Disclaimer: Hideo Kojima still maintains control of Metal Gear and its characters, despite my failed campaign to wrest said control from his grasp.


"Sleeping late as usual, eh Snake?"

Our hero was greeted back into the land of the conscious by both Liquid's words and a throbbing headache. Looking around, Snake realized that he was sitting on top of the wreckage of Metal Gear, with Liquid looking only slightly worse for wear, considering he was at the epicenter of a giant ass explosion. Worse yet, Snake was once again shirtless.

"Liquid? How the fuck?! That blast knocked me out, and I was on the other side of the supply route. You were at ground zero, and you're still fucking alive? How?! And… uh… why am I shirtless again?"

"I won't die… as long as you still live."

"So… the blast threw you through a plot hole? Fuck. So why did you take my shirt?"

"Erm… that was Ocelot's idea…"

"That's fucking creepy."

"Yeah. Anyways, I get yet another chance to monologue. You see, I'm fighting for a world where warriors like us are honored like we once were… as we should be."

"Wow, let me guess; you came up with this entire plan after watching 300, right?"

"My goal wasn't based on a fucking movie, it was our father's dying wish, remember? When he was young, during the Cold War, the world needed men like us, to stop fifty-year old kung fu chicks, sadistic Brezhnevist electric Russians, and evil bastards with lame villain names like 'Gene' and 'Cunningham'. Seriously, even 'Decoy Octopus' is more menacing than 'Gene'."


IN HELL…

"Oh yeah, Gene was a moron." Big Boss said. "Rawr, fear my ability to hypnotize guards with my voice… yeah, like keeping the cannon fodder brainwashed is some kinda masterstroke of badassedry. Hell, I did it with Campbell and a delivery van."

"Campbell and a van? How the fuck did you…" Octopus said…

"…Don't ask, I'm not particularly proud of some of the things I did back then. It was the 1970s, and I'm sure we all did things we wouldn't do under normal circumstances during the 1970s."

"Uh… how many guards did you 'brainwash'?"

"About 200…."

"Uh…"

"Don't judge me. The main lesson to be learned from that whole mess was that Gene was a moron."

"Yeah; what was with the fucker? Always calling me 'Perfect Soldier'…" Gray Fox chimed in. "Yeah, I get it, I was the perfect mindless, machete-wielding soldier and all, but I did have a codename back then, 'Null'. If everyone else called him by his job, he'd be known as 'Beret-wearing Jackass'. Though I do admit, having a hot doctor chick who wasn't my adopted sister show up whenever I was brought out of that coffin thing was pretty boss."

"Fox, did I ever tell you how much I despise you?" Big Boss growled. "Anyways, y'know, I know where his house is down here. Want to steal his lawn gnomes?" Big Boss enquired.

As if on cue, everyone sitting around BB shouted "Yay!", and followed him out the door. Yeah, death had its way of lowering the scope of everyone's villainy, so now, instead of plotting global conquest or retribution for previous defeats; the FOXHOUNDers were willing to settle on committing lawn gnome theft.


BACK AT SHADOW MOSES…

"Anyways, now things are different. Because of all the liars and hypocrites running the world, war isn't what it used to be… we're losing our place in a world that no longer needs us. Those fuckers… 'Oooh, we don't want to risk another genocidal global conflict', such whiny bastards. You should know as well as I do, the world spurns our very existence. After I launch the weapon and get our billion dollars, we'll be able to bring chaos and honor… back to this world gone soft. Conflict will breed conflict… new hatreds will arise… then! We'll expand our sphere of influence."

"First, how the fuck are you going to launch a nuke, because Metal Gear's just a pile of scrap right now? Second, why would they pay you if you launch the nuke? And isn't the whole point moot, since as long as there are people, there will always be war? Man, I thought Papa's big 'Let's start World War III' plan sucked the first two times, and now you've resurrected it."

Ignoring the two problems with his plan that Snake had presented, Liquid decided to address the third issue. "The problem is balance… Father knew what type of balance was best, which coincidentally was the kind that had him holding all the cards…"

"I don't want that kind of world…"

"Ha! You lie!" Liquid said, going through his usual routine of hand motions. "If you don't want to fight, why are you here? Why do you continue to follow your orders while you're superiors betray you? Why did you come here?"

