Episode 1: One-Zero-One

Washington:
(voiceover) Journal entry, one-zero-one.
Fade in to relevant panning shots of the new bases and surrounding areas
Washington:
(voiceover) It's been a while since I've done one of these so uh, let's get caught up to speed. Everything can be traced back to Project Freelancer: a military organization gone horribly wrong. The men in charge were corrupt, and the soldiers who followed them were blind - and guess which side I was on. Eventually, it was the project's own creations that tore it to pieces and I was the one sent out to pick them up. I recovered weapons, armor and A.I. fragments all in an effort to keep the wrong people from getting them first. But I was too slow. Everyone fought over the remnants of Project Freelancer. I didn't think I could believe in anyone any more. But then, I met the Reds and Blues.
Cross fade to a shot of Sarge approaching Caboose on a bridge
Sarge:
Hey Caboose!
Caboose:
Hello.
Sarge:
We've got a proposition for you.
Caboose:
For me? Oh well you shouldn't have.
Washington:
(voiceover) They had been used by the Freelancers just like I had. They were cannon fodder in a conflict with no purpose, but more importantly...
Pan to a shot of Caboose and Sarge approaching Tucker
Caboose:
Tucker, the Reds gave us a proposition! We should really send them back some sort of thank-you basket... thing.
Tucker:
A proposition just means a choice you idiot.
Caboose:
Oh. We will take the funny one.
Sarge:
But you don't even know what the proposition is yet.
Caboose:
Well then we don't know that it isn't funny then do we?
Washington:
(voiceover) They were just stupid enough to trust. Together we were able to put an end to everything: the Freelancers, the A.I., even the Director of the whole operation. They're all gone. And as for us, well... we're shipwrecked. Crashed during our ride home. And if we're not rescued soon, I have a feeling something else might find us first.
The epic pans finally actually settle on Wash in present time
Washington:
This is Agent Washington signing-
A loud explosion-like sound is heard in the background
Washington:
Oh what now!?
Cut to the tank firing over something. Sarge is inside
Simmons:
You missed, Sir.
Sarge:
Dag nabbit, who in sam hell set this thing to inverted?
Simmons:
Well Sir, statistically most users enjoy a-
Sarge:
Dergaferdigaegerhergerdeger!
Simmons:
Well uh, eh-uh-er- It was probably Grif, Sir.
Grif:
Hey! What the fuck is going on out here?
Grif emerges from the base. Because where else would he be?
Grif:
Who's firing at our base?
Sarge:
We are.
Grif:
You are?
Sarge:
Our base is in desperate need of renovations. Figured I'd tear down the East Wing, and put in something nice and decorative. Like a mortar cannon.
Grif:
And it didn't occur to you to warn me before you started blowing holes in the side of the wall?
Sarge:
...
Sarge fires and hits the East Wing dead on, very near Grif
Grif:
Oh come on!
Simmons:
Direct hit, Sir.
Sarge:
No it wasn't...
Wash approaches
Washington:
What are you two doing?!
Sarge turns the turret to face Wash
Sarge:
Well if it isn't our good friend Agent Washington.
Washington:
Don't try to butter me up. Also, please refrain from pointing that at me.
Sarge:
Fine.
The turret turns away
Simmons:
We were just firing the tank for a little construction work.
Washington:
Really. And which one of my men authorized this?
Simmons:
...
Washington:
It was Caboose, wasn't it.
Caboose:
Probably.
Washington:
*sigh* Sarge, get out of the tank.
Sarge:
Not a chance, Blue! Possession's nine tenths of the law. The other tenth is a tank. I've got both. Besides, we need it to upgrade our quarters.
Washington:
Your quarters are fine.
Grif:
Yeah, now get out of the tank you senile old-
Sarge fires and hits very near Grif, knocking him down
Grif:
Fuck- son of a bitch!
Sarge:
Finger slipped.
Washington:
Out. Now.
Caboose:
My turn!
Washington:
Please, be quiet.
Caboose:
(whispering) My turn.
Sarge exits the tank
Sarge:
This, is an outrage! Blue Base is built directly below the crash site. You've got an unfair advantage.
Washington:
Sarge, the Reds and Blues aren't fighting. We're just camped in opposite ends of the canyon in, colour, devided, teams. While heavily armed.
Sarge:
True. But have you ever considered that fighting is just in our nature? It's almost instinctual. If we're not constantly trying to stab each other in the back, we'll surely die.
Washington:
Dear God I hate you.
Sarge:
That's the spirit! Heh heh.
Grif:
We may not be fighting, but you're still way closer to the food stores than we are. And that is something I will not stand for.
Simmons:
You won't stand for anything, fatass.
Grif:
If you were a few feet closer, you'd be sorry.
Washington:
If we don't ration our food, we'll all be sorry. We do have to get our communications dish online, and if we run out of food before we can radio for help, we're screwed.
Grif:
Buzzkill.
Washington:
Come on Caboose. We need to go have a chat with Private Tucker.
Wash and Caboose drive off
Simmons:
There goes the revered leader of the Blue Army. What a dick.
Sarge:
Fine, we don't need that tank anyway. As many great twenty-first century movie trailers once said, "This, is only the beginning." And then text would appear on the screen, and the music would cut out abruptly, and they'd say one, final line of dialogue, to leave the audience with the ultimate sense of excitement!
Grif:
Like what?
Sarge:
I don't know.
 

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