Three Mercenaries Walk Into a Storage Room

It took a while for the Demoman to interrupt the game between the Scout and the Engineer. They only agreed to stop after one final match. With a sigh, the Demoman allowed them. He took a step back. “One, two, three!” Within a few seconds, the Engineer held out his palm. He grinned. “Paper covers rock, boss!” Looking down at his fist, the Scout blinked. “Wait, wait. Something beats rock?” The Demoman rolled his eye. He wanted to leave the storage room already. “Get going!” After adjusting his goggles and forcing down his victory smile, the Engineer turned his attention to the Demoman. “Alrighty then.” He gestured with his gloved hand, urging the Demoman to speak. After pointing at the crates of Crit-a-cola, the spare sentry bot parts, and the crate of potassium chlorate and gunpowder, the Demoman explained his plan. He explained that he would be using the supplies they brought in to create a makeshift bomb. The bomb should be powerful enough to blow the iron door off its hinges. One worst-case scenario was that the iron door would stay intact. The other worst-case scenario was that they all end up dying from the explosion. Although, with the respawn system operating, that particular worst-case scenario was not horrible at all. Still, whenever possible, none of them would rather die. Death was reserved for battles and unfortunate mishaps with the Medic’s surgeries. Finished with his explanation, the Demoman looked back at his teammates, waiting for their responses. The Engineer rubbed his chin, thinking about the plan. Then, he patted a hand on the Demoman’s shoulder and nodded. “Heck yes!” Looking back at his crates of Crit-a-cola, the Scout tapped his foot, lost in thought. The Demoman understood the Scout’s attachment to his drinks, but he believed the lad was losing sense of his priorities. Did the Scout not want to leave this storage room? Then, the Scout shivered, rubbing his uninjured arm. He looked back at the Demoman before looking at his crates again. Walking towards the crates, he placed a hand on top of them. Gesturing at his injured shoulder and the crates, the Scout pointed his head at the Demoman. “Yo, a little help here?” With a nod, the Demoman stepped forward and took a crate of Crit-a-cola. One crate carried six cans. Six cans of Crit-a-cola should have enough sugar and traces of sulfur to cause a chemical reaction with the potassium chlorate and gunpowder. He placed the crate down in the middle of the room. The Engineer took this as a cue to collect his spare sentry bot parts from around the storage room. Soon, he amassed a pile that was as high as his knee. This pile was shoved beside the crate of Crit-a-cola. Then, the Demoman retrieved his crate of potassium chlorate and gunpowder from the bottom shelf. He added it with the other materials as well. “Ah, that’s the stuff!” The Demoman sat down, crossing his legs. The Scout and the Engineer copied his actions. They stared at the materials, frowning. It was as if they were wondering how the Demoman was supposed to create a bomb. With a chuckle, the Demoman rolled up his sleeves. He was the BLU team’s demolitions expert for a reason. First, he gathered the sentry bot parts. Without the ammunition and the Engineer’s wrench to activate them, they would be useless for battle. Thankfully, he was not preparing for battle. Picking up the part where the sentry bot carried the gun, he flipped it to its bottom. There was a hole, wide enough to attach the stand into it. Through the hole, he pulled out the wires and ejected the empty magazine. The Demoman noticed the Engineer looking away. It must have been difficult for him to watch one of his creations be dismantled in this manner. As much as he denied it, he knew the Engineer was attached to his creations. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He needed to continue making the bomb. Although, he made a promise to himself to later give a gift to the Engineer. The Engineer deserved that much. After ensuring the sentry bot part was now hollow, he set it down. Then, he dragged the crate containing the potassium chlorate and gunpowder to himself. Picking up a sentry bot stand from the pile, he used it as a lever to open the crate. Once the crate was opened, he separated the bags of gunpowder from the thick glass bottles of potassium chlorate powder. Whoever packed these two substances together was not following safety precautions. Shaking his head, he teared off the duct tape wrapped around the bags of gunpowder. He would have to write a complaint letter to the warehouse later. Afterwards, he dragged the crate of Crit-a-cola towards himself. Once he used the stand to remove the lid, he took out every can. He opened each of them, the cans hissing before fizzing out. Opening up a bag of gunpowder, he poured