Red gets a delivery

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Grif and Simmons are seen running to a soldier in red, Sarge.

Sarge: Hurry up, ladies. This ain’t no ice cream social.

Simmons: Ice cream social?

Sarge: Stop the pillow talk, you two. Anyone…want to guess…why I gathered you here…today?

Grif: Uh… is it because the war’s over and you’re sending us home?

Sarge: That’s exactly it, Private. War’s over. We won. Turns out you’re the big hero, and we’re gonna hold a parade in your honor. I get to drive the float. And Simmons here is in CHARGE OF CONFETTI!

Grif: I’m no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

Sarge: God DAMN it, Private! Shut your mouth, or else I’ll have Simmons slit your throat while you’re asleep!

Simmons: Oh, I’d do it, too.

Sarge: I know you would, Simmons. Good man. Couple of things today, ladies. Command has seen fit to increase our ranks here at Blood Gulch Outpost Number One.

Grif: Crap. We’re getting a rookie.

Sarge: That’s right, dead man. Our new recruit will be here within the week. But today, we received the first part of our shipment from Command. Lopez. Bring up the vehicle.

A soldier(?) in brown armor drives in on a vehicle then gets off.

Simmons: Shotgun!

Grif: Shotgun! Fuck.

Sarge: May I introduce our new light reconnaissance vehicle. It has four-inch armor plating, mag bumper suspension, a mounted machine-gunner position, And total seating for three. Gentlemen! This is the M12 LRV! I like to call it the ‘Warthog.’

Simmons: Why ‘Warthog’, sir?

Sarge: Because M12 LRV is too hard to say in conversation, son.

Grif: No, but… why ‘Warthog’? I mean, it doesn’t really look like a pig.

Sarge: Say that again?

Grif: I think it looks more like a puma.

Sarge: What in Sam Hill is a puma?

Simmons: Uh, you mean like the shoe company?

Grif: No, like a puma.bIt’s a big cat, like a lion.

Sarge: … You’re makin’ that up.

Grif: I’m telling you, it’s a real animal!

Sarge: Simmons, I want you to poison Grif’s next meal.

Simmons: Yes, sir!

Sarge: Look, see these two tow hooks? They look like tusks. And what kind of animal has tusks?

Grif: A walrus.

Sarge: Didn’t I just tell you to stop making up animals?

Cut to the blues still on the cliff side.

Tucker: What is that thing?

Church: I don’t know. It looks like, uh… Looks like they got some kinda car down there. We better get back to base and report it.

Tucker: A car? How come they get a car?

Church: What are you complaining about, man? We’re about to get a tank in the very next drop.

Tucker: You can’t pick up chicks in a tank.

Rayner: First off, I doubt a cool car is going to be enough for you to woo some girls. Second, what girls are you gonna pick up in the middle of goddamn war?

Church: Yeah, you know what? You could bitch about anything, couldn’t you? We’re gonna get a tank, and you’re worried about chicks. How are you gonna pick up chicks in a car that looks like that anyway?

Tucker: What kind of car is it?

Church: I don’t know, I’ve never seen a car like that before. It looks like a, uhh…like a big cat of some kind.

Tucker: What, like a puma?

Church: Yeah man, there you go.

Rayner: Yeah, I don’t  see the resemblance.
Cut back to the reds.

Sarge: So unless anybody has any more mythical creatures to suggest as a name for the new vehicle, We’re gonna stick with the Warthog. How about it, Grif?

Grif: [dejected] No, sir. No more suggestions.

Sarge: Are you sure? How ‘bout Bigfoot?

Grif: It’s okay.

Sarge: Unicorn?

Grif: No, really. Uh, I’m cool.

Sarge: Sasquatch?

Simmons: Leprechaun?

Grif: Hey, he doesn’t need any help, man.

Sarge: Phoenix?

Grif: *sigh* Christ.

Sarge: Hey, Simmons! What’s the name of that Mexican lizard? Eats all the goats?

Simmons: Uh, that would be the Chupacabra, sir.

Sarge: Hey, Grif! Chupa-thingy, how ‘bout that? I like it. Got a ring to it.

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