Simmons stood inside Blue Base, looking at the mess Caboose had made from his 'project'. South just kicks a piece of scrap next to her foot.

Simmons: What the hell is all this stuff?

Donut: (enters) Oh, there you are! Did you blow up the base yet?

Simmons: Look at this mess, Donut. It's like he wrecked the place.

Donut: Oh yeah, that's Caboose's project.

South: Plus, he's got the mind of a kindergartner, Simmons. What do you want from him?

Simmons: This is what he's been working on?

Donut: He's trying to rebuild a body for that blue buddy of his. ...eh, looks like a piece is missing though.

Simmons: For the dead guy. Gimme a break. No wonder no one ever wins this war. We're all doing stuff like building lame robots.

Simmons turns around to see Lopez standing behind him.

Simmons: Oh, hey... Lopez. Uh, I didn't mean you, I meant other... robots...

Lopez takes off.

South: Nice, Simmons. Reallll nice.

Donut: Yeah, that was kind of racist.

Simmons: (chases after Lopez) That's not true! I have all kinds of mechanical friends!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Back in the desert, an Elephant is parked near several temples outside of the mine field where the Reds and Caboose are.

Intercom Announcer: Just... just give me the microphone. (over the intercom) Do not, under any circumstances, move. You have entered an active mine field.

Caboose: Does thinking count as moving. Because if it does, I think I might've moved—up! I did again.

Grif: Shut up, Caboose!

Caboose: Well, I don't want to get exploded!

Slade: D, Rho, have you guys scanned the field?

Delta: (audio) The field spans around the entire area, Agent California.

Rho: (audio) Give us a few more minutes, we'll find a route out.

Sarge: How do we get outta here?

Intercom Announcer: We will guide you out.

Sarge: Great! Let us wait for you to come out here then!

Intercom Announcer: What? ...No, fuck that, listen! We're not coming out there, okay? Hang tight. We're gonna upload the schematics... we'll be right back. Don't. Move.

Sarge: Grif! What were you thinking driving us straight into a mine field?!

Grif: Me? You were in the passenger seat. That makes you the navigator!

Sarge: What are you talking about?

Grif: Everybody knows that. You're in charge of directions!

Sarge: No! The shotgun seat is reserved for the position of respect. And for people who carry shotguns. (holds up shotgun) See? (makes a clicking noise) Quid pro quo. Now Grif, here's the plan. You walk in front of us, very slowly.

Grif: No.

Slade: Shut up, Sarge.

Sarge: If you hear anything that sounds like a small metallic click, or feels like your legs are being blown off, just say, "Found one!"

Grif: No!

Caboose: Uh oh! I think I just thought about something again.

Sarge: Both of you, shut up! I need to think of a way out of this mess.

Grif: You mean the mess you navigated us into?

Sarge: How about I come over there and navigate my fist through your forehead?!

Grif: (glances around) Pft. Okay, bring it. Just stroll on over here across the mine field and beat me to death.

Sarge: Maybe I will.

Grif: Bring it!

Slade: Will the both of you knock it off?! And don't even TRY to move!

Intercom Announcer: Look, we can hear you talking. Listen to your, buddy! Do not move! Kay? Seriously!

Sarge: Grr.

Caboose: It's not my fault. I'm not moving. I'm not even thinking about moving.

Grif: Sarge, since we may not make it out of this, maybe there's a few things I should tell you. You know. Since you can't reach me.

Sarge: Grif...

Grif: Like the reason why I never listen to you. Or never follow your orders. And why I don't think anything you say is ever important.

Sarge angrily grumbles.

Grif: But I want you to understand, Sarge. It's not because I'm lazy. It's because I don't like you. Or respect you. In any way. I have no positive feeling for you.

Sarge reloads his shotgun.

Grif: Now I imagine it can be pretty hard to be an ineffective leader with no respect—

Sarge shoots his shotgun, but Grif is unharmed.

Grif: --who doesn't understand that his primary weapon has an effective range much shorter than most weapons, but I think since we're gonna die anyway, you deserve to know that.

Intercom Announcer: All right. I'm back. Ready? We're gonna guide you out of there.

Grif: (laughs nervously) You know I was kidding, right?

Slade: Way to dig your fucking grave, mate. And don't expect any help from me.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Back at Valhalla, Lopez is walking away from the Blue Base as Simmons catches up to him.

Simmons: Hey Lopez! Wait up! Hey man, I need some explosives.

Lopez doesn't reply.

Simmons: To blow up Blue Base? You know... did Sarge give you the key to the weapon locker?

Lopez: [Yes.]

Simmons: Okay. I need about 50 kilos of plastic explosives. Technically five should do it, but I really want to blow the fuck out of that thing. Can you go get it for me?

Lopez: [I will look into that.] (doesn't move)

Simmons: Uh... I need it right now?

Lopez: [Yes. I'll get right on it. Look at me go.]

Simmons: Hmm. You don't seem to be moving.

Lopez: [Yes.]

Simmons: This is about that robot comment, isn't it?

Lopez: [Maybe.]

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Intercom Announcer: Okay, gentlemen. Here's how we're going to do this. We'll guide the two guys in front out, and you three in the vehicles, just follow them.

Grif: Okay!

Slade: Right!

Caboose: Uh, I'm scared.

Intercom Announcer: All right. Start by taking two steps forward and then turn to your right.

Sarge: A step ain't exactly a standard measurement, buddy.

Kan: Not the time, Sarge.

Intercom Announcer: Just a step.

Sarge: Yeah, I get it! But what's a step? Like this? (takes two steps forward, then two back) Or this? (sprints forward right into a mine that explodes; Sarge jumps back, unharmed) Whoa!

Slade: SARGE!

Intercom Announcer: Just a step!

Sarge: (quickly) Okay, no problem, just a step!

Intercom Announcer: All right. Now, walk four steps to your right.

Sarge: You mean our right?

Intercom Announcer: Yes.

Caboose: Our-our right? Or your-our right?

Intercom Announcer: There is no "my-your right!"

Sarge: Is left north to you? Or is it... or, on the compass, which way?

Caboose: Uhh, what about—

Intercom Announcer: Just walk to your right!

Sarge and Caboose walk to the left, only to rush back seconds later.

Intercom Announcer: No!

A mine goes off.

Sarge/Caboose: Sorry!

Grif: You know what? I just can't take this anymore. Fuck it.

Grif drives off as Sarge and Caboose start running.

Intercom Announcer: Yeah, uh, fuck it, just run!

Slade: Hold tight, Kan! Rho, you better have that route!

Slade then drives off as hordes of explosions come out of nowhere.

Sarge: Son of a—

More explosions occur.