Sarge: Attention: Blue Team! This is the Red Team! We are here to destroy you! Your long reign of being the shittiest 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 backs down towards Red Base, where Simmons Alex, South, and Grif are standing.
Sarge: Hehe. Alright, that oughta scare the bejeebus out of them!
Simmons: Actually, sir. Since it's just two of them over there—
Grif: And one of them is an idiot...
Alex: But Caboose is really strong
Simmons: —I don't really see the point in psychological warfare.
Sarge: You're right, Simmons. It's not really accurate to refer to one person as a team. What's better? Blue People? Blue Men? Bluetonian?
Simmons: What I meant was—
Sarge: Bluetard!
South: Bluetard sounds like a blue berry candy.
Sarge: A Disgusting candy because it is Blue!
Simmons: ...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?
Sarge: There's an order to this, Simmons. We can't abandon protocol just because we have an advantage! We have to give them a chance to see the errors of there 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.
Simmons: ... Dibs on the computers.
Alex: I'll take wills rifle.
South: I'll take Delta.
Sarge: Noted. Now watch that base. Tell me if anything changes.
Simmons: Yes, sir! And sir?
Sarge: Yes, Simmons?
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.
Alex: A short lived victory.
Sarge: 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. (pause) Ah... okay. Glad we had this talk.
Simmons: [hopeful] Are you glad I'm here too, Sarge?
Sarge: Of course I am.
Simmons: I knew it! I just could—
Sarge: The squad's kill-death ratio is the most important measurement when evaluating sergeants! If you had died, that would've hurt my numbers.
Simmons: (sniffs; walks off) (dejectedly) Glad I could help!
Sarge: 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.
Grif: You know, I'm standing right here.
Alex: We all know.
Sarge: Right where I want you: within face-stabbing range!
A radio sounds.
Sarge: Lopez, how are those vehicle repairs coming?
Lopez: . [Coming? The jeep is destroyed. It can't be fixed.]
Sarge: Got an ETA?
Lopez: . [Yes. Never.]
Sarge: As long as they get it ASAP! Cuz I need it PDQ!
Lopez: . [In that case, never minus one.]
Sarge: Lopez, you're a regular RFR—Really Fast Robot. Grif! Make a note in the acronym journal. Simmons! Status report!
Simmons: (watching over the Blue Base) Still just two Blues, sir.
Sarge: Lopez! Status report!
Lopez: [You already talked to me, jackass!]
Sarge: (runs back to the hill) Hey, Blues! Don't think we've forgotten about ya! Still gonna kill ya any second! (heads back towards his base) Count on it!
Grif: Sarge, have you thought this invasion all the way through?
Alex: Ya.
Sarge: Of course I have! We beat the Blues; we win, you suck. That's all the way through.
Simmons returns as well.
Grif: Uh, and who do we fight then?
South: Caboose and Will are going to be dead.
Sarge: We fight... with other Blues!
Grif: But what if no more Blues come? I mean they haven't sent reinforcements yet. What if they never do?
Alex: Command won't care to send more.
Simmons: Why would you want more Blues?
Grif: Well, we have this new base and all this new equipment. Who else are we gonna test it on?
Simmons: Who cares!? The war would be over!
Grif: Oh. Great.
Sarge: You're suggesting we don't attack them? Grif, that's borderline traitorism!
Alex: I think it is stratagy.
Simmons: I think the word you're looking for is treason, sir.
Grif: Never mind, Sarge. I was wrong. If the war's over and we win, well that's just great.
Sarge: Of course it would be!
Grif: I mean, no more early morning runs. No more training exercises. Why would we need to do any of that stuff, right? We won!
Alex: We can destroy our armor.
South: What are you guys doing?
Sarge: Right...?
Grif: And all this new equipment—we can just let them fall into disrepair. I mean, we don't need it! We won't even need to test it, because we're winning. We're about to make it all obsolete.
Sarge: (groans)
Grif: And just think about this, Sarge! No more boring staff meetings! Ever!
Sarge: (groans some more; runs back to the hill) Hey, Blue! There's uh, gonna be a slight delay in your destruction! Hang tight! (to Grif and Simmons) Maybe I should call our new command. They'll tell us what we should do.
Grif: Heh, yeah, the old one was so great, the new one's gotta be even better.
Alex: Technically VIC was glitching.
A radio sounds.
Sarge: Command! Come in, Command! This is Blood Gulch Outpost-... wait... I mean, Simmons, what's the name of this place again?
Simmons: Valhalla.
Sarge: Valhaldagir-jangle-callit... thingy... Outpost Number One! Do you read? Come in! I need advisement on what to do about Blue Team!
Simmons: What are you doing?
Grif: What do you mean, what am I doing? We have two enemys here. We can milk this for years!
Sarge: No, Blue Team! (slowly) Ba-lue...
Caboose waltzes up to Simmons Alex and south and Grif, who fail to notice him. He looks back and forth between who's talking.
Grif: If we beat them, Command will just send us to some new base, where we have to fight a real team.
Simmons: So?
Alex: So!? Do you want to fight one shitty enemy, or five real enemies?
Sarge: B-L-U-E. Blue! Try lookin' under "suck it!"
Grif: You want me to help you subtract one from five? I know that's tough for you.
Simmons: Shut up.
Caboose: Hey guys.
South: Hey Caboose.
Simmons: What are you doing here!?
Caboose: Just gettin' parts from the crashed ship. What are you guys up to?
Grif: We're deciding whether or not to kill you and wipe out your team forever.
Alex: And burn your remains.
Caboose: Ah. Sounds tough.
Grif: We're kinda splittin' the decision right now.
Caboose: Do I get a vote?
Simmons: No! G-Get back to your base! Stop wandering around during your defeat. It's confusing!
Caboose: Oh! Okay. Sorry! (begins to head back towards his base)
Simmons: And what are you guys workin' on?
Caboose: Still not telling you!
South: You really want to know what he's working on it's probably dumb
Sarge: Hello? Hello? Hello? They hung up on me!
Simmons: Why?
Sarge: They said they didn't even have record of a Blue Team. Nothing on Blues at all in their computer system.
South: Why would they oh ya that.
Simmons: Oh. ... Ohhhh!
Sarge: What?
Simmons: We deleted them, remember? From Command computers. We wiped them out.
Sarge: We did?
Simmons: Yeah, don't you remember?
Sarge: Ohhh, right.
Cuts to a flashback. Grif and Sarge are standing behind Simmons, who is looking at a computer.
Sarge: Simmons, execute the hypotenuse initiative, and delete the Blues.
Simmons: (presses a switch) Done! The Blues now never existed. I also upgraded your pay scale while I was at it.
Sarge: Well deserved.
Grif: Yeah, we win!
Sarge cocks his shotgun and shoots Grif in the head. Grif falls over.
Grif: Blarg! I am dead, but that's okay, I don't deserve to enjoy victory. My life has meant nothing.
Sarge: What a great day! Simmons, transform into Motorcycle Mode.
Simmons: [monotone] You got it, sir. (begins changing into a motorcycle) Choop choop choop choop choop! Beep beep!
Sarge: Let's get out of here. (hops on motorcycle-Simmons and drives outside) Yee-haw!
Caboose: I wish I was on the Red Team, don't you Jenkins?
Jenkins: Absolutely.
End flashback.
Grif: That's not what happened!
Sarge: Of course it is.
Grif: Then how am I still alive?
Sarge: I ask myself that question every day. (pauses) Moto-Simmons! Run him over.
Alex: I don't think Will's name is Jenkins.