Shorts.. too short to post as a fic, never fitted into a story.. so enjoy!
"Dang Lifeline.. here Ah thought you were a pacifist. Non-violent and such." Beach smirked under his facemask as he walked towards the transport trucks. The mop-up of the battlefield was done, the greenshirt unit had finished securing any prisoners and were beginning the clean-up of damaged vehicles.
Lifeline glared at the big Sergeant major, limping slightly. "I AM a pacifist."
Twisting his face in an attempt to not laugh at the outrage in his voice, Beach looked over at him. "Well, ya sure knocked those two Cobra Vipers out cold. Ya shouldn't hit folks if yer non-violent."
Lifeline stopped and glared at the Ranger. "I only 'hit' them because you picked me up and THREW me at them! That doesn't count!"
Beach shrugged. "Ah think yer gettin' off on a technicality there. Ah mean, yer body hit 'em.."
"It DOESN'T COUNT! You can't throw me at people! And.. and you just CAN'T! You used me as a projectile!" Lifeline's irate yelling made nearby Joes look over with interest.
Strutting slightly as he walked away to supervise the loading of a destroyed HISS tank, Beach gave a parting shot over his shoulder. "Well, Ah ran outa bullets and ya shouldn't be small enough fer me to pick up and toss. Not totally mah fault ya decided to attack the enemy that way."
"I AM NOT A PROJECTILE! IT DOESN'T COUNT! I'M A PACIFIST!" The medic's shouts made the onlookers laugh and he stomped away to find Duke to complain.
0 0 0 0 0
Clutch edged the Mauler tank a bit at a time up to the ramp. Beach waved him to the left slightly. "Six inches... turn it slow.." The driver tapped the controls a bit at a time to begin lining the treads up with the ramps to bring the heavy tank up onto the transport truck.
Dusty yelled from the far side. "Too far! Take it to the right!"
Beach yelled back. "We're on the danged edge here!"
Clutch set the brakes and climbed up to look for himself. "This truck is barely big enough for a Mauler to fit onto it. The treads will be right at the edges... this is crazy. You guys watch carefully, I don't want to explain to Duke how we dumped a tank off the side of the trailer. It's already going for a full refit and engine rehaul.. if it arrives with damage we'll all be in trouble." He dropped back down inside the turret and slipped it into gear to let it inch upwards slowly.
BeachHead and Dusty kept waving and yelling, getting the tank up to the back edge finally. Steeler up at the front of the trailer suddenly yelled for them to stop. "No no.. back it up.. Clutch! You have to line it up exactly straight or it's going to have the rear of the tracks hanging off on one side! Back it up and try again!"
Dusty groaned. "We already backed off twice! This is taking all morning!"
BeachHead snapped at them both. "Well if it takes all mornin' it takes all danged mornin'. Would ya rather be picking up a tank when it falls off?"
Everyone grumbled but Clutch backed down the ramps and lined up according to the shouted directions again. He slowly brought it forward, correcting over and over to be certain everything was perfectly straight. When it finally got up onto the bed of the flatbed trailer, he continued to edge forward an inch at a time, praying the entire way that he wasn't veering to either side.
Steeler finally yelled at him. "HOLD! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Clutch shut down the engines while the other three men climbed up to begin tying the tank down with chains. Steeler was puffing in relief. "I swear, I hate loading these things. It's more scary than driving them through a battlefield!"
Beach grunted as he tightened down the loading chain. "Damn right.. I hate driving these things. Veer all over the danged place."
Clutch climbed around the tank checking it's placement himself. "Yeah.. they are a damned pain."
They all looked up at a roar of a heavy engine. The noise grew louder and was coming from around the armored vehicle motorpool buildings. When the second Mauler came roaring around the corner, they all scrambled off the trailer and out of the direct path of destruction they were about to witness. Clutch waved his arms, hoping the crazy driver would see the trailer before they crashed into it.
Instead of stopping, the Mauler accelerated towards the truck, thunking into the dual ramps and bouncing the flatbed slightly as it crashed up onto the trailer to slam to a stop only five inches from the first parked Mauler. The engine cut out, making loud clicks as the transmission shut down and began to cool.
All four of the Joes stared at the tank sitting perfectly centered on the trailer, their eyes lifting up to the turret as it slung open and the slender driver climbed out to stand up and look down at them.
"Well? Tie this bastard down guys, it's almost time for lunch." CoverGirl hopped off the top onto the fender and slid down to start dragging the chains around to fasten them on.
Steeler shook his head. "She's the craziest driver I ever saw."
Dusty sighed and nodded. "Soooo sexy.. she can drive anything I got, anytime."
Beach turned a glare on the desert trooper. "Say whut?"
Dusty winced, trying to step away quickly without appearing to actually run. "Oh.. you know.. because she's got a safe driving record and wouldn't.. uhh.. crash.. my car.. or anything.. not that.. uhh.. please don't break my legs!"
The shout from at the back of the tank made Beach look over with a frown. "Hey Ranger man.. put him down and come help me put these chains in place. If you break Dusty, you'll have to run the desert training mission next week."
