Who's a Spy? (Team Fortress 2 - Scout) - HIATUS

4TH OF JULY SPECIAL

***NOTE: Because this is a special, it has no connection to the story WHATSOEVER.

"What the hell is that?" Spy tapped at his cigarette. The whole team was called to a meeting, by Scout, to discuss future strategies. It was obvioius he had a different thing to discuss about. 

"It's what everybody does!" Scout thrust up his arms. "You get a load a' fireworks and then... you BLAST them up‒way up‒into da sky!" 

"There ain't no fireworks in bloody Australia, you drongo!" 

Scout quickly stood up and pointed a finger at Mundy. "Ah, yes, BUT!... we're in America now. Rule is ya gotta celebrate the lifestyle."

"You incompetent idiot," Spy closed his eyes and laid back on the chair. A warm breeze flew in. 

"Son," Dell said, "if I may add this in... even if we are gonna do this fireworks thing... where the heck are we gonna find ourselves powder with that much power?" 

Scout stood up once again and made his way over to Medic's cabinet. He opened it, pulled out an atomic punch soda and closed it. Medic gave a quick gasp. "We'll make somethin' up." 

"Now's not thee time fa makin' somethin' up! We gotta get ta explodin'!!!" Demo raised his grenade launcher into the air. I noticed he had not one single beer bottle in his hands for the past few days. 

Everyone slowly turned their heads towards him. 

"...What ye all thinkin'?" 

I discreetly smiled. "Are all of us on the same page?" 

"You betcha, sister." Dell tapped the arm rest of his chair. 

--

"Loofah," Dell held out his hand. 

"Loofah!!" I shouted to the end of the room. Scout nodded to me, raced up the stairs and repeated the message. In a quick second he rushed back down and tossed the bath sponge to me. 

"Loofah." I handed it to Dell. I tugged at my surgeon's mask. Both Dell and I were wearing one, provided by Medic. They weren't really necessary, but they were available. So why not. 

"Hockey puck." 

"Hockey puck!" 

Scout disappeared to the upper level once again. 

Dell and I were stationed here in the center of the living room, while everyone else had a different section of the base to occupy. Their job was to hand the objects specific to their room they thought was correct over to Scout, who's job was to retreive it as fast as he could to Dell and me. Dell's job was to develop the explosive, and my job was to pick which item was the absolute right one from the rest to give to Dell.

I was given a bar of soap, a stick of butter, a rounded candle, and a rubber ducky. No hockey puck at all. I held my breath.

"Hockey puck." I handed over the rubber ducky. 

Dell wiped his brow and set down his wrench. 

"...Sandwich!" He thoughtfully smiled. 

"Sand!‒wait... sandwich?" I turned to him. He showed me a toothy grin and wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Oh, all right. Sandwich!" 

"On it," Scout vanished. 

Seconds later I heard a clanking of metals and even shards of glass scattering upstairs. Walls were banging and our operation table shook. Heavy's excruciating cries echoed down the stairs before I heard a sharp thud to the ground. Appearing back unscarred, Scout managed to give to me a perfect triangle-shaped sandwich.