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“Oh, just admit it, Lt.,” Soap was relentless in the common area today. “You’ve got absolutely no game.” Ghost just rolled his eyes from underneath his mask, nearly at the maximum dose of Soap, and continued to read mission reports. “I don’t know, MacTavish,” Alex interjected with a cocky grin, leaning against the wall, “I bet the lieutenant could get up to some freaky shit.” “If anyone secretly gets up to freaky shit,” Gaz added his two cents, “It’s the big fella.” He nodded towards Konig, who had been cleaning his weaponry and suddenly looked like he absolutely did not want to be here, spine going ramrod stiff. Price snorted, eyes not leaving his own paperwork as he sipped his coffee, “Don’t mind them. They’re obviously compensating.” “Compensating?!” Soap squawked in indignation. “I am perfectly capable, thank you very much.” “Nah, mate,” Gaz decided to be a double agent and go against his own teammate and tsked, “I’ve seen you try to flirt. It’s pretty sad.” “The way I see it,” Alex cut in before Soap could get Gaz in a chokehold, though there was a mischief in his eyes, “If you all can’t come to an agreement, then maybe we need a challenge.” Price barked loudly at Alex’s suggestion, immediately catching on but acting like it was the most bizarre idea that anyone had ever thought up. Ghost only sighed, rubbing his temple through his mask, “Tell me you’re not suggestin’ what I think you are.” Konig glanced around the room, unclear on what was transpiring, “...what is he suggesting?” “He’s suggesting a competition on who’s the best in bed,” Price shook his head in exhaustion. “If we were to really do what you’re suggesting we do, then who would even be the judge?” Gaz asked skeptically. But, their conversation was cut short with the sound of approaching footsteps, and the arrival of you into the common area. Without a word, all the men shared a look. Looks like they’d found their judge.
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