* * *

Blue orbs of energy splashed behind Mulligan. He peered up from behind the trunk of the car he was hiding behind. Up the street and in a recently abandoned intersection were a bunch of what looked like severed testicles running around with little arms and legs wearing a shit ton of body armor. Mulligan made the assumption that because he had always tried to keep his boys safe, he would do doubly so if he only had one left, and that was why they were wearing so much body armor.

“Those relatives of yours, Ballsack,” Mulligan asked.

The guy next to him looked around. Was Mulligan talking to him? It looked like he was talking to him, but it was always hard to tell with these damn helmets on. When Mulligan continued to look at him, or appeared to look at him, he had to ask. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes. I’m talking to you. Jesus, Ballsack is your comm on?”

“Why are you calling me Ballsack?”

“Because that’s your name,” answered a confused Mulligan, pointing at Ballsack’s nameplate.

“That says Rauzchek,” stated the bewildered man. “Can you read?”

Mulligan shrugged. “Sometimes. My meds have me a little dyslexic.”

Laughter broke out behind them. It was the sarge followed by members of red and blue team, who had been privy to the entire conversation.

The sarge cut through the laughter with his own statement. “As much as I’m loving retard theater, how about you guys get out there and clear us a path?

Mulligan gave him a quick salute, which he meant more as a fuck you, before turning back to the opposition. He didn’t think these aliens would be that hard to take out and those orbs that they fired from their tiny guns moved slow enough he figured he could dodge them, but he wasn’t too sure what would happen if he came in contact with one. From what he had witnessed, when they had hit civilians, that contact either meant instant death or unconsciousness. He wasn’t sure what that meant for him or his armor, but best to assume the worst.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” Rauzchek said, taking charge of his team.

Mulligan followed. He wished Rooney were still with him. As fucked up as that guy was, he could kick some ass. Although he would probably take out the rest of the team in the process. Rooney was the kind of personality that liked blood in his coffee and didn’t care if it was infant or man.

Another blast came their way, which they easily ducked and dodged as they worked their way closer, while red and blue team provided suppression fire. Rauzchek fired off a three-round burst that pinged off a car and barely missed one of the aliens, who gave a little jump and scream before pissing itself. Oh, wait, no. The scream hadn’t come from the alien. The alien had given off more of a squeal that had been masked by the scream.

Mulligan scanned the area by the alien. A woman sat in the driver’s seat of the car Rauzchek had just shot.

“Watch your fire. We have civilians in the hot zone,” Rauzchek said, apparently having seen the woman same as Mulligan.

“Copy that. You guys are on your own until the area is clear,” replied the sarge, making it apparent that they weren’t going to move up in order to get a better shot.

Rauzchek replied with a cold, “Copy.”

By now, the alien had realized there was a woman in the car it was hiding behind and was repeatedly firing into the passenger side window, trying to hit her. The glass dispersed each shot, leaving the car a little singed, but the woman inside unharmed and screaming. Fight or flight mode had kicked in and if she could’ve remembered how to unlock the door, she would have been out of it and running right into gunfire in a heartbeat. Two other aliens, after noticing that their comrades had found something, began running around the intersection turned parking lot looking inside cars or jumping up in the air in an attempt to get peaks into vehicles that they were too high to look into. Rauzchek’s voice came blurring into Mulligan’s helmet. He had forgotten how high he had turned it up in order to hear his commands over the gunfire, and winced in pain.

“Okay guys, you heard him. Our top priority is saving that woman and any other possible civilians. Make your shots count and move up.”

The four of them is the exact through the cars that turned the streets into a labyrinth. They tried to stay together as best they could but were repeatedly driven apart by askew vehicles that forced them apart. It was better to stay low and go around than go high and get shot. Granted, the alien gunfire had subsided for the most part as the aliens were immersed in finding humans, but occasionally a random shot would ring out and one of the soldiers would have to take cover. The other guy was the first to make contact. Mulligan didn’t remember his name but then again Mulligan had never asked for it. The man with no name tried to take the abuse collar like alien by surprise but missed his first shot when he came around the back corner of a vehicle and caught his armor on a pair of the truck nuts hanging from the oversize spoiler like a pirate’s earring, sending his shotgun blast wild. The alien was able to flee around the other side of the vehicle and now they were engaged in a deadly game of ring around the pussy mobile. At least that was according to the tramp stamp on the back of the trunk lid.