"I came here because Campbell kidnapped me, stole my clothes, and told me to stop a bunch of crazy fuckers. And I doubt that if I simply said 'My superiors suck, I won't follow their orders', that you guys'd not want me dead."

"No, you stupid jackass, you enjoy all the killing!"

"While I'll admit, the rampant violence was a net positive when I wasn't the recipient; I kinda think my version of events is less moronic."

"Are you denying it? Haven't you already killed most of my comrades?"

"That was…"

"I saw your face while you did it. It was filled with the joy of battle."

"You creepy voyeur freak!"

"There's a killer inside you… You don't have to deny it…" Liquid said, his tone edging the thin line between 'Crazy Mass Murderer talking to another crazy mass murderer' and 'Creepy uncle that your parents try to keep you away from at all costs'. "…We were created to be that way."

"Created?"

"Y'know that Les Efantes Terribles thing I was babbling about? It was a secret 1970s program to clone the badassest soldier ever. Unfortunately, Big Boss was in a coma around that time; but with a combination of 20th century analog cloning and the super baby method, they managed to create us."

"Super baby method? Does that involve kryptonite?"

"No, you twit, it means that we were originally octuplets; but they killed off six of them, making us accomplices in fratricide before we were even born. But that's not all… They then gave you all the dominant genes, leaving me with all the recessive traits! You took everything from me before I was born! Oh, and since the genome soldiers all received gene therapy from Big Boss; they're technically our brothers as well."

"Wait… if I'm the best brother, and the genome soldiers are all our brothers as well, why the Hell are you so pissed off? I mean; seriously, you don't suck as bad as at least a few hundred other brothers…"

"Oh, and the 'Gulf War Syndrome'? 'Twas caused by side effects of early gene-therapy tests. And their children? Our brothers as well…"

"…So… let's review. I'm trying to stop a group of terrorists, who apparently all were my brothers, from launching a stealthed, undetectable supernuke, and I was the result of a cloning project from the seventies. Gulf War Syndrome was actually a human experiment of gene-therapy techniques, and I'm the carrier of a heart attack causing intelligent virus. So… any other in-fucking-sane conspiracies you want to shed light upon?"

"Let's see… Area 51 is really a factory seeking to produce the greatest pop ever, the whole 'Illuminati meeting with big-eyed aliens' thing is all just a cover story to scare people away from some really fuckin' good cola. Elvis, Amelia Earhardt, and JFK are all living in a secret bunker underneath Disney World. John Wilkes Booth was actually hired by William Henry Seward, Lincoln's Secretary of State; who later set up the impeachment of Andrew Johnson in a bid to wrest control of the United States from them. Bigfoot's marriage to the Loch Ness Monster is a sham. Santa Claus is real. And…"

"…I shouldn't have asked…" Snake said, wondering who he wanted to be dead more; Liquid, or that bastard Elvis. Screw Presley; Sinatra's the king damnit!

"And we're all dying on a cellular level due to the Asymmetry Theory. That's why we need the old man's DNA. And thanks to the Selfish Gene Theory, which states that family members don't mate with each other…"

"Considering I'm tied up and we're both shirtless right now, I'm real grateful for the Selfish Gene thing."

"For the love of God, will you let me finish? Family members don't mate with one another, yet they help each other survive. That's why my goal is to save the genome soldiers."

"Aw, how nice. Anyways, conspiracy theories, asymmetry theories, selfish gene theories. Y'know I have a theory."

"Really, what?"

"I call it the 'Liquid is a Jackass Theory'. It's real technical, but the gist of it is that you're a jackass."

"You can't say anything to me that father didn't when I was three…"

"What about a stupid bastard motherfucker whose going to die at the hands of his cooler twin brother?"

"He used to sing me to sleep with that one…"

"That's fucked up…"

"Brilliant deduction… anyways, you can't fight your genes, its fate. All living things are born for the sole purpose of passing down their parent's genes. That's why I'm going to save the genome soldiers, to let them pass on their genes. And then I'll go beyond! I'll break the curse of my heritage. And to do that, I'll kill you!"

"First, if you can't fight your genes and you inherited all of Big Boss's bad traits, I'd assume you have the 'Get's his ass killed by Solid Snake' chromosome. Second, doesn't the fact that genes are fate; and me having superior genes make you, y'know, kinda fucking scared? And third, doesn't wanting to kill me go against the whole Selfish Gene thing?"

