Red Owl Vs Blue Raven

What's Mine is Yours

Simmons: What the hell is he doing?

Grif: Losing a bet.

Amity: Big time.

Donut lands back on the lower floor.

Donut: Oh, I almost got it that time! Are you sweating yet, sucker?

Amity: No because your not getting even close get up here.

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.

Amity: I still can't believe we could had a ac unit in your armor.

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.

Amity: Wait you smoke?

Grif: Yeah why?

Amity: I just never see you as a smoker.

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.

Amity: He had baker's dozen at most.

Simmons: Dose he 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.

Amity: Now I'm curious how you would do that.

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!

Amity: No you don't!

Simmons: Ugh, I really hate this army.

Sarge arrives.

Sarge: Grif; Simmons 2.0, Amity! 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?!

Amity: Oh come on! I just want to go to a party get hammered and then wake up in bed with a random hookup!

Grif and Sarge turn to look at each other before continuing.

Sarge: Uh, actually, the problem is with Lopez.

Amity: Oh well. Pretend I didn't say that.

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!

Amity: That sounds like fun.

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!

Amity: What the fuck.

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-

Amity: Shut up! We get it! Fuck that was gross!

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?

The screen fades black.

Simmons: Sorry sir, I'm not good at word games.

Sarge: Ah, you're both a couple lousy blanks.

Amity: So what's the plan on getting Lopez back.