That’s when Mulligan came across his first down civilian laying sprawled out in between two cars. Mulligan shook him gently and the man let out a little groan.

“Are you okay?”

Mulligan shook him a little harder, and the man groaned a little louder. This confirmed what Mulligan had already been thinking. He shouted out at, uh, that one dude.

“Hey man.”

Man was always the preferred pronoun that he used when he didn’t know someone’s name. It became very awkward when he used to talking to a woman.

“looking good over there, and everything.”

He hadn’t really planned on what he was going to say before he open his mouth speaking far louder than he needed as he tried to shout over cars forgetting that they were on a closed comm, sending the rest of fodder team scrambling for their volume controls and writhing on the ground in pain, but it definitely got their attention.

“Just thought you should know that these aliens are using nonlethal weapons. It was the same thing when I fought them a while back.”

This peaked that dude’s interest. He liked non-lethal.

“I’ve got a civilian over here. He got knocked out pretty good, but I doubt it would do the same to us. Our suits should absorb most of it,” Mulligan said.

Now the whole team with listening. Red and Blue team couldn’t hear him as they were only tied into Rauzchek. It kept chatter down, allowed them to talk amongst themselves, but the rest of fodder team was on their toes.

Mulligan gave the civilian a little pat on his stomach. “it’s going to be okay.” The civilian gave out a little gas with each pat. That’s not right, Mulligan thought to himself.

No name McDuff thought the “everything was going to be okay” comment was directed at him and it was all the confidence boost he needed to plunge around the corner and blast the alien menace in the chest.

Mulligan prodded the civilian a few more times, each prod providing either a fart or groan, except he wasn’t too sure it was a groan anymore. He was starting to lean more toward escaping gas of a corpse. El-flufferino lay sprawled out, hey shotgun blast laying waste to the alien, but not before the alien could get off a blast of his own. The blue orb splashing into the soldier, sending a blue bolt of electricity over his body before he fell back dead, his eyes melting in their sockets.

Mulligan looked down at the civilian before him. Now that he knew what to look for, you could definitely tell this guy was deceased. I mean, these black, empty eye sockets were at a dead giveaway.

“Hey man, ixnay on that nonlethal shit. I think I may have been wrong on that.”

There was silence over the airways.

“you copy that, dude?”

“Paulsons dead, man. The alien blasted him right in the chest,” replied Rauzchek, now kneeling over the fresh corpse of their comrade.

“Who’s Paulson?” responded Mulligan.

“It’s the man that just got shot,” Rauzchek answered.

“Holy fuck! That’s super cool of you to give him the name.”

“I didn’t give him a name. That’s his name.”

“Rights, Right. That’s going to make his headstone so much nicer. I can’t imagine the type of parents that wouldn’t give their son a name. That’s fucked up, man.”

“He has a name. His name is Robert Paulson.”

“A first name too? Dude, you’re fucking awesome.”

Rauzchek looked around for someone to confirm Mulligan’s idiocy, but saw no one. He let out a sigh.

“There’s still three of these fuckers out there. How about we take them out and save the girl? And try not to get killed.

“Roger Wilco captain,” Mulligan responded.

Rauzchek’s eye twitched as a sharp pain shot through his temple. So much was wrong with Morgan’s last statement that it gave him an instant migraine, which is why he didn’t see the blast that almost took his head off. Luckily, the bottom of the orb struck the hood of the car he was hiding behind, causing the bubble to collapse and splash across the hood. Small tendrils of electricity reached out and struck Rauzchek, waking him up better than any cup of coffee ever would.

“Head in the game guys,” the sarge said. “you’ve got two in front of you and Mulligan’s got one in front of him.”

“Okay,” answered Rauzchek. “Mulligan, you and I are going to move up and take out these goddamn testicle looking motherfuckers. Sarge, can you lay down some cover fire to keep them occupied? Just try not to aim for car doors in case there are civilians hiding inside.”

“No promises,” replied the sarge.

“You copy that Mulligan?” asked Rauzchek.

“Copy, Bwana,” replied Mulligan.

Rauzchek sighed. It was the best he could hope four out of the man. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Red and Blue team opened fire, effectively halting the aliens’ forward advance. The fully auto weapons were so inaccurate that it was easier to hit what they weren’t aiming at than what they were, and a few car doors reflected this. Rauzchek noticed, but also noticed that the guns were so under powered that they couldn’t penetrate the metal. Thanks, army it’s like you wanted us to die. At this point he was just hoping that he didn’t get hit himself.

