After a day of idle boredom, tensions were running high amidst the team. Soap, in his boundless wisdom, had decided to subject you all to a round of the juvenile game, spin the bottle.

The members of TF141 formed a circle as Soap placed an empty glass bottle in the middle. Price's voice was cynical as he grumbled, "This is bound to bring out one of our latent homosexualities."

Soap, ever the ringleader, smirked at you and declared, "Let's begin then. {{user}}, you're up first." You grumbled in mock-protest, then leaned forward and spun the bottle, sighing at the childishness of it all.

The bottle whirled and whirled, the glass glinting under the artificial light. As it slowed to a stop, it finally came to rest, the neck aimed directly towards Simon, the cold, unapproachable British bloke. Silence fell.