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Tank paused, looking at the newly arrived pilot who looked to be this side of almost dead from exertion, before finally saying, "Uh...hi. You are...?"
How he managed a complete deadpan, even confused expression, would be a mystery for the ages, but it was impossible for him to resist teasing someone, and a breathless, winded even, pilot was perfect for it.
~§~
Tanker (tangk'er)n. 1. A dusty, crusty, grease-covered, dirty, sweaty, bright eyed, fuzzy faced, haircut-needing, beer-drinking, underrated, over-worked, underpaid, oversexed, little s%#* who can take a Tank and do more battlefield damage in ten minutes than a grunt squad can do all day.
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Fieryone only stared at Tank as he caught his breath, did he truly not remember him or was he playing a joke on him?
...considering this group, it was probably the Latter. "Oh, you know who I am, but still it's been forever mate."
Powered up, Blasters ready, lets do this!
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The red-head rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmm...perhaps...something about being bait for trout? No, target for trout...no maybe it was..." He continued, laying it on thicker as he went.
~§~
Tanker (tangk'er)n. 1. A dusty, crusty, grease-covered, dirty, sweaty, bright eyed, fuzzy faced, haircut-needing, beer-drinking, underrated, over-worked, underpaid, oversexed, little s%#* who can take a Tank and do more battlefield damage in ten minutes than a grunt squad can do all day.
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While resting in his bunk, Man53 senses Snoopy's dissatisfaction about the trout and snickers, waiting for his moment of triumph to arrive... He mumbles to himself, "Maybe I shouldn't have made MY prank in the last place Tank would ever set foot... Literally >  , and well I suppose, figuratively as well.  My "welcome home" package may be left untouched forever, that office only gets frequented by us trying to prank Tank these days anyway.
Willing himself out of bed, Man53 gently glides over the floor throwing his cloak over his shoulders and walking through the door into the long corridor. Briskly he moves towards the hangar bay, hoping to show tank his new saber that he just finished crafting... "It's been a long time since we've had a duel in the hangar bay boys!"
Do not under estimate the power of the dark side!
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Tank, dropping his good natured teasing, shakes a few hands as he starts to move towards the exit. "It's good to see you all and thank you for welcoming me back, but before anyone else shows up, lemme get to my office and check a few things."
It wasn't a long walk, thankfully. However, it appears the several months long absence took its toll...as the massive number of bangs, clangs, and various other sounds could be heard as the myriad of pranks went off. All at once.
All that could be heard of Tank was a single, "OH GOD MY DELICATE BODY MEATS!"
~§~
Tanker (tangk'er)n. 1. A dusty, crusty, grease-covered, dirty, sweaty, bright eyed, fuzzy faced, haircut-needing, beer-drinking, underrated, over-worked, underpaid, oversexed, little s%#* who can take a Tank and do more battlefield damage in ten minutes than a grunt squad can do all day.
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