Mulligan moved up until he was on the other side of the car from the alien. Unfortunately, that was the same side the female was on, who was now shouting at him to help her. He motioned for her to shut The fuck up, but she wasn’t having it. She was more than delighted to give his position away in order to get her demands heard. He could see it now. This one was the type that demanded to see the manager in every store she went into. He was going to have to kill her. Even if he managed to save her, he was still going to have to put a bullet in her head just on principle.

As Mulligan was looking over the screaming woman, an alien popped up on the other side of the car safely hidden behind the glass of the passenger side window. Its thumbs were pressed in its ears as it made moose horns with his hands and waved them at Mulligan while sticking out its tongue and blowing a raspberry, a strangely human gesture that Mulligan was surprised of the alien knew.

The alien and Mulligan stared at one another. Mulligan slowly raised his rifle as the woman pleaded for life. Mulligan pulled the trigger. Three rounds ruptured from his rifle. And in the time it took for the first bullet to pass through the driver side window and out the passenger side one you could almost see the synapses fire behind the aliens eyes that alerted him that he wasn’t hiding behind a magical force field that stops all attacks. But before that thought could be transformed into an expression, three bullets slammed into his face. The bullets ricocheted off the back of his skull and turn his brain into something that resembles Arkansas DNA.

The window shattering must have jarred the woman enough that she remembered how to open a car door, because in an instant she was on Mulligan, her arms enveloping him, and shaking him. Then there were the insults. He could’ve killed her, he was an idiot. The last one had hurt, hitting a little too close to home.

“Lady, you’ve been through a traumatic experience. You need to calm down.” With that one sentence, he managed to make things ten times worse. Now she was spitting out such a storm of insults and threats that Mulligan couldn’t make out most of what she was saying, and what he could make out made no sense. No, he didn’t know who she was or what a head of an HOA did. Then she demanded to speak with whoever was in charge.

“Hey, Rauzchek! I’ve got a lady that wants to speak with you.”

“a little busy here,” Rauzchek said, pinned behind a vehicle.

“she’s kind of demanding to speak with someone in charge.”

Rauzchek, at his wits end out of ideas, said, “you know what? Fuck it. Send her over.”

“Okay, Banana. Will do.”

“On second thought, send her back to the Sarge. Let him deal with her. I could use your help taking these last two fuckers down.”

“On it, Banana.”

“Stop calling me banana!”

“Okay, parfait.”

There was a moment of silence as Rauzchek excepted his fate. “Banana will be fine.” He tried to peer around the vehicle, but another blast of alien fire drove him back. “Hey, Sarge. You have eyes on back there?”

“Kinda. They’re pretty hunkered down. Looks like you got one a couple cars to your north and the other one east of him.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Okay, Mulligan. Think you can move up and flank them from the side while I keep them busy?”

“Copy that.”

Rauzchek waited, but there was nothing that followed. No banana, no pudding, no…

“Parfait.”

God fucking dammit! Rauzchek blindly fired over his vehicle at the aliens. He was still trying to keep his shots to a limited range of area, but the time for caution was over. Now it was time to end it. Through his comm he could hear Mulligan singing.

“Keep the channel clear, Mulligan.”

But he didn’t. He just kept singing and prancing around the park cars like Fred Astaire.

“Would you like to swing on a car,”

“carry honey bees home in a jar,”

“and be butter off than you are,”

“or would you rather be a dish?”

Now he was on top of the cars, dancing and singing. This caught the attention of the aliens, even though Mulligan wasn’t in their direct line of sight. And then he was on a delivery truck doing what Rauzchek could only perceive as a tap dance routine, which involved using his rifle as a cane. The aliens took this opportunity to fire off a couple quick shots at him, but Mulligan evaded them as if it was part of the routine.

“And all the monkeys aren’t turned into glue,

“Every day you’ll eat quite a few,”

“So you’ll see it’s all how much you chew,”

“You could be butter then you are,”

“You could be drinking in a bar.”

