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No. 535
Title: Pornography Starring Your Mother (Chapter 1)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,163
Summery: Scout finds the truth about his “genetic ballpark”.
Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Star Wars Reference (Not a crossover)

Author’s Note: First of all, I want to thank the Anonymous that reposted the story for me after the domain move. It was really nice of you. But I got a now-conscious Lizzie to beta it for me and I wanted to post the new version. Especially when I realize that the title was misspelled. But still, thanks. Btw, is it possible to get the copy that Anonymous reposted for me removed? I don’t want to delete it and get into trouble. ~_~

But anyways, the important part. I was watching the “Meet the Spy” video when it was leaked, but my dad was watching ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ in the other room. When Spy threw the Scout’s Mom Porn on the table, I just heard “I am your father!” and Luke screaming. This sparked my creative brain juices into formulating what was to be a short parody piece. Ten pages later, I thought that I would make a whole multi-chapter story about this, each chapter has some iconic movie quote integrated somewhere because I love to have stipulation to my work. I got okay reviews about it, so I’m sticking with it. I’m sorry if the drama and comedy make this hard to read. Criticism is welcomed, but I do hope you enjoy it. Next chapter coming soon.

After making it past the blitz outside, the BLU Scout now sprinted around through the enemy base. Each twist and turn of the hallway didn’t hinder his speed; he just sprinted faster and used the walls to launch himself into the turns. Normally, he would be wearier of blind turns that could hide a sentry turret. But not today. Today, he was all alone in the enemy base.

Three nights ago, a midnight raid of the BLU base left behind a dead Medic and one floor of the base completely destroyed. Until the supply train arrived with a new one, the BLUs were left with no civilized means of medical attention for the next six days. Engineer figured that any plan of attack would be doomed to fail without one, so he proposed that the BLUs keep on the defensive.

This seemed like a perfect plan until Spy intercepted a phone call from the RED HQ detailing some plans for some prototype offensive sentries. A threat like this would have been too dangerous to rule out as a bluff.

After tinkering in his bunk for a few hours, Spy managed to send an imperceptible phone conversation to the REDs, claiming that the BLU HQ knew of their new blueprints and sent blueprints of a system to combat these new sentries. He figured that while the REDs came at them in full force to get the imaginary plans, Scout could run into the empty base and switch the blueprints with an obviously-flawed one to halt further tinkering.

While Scout advanced towards the other base, everyone else stayed behind to boost up the defenses. Spy would stay behind and man the computer, informing Scout of any trouble. The promise of an easy role in this plot caught Scout’s interest immediately, thus he accepted without second thought.

At sunrise, the RED forces suddenly flooded out towards the BLU base. As soon as the last Heavy ran into the base, Scout made his move. The only real opposition along the way came from the enemy Sniper, but BLU’s Sniper took care of him instantly. Scout then ran into the enemy base, enjoying his mad dash towards the intelligence room, the bag containing the fraud blueprints strapped to his back.

His eyes searched the various walls until he caught sight of one sign in particular: Intel Room. Just as he was about to walk inside, his headgear started to buzz. “Scout!” Spy’s voice, although silky and calm, held a hint of alarm. “Scout, ‘ide! Now!”

Scout rolled his eyes, just standing in the middle of the hallway, as his hand pushed his mic closer to his mouth. “Geez, Frenchie, chillax! I’m close to the desk, don’t worry.”

“Listen, you idiot! The alarm system says zat ze Red Spy is not ‘ere.”

“Not here?” Scout paused. He turned his head, noting for the first time how dark the RED base really was. “How do ya’ mean?”

A sigh, but Spy continued, “On the alarm, ‘is name ‘ad disappeared two minutes ago. At first, we figured zat ‘e must have slipped outside in order to better sap sentries, but no sentry ‘as gone down. Pyro is sweeping ze base, but I zink ‘e is ‘eading to your position.”

“Uh-huh…where does that leave me?”

“Zat, you annoying brat,” Spy continued, pausing to take a drag, “leaves you very vulnerable. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything, and get out of zere as quickly as possible. And I suggest you keep your gun loaded.”

“Might be a problem…didn’t bring my gun…”

“You what?!”

The screeching buzz that accompanied the last transmission caused Scout to wince. He stepped back, kneeling down in the shadows but kept the valued suitcase in his line of vision. His voice replied in a harsh whisper, “I didn’t want the ammo to slow me down! Fuck, man! You told me that I wouldn’t be fightin’, ya know! I brought my bat in case of an emergency, give me some damn credit!”

