Team Fortress 2 - The Mercs Get REAL Jobs

The End

All nine members of Mann Co regrouped in Saxton’s lounge. Pyro set about drawing pictures on the walls at once, so the others mostly ignored him.

“What happened to you?” Scout asked incredulously as he stared at Heavy, who was covered in cat claw marks.

“Cats,” Heavy answered, then made a face and covered his nose. “What is dat bad stink?!” he said, glaring at Sniper.

“Probably day old Jarate,” he answered, plucking at his clothes.

“So how well did each of us do?” Engineer asked, putting his hand into his pocket. “Let’s saddle up.”

They all put their money together and were more than a little disappointed by how small the pile was. Spy put the most in, since he had stolen right from his workplace’s cash registers, and Pyro put in the least of all. In other words, he pulled a ball of lint and a rubber band out of his pocket, set them in the pile, and returned to drawing on Saxton’s walls.

“Boys, I am disappointed by your lack of output!” Soldier snapped, shaking his head in shame.

“Excuse me, but you put in next to ze least!” Medic answered, crossing his arms sternly after pushing his glasses further up onto his nose.

“Yes, well, um…we’re not discussing that,” Soldier answered, glancing over to where Demoman was kissing a stick of dynamite in the corner and saying things like “Meh darling, Ah’m nevar gonna leave ya again…”

“Well…what we do now?” Heavy asked, rather sadly, and his words sent sorrow out into the air.

“Well gentlemen,” Spy said, taking his hat off of the coat rack nearby. “I suppose this means we will never see each other again. It has not always been a pleasure working with you, but if I had the chance, I would do it again.”

“Aye, mate,” Sniper said, and Engineer sniffled. Scout did too, and when Medic tilted his head at him, he said “I-I ain’t cryin’, hear me?! I just…got some shrapnel in my eye…”

Soldier, standing at attention by the door, said “Pansies.”

That’s when the door slammed open (nailing Soldier in the face) to emit Saxton Hale himself.

“We have a new emergency!” he shouted, pulling off his snorkel and flippers. “Our bases are being infiltrated by monsters, boys. Monsters led by the terrible Yeti McYeti, A.K.A. the Abominable Snowman. I had the displeasure of facing off with him in a wrestling match once, and when I cleaned his clock, he must not have ever lived it down. He’s back for revenge, so he’s gathered up all of the nastiest monsters he could. Bigfoot, cyclops, minotaur…hippies… He just had to get hippies. The worst monster of them all.”

“Hold on a moment!” Scout said, pushing past the others and rushing to the front. “So let me get this straight. A yeti has gathered his forces of other monsters and is soon to launch attacks on our bases, and we’re going to be rehired in order to fight them off?”

“You got that right,” Hale said gravely.

Scout blinked at him, then said “Works for me.”

“But how do we have enough money to be rehired?” Medic asked, frowning.

“Well, er…” Hale said, rubbing the back of his head. “I had to sell my statue off. I probably should’ve done that from the beginning. It would’ve saved you all the trouble of getting jobs! Ha ha ha!”

Nobody was laughing.

“Ha…ahem…anyways,” Hale said, clearing his throat. “I’m here to rehire you all. What do you say? Want to rejoin Mann Co and fight some monsters?”

The group of men all looked at each other, then grins broke out over their faces. With thunderous cheers, they grabbed their weapons and readied themselves for the coming battles.

Fighting, after all, was what they did best.