHOST: (Muttering to himself, frustrated) Whoever made these teleporters, I should shoot him in the face. And then gut him. And then feed his entrails to a pack of rabid space squirrels. OK, if I connect these two wires together and reroute the power from here to there and then connect that and presto... (A small spark, followed by a puff of smoke that makes him cough.) Seriously, if I find the person who made these teleporters... I'm going to strangle them! Slowly! With their own intestines! This is an engineering nightmare!
View through the teleporter to SARGE and CABOOSE shooting, clearly in a chaotic firefight.
SARGE: (Shouting, clearly in a firefight, his voice strained) Caboose, Caboose, keep them away from me! Get that one. And that one. No no, the one with the limp! Get 'im! He's an easy target! Don't let him escape!
GHOST: (Into his radio, surprised) Sarge, is that you? Where the hell are you? You sound like you're in a blender!
CABOOSE: (His deep, booming voice, firing his weapon with surprising accuracy) I don't want to kill... but... I don't want to die any more. It's a difficult choice. A philosophical dilemma in the heat of battle!
GHOST: (Into his radio) Caboose, can you hear me!? What's going on?!
CABOOSE: Yes, I heard you, Sargeant. You're very loud. And your voice has a strange echo. Are you in a cave?
SARGE: (Into his radio, annoyed) I didn't say anything, numbnuts. Now stop talking and keep firing!
View is solidly in Battle Creek, a snowy canyon, littered with scattered bodies and ongoing skirmishes.
SARGE: (To Caboose, panting, dodging a laser blast) Caboose, we have to break this never-ending cycle of attack and retaliation, either by A) convincing the two sides to live in peace, or B) by getting ourselves completely involved, and kicking some serious ass! I vote B. It's more fun. And involves less talking.
CABOOSE: (His deep voice, a thoughtful hum) I have a plan, Sargeant, but we will have to move quick. Listen: (He leans in, whispering loudly, his voice still booming) whisper whisper whisper. Do you think that will work? It's very subtle.
SARGE: (Stares at Caboose, bewildered, a vein throbbing in his temple) That's your plan? All you said was "whisper whisper whisper." Are you trying to give me an aneurysm?
CABOOSE: I know. I just wanted to be the one with the plan for once. It's a very secret plan. So secret, even I don't fully understand it.
SARGE: (Sighs, rubbing his temples, a look of utter defeat) Hgggh, come on. I have an idea. A real idea. One that doesn't involve whispering or brain damage.
EXT. UNKNOWN LOCATION - DAY
Black screen: "MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE GALAXY"
Fades in to a hallway. A BROWN SOLDIER is leaning against a wall, looking bored.
BROWN SOLDIER: This sucks, man. I have to do everything around here. Go guard the wall, Phil. Go paint the jeep, Phil. Go do everything, Phil. This sucks. I'm just Phil. The universal grunt.
A WHITE SOLDIER drops behind Phil, and he turns around, startled.
PHIL: What was that? (He turns around, sees nothing, then turns back, muttering.) Nothin', just that stupid, sucky wind. Breaking a twig, coming up behind me and... breathing, real heavy. (He turns around again, slowly.) What the?
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Red vs Blue (Male OC Insert)
FanfictionYou 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...
