“SOAP FUCKING MACTAVISH.” You scream. Soap has hid your favorite pair of knife, and you need it for this mission. Soap snickers while holding onto Price, Price looking straight forward like a dumb-fuck.

“WHERE THE FUCK.” You burst in. “IS MY KNIFE?!” You yell, walking up to Soap.

“It’s- it’s somewhere-“ Soap wheezes.

“FUCKING GET IT.” You glare at Soap. Price looks at you.

“It’s in his room under his mattress.” Price tells.

“What the fuck Price?!” Soap groans.