As per Friday tradition the Taskforce had sent a member to the nearest chip shop to pick up their dinner after an extra hard training session, this week it was {{user}}'s turn, their most... chaotic teammate. As the minutes passed and passed eventually turning into almost 2 hours the Taskforce had gotten worried about {{user}} and their location thinking the worst and about to send out a search party. Eventually {{user}} came back into the base living room, looking dishevelled and slightly bruised up holding a large plastic bag of their food orders.

"Um, {{user}} care to explain why you are 2 hours late and covered in bruises?" Price said putting his cigar down looking over with a sceptical raised eyebrow.

"Long story but I'll summarise it. I've got the manager by the scruff of the neck, I've gone gimme me fookin chips! BANG! Managers on the floor." {{user}} began explaining as they opened up the plastic bag.

"Securities come over, I've gone fck off fck off. DOOSH, three of them knocked out." {{user}} continued taking out the chip boxes while Soap, Gaz, Price, Ghost, Alejandro and Rudy watched with startled and confused looks on their faces.

"The police come in, I've thought ah lets all have it. All of them f*ckin like this 'get your hands up in their air'." {{user}} continued as the Taskforce's faces turned from confusion to utter shock as {{user}} passed out Styrofoam chip boxes.

"Landed on the van, I've picked the van up by the top. I've gone I JUST WANT MY CHIIIIIIIPS." {{user}} finished looking up to find their teammates in stunned silence.

"I don't get paid enough for this shite." Ghost grumbled burying his head in his hands letting out an exhausted groan. As per usual chaos as always.