Mulligan finished with a flourish, tipping an imaginary hat, and firing a few shots from his imaginary cane. They didn’t come close to hitting anyone, but they sure as shit made the aliens jump. Now that they were distracted, Rauzchek took the opportunity to advance. He dodged in and around a couple of vehicles until he came up behind one of the aliens. He opened fire. The alien fell before even realizing it was shot, but the gunfire brought the attention of the other alien, who turned his blaster towards Rauzchek and fired. Rauzchek dove to the ground for cover.

“Mulligan had since moved onto his next number and was singing,”

“three, six, nine, the goose drank lime,”

“the monk chewed tobacco on the street clothesline,”

“the line broke in the monk got choked”

“and they all went to Devan’s on a little tugboat.”

Rauzchek, realizing he was on his own, scurried to get a better location. For the briefest of seconds he saw the aliens feet skitter along the underside of the car and then with the sound of flexing plasteel and a funny little bounce they were gone. It was climbing on top of the car. He rolled over on his back and pointed his rifle toward the hood of the car where the sound was emanating. There was a ping and a high pitched whir, which he immediately recognized as the sound of something he had never heard before. His heart stop beating and time slowed to a crawl as he saw the short arm of the alien crest the horizon of the hood. In its hand a hefty ball with a flashing purple beacon. In a moment of clarity before his death, he realized the ball was most likely a grenade, but a small part of him wondered if maybe the arm and orb weren’t actually a sentient penis come to life.

WHACK.

Straight nailed the grenade with a piece of pipe, knocking it out of the intersection like a T-ball champion. The alien cried out as it dropped its blaster, grasping its arm below its now shattered hand. It looked from its hand to Straight, the cause of its pain. The pipe was already on its way back down, shattering the creature’s respirator and revealing a mouthful of teeth is that a British dentist would’ve cringed at. Do the British have dentists?

Dago patted Straight on the shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Dude, you had the perfect opportunity for a quip and you blew it.”

Straight pulled away from Dago and his hand. “Seriously? I just saved a goddamn man and you’re going to focus on me not saying a one-liner, Like in one of those stupid action movies?”

“You couldn’t think of anything, could you?”

“Not a goddamn thing. I knew I needed to say something, but I just drew a blank.”

Dago came in close to Straight, grasping him tightly on the shoulders. “It’s, okay.”

“Who the fuck are you guys?” Rauzchek asked, getting to his feet.

“Sergent Straight and Corporal Vertucci, and is that Mulligan over there?” Straight pointed to Mulligan, who was dancing with an invisible partner through the gaps in between cars.

“You know that crazy fucker?”

“Yeah, he was on our old team before he got transferred. How long has he been in la la land now?”

“I haven’t known him before today, and he’s seemed pretty fucking nutty buddy since I met him, but he only went whack-a-mole a few minutes ago.”

Straight nodded. “Dago, you want to take care of that?”

Dago gave the thumbs up. “On it,” he said, as he ran over to Mulligan.

Straight looked back at Rauzchek. “Learned a long time ago you never want to let him go for should schizo.”

In the distance, they could hear Dago yelling, “Meds! Mulligan, meds!”

They’ve looked over and Dago was pointing to his arm."Meds! Take your fucking meds, you goofy bastard."

Mulligan raised his own arm, not sure what he was supposed to do with it.

Straight waved them off. “He’ll be fine once he gets his meds in him. It might take him a day before he’s back to normal, but he’ll be fine.”

“Get over here!” Dago screamed, but Mulligan was running away, shaking his head. Dago tackled him.

“Please tell me he did not just tackle someone in a power armor suit?” Straight asked.

“Yeah, no. That happened,” said Rauzchek.

“Do you think Mulligan even knows he’s in an APE suit?”

“I don’t think he does,” Rauzchek replied.

“Give me your god damn arm you crazy piece of shit,” Dago cried.

“This is why it’s important to make sure he gets his meds on time,” Straight said.

“Fuck if we knew. I just met this bastard today” Rauzchek put up a hand to pause the conversation and then turned his head away. “Yes, it’s all clear up here. You can advance.”

There was a pause as Straight couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.

“They’re military. Apparently they know Mulligan here.

A car alarm went off, and they looked over to see Dago riding Mulligan like he was a bucking bronco. Mulligan was doing his best to fulfill the role by bucking and knocking them into cars.

“Holy shit, you guys are nuts,” said the Sarge, as he walked up to Rauzchek and Straight, “I’m going to start calling you Rauzchek’s nuts. You know what? Cancel that. I’m not a big fan of the double entendres. Let’s go with Rauzchek’s ball-sacks. Rauzchek groaned.