0 0 0 0
Duke and Flint sat going over the incoming potential greenshirt files. Flint had vetoed two trouble-makers despite their high scores in everything else. Duke had tossed out a remarkably competent combat soldier who had battlefield experience because he had a history of issues with woman troops. Once they had a list, Flint would take it to BeachHead and let the Ranger go over the group as well before they authorized any of them to be brought in.
Flint's head came up and he watched BeachHead coming through the messhall. "What's up with him?"
Duke turned to look. "What? He doesn't look mad." His gaze narrowed slightly. "In fact, he looks almost.. cheerful."
"Yeah.. it's creepy when he's happy looking. Usually means trouble." Flint waved the instructor over and watched him walking through the loose crowd easily. "Alright.. spill it. What's got you looking happy?"
"Whut? I can't look happy?" Beach smirked and looked over at Duke. His attitude just made both of the commanders uneasy. "Just so happens, I just got a nice big load of material in to build some new obstacles."
Duke's head tilted. "You can always order in lumber and ropes.. what's so special about it today?"
Beach gave a shrug, still smiling contentedly. "Yeah.. but I wanted some climbin' towers and a new higher net climb.. and a log crossin'... and every time I ordered telephone poles, something always happens. I just heard from the company, the truck should be here anytime. Gonna be some good new obstacles.. troops are gonna be wailin' about it once I get 'em built." His communicator gave a buzz and he plucked it out of a pocket to listen. "Hey... there's my truck at the front gate now.. gotta run." He trotted out, the grin on his face making everyone back away nervously.
Flint glared after his back. He turned to Duke. "I've been tossing out those requests for over six months."
Duke growled. "I know.. I'm gonna have to find out who the hell let him order telephone poles.. "
Flint got up with him, grabbing up the file folders. "Yeah.. we'll be fielding complaints from everyone including Doc for the next month. And you KNOW he's going to stand there and insist it's all for the good of the team and all that."
"Yeah yeah... I know. Spending all their free time doing heavy construction just makes the greenshirts SO happy."
The warrant officer snorted. "They'll still do it.. they'd build a entire city out of toothpicks if BeachHead ordered them to."
Duke groaned as they exited the messhall. "Please.. Flint! Don't give him any ideas!"
0 0 0 0 0
Flint hummed softly to himself, the tune stuck in his head from the musical he'd spent watching with LadyJaye was a pervasive one. He'd gotten lots of brownie points from sitting through the tedious evening without arguing about the plot holes in the silly movie though. He was passed by several of the greenshirts, all seemingly intent on going somewhere at a decent rate of speed. Stepping around Private Mouth, Flint barely noticed as he entered the recreation room.
"Warrant officer Flint?"
The voice sounded plaintive and Flint turned around looking for the speaker. The rec room was empty though and he frowned. "Who's there?"
"Private Williams sir..." The tone was even more miserable than before.
Flint twisted around, then stopped. His eyes flicked around. "I'm really not in the mood for hide and seek here... I've got better things to do."
A slight scuffing noise and Williams voice came again. "I'm right here... above you."
Flint paused before he tilted his head back to see a rather dejected looking greenshirt stuck to the ceiling. "What the hell are you doing up there?"
"Not much of anything sir..." A pause. "Please don't tell Sergeant major!"
Flint shook his head looking for a sturdy chair to climb on to reach the greenshirt. "How did you get up there? What's going on? Did the other greenshirts do this to you for tattling again?" He reached up to tug at one arm splayed across the ceiling. "Is this glue?"
"Well... it was a bet see... Ace said that the industrial glue wouldn't hold a grown person.. and so.." There was a yelp as Flint yanked the arm free. "Ow.. sorry sir. We won the bet though!"
Flint sighed. "Well.. you won the bet... but Ace won a bigger bet he had with Outback that he could make the greenshirts glue one of themselves to the ceiling. Won't you guys EVER learn not to take Ace up on anything?"
"Probably not sir. Sorry sir."
Flint shook his head. "I swear... you guys all just sit around thinking up ways to give Beach an aneurism.. don't you?"
"Not specifically sir."
0 0 0 0
Roadblock was the kitchen chef. No matter what anything said on paper.. everyone acknowledged this fact. So when he was in the kitchen and angry enough to be shouting, everyone with any sense ducked for cover.
"Why are these abominations in my kitchen? I'm asking you a question!" The huge gunner was standing over the 'head chef' making it patently clear that he was 'not happy'.
The chef was trying to stand his ground. He was new. "I only fill out the regular order sheets... it's standard.."
"There is no 'standard' about having these... these... " Roadblock shook one of the offending objects under the man's nose. "There FROZEN BISCUITS in my kitchen!"
"All the kitchens I've ever worked in use frozen biscuits.." The cook seemed much more hesitant now.
Roadblock's gaze narrowed more. "Well, you ain't worked in MY messhall. Biscuits are easy to make from scratch and we make it from scratch like a biscuit is SUPPOSED to be made. Understand!"
"Yes sir! But..." Now the cook glanced over at the cases. "What am I supposed to do with all these frozen biscuits?"