“Pardon me for not including your obvious retardation in zis equation! Just get ze intel and get out of zare! I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

Scout huffed, scowling at the imaginary Frenchmen at his side. “I’m no baby, ya frog-eating fag!”

“With no gun, yes you are. Hold.” Back in the control room, Spy pulled out the cord of his microphone out of the switchboard port to Scout’s headset and paused, looking at all of the names. He hummed for a second before pushing the plug into Soldier’s slot. “Soldier. Come in, Soldier.”

“Hold on a second, Daddy’s busy…get back here, you Nazi sonofabitch!” The switchboard picked up the repetitive sound of a standard-issue entrenchment shovel slicing and whacking, followed by squishing and a fading scream. Then a chuckle before Soldier replied, “This is Soldier, Control Room. Over.”

“Ze Red Spy ‘as gone missing from ze base and is possibly heading towards Scout’s position, over.”

“There’s a Spy on the loose? Hell, all spies are impossible to trust. Even our Spy does shit around the base that suspicious. Let me tell you something, he’s up to something! I bet he thinks that nobody sees him doing it, either! Back in WW2, we lose one Kraut and our brains would be the new wallpaper in Berlin! But I’d rather have Adolf-fucking-Hitler running around on my side than a Spy!”

Spy sighed, rubbing his temples. Soldier never was good at talking shit behind anyone’s back, but it was probably intentional, “Soldier, please rendezvous with Scout before ‘e gets ‘is ‘ead sliced open, over.”

“Roger, Wine-Guzzler! Soldier out!” Soldier whipped off the blood-stained head of his shovel before muttering, “Looks like we have a rescue mission on our hands, Beatrice!” Soldier picked up his rocket launcher and ran down the hallway.

Spy plugged the microphone into Scout’s port and asked, “Still alive, Scout?”

“What the hell do ya think, asshole?! And thanks for scaring the shit out of me earlier and then-THEN leaving me alone out here! No spies or anything in here! Just a bunch of maps and a blue suitcase placed on a desk with no fucking particular reason why it’s just out here in the open! But ya’, I’m still alive!” Scout slammed his knapsack onto the table and opened both it and the RED briefcase.

“God, I miss Medic. Unlike you chumps, he seemed to give a shit about me…” He angrily stuffed the fraud papers into the briefcase and the real ones into his bag. Once he found the blueprint for the new sentries, he stuffed it the waistband of his pants for safe keeping.

“Somehow, I ‘ighly doubt zat.” Spy sat in his chair, his feet rest on the lower part of the switchboard. “Oh yes, and Soldier is going to be intercepting you, by ze way. I would ‘urry up if I were you.”

Scout tried to close the briefcase, finding the job much more difficult than he first imagined. Hopping up, he quickly sat down on the lid before it snapped open. “Maybe he was fakin’ it, but he said he knew my Ol’ Man.” The case wouldn’t close still, so he bounced up and down before he heard it click. “Ol’ Man was a Soldier. They were stationed together for a year before a Spy got ‘em. Told me a lot of shit ‘bout him, too.”

Spy took another puff, “Zis is so veeery interesting. Maybe if you save your story for when you are tucking me in tonight, you can continue it before the RED Spy shows up and repeats ‘istory with you.”

“Whatever, I got the Intel. Cutting off now. Bye, faggot! Don’t let Sniper pound you too hard tonight.”

“Insolent bastard child-” Scout clicked his headset off.

He shook his head, smiling out of the side of his mouth. “They better appreciate my ass, they would be so lost without m-” A footstep in the hallway snapped Scout back into caution. It was too faint to be Soldier.

Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 536
His bat, which he set on the table next to his bag, was now in his bandaged hands. Tiptoeing, he made his way to the wall adjacent to the doorway. Breathing slowed down, grip tightening, head slowly peering out to the hallway. There wasn’t anything there, but Spies are a tricky bunch. With a “clear” hallway, Scout quickly slipped in, making sure his back wasn’t exposed at all. Now he slowly made his way down the hall, back scraping against the wall, eyes scanning for any glint of a dagger or puff of smoke.

A tap from the previous room grabbed his attention, causing his head to snap in that direction. The Spy’s in there, trying to lure him back in? Scout won’t fall for it. Seeing this as his opportunity to outrun the RED spy, he turned to make a break for it.

He only took two steps before he bumped into something. Something that was rather tall, silky, and breathing. “I wonder if you put up as much of a fight as your father did. I know the Medic didn’t.”