"Uh…" Liquid said, at a loss for words… "Hey, look! A distraction!" Liquid said, pointing behind Snake, at the possibly unconscious/possibly dead form of Meryl.

"Foolish woman, falling in love with a man that doesn't even have a name…"

"Wait… she was cheating on me with Gray Fox? That bastard!"

"I was referring to you. Me and you own nothing; our pasts and futures are just copies of Big Boss's. I'll let her go once we finish our business. We're almost out of time."

"Oh God! Foxdie! I'm too young to have a heart attack! Damn it, I stopped eating steak to stop my arteries from clogging. Gypped!". Yep, that's our hero, courageous to the end.

"Actually, the Pentagon's aware of Metal Gear's destruction, and are currently planning on nuking us off the map. I'd ask Campbell for more info…"


"Shnake! The Shekretary of Defensh hash jusht taken ofer command! He'sh ordered a nuclear shtrike from stealth fightersh!"

"But Metal Gear's down! He doesn't need to kill me! I mean he doesn't need to kill all those innocent people!" Our panicking hero said, ignoring the fact that the only innocent people on the base were a science geek and unconscious/possibly dead love interest.

"Aktually, he ordered the shtrike after we told him that Metal Gearsh wash deshtroyed. He wantsh to cover it all up. He literally shaid 'The shecret of the amayshing cola diesh with Liquid'. Oh, and shomething about the genome armiesh and nuclear tanksh."

"So he wants to vaporize all the evidence with a nuclear bomb? What a tool…"

"Don't worry Shnake! I'll shtop the bombsh! I'll shay 'Don't blowsh up Shnake!' and hope they get confooshed! Oh, and here'sh anosher conspirashy, Foksh-Hound wash under inveshtigation for shome type of shower camera shcandal, and Meryl wash transhferred to the base to manipulate me. Get out of there, Shnake!"

"Uh… thanks Colonel…" our hero said, wondering how the Hell he was going to escape considering he was still handcuffed on the top of Metal Gear.

"Thish is the leasht I can do. HEY! Shecretary of Shtate dude! Don't blowsh up Shnake! Wait… arrrrrrrrrrrgh!" Suddenly, the drunken face of Roy Campbell was replaced by the piratey face of Jim Houseman, United States Secretary of State.

"Hey, Houseman! Put the drunk back on!"

"Campbell's been relieved of his command for high treason, leaking secret information, and being drunk on the bridge of a nuclear submarine."

"Man, you really are a tool. Did the president really authorize you to do all this?"

"Nope, he's too busy leeching off of special interests and skirt-chasing after interns."

"So… how're you going to explain a nuclear explosion in Alaska?"

"First, you're in fucking Alaska. Who's gonna give a damn? Three polar bears and a seal? But if anyone asks, we'll say that the terrorists had a small mishap and blew themselves up." As a side note, to all you Alaskans, I have no control over what Jim Houseman, professional tool, says. "I'd consider not blasting everyone to kingdom come, if you were to promise that you'd give me the optical disk that possesses all of Rex's data."

"What disk? Oh, I remember, Ocelot took it from me. I didn't really care, seeing as how I was a walking arsenal with all the other gear I had, and it served no purpose to me. Didn't really mind losing it. But please, just hear me out…"

"You let Clint Eastwoodovich take it? Fuck, I will dance on your grave. You and your brother are a national disgrace! I mean, what, we created you to serve as merciless killers, and you are merciless killers, you yourself killing hundreds and saving the world multiple times. I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR!"

"That's fucked up. What about everyone here? You'll be killing a terrorist army, an apathetic killer who inadvertently gave the terrorists launch capacity, and a Stockholm-afflicted nerd."

"That's precisely the reason I'm launching. Well, the bombs'll be rainin' down soon, so why don't you and blondie braid each other's hair or sit and talk about boys or something?"


"Did he just call me blondie?" Liquid said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep, and he mistook the two of us for stereotypical middle-school girls. The 'Jim Houseman is a gigantic tool' theory holds up."

