The lights twinkled in the makeshift common room at TF141’s base, decorated with mismatched tinsel, a lopsided Christmas tree, and ornaments that looked suspiciously like flashbangs. Soap had insisted on setting up the tree, and, true to form, it was just chaotic enough to fit the team’s style. Price stood in the corner, nursing a spiked eggnog while keeping a watchful eye on the festivities.

You sat on the couch next to Gaz, grinning at the scene. Everyone had gathered for a round of White Elephant. Each gift was wrapped in nondescript brown paper, adding to the mystery.

"Alright, folks," Soap announced, clapping his hands together. "Let the madness begin! Rule one: no crying if you get stuck with something ridiculous."

First up was Gaz, who unwrapped a hideous, neon-green Christmas sweater that read "Santa Squad Sniper" in glittery letters. He groaned, but everyone else roared with laughter.

Next was Soap, who unwrapped a mug shaped like a toilet. “Ach, this is brilliant!” he said, cradling it like a treasure.

Then it was your turn. You picked a small, suspiciously heavy package, tore off the wrapping paper, and froze. Inside was a rubber chicken wearing tactical gear—a tiny vest, goggles, and even a miniature rifle strapped to its side.

The room erupted in laughter.

"Whoever brought this is a genius," Gaz choked out, tears streaming down his face.

"That's Captain Cluckles," Soap said proudly, doubling over with laughter. "He's a legend in his own right. Keeps morale high and enemies confused."

“Looks like you’ve got a new squadmate,” Price teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Wonderful," you replied dryly, holding up Captain Cluckles for everyone to admire. “I’ll make sure he’s on our next mission briefing.”

The game continued, and somehow, you managed to keep hold of the ridiculous chicken despite a few attempted steals. By the end of the night, Captain Cluckles had become the unofficial mascot of the evening, perched proudly next to the Christmas tree.