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

Slight Side Effect

Earlier today I figured out that I'd be playing prop hunt. "Why a mini-game?" I asked Medic. I was sitting right next to him in this cruddy, smelly van. We were on our way there.

"Zhe Old Lady vhants some fun every now an' zhen, ja?" 

"So we turn into things... just like that? Like magic?" 

He inched near my face as a ghastly light illuminated his sharp features, his eyes gradually becoming wide. "Like all zhe magic in zhe world..."

Clearly it was magic if our whole bodies would transform into the strangest things such as buckets or even heaps of logs. It was a mystery how and where our insides went as we shapeshifted, but it wasn't a question anybody on this team would really ask themselves. Being self aware wasn't the best thing to be when no one else thought the same way. Magic was the answer. But then again, I was a spy. Though I could only shapeshift into humans, it was still unexplained shapeshifting nonetheless. 

"Why don't you two pipe down?" Scout kept his eyes closed. "Can't a guy sleep.." 

And so we remained abnormally quiet for a while. It was okay; there really wasn't anything to talk about next anyway. Small talk was something I wasn't too great at, either. So basically I was to turn into something like a block of hay... and hide either in plain sight of the enemy or completely covered. There were no rules for hiding. I guess as long as it was hiding; that'd be good enough. But then again, I've heard stories of running and jumping around as a prop, trying your best to outrun the enemy. Which wasn't the best idea. There were really no rules at all. I really didn't see the point of it. But as Medic said... this was for fun.

"It ain't that bad..." Dell turned his head sideways from the victor's seat. "Y'all need 'a loosen up every now and then." 

"But they're bloody cheats." Mundy folded his arms and the tip of his shoes touched mine as he stretched. 

I scooted myself up higher against the walls as we hit another bump. "How?" 

"Beats me; they'll sniff you out in a second they come your way. Next thing you know you've carked it even before you can bail."

In a bit of an unnecessary reflix, Soldier shot up from his nap. "Now hear this camper, bad at hiding!"

"Oi, lend me your bodgy shovel, ya pickle-headed drongo." Mundy stretched across from Spy and pointed a very slim, excellently still finger at the forehead of Soldier's helmet. "I'll dig your grave!"

"Will you kill me first?" 

So then forever and ever for the rest of this ride persisted the bickering defensive and offensive class. Every now and then one of them would mutter a low, sly offense about the other, and in turn the other would give quite a stubborn snub, and later proceed to mutter a slightly harsher insult. It sooner ended up with whoever outlasted the other, which I was told, was a normal thing. The only way to endure it was to ignore it.

My way of coping was to drone in on the motor's hum. It drowned out Mundy's and Soldier's spoken abuse and surprisingly enough, the sway and bouncing of the van lulled me to sleep.

-----

"Time to GO!!!!!!!!" Heavy painfully shouted into my ear. My head sprung up from my pillow and a yawn quickly escaped my lungs. 

"Haha, look at that... the princess drooled!" Scout pointed from outside. I glanced to my left, and sure enough... on my pillow, which was Medic's right shoulder... was a nice, darkened portion of his clothing where I had done the deed. My hand trailed across my mouth. Right on the corner of it was the hardened evidence; I rubbed it off as hard as I wanted to punch Scout. Fortunately, Medic had also drooled... and was still asleep. Double the gross, but less the blame for me. He wouldn't notice a thing. Lesson learned anyway; I'll just remind myself never to sleep on these trips for as long as I'm in this team.