Scout’s eyes widened. He had to look up, he needed to. It was vital to him like oxygen. The balaclava hid the man’s identity well, but that snarky smile and the cocky flash of his eyes weren’t masked at all.

He did remember Medic saying that a RED Spy butchered his father all those years ago…but was it possible? Did this man kill dad? Something in the back of his mind answered for him, making his hands swing the bat toward the Spy’s head.

Sadly, rage wasn’t much a batter when it came to a Spy. The older man dodged the wood, quickly pulling out his knife and taking a jab at Scout. Scout’s reflex training paid off, as he was quick to dodge the oncoming blade. But when the blade swung back at him, he blocked the hand with his bat.

For almost a minute, this dance continued, each round let Spy advance and made Scout step back until they were in the center of the control room. Spy’s long leg swiftly found Scout’s stomach, a designer boot knocking the wind from his lungs and causing him to fall on his back. As Scout attempted to sit up, Spy’s pistol was pointed towards him, clicking as a gloved thumb cocked it.

“You are beaten. It is useless to resist.” His voice taunted the boy on the ground, but his mouth wasn’t curled in a smirk. “Do not let yourself be destroyed as ze Medic did-”

Scout quickly rolled on his side with the speed of an expert assassin before swinging the bat into the European’s shoulder. The older man screamed out, holding his shoulder before he regained his composure. His eyes glanced towards the boy, his headset slid down his neck and resting on his shoulders. Wild eyes locked on him and tired arm raising the bat, he grinned Spy to continue.

Spy nodded, quickly taking a jab at Scout as Scout dodged the blade. Scout’s other hand felt the cold metal of the railing between the Intel room and the two-story room below it. He was cornered. Great.

“Maaaagot! Where are you?!” That rumbling voice could only belong to one asshole Scout knew. Scout quickly looked down into the other room and low and behold: Soldier was walking through the doorframe.

The quick second was all Spy needed; he lunged forward and sliced a gaping gash into Scout’s bandaged wrist. Scout screamed out in pain, dropping his bat as he fell to the ground. Huddled against the railing, Scout squeezed his wrist underneath his armpit to protect it from further damage, blood staining his shirt with a deep brownish red. Turning his head to the side, he could see Soldier looking for the source of the scream through the various rows of machines.

The Spy stepped closer; a leather glove wrapped around the knife’s blade and wiped it clean of blood. “Edward, you do not yet realize your importance.” Scout turned his head, the profuse bleeding draining his face of color. His half-lidded eyes stared up at the Spy, who was now smiling warmly at him. His face turned a whiter shade of pale as Spy continued. “You ‘ave only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end zis destructive conflict and bring order to ze battlefield!”

Scout shook his head, eyes shut defiantly. He mumbled, “Better dead than RED…I’ll never join you!”

“If you only knew ze power of the Reliable Excavation Demolition Corporation!” The European shook his fist at the mention of power, his eyes watching carefully as Scout slithered between the railing beams and holding on for dear life on the other side. The large air vent near him blew his black hat off, revealing a patch of brunette hair that wasn’t shaved down like the sides of his head, stringy from hat hair. He watched his comrade look for him through is eyelashes. Spy tilted his head, acknowledging the fact that Scout was trying to ignore him. “Medic never told you what ‘appened to your father.”

Scout snapped back instantly, “He told me enough!” His voice cracked, half-sobbing at the pain. “He told me you killed ‘em!”

“No.” Spy paused, looking at Scout with a certain fondness. “I -am- your father.”

The longer strands of hair on Scout’s head tethered wildly as his eyes snapped wide open. He turned his face towards Spy, shaking his head in disbelief, “No. No…that’s not true. That’s IMPOSSIBLE!”

“Search your feelings! You -know- it to be true!”

Tears streamed from his eyes, “NOOOOOOOO! Noooooo!” He curled his face into his shoulder, smelling the stench of the blood soaked in his shirt.

“Edward…” Spy began to remove one of his gloves; the two exchanged the same intense glare at one another, with the same hazel-blue eyes. Scout’s mother always said he has his father’s eyes. “You can destroy ze Announcer. She ‘as foreseen zis. It is your destiny! Join me, and together we can rule RED Corp as father and son.”

Scout looked down and saw Soldier pick up the misplaced hat, turning his head towards the ceiling. He looked back up towards this man…this monster…his own father.

Spy was now pressed against the rail, a gloved hand holding on and the ungloved hand now reaching down to Scout. Scout never heard of a Spy without a glove. “Come with me…It is ze only way.”

Scout closed his eyes and let go of the railing.