"So… we're all about to be decimated by an airstrike… Let's just fucking throw down, alright? Only your death can return what is rightfully mine, even if what is rightfully mine is going to be blasted to hell five minutes after I win…" Liquid said, running out of dramatic speeches to improvise. "And Hell, to make this interesting, I'll set up this time bomb to blast us to oblivion in three minutes while we're at it. Ooh, and if you win you can take Meryl with you! And…"

"Just shut up with the stipulations and untie me so I can kick your ass." Looking downcast, Liquid acquiesced.

"Fine, just remember, if you walk over the edge of Metal Gear, you'll fall…" Liquid said, reaffirming that gravity hadn't been negated while Snake was unconscious. "At this height, the drop would kill even you. But not me, because I got the Wile E. Coyote genome, or something."

And so, the two glared at each other. With Liquid's exclamation of "Have at you!", the battle was joined.

As both brothers pummeled the fuck out of each other, the two remaining CODEC support members who weren't arrested, proven to be megalomaniacal clones, or weeping over their deceased sniper girlfriend watched the fight from satellite feed.


"Is it fair to punch someone in the kidneys like that?" Mei Ling asked.

"Of course eet eesn't. But zhey're secret military experiments trained as azazins. Vhat do you expect?"

"Ow. Liquid just got gouged in the eye."

"Do you vant Snake to vin?"

"Well yeah, but that's just not nice…"

"Vhat? He'z dizrespected your proverbs and my hatred of nuclear veapons. He's hit on us more timez than he's asked us for advice. He incinerated hiz own father. And you expect him to vight vair?"

"Good point. We still want him to win right?"

"He'z a bit of a jackazz, but my contract zays zhat if Znake dies, my pay'll be docked."

"Wait… so does mine! But the Secretary's sending bombers to destroy the base…"

"Vucking Houzeman. Cheap baztard'z tryink to rip us off!"

"Man. He is a gigantic fucking tool!"

"Zo… ve must assure Znake's victory, and hope he can ezcape ze blast radius of a ground penetrating nuclear vorhead in time."

"Hey Nastasha, I have an idea…"

"Lay eet on my zizter."

"It involves karaoke…"


Meanwhile, as Snake and Liquid were settling their argument like any pair of brothers would, excluding the nuclear bomb and murderous intent, Snake's CODEC beeped.

"Mei Ling, Natasha. I am –ow my fucking jaw- very busy. I do not need to hear Sun Tzu's quotes about unarmed combat, nor the technical specifications of a fist. Please let me - DIE LIQUID!- get blown up by this nuclear device while my brother is punching me in the temple in peace, okay?" However, Snake was not me by maudlin quotes or anti nuke tirades, but rather truly godawful 1980s music, as sung by two women with hilarious accents…

"Eet eez ze eye of ze tiger…"
"Confucius says it's 'The thrill of the fight'."
"Risink up to ze challenge ov our rival –in your caze, blondie-."
"And, as Oscar Wilde once put it 'The last known survivor stalks his prey in the night',"
"And he'z vatching us all vith the eye of ze tiger…"
"Washington once wrote 'eye of the tiger'…"
"Risink up, straight to ze top,"
"Lu Bu once exclaimed 'Had the guts, had the glory'."
"Vent ze distance, now I'm not goink to stop…"
"Winston Churchill once said 'Just a man and his will to survive…"
"Eet eez ze eye of ze tiger…"
"Ayn Rand once said 'eye of the tiger…"."
"Eye of ze tiger'
"Charles Dickens went 'Eye of the tiger…'."

Now, fueled by a power that could defeat Mister T and Russian Communism, Snake felt like climbing stairs and challenging Carl Weathers. But for now, he settled for stopping his brother and escaping the island before it was blown up.

-BAM!-
-CRACK!-
-AMAZING CQC ACTIONY BREAK LIQUID'S FACE THING!-
-FATALITY!-
-UPPERCUT OF ULTIMATE KNOCKING A JACKASS OFF A MECH!-

And so, Liquid fell…

…and fell…

…and fell…

…and fell…

…exclaiming, all the way down, his usual "SNAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"

Meanwhile, Snake had jumped across Metal Gear, defused the bomb, and was now holding on to his prone love interest.

"Meryl, I did it! I killed Fox-Hound, stopped a threat to the global order, and saved you! Score! Wait… Meryl? Meryl? MEEEEEEEEEEEERYYYYYYYYL!"

