VIC: You ever have a song stuck in your head? Yeah, me too. Over 5000, to be exact. Agent Florida downloaded his entire music library to my hard drives before kickin' the aspirin-filled bucket. Dude was really big into Barenaked Ladies. But, for me, my heart goes out to the classics: hip-hop, tejano folk fusion, and... musical theater.

Title card and cut to Grif and Simmons standing on red base.

SIMMONS:
Hey?

GRIF:
Yeah?

SIMMONS:
You ever wonder why we're here?
GRIF:
It's one of life's mysteries, why are we standing here? Is there a plan? Is there a God?

SIMMONS (spoken):
What? No, I mean, why are we out here, singing?

SARGE:
To kill them dirty blues! Jazz hands!

SIMMONS: Oh, Sarge, we didn't see you there.

SARGE: Boys, I've got some news that's going to blow your minds! And those dirty blues into teeny tiny pieces!

GRIF: [sarcastically] I can hardly contain myself.

SARGE: We've just received a new shipment of weaponry from command, that fills my heart with some sort of new emotion I've never felt before. It makes me feel warm, and want to smile!

SIMMONS: Um, Sir, I think that's called happiness.

SARGE: It's disgusting.

GRIF: So what the hell is it?

Cut to them now in the field in front of red base.

SARGE: Ladies, allow me to introduce you to...The M41 surface-to-surface rocket medium anti-vehicle assault weapon. But I like to call it "The Spanker".
GRIF: "The Spanker"? Why the hell would you call it that?

SARGE: I'm glad you asked!

(Everyone sings from this point on.)

SARGE:
See these letters on the side here? They make S-P-N-K-R stand for Sayonara, See you later, Au revoir. See, the Blues they've had it comin', with their fancy Ghosts and Tanks, but with this gun, out battles won, cause it don't just kill, it spanks!

GRIF:
Sarge, that name sounds really stupid

SARGE:
What?

SIMMONS:
Yeah, it's really not that great

SARGE:
Simmons!

DONUT:
Oh, come on, I kind of like that one

SARGE:
This is not up for debate!
SIMMONS:
Well if we put our heads together, we can find the perfect name!

DONUT:
Oh, can I go first? My head's fit to burst!

GRIF:
Oh God, this is so lame

SARGE:
It's an RPG, a master key, and projectile wrecking ball, a big surprise, a little friend, old Betsy and the law. This lazy boy is my favourite toy, and I'll tell you, fellas, why! You lock, you load, it shoots, explodes, and you blow them Blues sky high!

GRIF:
Uh, no, those all suck

SARGE:
Well, what would you suggest, Grif?

GRIF:
Something cool, like the equalizer

SIMMONS:
The equalizer?

GRIF:
What, you got any better ideas?

DONUT:
I do!

SARGE, GRIF AND SIMMONS:
No one cares!

SIMMONS:
Now, based on the range of impact, I'd call it Simmons-blaster!

GRIF:
Why not Blue-Be-Gone, or Air Torpedo?

DONUT:
Or why not Ass Disaster?

SIMMONS:
Those names are total garbage!

GRIF:
Oh right, as if you'd know

SIMMONS:
How bout AT4, or Gjallarhorn?

LOPEZ:
Te odio, pendajos

SARGE, SIMMONS, GRIF AND DONUT:
It's a BFG, Blue's destiny, heat-seeking dead man's bomb. Where death begins, and their life ends, it's a handheld breath of God. Call her what you will, we got her set to kill, time to paint this canyon red!

SIMMONS:
Cause this-

SARGE:
Nuke tube!

DONUT:
Jack Hammer!

GRIF:
Compensator?

SARGE, SIMMONS, GRIF AND DONUT:
Gut slammer?

SIMMONS:
Pez dispensor!

DONUT:
Boom stick!

SARGE:
Chupa-thingy!

SIMMONS:
Huge prick!

SARGE, SIMMONS, GRIF AND DONUT:
Iron Churro Whatsa Buka, Heavy Metal Big Bazooka!

SARGE:
Means the no good Blues are dead, ha!

They return to talking for a while.

Grif: But I mean, why can't we just call it: "The Rocket Launcher"?

Sarge: Because nothing rhymes with "launcher".

Grif: Oh.

Cut to view from Church's sniper rifle.

Sarge: Now come on, we've got a whole crate full of these babies. It's time to devise our plan of attack!

Cut to a view of Church and Tucker on the cliff.

Church: Oh, that is just great.

Tucker: What is it?

Church: What is it? Didn't you just see the song and dance number?

Tucker: Uh, no, I can't see shit from up here.

Church: The Reds got a bunch of rocket launchers, and they're gonna attack Blue base.

Tucker: Ohoho, I've got an idea!

Church: You do?

Tucker: Yeah! How 'bout you let me use the god damn sniper rifle, so I don't always have to ask you to explain shit!