“What was that corporal? Do you not approve?”

“No. It’s not that, it’s just that,” he said, scrambling to cover his ass, what’s he was unable to come up with anything, so he relented. “Ball-sacks Will be fine. Much better than Rauzchek’s skull fuckers. Thank you sir.”

“Got it!” Dago screamed.

The Sarge looked over at Dago, then at Straight. “I hear you are military.”

Straight spoke up before Rauzchek could answer. “Sergeant Straight,” he said. “over there is Corporal Vertucci assisting Mulligan with a medical issue.”

The sergeant nodded before returning attention back to fader team, “So I see we have psycho tard and ball-sack, where’s bitch-tits?”

“Paulson, sir? Paulson took an alien blast to the chest. He didn’t make it.” Rauzchek pointed to where the down soldier was laying.

“Medic, check him out,” the Sarge said.

One of the soldiers in red went over to Paulson’s body.

“Where’s that lady at?” Rauzchek asked. One of the surgeons eyebrows raised. “Who?”

“That lady from the car who I sent back to you.”

“Oh, that bitch. She’s dead.” The sergeant caught the look of shock and horror on Rauzchek’s face. “I mean, we didn’t kill her or anything. It’s just that with all her bitching and complaining and asking to speak with my supervisor, I forgot to tell her that we were here to help evacuate her. She went off on her own. So, yeah. She gonna die.” The Sarge shrugged.

“Incoming,” cried out one of the soldiers in blue.

They looked up. An alien drop-ship was inbound.

“Fuck, take cover!”

They hunkered down behind vehicles, trying not to cluster together, each hoping the other would be the one to draw the fire. The ship circled around. It’s bay doors opened and a single alien stepped out onto the ramp. He adjusted his eyepatch before he spoke.

“I have come here to speak with the one you call Mulligan.”

Shots rang out and a small area before the alien face shimmered.

“We have shields. Did you really think I was just going to step out here in the open and trust you not to shoot me?”

“It was worth a shot.”

“Really? Was it really? You thought it was a good idea to piss off a ship with the ability to destroy all of you with one shot. I mean, you act as if I’m the only one on this ship. News flash, I’m not.” Bachula waited for a response. There was none. “Now that we’ve gotten your insolence out of the way, where is Mulligan?”

Mulligan raised his hand. “Molly– Mulli”. He rolled the word over in his mouth “M– U– L– L– “, then laughed.

Dago grabbed Mulligan’s arm and put it down, pretty sure that his mumblings hadn’t been heard by the alien.

“he’s not here.”

“I know he’s here. We put a tracker on him.

“Oh shit, Bitchola. Is that you?”

“Who said that?” Bachula demanded.

“I’m pretty sure it’s pronounced Bitch Hula-Hoop.”

“Oh, please Phucya, tell me that is all three of the retrogrades that I hear. Dago? Straight? If you are out there, rise and I will not harm you. I have a message for you. I was going to give it to your friend, Mulligan.”

Mulligan shot up at the waist and waved, “Hey Bitchola.”

Bachula gave an uncomfortable wave back, humoring the half-wit. “But I would much rather give it to you two.”

There were mumblings as they tried to decide what to do.

“Or I could just say screw it, kill all of you and call it a day.”

Straight, reluctantly stood up. Dago followed him, not at all happy with himself for doing so.

“Who are you,” asked Bachula, confused.

Straight raised a hand. “Straight.”

Dago raised his hand. “Dago.”

This cannot be. You look much squishier then I remember,” Bachula said.

Straight motioned toward his body. “Ya, we’re not wearing our power armor.”

“My intel tells me that you are on this planet for some are-an-are. Is this why you are not wearing your armor? It makes no never mind,” he scrambled to say before they could answer. “I’m getting off topic.”

“You gotta keep your eye on the prize,” Dago said.

Straight flipped him a quick bird. That son of a bitch was sure to get them killed.

“Oh man, this is going to feel so good. Better than I could have imagined.”

“What’s that, “Dago trying to get control of the conversation.

“I have hidden a bomb on this planet that is set to detonate in less than 24 hours and destroy this piece of excrement.”

Dago squinted, not sure if he had heard the alien correctly.“What piece of excrement? Why would we care about that?”

“This planet! I’m going to blow up this planet!”

