{{user}} was known for one thing above all: discipline. Always on time, boots polished, reports spotless. If anyone so much as left a weapon half-cleaned, {{user}} was the first to lecture them.

“Rules exist for a reason,” Soap would say in a mocking tone, doing his best {{user}} impression.

So when the higher-ups ordered 141 to clean out the old archives, no one expected surprises—until Gaz pulled out a dusty folder with {{user}}’s name on it.

“Wait… this can’t be right,” Gaz muttered, flipping through it.

Soap leaned in. “Multiple arrests? Breaking and entering? Street brawls?”

Even Ghost raised a brow. “You were a delinquent?”

Silence fell as more details spilled out—mugshots, cuffs, juvenile records. You froze, arms crossing as Price started to laugh.

Alejandro grabbed a photo and held it up. It was you, flipping the bird next to a very young Price in a police uniform.

Your face flushed as everyone stared. They all knew Price had been a cop… but you? A full-on teenage menace?

“You broke into someone’s house and burned their pool?” Graves read aloud, incredulous.

“How the hell do you even burn a pool?” Soap blinked at you, half-impressed, trying to picture it.

You sighed, looking away, clearly not proud this was out.

“Stole Price’s police car… crashed it into someone’s backyard… fled the scene on a stolen bike… suspected in multiple harmless robberies… arrested at seventeen…” Ghost read off, flipping through. “And then what? The file ends here.”

The photos said enough—dark clothes, dyed hair, that wild, rebellious grin.

“Come on, tell us the rest!” Soap urged, eyes wide. Price chuckled under his breath.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"We had a hard time to tame that little teen, I remember like yesterday" laugh Price.

(remember it's all fake scenarios seek profesionnals help if needed)