Five seconds later, Scout landing gruffly into the arms of Soldier. “Maggot, you have ten seconds to explain to me-”

“Spy in the Intel Room! We have to get outta here! Come on!” Scout’s free hand smacked Soldier’s helmet as a gesture of distress. Soldier began to growl, square jaw going rigid as he began to run out the door.

Scout whimpered as they ran out one of the many exits around the base; not as safe as home base, but better than the RED lair. “What’s the matter with you, private?” Scout pulled his wrist from his armpit, showing the gash; the blood flowed past torn muscle and flesh, soaking his white bandages in deep crimson. “Suck it up, kid. I’ve gotten twenty times worse in my first hour of boot camp! And be thankful, wounds like these are a badge of honor for men!”

Scout sighed, placing his wrist back under his armpit and pursing his lips. In his head, Scout thought, “Soldier was defiantly a slow bastard, but it was better than being left behind with the RED Spy. Spies are all liars, they are trained to lie. It was probably some story he made up to fuck with my head. How could any of this be true?

A Scorpio! I was born October 10th, 1949. If I did this math shit right, she must have gotten knocked up in January! There’s hope! There’s-”

Scout sighed; tears flowed freely from his eyes as the reality of it all sank in. His dad died on Christmas of ’48. Well, that was when Ma got the phone call. It probably happened long before then.

According to the license his mother kept in a box on her night stand, he had brown eyes and had a big, burly frame naturally. Scout was a twig with bluish eyes. He was a bastard child.

“Life blows a lot.”

By the time they reached the base, the bleeding had almost stopped. Sadly, Soldier’s jacket and Scout’s shirt were both stained beyond salvage. Nobody was seriously injured after today’s romp, although the Demo Man sprained his ankle after falling through an unstable staircase. Although a couple sentries did fall, most of them were in a good enough condition to keep up as a defense system for a while.

Although the BLUs doubted that the other side would make another aggressive move, seeing as Soldier smashed their only Medic’s skull into pudding. BLU was fortunate to work on a bi-weekly supply delivery system; the REDs had to wait another three weeks or so for a new Medic. In all, everyone seemed to receive their well-deserved vacation.

All except for Scout. His mind raced itself in circles as he sat on his bunk, staring at his bandage. He was thankful that BLUs Spy had his fair share of knife cuts to know how to handle one. The stitching hurt tremendously, but it sounded a lot better than Soldier’s plan to amputate the entire arm with ‘Beatrice’. It was all over now, and it was time to rest up. He lost too much blood to stay awake; the team’s Heavy carried Scout to bed. “You sleep now, little man. Do not wake or else I crush legs! Night!”

Scout knew he meant well. That night he dreamed of baseball, but it was haunted by a man in a red suit cheering him on the sidelines. He woke up, sweating profusely, reaching for his lucky bat. The one he dropped in the enemy’s Intel room. “Shit.”
>> No. 537

A week after, Scout’s wrist was well enough to have the stitches taken out. This time, however, they finally had a new Medic to remove them. And much to Soldier’s disappointment, no amputation was needed.

Scout made his way to mess hall, picking up his bowl of oatmeal and at his the end of the table and slurping away happily. After so much bed rest, he figured the incident with the Red Spy was a crafty illusion. His arm was severely cut, and he lost almost a quart of blood. It was probably a case of wishful thinking, a deep desire to meet his father. It seemed so real…so vivid…

He tried to push it out of mind. He had more important things to think about. The HQ was talking about a temporary shore-leave for those who earned enough points. Since Scout lived for Intelligence collection, he had way too many points in his tally to spend. Maybe he could head back to Boston and see his ‘Ma’. He hadn’t seen her in the better part of two years, and there are so many things he wanted to ask her about his dad…

The Soldier popped in from outside the hallway as marched in, screaming “MAIL CALL!” Scout noted that is was mostly the usual stuff: a few letters, unpaid bills from civilian life, an armada of pornographic magazines wrapped up in parcel paper, and Pyro’s latest copy of ‘Home and ‘Gardening’. But the sizeable brown-paper package was something rather unexpected.

Giggling, Scout called out, “Yo, Spy! I bet that’s the new lingerie your ordered. Spicing up your creepy sex life with Sniper, huh?” Everyone chuckled a bit as Sniper glared and drank a sip his coffee, showing off the “#1 Sniper” logo on his cup.

“I doubt its mah new turret upgrade schematic. Ah just sent in the order form yesterday.” Engineer sipped some coffee before looking at Scout, “Did you order anything? Ah can’t think of anyone that did.”

