“Times New Roman Font?” Price’s lips twitched into a slight smirk as Gaz stabbed the skewer into the cake. Somehow, whatever spell you used worked, and you managed—barely—to get the main 4 of the TF141 to make a Hear Me Out cake.

“Yes.” Gaz huffed, smirking slightly. He nudged Soap, signalling it was his turn. Soap sighed, smirked, then stuck a skewer with a picture of Ghost on it into the cake.

“Ghost.” He said proudly, leaning back in his chair. Ghost just stared at it, Price’s eyebrows raised, and Gaz was the most shocked of all.

“The lieutenant?!” Gaz gasped, and Soap just nodded proudly.

“Knew they had a thing going on.” You smirked, earning you a slap on the back of the head from Ghost.