Roadblock waved a hand dismissively at them. "Give them to the greenshirts to shoot out of a cannon for all I care. Just get rid of them."
0 0 0 0
Flint was headed for the rifle range. It was quiet and deserted at the moment because no one was slated to be practicing. He needed to grab the inventory list for the targets so he could finish off the order he was making up.
Hearing a irritated tone, he paused outside of the door to the rifle range building. Listening intently he identified BeachHead's distinctive voice.
"Spread yer danged legs, woman."
CoverGirl answered him. "I don't have to! Are you sure about this? I don't want to get hurt."
Beach sounded exasperated with her. "This was all YOUR danged idea in the first place. And you're gonna get hurt if'n ya don't spread your danged legs!"
"Well I didn't know it would be so big!" Flint heard her puff a few times. "I just know this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't do it."
Beach's voice got louder. "Oh hell no, you got me out here on my day off! Now you're gonna do it and you're gonna do it right too. Bend over more." Flint twitched and put a hand on his forehead. Just when he thought the Ranger couldn't be more clueless with a potential girlfriend. "Spread those danged legs and bend it over."
She groaned and fussed again. "That position is crazy and it's never going to work without me getting hurt. I don't want to do this anymore."
"Well you're going to do it, it'll teach you not to bite off more than you can chew! And if you don't bend over, you're going to get kicked onto your danged ass!" Beach had begun to sound awfully smug but Flint was turning to leave the two to finish their squabble in private.
LadyJaye's voice stopped him cold. "Hey, when is it my turn?"
Beach's quip at her sounded entirely too amused. "You're get your turn, I got all afternoon."
Flint smacked the door open and barreled in, too angry to do more that prepare to beat the smugness out of BeachHead for good. "God dammit! That's enough! I'm going to kick... uhh... what's going on?"
CoverGirl struggled to heft the .50 cal M2 machine gun in her arms. "What? Beach promised he'd show us how to handle the big machine gun."
BeachHead snorted from where he was seated on a crate off to the side. "Nooo, Barbiedoll. Get it right. I'm out here to show you two that you are totally incapable of carrying and firing that M2 Browning. There's a reason only Roadblock carries one of those things. Neither one of you is big enough to handle it. Tell them Flint."
Flint felt his eye twitch. He turned and saw LadyJaye standing over to the far side out of the way. She put her hands on her hips to glare at both men. "There's nothing that women can't do that men can! Just because we don't have a penis is no reason we can't fire off big weapons! Unless you're going to tell me you have to use your dick to pull the trigger."
Flint's eye twitched again. "You're teaching them to use a Browning?"
Beach rolled his eyes. "No, I'm teaching them they can't use a Browning.. at least, not as a carry weapon." He nodded at Jaye. "And don't go puttin' no words in my mouth neither. I never said it was cause you're women.. it's cause you're too lightweight. Ain't like Breaker nor Alpine nor Ripcord could carry a M2 neither. They all got balls but they're too lightweight to be standin' up to the kick of a Browning." He looked over to Flint. "Tell 'em Flint. Hell, you couldn't carry one either."
Flint bristled. "Well... I could! It's just..."
Beach's head twisted slightly as he looked at the Warrant officer. "What? What'd you come burstin' in here for if'n it wasn't to tell them they ain't able to do this?"
Flint's eye gave a last twitch. He was doomed. "Uhh..."
0 0 0 0
Duke stormed along the corridor to the messhall. "Roadblock! Are you in here!"
Roadblock stepped to the front of the kitchen. "Yes Top? There some issue?"
"Issue? ISSUE?" Duke stopped and took a couple of deep breaths. "Did you or did you not give three cases of bread dough to BeachHead's greenshirts and tell them to fire it out of cannons?"
Roadblock froze. "Well... uhh..." He reached up run a hand over his scalp. "It was biscuit dough actually..."
Duke threw his hands up. "Oh OH! That makes it all okay then! Biscuit dough.. not bread dough! Those damned greenies shot that stuff out of TWO of the upper cannons.. both of which are down for the foreseeable future while BeachHead cleans them out of all the little bits of dough that are jammed through all the functioning pieces! Then to top it off.. they used an 'old car' behind the motorpool for a target!"
Roadblock thought that over. "Well.. that doesn't sound so bad.. if it was an old car.."
Duke stepped up closer. "It was CoverGirl's GTO."
Roadblock managed to actually go paler. "Oh."
"Yeah. 'Oh'. So YOU can go upstairs and help the greenies that aren't in the infirmary clean the stupid car up.. and THEN you'll be on punishment duty for the next month! And just so you know, CoverGirl is going to stand right there and yell at all of you the entire time until her car is cleaned to her satisfaction."
"Yes sir." Roadblock sighed but managed to catch the eye of his head cook and give him a warning look. "I'll head right up.. just give me a couple minutes to tell my cook here a few things..."
0 0 0 0
So this was all the little scenes that didn't fit into any stories but I felt would be fun to write out anyway. Hope you enjoyed and if any more silly scenes pop up, I'll add a new chapter.