Tex-Pistol

ir-anuk  asked:

"Give me a hand." Tex & Sarge

It’s been a bad day.

Item one: Grif continues, against all reasonable expectation, to be alive and breathing. The fact that this item has topped Sarge’s list every day for years makes it no less disappointing.

Item two: In the wake of Red Team’s latest and greatest staff meeting, Simmons is sulking. While this is also par for the course, Sarge figures he could probably do without the loud sighs and muttered diatribes about optimal efficiency. And speaking of optimal efficiency…

Item three: Lopez has a bug. It’s clearly the opening volley in an act of mechanical warfare on the part of the Blues, but he hasn’t managed to work out exactly how they’ve managed to enact their dastardly plan. Lopez seems completely at the mercy of what Sarge has dubbed the Raised Middle Finger Protocol. Revenge will be sure and swift. Poor old Lopez.

Item four: Donut has been absent from his post for nearly three hours. Sarge is prepared to rally a thoroughly violent rescue mission once they reach Red Team’s agreed-upon Official Suspicious Absence Time of five hours and fifteen minutes, which was determined after one too many incidents that involved chasing after absent team members who turned out to be absent for perfectly innocuous reasons. No sense overusing that joke.

Until then, though, he’s going to be working on the jeep, and few things distract him from a bad day like engine grease, woefully inadequate tools, and the prospect of violence before lunch. He’s started humming a new jingle all about Grif’s sudden and untimely demise when he becomes aware of a figure standing behind him. 

“Donut! Where were you all this–” He turns around. Stops dead.

“This was a terrible idea,” says Tex, and yanks his shotgun out of his hands the second he brings it to bear. “C’mere,” she says. “Give me a hand.”

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