(Church, lets out a depressed sigh, then lapses into song as dramatic music begins)

CHURCH:
Another day I'm stuck here. Another day goes by. Another day I ask myself, "Why do I even try?". These shitheads all around me, they poke and prod and pry. Sometimes I wish that I'd just... die

TUCKER:
Oh, come on Church, your life's not that bad!

CABOOSE:
Yeah! Plus, you already died once!

CHURCH:
And who's fault was that, Caboose?

CABOOSE:
Tucker did it!

TUCKER:
Sheila did it!

SHEILA:
I would rather not get involved in this

CHURCH:
All of you, shut up! You want to know what my life's like? I'll tell you. My nine to five is filled with misery. My girlfriend's always such a bitch to me. I think my death count's pushing three. I just don't get how this is hard to see. And as I lie awake at night, I just want to die!

TUCKER:
Oh, please. You're overly dramatic

DOC:
You're clearly asymptomatic

SHEILA:
Your life is hardly that traumatic

CABOOSE:
But your girlfriend is half-aquatic

CHURCH:
Y'know, I think I've changed my mind. I wish you'd all die!

(Everyone begins to complain at the same time as Church yells for them all to shut up.)

CHURCH:
Living here's not going well! This canyon's my detention cell! I feel the need to scream and yell! I wish that you'd all ROT IN HELL! Fuck all of you, fuck every last one, and FUCK THIS FUCKING SONG!

Music fades. Red team approaches in the distance.

Tucker: Uh, hey, Church?

Church: (sighs) What?!

Tucker: The Reds are here.

Sarge: Attention Blue team! Prepare for your inevitable demise!

Church: (sighs) Yep. Okay.

Grif: Uh, stauncher. Uh...sponsor.

Simmons: Sponsor doesn't rhyme with launcher.

Grif: Dude, just roll with me on this, okay? I refuse to call these things-

Sarge: Men! Prepare to fire your "Name Pending Approval" devices.

Grif: Just call them fucking rocket launchers!

Tucker: Okay, Church, what's the plan here?

Church: At this point, I'm just thinking about letting them kill us all.

Sheila: You have got to be kidding.

Church: I'm really, truly not.

Sarge: Ready...Aim...

Sheila: Church!

Church: Okay. I've got it.

Tucker: What?

Church: I'm definitely gonna let them shoot us.

Sarge: Fire!

Each rocket launcher makes an anticlimactic click.

Donut: Uh, Sarge?

Sarge: Yes, Private Donut?

Donut: Do these rocket launchers feel a little light to you?

Sarge: ...Well I just assumed it was because I'm in peak physical condition.

Grif: Oh god. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Tucker: Holy shit. They don't have any ammo!

Church: God damn it.

Simmons: Why would command send us rocket launchers with no rockets?!

Grif: Who is running this army!?

Sarge: Alright men, initiate plan B: Let's bludgeon them to death!

Sheila: Bring it on, dead man!

Sarge: Heeyaw!!!

Donut: Wait, wait!

(Donut runs in-between Sarge and the Blues.)

Donut: Sarge, why go with plan B? When we can go with plan D?

Simmons: What the hell is that? Plan Donut?

Donut: Nope! The D stands for... Dance!

(Groove music begins playing, along with glittering rainbow lights. Everyone looks around while Donut dances.)

Grif: Uh, what is happening right now?

Church: I don't know, I just know that I hate it.

Sheila: Where is that music coming from?

Donut: Come on everybody; let's shake it out!

Doc: Well alright, a peaceful resolution.

Sheila: Set cannon to: Funk.

(As the groove music continues, Tucker gets up and starts dancing.)

Church: Tucker, what the hell are you doing?

Tucker: I can't help it, something's taking over!

Sheila: Oh yeah, move those treads!

(All around Church, everyone begins dancing by doing squats in unison.)

Donut: Everybody do-do the Chupacabra!

(Cut to a wide shot of everyone. They all turn to face the other way to the beat.)

Sheila: Boosting initiated.

(While Sheila now sings, everyone except Church dances. It's even animated.)

Church: What the fuck is happening right now?

(They all continue dancing and or singing, this time featuring a sick move where they squat and do a rotating pelvic thrust.)

Donut: Do-do-do-do-do-do-do the Chupa! Do-do-do-do-ah-ah do the Chupa!

(Cut to Donut talking to himself, without any groove music.)

Donut: Do the chup-do the chup-do the chup-do the-

Sarge: Donut? Donut!

Donut: Huh?

Cut to reveal that they're on Chorus, and the whole gang is there.

Grif: What the hell was that?

Donut: Uh, I was telling the story of Blood Gulch.

Tucker: What kind of messed up world do you live in?

Epsilon: I don't know, I think he captured me pretty well.

Simmons: Donut, none of that shit ever happened!

Donut: Well, maybe not in your version. I decided to spice things up! Add a little pizzazz. The original version was so boring: all we ever did was stand around and talk!

Doyle: (clears throat) Um, yes, so, did you actually have song and dance numbers, or...?

Donut: (sighs) Let's take it from the top!

All: NO!