“Where do they keep all these guys?” Geral Gunderson asked the Lieutenant.
The Lieutenant pointed to the blueprints of the building. “Most likely in the basement next to the blow up sex-dolls.” He smiled.
“How will they manage? I mean, to be fair they don’t have much time left.” Anri Whistlers remarked.
“Come on Anri! Don’t get cynical on us now.” David Mercy yelled. He slammed the table shaking the plans, followed by jerking his head back in frustration. “If you want to stand over there and spout your nihilist shit about none of this mattering, then sit this mission out. Go touch yourself on your cot if all you desire is self-gratification.”
“Mercy! Stand down.” The Lt. shouted.
“Oh, sounds great. If you’re so desperate, you can join me. I’ll twist your balls off and talk about the void.” Anri smirked.
“Whistlers! Not another word.” The Lt. tried to regain order.
“You can touch…” Geral piped in.
“Gunderson.” The Lt. said softly. His eyes like that of a tiger’s, ready to sink its fangs into the next thing that moved.
“…touch his dick!” Corporal Jonny “Fingers” Bruges shouted from the dark corner of the room.
“God damn it Fingers!” Lt. Shouted, feeling his voice starting to grind his vocal chords uncomfortably. He also had no memory of Fingers participating in the briefing.
“Come on! Anri wouldn’t touch his dick if she had polio and it was the cure.” Martel Chia sounded off next to Fingers.
“What is happening, now Martel?” The Lt. thought to himself. “Chia! You shut your ass up.”
Another voice rose from the doorway. “Yeah right. Chia wouldn’t stop talking if it meant his life.” Dennis Gale said, lighting a thin white cigarette between his lips.
“Gale?” The Lt. looked on, confused. “You aren’t even crewed for this area?”
“I heard someone was giving it to Franklin, so I came as fast as I could.” He chuckled.
“Franklin? Derrick Franklin? We haven’t even received him from HQ yet?” The Lt. questioned.
“Private Second Class, Derrick H. Franklin reporting sir!” The private saluted in the hallway.
“What?” The Lt. exclaimed.
“Ha! Franklin you Tom Hanks looking mother fucker! Get over here.” Gale extended his hand for a shake and embrace.
The Lt. was reeling. He couldn’t get a handle on what was happening around him. His eyes darted around the room. Shaking his head, he regained control.
“No, no, no. This doesn’t make sense. This Op was for four individuals including myself. Gunderson, Whistlers and Mercy. But there is like… six of us here.”
“Make that seven chief!” A voice echoed out. A large woman stepped into view.
“Well as I live and breathe.” David Mercy said.
“Sargent. Sandra ‘Biggie’ Shultz.” Martel Chia joined in.
“Reporting Sir!” She saluted.
The Lieutenant’s jaw gaped open.
“You crazy bitch.” Anri Whistlers laughed. She walked towards Biggie’s towering stature, playfully punching her large right arm. “I thought you were blown into eight different pieces after our run through ‘Silver Market.'”
“Ha, and miss out on hazing Pvt. Franklin, as if girl.” Biggie smiled.
“No wait!” The Lt. shouted. “You were dead. I saw you.” He pointed skeptically.
“I know right? I though she was dead too!” Mercy laughed.
“No! She was literally dead.” The Lt. erratically waved his arms. “I buried her decapitated head, along with what ever remains we could find. None of this makes any sense. She should be dead.”
“I know its like a dream Lt.!” Gunderson said.
The Lt. slapped his face. “This isn’t happening.”
The folks gathered around her while she smiled. Admiring her leadership and giving only their highest respects. She blushed and a single tear crossed her cheek.
“Don’t get all soft on me now!” Biggie cried. “Sir.” She approached the bewildered Lt. “I brought someone else.”
“You’re old trench buddy.” A figure stepped into the hallway. “Conan the Barbarian.”
“What the fuck.” The Lt. cried, grabbing his hair in a mania.
“Teddy!” The thick Austrian accent laden voice yelled. He jogged into the room grabbing the Lt.’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “It’s been a while. Glad to see you’re still in shape. I wouldn’t want to have to carry your ass out of the shit again.” Conan laughed.
“What the fuck.” The Lt. whined.
“I know right?!” Conan smiled a toothy grin. “Now don’t let me steal your thunder. Thor will be doing that when we touchdown.”
“Oh shit, Thor is here too! That S.O.B. owes me a beer.” Martinez shouted, peeking out from behind the refrigerator.
“Martinez how long have you been here?” Conan asked.
“Oh a few hours. I was looking for ‘frootloops’ that may have missed the bowl and wound up under the fridge or something.”
“Makes sense.” Anri said. “But what doesn’t make sense is the fact that your douche bag brother bailed on me.”
“Oh Jake?” Biggie asked. Anri kicked her giant leg in frustration. “Yes Jake! Not only did that prick leave us stranded on the K-3 Island but he also stranded me at the alter.” She muttered.
The Lt. was watching these people interact and speak as though each word they spoke was summoning another random character he had some or absolutely no recollection of. It was complete insanity to him, but apparently to them, it was perfectly rational. He felt his grip on reality disappearing rapidly. The Lt. moved into the background rambling to himself.
“I’m having a stroke, that’s the only logical explanation.” He said, rubbing his forehead.
“I didn’t leave because I wanted to.” Jake Martinez appeared from behind the Lt. “I left because I had to. For you, for the squad…”
“Jake?” Anri quivered.
Jake brushed his thick dark hair back and reached out, placing his hand on Anri’s shoulder.
“And for the baby.” He sniffled.
“Or I’m dead and this is some sort of brain aneurysm.” The Lt. said.