out an estimated tablespoon into each cola. He pushed these cans towards the Scout and the Engineer, telling them to swirl the liquids around. In the meanwhile, he would have to inspect the bomb’s casing. When they began swirling the liquids, the Demoman picked up the hollow part of the sentry bot again. This would be the bomb’s casing. Once it was filled with gunpowder-laced Crit-a-cola, he would only need to add two pinches of potassium chlorate. Then, when shaken, it would activate. At least, it should activate. Otherwise, the trio would have to wait for rescue instead. Within a minute, the Scout and the Engineer finished swirling the cans of Crit-a-Cola, the Demoman instructed them to pour in the liquids into the bottom hole of the bomb’s casing. Now came the most dangerous part of the process. Looking back at the Scout and the Engineer, he picked up the potassium chlorate and showed it before them. He wanted to give them a heads-up. “Pony up boys.” The Engineer adjusted his hardhat. The Scout waved a hand. “Yeah, I’m ready!” "If you're ready, I'm ready!" The Demoman stood up, carrying the bomb’s casing. Then, he gestured to the other side of the room. “Head left!” The two darted to the other side of the room. They crouched, facing the wall. If this bomb worked, they should be outside blast radius. The Demoman uncorked the bottle. He dumped the entire contents of the bottle into the bomb’s casing. Now, it was officially a bomb. Aiming at the iron door, he flung the bomb. “Yah!” Before the bomb collided with the door, he sprinted. He joined the Scout and the Engineer, crouching with them. He closed his eye. Placing his arms over his head, he faced the wall. His heart pounded. Adrenaline rushed through his body. Despite the situation, he laughed. This was the joy of being a demolitions expert. This was why he chose this career. The familiar sound of an explosion echoed throughout the storage room. Debris followed, clanging against the floor. Smaller pieces of shrapnel ricocheted off nearby shelves. Soon, silence settled over the room. It should be safe to look now. Opening his eye, the Demoman turned around. Did the plan work? The iron door now had a gaping hole at the bottom. It was wide enough to crawl through. Leaping to his feet, the Demoman spread out his arms with a whoop. “Freedom!” He bellowed out a laugh. Beside him, the Engineer whistled. “Now that is just dynamite!” Then, he stood up, observing the damage. The Scout pointed at the gaping hole and leapt up to his feet. “Yeah, boom! Dat’s right!” He proceeded to run in circles before crawling through the hole. Once he left the room, he whooped. Then, he stuck his head back through the hole, looking into the storage room. He gave a thumbs-up and a smile to the Demoman. “Way to go, pally!” Even after a few months working together, this was the first time the Scout called the Demoman by a nickname. He had a feeling the Scout may use it again in the future. He hated to admit it, but he may look forward to that. Giving a thumbs-up, the Demoman smiled back at the Scout. With a quick nod, the Scout was gone again. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. If the Demoman had to guess, the Scout sprinted to the infirmary, where the Medic should be arranging his belongings. Hopefully, the Medi Gun has arrived by now. The Engineer tipped his hardhat in the Demoman’s direction. “Thanks, mister!” He patted the Demoman’s shoulder again. “Nice job, pardner.” Returning the shoulder pat, the Demoman nodded. “We did it, mate!” With one last shoulder pat, the Engineer withdrew. He then crawled through the hole in the door and walked away. Knowing him, he would be checking on the Scout. The Demoman should leave as well, but he had a problem. He could not stop smiling. If anyone asked about the reason, he would blame the adrenaline. Which was true, but that was not the entire truth. Outside of battle, this was the most praise he received in his life. Perhaps it was sad and pathetic. Even now, he felt his eyes watering. He shook his head. He was not drunk enough for this. After allowing himself one final whoop of victory, he crawled through the hole and left the storage room. Walking down the hallway on his left, he kept smiling. He must have looked like a fool. When he was halfway down the hallway, he heard a deep voice yell, “How could this happen?” Ah. That must be the Heavy. He must have discovered the sorry state of the storage room’s door. Good. Let this incident be the precedent for all storage room doors to have handles. What an odd day. This was only the first day at the new base. “Oh, I need a drink!” The Demoman hoped the truck with his alcohol would arrive soon. After all, he had a gift to order and two revenge plans to execute. This day would be an excellent anecdote for a drinking session at the pub.