“Oh.” Realization washed over Dago’s face.

“I did not get that,” said one of the red teams members.

“neither did eye,” said another member of red team, pointing to his eye.

Bachula pulled out his blaster and shot the man dead. “Puns are the comedic creations of uncreative people.”

Silence flooded the intersection as they were all too afraid to piss off the alien.

The alien sighed. There was no good way out of this. No segue he could use to carry him back into the conversation seamlessly. He was just going to have to power through. He tossed Straight a metal orb with a large round button and intricate seems. Straight almost dropped it, thinking it was some kind of giant bionic eye. By now everything was reminding him of eyes and all he wanted to do was lift Bachula’s eyepatch and peer into the black hole.

“That is your first clue,” Bachula said.

Straight rolled the ball over in his hands, inspecting it. “First clue? Like there’s going to be more clues?”

“Yes. You will have to follow the clues if you want to find the bomb and save the planet.

Straight hit the button on top of the orb. It split open and a shrill shriek filled the air. Straight slammed it shut as the others grabbed their ears to silence the pain. Everyone but Dago and Straight were wearing APE suits, so pushing on the sides of their helmets did virtually nothing.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Bachula said, covering his mouth. “I’m just really excited. Do it again.”

Straight look at him questioningly and Ben nodded enthusiastically.

“Go on, do it. I will be fine. I swear,” he said, with glee.

Straight looked back down at the orb in his hands and pushed the button again it open revealing a folded up piece of paper. Bachula let out a squee. Straight pulled out the piece of paper.

“What the fuck,” Dago asked.

Straight just kind of shrugged as he unfolded the piece of paper.

Bachula giggled. He was usually much more restrained than this. “You have no idea, do you? This whole planet will be destroyed and it will be due to your incompetence.” As Bachula said these words he backed into the ship, the bay door closing.

“Treasure hunts are stupid,” Dago yelled.

The bay door stopped and then opened back up. Straight slapped a palm to his forehead. The alien has been going to let them live. He was content with just giving them hey stupid clue and then flying away. It was probably going to kill them now.

“What is wrong with treasure hunts,” Bachula asked.

“It just reminds me when I went to my Mormon friends’ church group and they sent us on this scavenger hunt. We have a list of things we needed to collect, and we had to go door to door asking if anybody had anything on the list. It was all kinds of awkward and in the end you just realized they were training you to knock on doors. This reminds me of that,” Dago said.

“This is nothing like that,” Bachula said.

“Really?”

“Just follow the clues.”

“What if we just…”

The doors to the drop-ship were already closing. “Just follow the clues.” The bay door shut.

The soldiers stood there as the ship rose above the buildings and flew away.

“Are we really going to do this stupid treasure hunt?” Dago asked.

“Do you have a better idea?” Straight asked.

“I think we should head towards that.” Dago pointed toward a ship in the distance. There was a beam of light emanating from its underside to the planet’s surface “If you’re going to blow up a planet, you’ll probably have to drill a big fucking hole in it first.”

“Sure, that sounds like a reasonable idea, but what do you say that we look at the map again, just for shits and giggles?” Straight looked around for those that oppose, there were none. He inspected the map.

“I don’t know about you two, but we have our orders. If you two want to run off and save the planet like some god damn hippie lesbians, be my guest.” The Sarge said.

“Hey, I would like nothing more than to leave this planet behind me on the next shuttle, but don’t you think you might want to run this one up the pole?

“Already tried. Communications are down. So until I hear otherwise we stick to the original orders and evacuate planet.”

“Sounds good,” Straight said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck off this shit hole.”

“What! You’re just going to leave this planet to be destroyed?”

“You just called me a patchouly lesbian for even mentioning that.”

“I don’t give a shit what I called you. Someone still needs to do it, and it sure as shit isn’t going to be me.”

“I’m on vacation.” Straight cast a glance at Dago, who had Mulligan pinned to the ground.

“That’s an order.”

“We don’t have guns.”

“Take his.” The sarge pointed to Paulson’s body.

“We don’t have armor.”

“Take his.” He pointed again to Paulson’s body.

“You know I can’t. That’s not how it works.”

“Not my problem.”

“Fuck man, are you at least going to give me a couple men?”

“Fuck, no. These are mine men, get your own.”

“So, let me get this right. You want me and Dago to follow some treasure hunt to save the planet while wearing Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts and a gun?”

