[ WP ] A soldier in the heat of battle suddenly hears a voice that says `` I am your child 's imaginary friend . They have sent me to protect you in your greatest time of need . ''

A little late to the party here, but this one seemed too fun to pass up. 
 
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 As the fighter erupted into a jet of flame overhead, Papa One noticed two parachutes drift lazily towards the ground. 
 
 It was the hiss of a rifle round that brought him back to earth. 
 
 `` Sar'nt! Wormwood Actual says some fliers punched out maybe two Mikes east of our position.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, I'm tracking Derkins. We keep pushing. If you can raise them on the radio, groovy, but they are not our problem.'' 
 
 It was looking like life served up a real shit sandwich for Cycle Team. 
 
 PFC Moe, or the spaghetti stain formerly known as Moe, was now a modern art masterpiece. His entrails added a distinct red hue to the bleak gray of the rubble the rest of the squad was currently hiding behind. 
 
 A plume of dirt erupted a little too close for Papa's liking. RPGs, an LMG emplacement, plus at least a dozen dismounts stood between Cycle and their rally point. 
 
 SGT Roz stood, and steadily fired in controlled pairs. `` I do n't get paid enough for this shit!'' 
 
 Always going on about the money, Papa One thought. 
 
 A voice crackled over radio. 
 
 `` AlCON, this is Spiff Actual, looking for any friendlies near Assembly Area GROSS. Over.'' 
 
 Derkins, rubbing an ancient-looking plush rabbit's foot, keyed her handset. Spiff was one of the fliers operating in the AO, according to the pre-jump brief. He must have been in the bird that just got smoked. 
 
 `` Spiff Actual, Spiff Actual, this is Cycle 2. We are a squad-sized element one grid south of AA GROSS. Be advised, we are in contact with multiple hostiles!'' Over!'' 
 
 `` Cycle 2, this is Spiff Actual - copy your last. Keep your heads down, we're coming to you!'' 
 
 Spiff, Papa One thought... Spiff. He knew that sounded familiar. A noise at his rear broke interrupted his thought. He swung his rifle to meet the threat. 
 
 Climbing over the rubble, an airman smoothed his definitely-non-regulation mane of blonde hair. He sported red and black striped warpaint, and a volleyball unit patch that Papa did not recognize. 
 
 Another pilot bounded over the obstacle in its entirety. At 6'5, this service member would have stood out in a crowd anyways, even if he was n't an anthropomorphic tiger. 
 
 Cycle team froze. Papa One was the first to speak. 
 
 ``... Calvin..?'' 
 
 `` Hey Dad!'' 
 
 ``... H-Hobbes?'' 
 
 The tiger spoke as Papa One felt his grip on reality slowly slip. 
 
 `` Call sign Tuna Can. Best navigator in my house!'' 
 
 Spiff turned to Derkins as Tuna Can policed up Moe's weapon and ammo. 
 
 Derkins stares in disbelief. `` Calvin, *you're* Spiff?!'' 
 
 Spiff laughs aloud. 
 
 `` Hey Susie, you dumb noodleloaf. I knew it was you over the coms, so me n' Hobbes came to save your sorry butts! Even Roz!'' 
 
 SGT Roz scowls as Spiff chuckles to himself. 
 
 `` Calvin,'' Papa One speaks shakily, `` we're in some real trouble here. What's the plan?'' 
 
 Spiff racks a rifle and grabs a bandoleer as Tuna finishes loading his LMG. 
 
 `` Relax, we just make it up as we go along - that way, we ca n't lose!'' 
 
 The two pilots nod, and then leap over the rubble guns blazing. 
 
 `` Besides'' Spiff yells back `` the score's still Q to 12!''
