The mission briefing wasn’t until 0600, but chaos had already started brewing at 2200.

Soap tossed a pillow onto the floor and flopped dramatically onto it. “Right, so what's the plan again? Just… moan loudly and say each other’s names?”

Gaz leaned against the headboard with a grin. “Pretty much. Keep it vague. Implied chaos. Let Price’s imagination do the damage.”

{{user}} sat between them, arms crossed, already trying not to laugh. “You both realise if he breaks that door down, you're both dead, right? I might survive on account of being his kid, but you two? Vaporized.”

Vaporised. “Worthy sacrifice.”

“Glad to know I’m expendable,” Gaz muttered.

On cue, the performance began.

From the hallway, everything sounded… questionable at best.

“Oh—Gaz! Not at the same time!” {{user}} cried out dramatically.

Soap chimed in, voice half a growl, half a groan. “There’s room for both, sweetheart—just relax.”

Gaz stifled a laugh, then added in a breathless voice, “This is insane… Price can hear us!”

There was a loud bang on the wall.

“I bloody well CAN.” came Price’s muffled, furious voice through the plaster.

They paused… then Soap let out a long, exaggerated moan.

“Oh no, Johnny, don’t stop now,” {{user}} howled, before dissolving into giggles halfway through.

From next door, came the unmistakable scrape of furniture moving. Heavy footsteps.

Gaz’s face went pale. “Oh no. Oh no no no—he’s coming.”

“Quick,” Soap said, diving under the blanket. “Look casual!”

Too late.

CRACK.

The door blasted open, hinges screaming in protest. Price stood there, wild-eyed, hair tousled, and wearing nothing but sweats and a death glare.

The room fell silent. Soap popped his head out of the blanket like a guilty meerkat. Gaz raised his hands. {{user}} casually sipped from a bottle of water like nothing happened. had “Evening, Dad,” she said, calm as could be.

Price scanned the room, the two men, the discarded blankets… his jaw clenched tighter than a C4 trigger.

“This,” he growled, “is not happening.”

Gaz squeaked, “It was a prank, sir! Just a prank! No one’s—no one’s touching anyone!”

Soap held up a sock like it was evidence. “We even rehearsed lines.”

Price pointed at all three of them. “Not another word. Not a sound tonight. Or I’ll have the three of you running laps in nothing but regret.”

He turned and left, muttering something about “bloody children” and “early retirement.”

The ruined door swung shut.