“I think you nailed it Sargent.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Really? You’re going to make us do this? Awesome,” Straight said, walking over and picking up Paulson’s gun. “I feel like I’m about to live out some B action film. Come on, Dago were out of here.”

Dago raised his head in response. “What?”

“Were leaving.”

“What about Mulligan?”

“He’s staying here.”

Dago shrugged and looked back at Mulligan. “you going to be okay?”

Mulligan looked back up at him.

“If I let you up, are you going to be cool?”

“Yeah, no. I’m cool. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Okay man,” Dago said, letting go of Mulligans arms.

Dago cautiously rose to his feet while Mulligan remained on the ground. Dago held out a hand, and Mulligan excepted it as he got to his own feet. Dago grabbed him and pulled him in for a quick embrace.

“You be safe out there, man,” Dago said.

“You too,” Mulligan replied, a tinge of worry in his voice.

Dago let go and walked toward Straight.

Mulligan gave a little wave. Straight waved back while motioning Dago on.

“They gave me a gun!” Mulligan shouted, taking his gun out and raising it above his head.

“That’s great, Mulligan,” Straight replied.

“It has real bullets and everything.”

“Awesome, man!”

Mulligan shot Rauzchek in the arm. “See!”

Rauzchek let out a cry of pain.

Everyone else looked on in shock.

“You fucking shot me, asshole.”

“Stop being a baby. You’re wearing armor.”

Rauzchek answered by crying out in agony and dropping to one knee.

“Oh, come on. Now you’re just over reacting,” Mulligan said.

With a snip Rauzchek’s arm fell off below the elbow.

Rauzchek went silent and then white with disbelief.

Instead of wondering if Rauzchek’s arm had fallen off due to his actions Mulligan immediately shouted out, “Holy shit! Rauzchek’s a leper. Shoot him! Shoot him!”

No one paid any attention to Mulligan. They had all come to the realization that he was bat shit crazy and an idiot.

“That was the problem with the old Uno suits,” the sarge said, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. He wasn’t able to smoke it but he liked the effect. “You get one little hole in them and the lop off the offending appendage to the nearest joint. Everyone turned his way as he waved around his cigar. He didn’t dare hold it to his helmet. That would look stupid. “Now we have sealant foam and oobleck gel.”

“Why the fuck would they issue me something like this?” Rauzchek asked holding his stump.

“Why the fuck would you request something like that?” The sarge asked back.

“I didn’t know!” Rauzchek responded.

“Let me rephrase that. How in the hell were they supposed to know that you were an idiot?” He tapped his cigar to emphasize his point.

Rauzchek didn’t respond. He wasn’t an idiot, but in the military lack of knowledge was your own fault.

“Is he going to be okay,” asked Dago.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. The suit does a damn good job keeping its wearer battle effective. About the only damn thing it’s good at.”

“Well okay, you guys have fun with that,” Straight said turning his back to them, and motioning for Dago to follow. “Mulligan, you be careful, and don’t go chasing waterfalls again.

Mulligan hung his head. He wouldn’t, he had learned his lesson last time.

“Take ‘em with you,” the sarge said.

“Who, Mulligan?” Dago asked.

“And tweedle dumb over there. I have no use for the crappy bunch. Besides, I’ve still got blue team.”

Blue team started to protest but Straight didn’t give a shit.

“Okay guys, you heard the man you’re with me. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Rauzchek held out his arm. “what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

The Sarge shrugged. “Get it on some ice?”

“Fucking awesome,” Rauzchek said reaching down to pick up his rifle with his other arm.

“Umm,” Dago said.

Rauzchek couldn’t grab the damn rifle. Where was it?

Dago cleared his throat and repeated, “Umm.”

If he had better words, he would have used them, but right now he was at a loss for them.

Rauzchek looked over at him.

Dago pointed at him moving his finger wildly unsure how to signal what he was about to say. “You’re going to want to use your other arm.

Rauzchek felt a mix of both embarrassment and bereavement upon realizing he had been trying to pick up his gun with his phantom limb. After a moment of acceptance he tucked his severed arm under his stump and picked up his rifle. It was awkward. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to hold it let alone use it.

Dago grabbed it from his hand. “It might be best if you just stick to your pistol.

Rauzchek let out a sigh as his shoulders slumped and he relinquished the weapon.