“My baby.” Sandra “Biggie” Shultz replied. Touching Anri’s other shoulder.
Everyone gasped, except for the Lt. who was pacing back and forth.
“Sandra and I loved each other more than anything, but I also loved you more than anything.” Jake said, contradicting himself.
“No it can’t be.” Anri cried.
“I’m seriously going to try and shoot myself to see if I can get out of this.” The Lt. said.
“Yes Anri. This baby is yours too.” Biggie said.
“That night on the smooth rocks on K-3!” Anri cried out.
“Yes! Its a three way baby!” Jake revealed.
Audible gasps! Conan covered his mouth in shock. The Lt. lied down on the floor, shaking.
A man in a surgical mask and scrubs appeared, only to remove his attire immediately, uncovering his academic professor like garb. “Doctor James Randel, I did the work up. Its true… all of it.”
“Dr. Randel, how is this…” Gunderson asked.
“I’ll explain everything. You see the egg inside Anri was fertilized by Jake, but the egg inside Sandra was also fertilized by Jake.”
“But wouldn’t that make them both pregnant?”
“You would be correct T-Bone.”
“Who the fuck is T-Bone!” The Lt. shouted from the floor.
A man in an undershirt, smoking a cigar with a large machine gun slung over his shoulder stood nonchalantly against the wall. “I’m T-Bone.” He said.
The Doctor continued. “However, in this case the fertilized egg from Anri is not inside her and the one inside Biggie contains the DNA of all three parties, and some of Jesus Christ mixed in for good measure. My verdict; it appears this baby has fell into a quantum entanglement!” The doctor adjusted his glasses and had his assistant Chongo pull out a white board. “Ah thank you Chongo. Now I’d like to remind you all my expertise is in psychology, but I’ve watched a lot of youtube videos on this subject.”
What followed was a masterful use of the time slot the Doctor allotted himself. He was able to explain that the fertilized egg inside Anri existed on two planes. One was inside of her and the other was inside of Biggie, growing in tandem with her own embryo. But after one night of hot lesbian sex between the fragile Anri Whistlers and the gorilla like Sandra Shultz, the fertilized egg inside Anri decided to break entanglement, and in utilizing a massive amount of energy, it merged with the Biggie embryo.
“We now sit at a crossroads in the development stage. The child growing inside of Sandra has the DNA of these three individuals and possible residual quantum energy of a nearby dark-star. It is possible a new Doctor Manhattan like character will be born or alternatively Sandra could consume to the child, becoming more powerful than anyone could ever fathom.”
“OK! That’s it! this is all nonsense.” The Lt. rose up, erupting into a fiery monologue. “I’ve had enough. I don’t care if this is real or not. I don’t care if this is all true or I’m dying and my head is tearing itself apart. I have a job to do!”
The room fell silent. They looked on as the Lieutenant rallied their attention.
“Now, there are prisoners in a large building. I was ordered to assemble my team and bring them to my CO. I don’t care if it’s snatch and grab or search and destroy or fucking scorched earth. I really don’t care anymore. If I can get one of those poor bastards alive to my CO then I can go home happy, watch Netflix and knit in peace. If more of you randoms want to keep crawling out of the woodwork, to talk about unrequited love, bad quips or quantum pseudo science bullshit. That’s fine by me. As long as you gear up and get your ass on that helicopter–sitting 200 yards from here–I don’t care if you’re fucking Peter Pan.” The Lt. slapped his face and grabbed his gear. “Now anyone here who wants to go fight, shut the fuck up and move. Anyone who wants to keep standing around and spawning nonsense… I’ll see you in hell.”
The Lt. left with his gear. Marching into the hallway. He turned and kicked the door open with his combat boot and left everyone’s sight.
There was a few moments of silence. Chongo sneezed. Then out of the silence a roaring voice came up.
“You heard the man, move out!” Conan shouted. Everyone rallied and cried with ferocity.
At the helicopter, the pilot was growing restless.
“So, who are we waiting for? I’ve got orders to go at 0500.” The helicopter pilot said.
“I seriously don’t know man.” The Lt. sighed. Then suddenly, his eyes met the troop. “Wait, here they come.”
A crowd of people left the briefing room and moved across the asphalt, all of them holding weapons, ready to fight. There was Gunderson, Mercy, the Quantum Girl Whistlers, Jonny “Fingers” Bruges, Quipping Gale, Rookie Franklin, Chia, the Martinez Brothers, Potential Superhuman Sargent. Sandra ‘Biggie’ Shultz, Conan ‘the Barbarian’, T-Bone, Dr. Randel and his assistant Chongo.
“Who the fuck are these guys?!” The pilot questioned.
Lt. looked onward as they strode magnificently. “My team.”
They loaded up. T-Bone, with his legs dangling off the edge of the helicopter cabin as it began to take off. His combat helmet read “Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.” He turned and shouted. “Where’s Thor?”
“He’s not coming!” Conan replied, leaning over, hanging onto a chord next to T-Bone. “Had his own party to get to.”
“Well if I make it out of this. Tell him, he owes me a beer.” T-Bone laughed, putting a stick of chewing gum in his mouth.
The helicopter rose into the air, loaded with all fourteen soldiers. It swam through the sky like a big metal whale. It traveled over the horizon, with the new sun breaking across the fields below.
Of the fourteen that went only three made it back. The operation was deemed a “Costly Victory” by the acting commander who oversaw everything, Captain Crunch.
Of the three, the Lieutenant Teddy Sanders, would return from the maw. He called it one of the greatest and most absurd operations in all his life. But that is a story for another time.