Adventure in Amsterdam

[Scene: Night. Amsterdam's red light district. A lone X-COM Lieutenant wanders the near empty streets looking for his squad, which was supposed to be clearing the area of any alien presence.]

Lieutenant [into radio]: Johnson! Baker! Where the hell are you guys? Report!

Radio: <static> Over here, Lt!

Lt: Over where?

Radio: Over here!

Lt: Where is here, goddammit?

Radio: Wherever you are, man! <giggle>

Lt: Goddamit! I'm tired of this bullshit! What's your 10-20?

Radio: <sounds of a scuffle, and then the radio being dropped> Hey, it's my turn, dude! Give me the radio! Hey, Lt! Hey man, like, it's not 10:20, man, it's like, um... 3 o'clock, or something.

Lt [infuriated]: No! What is your location? Where are you at?

Radio: Um... we're under, like, um... this big white, round... thing. <Dude! That's the moon!> No it's not! <Yeah, man! It is!> It is? Wow, man. Yeah, so um... we're under the moon... where are you at?

[Speechless with anger, the Lt. is ready to launch into a tirade over the radio, when he notices a beer bottle come sailing out of a upstairs balcony in front of him, breaking against a wall across the street. It is followed by various unintelligible hoots and laughter, and several more bottles. He checks it out. Climbing the fire escape on the side of the building, he scrambles across from the landing to the balcony. He is nearly hit by several more bottles. Stepping through the door, leading the way with his rifle, he enters a small, dimly lit room, strewn with seedy furniture and large cushions. The room is heavy with marijuana smoke, and Jefferson Airplane is playing on a stereo somewhere.

Five members of his squad are here, in various states of inebriation. Incredibly, interspersed among them, seemingly at ease and sharing their joints, are seven of the very sectoids they were supposed to be hunting!

Sergeants Johnson and Baker are stretched out on a low couch against the far wall, along with three sectoids, one of whom is laying upside down, staring in a drugged stupor at a painting of the moon hung on the wall above them. Squaddie Toshida sits cross-legged near the center of the room, with two more sectoids sitting in front of him. All three of them are very carefully rolling some more joints. In a far corner, Sergeant Jonlan is locked in the throws of passion with the new kid, Rookie Green, much to the delight of two sectoids, who sit watching happily, chattering and pointing.

The Lt.'s mouth works up and down a few times, while his brain tries to figure out what it want's his mouth to say. He's afraid that he might have already inhaled too much of the noxious smoke, and quickly puts on his gas mask.]

Johnson: Hey! Lt.! You made it!

Baker: Aw, man! You just missed it! Azzafre... Azzifart... wassyourname, dude?

Sectoid: Azifxtelkjf.

Baker: Oh yeah! Azifrxerwhatever had a goat up here! It was wild, man. Aw, you should have seen it!

Azifxtelkjf: Llkjfryt slkflskur, slkfjslk lkjfryt!

Baker: Ha ha! You got that one right, dude!

[The Lt.'s brain finally gets his mouth in gear, and drops the clutch.]: You know what he's saying?

Johnson: Yeah, man. Don't you?

[A cyberdisk whizzes past the balcony outside, quickly followed by a plasma hovertank. An explosion shakes the building.]

Lt. [slightly befuddled]: So, ahem, ah... where's Scott?

[Johnson and Baker look at each other for a moment, both too stoned to remember.]

Baker: Hey, umm... Toshida! Hey! Where's Scott?

[Toshida, distracted, fumbles his joint and spills marijuana all over the floor]

Toshida: Aww, man, now look what you made me do!

Sectoid: Ylskdjfls sdlkfjsy!

Toshida: Hey, look, it wasn't my fault! Umm... what?

Lt.: He asked you where Corporal Scott was at. Do you know?

Toshida: Oh, yeah! He's, uhh... hang on a second... [Toshida becomes disoriented for a moment and almost tips over. One of the sectoids props him up before he falls too far.] Ohh... um... okay! Yeah! He's in the cathouse down on the corner. I think.

Lt. [finally gets his wits together]: Great. Great! What are you guys tryin' to do to me, here? Huh? You're supposed to be killing these guys! Not getting stoned with them! Christ!

Johnson: Relax, boss! Here, sit down and take a few tokes. Here's a magazine for you to read. [He tosses a magazine at the Lt.]

Lt. [Squints at the magazine, unable to make out the pages.] :What the hell is that?

Azifxtelkjf: Slkjfoegs lkjf!

Lt.: What the hell did he just say?

Baker: It's porn rag, chief. A sectoid porn rag.

Lt.: What? What?! There's a war on, and you're sitting here reading alien pornography? You're gonna get us all killed!

Johnson: Calm down, boss! Look, no one wants to kill anybody, man. We just want to groove. Besides, you oughta check out the chick on page ten. Va-Va-Voom!

Sectoid: Jaslkfje Va-Va-Voom!

Johnson: Ha-ha! You got it, man!

[Just then, another sectoid enters from the door on the left. He assesses the situation quickly, and walks straight over to Azifxtelkjf. He is carrying a stun launcher.]

Sectoid Commander: Dlkjsuyrtvns slkfjsfnfs sfefvnfjk! Hsdfhnce sdlkfjeu!

Azifxtelkjf: Esdlkfjgs sdlfkjse sdflkjmcsa! Qsadlfkcw sadlfkwduas, slfkjwjc sdfwedsjs sdlkfwejs!

Sectoid Commandeer: Aldkfclwiej!

[The conversation goes back and forth for a few moments, finally ending when Azifxtelkjf offers his commander a joint. The Commander turns around in a huff and walks over to the Lt., boldly squaring himself right in front of the larger human.]

Sectoid Commander: Wsldkfjevs sdkjn sdkfjwern sdfseflkdfv!

Lt. [Uncomprehending, he looks to Baker]: What did he say?

Baker: Oh, man. He says this is all your fault.

Lt.: My fault? My fault?!

Baker: Yeah. He says that your guys are corrupting his soldiers. Hah! What a gas!

Sectoid Commander: Clskjdfs asdlfkj sdfkejj sdfkjjj.

Baker: He wants you to step out on the balcony so he can have a word with you.

[The Sectoid Commander walks to the balcony. The Lt. follows, shaking his head in confusion. An heated argument ensues. They shout back and forth, though neither can understand each other. At a critical point, the Lt. raises his rifle, but the sectoid is faster and shoots him with a stun bomb. The blast covers both of them, and they both fall to the deck, unconscious.]

Azifxtelkjf: Sdfl fsdfsjhl woerics!

Johnson: You're right. He is an asshole. I bet he'll feel better when he wakes up though!

[There are shouts of ectasy from the corner as the action reaches it's climax, accompinied by cheers from the very observant sectoids.]

Baker [sniffs the air, still charged from the stun bomb]: Dude! What's in that thing! Wow!

Azifxtelkjf: Msdlkfjasne sdlkfjn eoisdns sdcnsalei.

Johnson: What? You can smoke it? Dude! Go get it then!

[The music changes, the CD player switching over to the Door's "Break on Through"

Baker: Wooooooooo! Rock and roll!

Sectoid: Wooooooooo! Rfdk znf rkjl!

Baker: Ha-ha! Wooooooooo! Break on through, baby!

-JScott Wooo-oooooo!