Scout shrugged, “I just get tittie mags, but my ma sends me a letter once in a while. Unless they sent me a ‘Grow-Your-Own-Babe’ kit, it ain’t mine. Probably new Medic getting nerd shit like pocket-protectors and crap.”

Soldier stopped next to Scout. “Negative! The Medic picked up his mail early and retired to the medical quarters. SCOUT!” The gruff man proceeded to scream his name despite being right in front of him. “Issue, issue, issue, issue, issue,” he mumbled, dropping porn magazines over Scout’s breakfast. He pulled out a letter, “Letter, and parcel.”

He dropped the package in Scout’s lap; Scout learned that not only was it his package, but it was a rather heavy package. Grimacing, he grabbed his injured manhood with one hand, painfully giving a salute to the Soldier. In a Mickey Mouse voice, he replied, “Gee, thanks man.”

Giving a stern nod, Soldier heel turned and moved onto the next mail recipient. Engineer grabbed the package out of Scout’s lap to relive him of the weight. “Fucker should work for the postal office, I tell ya.” He rubbed his injured parts into working order. “God, I use these!”

“There’s no name on the package, boy. Maybe the letter says something.”

Scout picked up the letter, caressing the return address with his thumb, “My ma? But she only sends me money for my birthday.” He looked at the envelope again pensively.



Engineer looked down at his hands, “Ah never took you as an Edward. It’s so classical and…normal.”

Scout scowled, “And what’s your name, hot shot?”


“And what did you think my name was, Tim?”

“I don’t know, I never thought about it,” Engineer paused, “Vincent, Dean, Johnny. Things like that.”

“Yeah, my other brothers took those names long before I came along. I didn’t get first dibs. I would’ve liked to have liked to have a better street name, ya know?”

Engineer nodded. “Oh, the letter.”

“Oh yeah!” The young man’s fingers tore open one side of the envelope and a piece of plain paper fell out. Unfolding the paper, the smell of juniper blossoms filled the air. Scout’s mom loved junipers, and she had them all over the tiny two-bedroom house in South Boston. Scout smiled, looking down and reading the letter.

Dear Eddie,

I am so glad to hear your exploits have made your time in the army worth while. Although I worry about you every time I think of you and I would like nothing more than for you to come home, I’m glad you enjoy it so. You weren’t my scholar, but you were my little fighter. And it’s honest work for an honest paycheck, at least. And from this talk of bringing back shore-leave, I can't wait for you to tell me about the decision.

I think that now that your nineteen years old, you ought to know more about the family. I doubt your wild spirit will tame in time for you to start your own family, but I think it’s only fair that you know about the people you came from. I could tell you over the phone, but I’d rather tell you in person.

I won’t hint much at what I need to say. I will say this: your opinion of me may change. If you do not ever want to speak with me again after wards, I would grudgingly understand.

But I do miss you, and I can’t wait to receive your letter, hun.


“What does grung-ing-lee mean?”

Engineer swallowed a spoonful of oatmeal and replied, “She wouldn’t like to, in so many words. Why?”

The letter was carefully slipped back into the envelope, “No reason. Ma said she’d wants to tell me stuff sooner or later. Probably made a will or something. She does stuff like that.”

“And the package?”

“Didn’t say. Don’t think it’s from her. But it’s mine, so let’s pray for the ‘Grow-Your-Own-Babe’ kit!”

Scout tore the open the package and was stunned to find a baseball bat inside. The very one he left behind in the RED base a week earlier. Along with this gift was a small handwritten card, “Edward” written on the front with dazzling red ink.

Upon opening the card, he squinted to read the small handwriting. “You left this in my possession last time we met. I wish we met on more pleasant terms, but I just wanted to test your reflexes. I will see you soon, my lad. –Daddy.”

All the blood in Scout’s face suddenly vanished, sucking the color away with it.

Engineer peered over to Scout, his brow arching over his goggles in concern. “Edward? You okay, boy” he asked, a gloved hand reached out to rest on Scout’s shoulder. “Boy?”

“It’s real-” Scout grinned over at Engineer before he fell out of his chair, unconscious.

To Be Continued…
>> No. 564
Btw, is it possible to get the copy that Anonymous reposted for me removed?
You can delete it yourself if you like, it was posted with the standard anonymous password.
>> No. 1591
Please keep going! I want to see how this turns out!
>> No. 1611
dude this is awesome I AM A FAGGOT HUMP MY RUMP

Although the obvious Star Wars joke my eyes roll so far up I could see the inside of my skull.
>> No. 1699
Oh god, please continue this. :D

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