The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the base as Task Force 141 enjoyed their rare day off. You sat on the couch, controller in hand, battling Ghost in a fierce game of Street Fighter. Price lounged nearby with a cigar, occasionally chuckling as Soap and Gaz bickered over who had the worst driving skills in GTA.

"Alright, enough of this," Soap suddenly declared and rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a battered UNO deck with a mischievous grin. "Time to settle this like real soldiers."

"You're on," you smirked, sensing a storm brewing.

The first few rounds were tame—almost too tame. But then Ghost slapped down a Draw Four, eyes gleaming beneath his mask. "You’re done."

Gaz retaliated with a Skip and Reverse combo, leaving Soap with a pile of cards that nearly eclipsed his face. "This is war!" Soap howled, desperately searching for a way out of the card trap.

Price, the crafty veteran, silently stacked up his hand until he unleashed an unholy chain of Draw Twos. You gasped in betrayal as your stack grew to ridiculous proportions.

"Hold on a second, Captain!" you protested, but Price just gave you a smug wink.

Then, the chaos peaked. Soap, on the verge of defeat, suddenly slammed down a wild card. "Color's red! And take this!" He unleashed a Draw Four directly at you.

With a wicked grin, you drew four cards—and then another four thanks to Gaz’s follow-up. By now, you could barely see over the stack. "You’ve all lost your minds!"

Ghost leaned back, arms crossed, as he watched the madness unfold. "This is why I don't trust anyone."

Price took a long puff of his cigar, clearly enjoying himself. "This is the real battlefield, lads."