Demoman Intervention, Part One

Scene opens with a shot of the exterior of the Shady Oaks Crisis Center. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and a light breeze cools everything with its touch. How lovely.

The peaceful tranquility of the setting is broken only by faint sobbing coming from inside. It seem sad; a nameless victim of some sort of trauma, probably reliving past horrors in an attempt to move on and regain control of his life.

Then the entrance explodes.

The Demoman comes running out, tears streaming from his eye. He is followed by the rest of his team = the Soldier, Scout, Heavy, Pyro, Medic, Sniper, Engineer, and Spy are all here with him. Despite appearances, this isn’t an attack. It’s an intervention.

The Demoman points his grenade launcher over his shoulder and lobs another round toward the entrance. The rest of the team dives out of the way, barely avoiding the blast.

Demoman: “Ah won’t go back in there! Yah tried ta fool me, yah herd of miscreants!”

Scout: “You got a problem, man! You need to get help!”

Pyro: “Mmph bmm hrrr! Whh ffffg!”

Demoman: “Ah don’t need yer help! Ah kin stop any time Ah want!”

Medic: “Eef you can stop anytime you vont, zen stop now.”

Stinkin' alcoholic.

*panicking, Demoman pulls out his jug of whiskey and begins backing away*

Demoman: “But Ah haven’t had mah mid-mornin’ pick-me-up yet!”

Soldier: “You’re weak, maggot! Sun Tzu once said that if-”

Spy: “I highly doubt that he would approve of your quoting him, sir.”

Medic: “Indeed. I don’t think zees is zee appropriate time.”

*Soldier glares at Spy, then Doctor*

Soldier: “Buncha sissies! I don’t know why I joined this team!”

*Soldier storms off, muttering to himself about having to conquer a hill somewhere*

Engineer: “My cousin Willy used to be an alcoholic, but he’s better now. Maybe you can get better the same way he did!”

*Demoman eyes him warily*

Demoman: “An’ jus’ how did Willy do it? Not in some sort of… facility, I’ll wager?”

Engineer: “Nope! See, what I did was build this little contraption that was attached to his neck and gave him a little jolt of electricity whenever he tried to-”

Medic: “Perhaps vee should pursue a different form of treatment, my good man.”

Demoman: “Don’t ya see? Ah want tah quit the rotgut, really Ah do! But if Ah did that, Ah wouldn’t be a proper demoman anymore, would I?”

*brief pause*

Scout: “Sorry buddy, I’m not tracking. Wanna spell that one out for me?”

Demoman: “Ah know mah craft. Ta be a true, died-in-the-wool demolitions expert, yah got ta know how everything works together, otherwise kablooey!  Off comes yah pinky finger! Yah need to know about timers, and the proper packing, and blast radius, and how to calculate what precise angle and power should be used to hit the enemy with a grenade. Most of all, yah cannah blow anything up without bein’ good an’ proper sauced. Mah pa taught me that.”

*Longer, awkward pause*

Scout: “Isn’t that how you lost your eye?”

END SCENE

This was Part One of a series of indeterminate length. Look for Part Two to drop next week; after that, there may or may not be a Part Three. That all kinda depends on complicated factors… like whether or not I write one.