Narrator: A freshly desegregated Sergeant Schlock, accompanied by a recently reassembled Ensign Ennesby, move up on enemy positions.
Schlock: Do you know what I like most about these solo missions?
Schlock: I don't have to wait for somebody else to holler 'open fire.'
Narrator: Or 'cease fire.'
Narrator: Or 'Aaugh! Sergeant, collateral damage!' for that matter.
Ennesby: I outrank you. I could holler 'open fire.'
Schlock: If you get a chance, it'll only be because you saw the enemy first.
Narrator: Meanwhile, in the enemy-held fire control room. . .
Ob'enn Admiral: Lieutenant, I believe their Captain is stalling for time.
Ob'enn Lieutenant: I agree sir.
Ob'enn Admiral: No more negotiating. Fire at will.
Ob'enn Lieutenant: With pleasure, si. . .
SFX: BLAMBLAMBLAM THOOOM
Narrator: Meanwhile, just down the hall. . .
Kevyn: They've got mini-tanks on sentry duty. We're hosed.
Tagon: What was that noise?
Kevyn: Whatever it was, it's drown off the tanks. Let's go!
Kevyn: Back! Let's go back!
Tagon: Eep.
SFX: KRA-KOOOM
Kevyn: I, for one, am pleasantly surprised to still be alive.
Schlock: I'm glad I could be of service, sirs. The fire-control room is secure.
Tagon: Secure? Don't you mean gone?
Schlock: Couldn't be helped, Captain. They had tanks. I had to use breacher rounds.
Tagon: Full-auto, from the look of things.
Ennesby: You might say we came in loaded for bear.
Kevyn: No. You might say that. Don't pin your lame pun on me.