His cry echoing across the room, Snake began apologizing randomly. "I'm sorry that you couldn't count on a remorseless clone of the world's greatest eyepatched supervillain to save you! I'm nothing! I'm so sorry!"

"Snake… she's dead… she can't really forgive you" Otacon chimed in, apparently able to drag all 135 pounds of nerd up the side of a ruined mech.

"What the Hell do you know, aside from advanced robotics, engineering, and computer hacking? Meryl's dead, and my boxes… my precious boxes are gone… I lost…" Snake said, losing all composure. And the sad music amped up here.

"Uh… Are you going to stay here and die? Snake, people die all the time. As I learned today, most of them as a result of your actions. But you and Meryl, despite knowing each other for only a few hours, will be together forever, like me and Wolf."

"Nerd… don't get me started on your relationship with your psycho junkie since she's the one who shot my Meryl…"

"Listen, we can bicker about my darling Wolf accidentally wounding your annoying rookie, leading you to cold bloodedly murdering her, until Houseman kills us, or we can steal a jeep and escape."

"You mean…"

"Yes… Life isn't just about loss y'know…"

"Ha! Get a room you two!"

"Meryl… you're alive?"

"Yeah… man, you should've seen the look on you face, Snake. 'Meeeeeeerrrryllll'… It was hilarious."

"Yes! Score! Ha! My girl's still alive! In your face Otacon! I win!"

"Snake… throughout all the torture and terrible Survivor tracks, one hope kept me alive… I wanted to see you!"

Luckily, before any more hackneyed romance could be thrown our way, the building shook.

"Damn. That tool's really going to kill us." Snake said with a grimace.

"Remember the escape route I told you about?"

"Good job Otacon… now that the nuclear bombs are going to fall, let's run our merry way to that jeep, and see if we can't outrun the mushroom cloud and all consuming destruction."

And so, Snake climbed down Metal Gear, then held out his arms for the love interest and side kick to jump down. However, considering the massive blood loss and head trauma he was subjected to over the course of the mission, and his general competence in areas not related to black ops badassedry, Otacon and Meryl both decided to climb down themselves.

"Hey guys?"

"Yeah Meryl?"

"Shouldn't there be like a vaguely Liquid-shaped pile of broken bones and bloodied flesh around here somewhere?"

"Trust me, it was birds. They're like fuckin' sky piranhas man, they can do some damage."

"Hmm… y'know, you're shirtless, and I'm just wearing a tanktop, and we're heading outside… despite Raven's example, shouldn't we y'know, get dressed?"

And so, luckily, the trio found Snake's sneaking suit, though all the sweet gear he had stolen was gone. And Meryl found a bright orange sleeveless vest, the perfect thing to wear outside in Alaska. They proceeded to run towards the garage, Meryl apparently unhindered by the fact that her knees had been used as target practice by the greatest nonphotosynthetic sniper ever, and Otacon apparently unhindered by the ankle he had twisted ducking into a locker to avoid a ninja beatdown.


Over the CODEC, Snake was dictating his last will and testament, as well as his farewells, to Mei Ling and Nastasha, just in case.

"So, my desolate cabin in the middle of nowhere goes to my good friend Campbell."

"Sorry Snake, he's incarcerated." Mei Ling shrugged…

"Master?"

"Deceased."

"You guys?"

"Neither Nastasha nor I want it."

"Then, if I don't make it, can you be sure to set my Huskies loose on unwary travelers after burning my shack to the ground?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Speaking of which, how the Hell are you to going to avoid Jim 'The Tool' Houseman's wrath?"

"Dude, I'm the save game chick, remember? All of this is recorded. So yes, we can reveal that he was behind the cover up."

"Well, guess this is goodbye…"

"Aw, don't worry Snake, I'm sure we'll see each other at the 'Shadow Moses Incident' reunion picnic. Nastasha's already writing out invitations. C'mon I'm sure you'll escape the nuke."

"Um, I'm not as worried about the blast as I am about letting Otacon or Meryl drive the jeep. Those two have got to be on something..."


"I'll drive!"

"No way Otacon! I'm driving."

"Race you to the car!

And so, the two of them ran ahead of Snake, tripping a security camera.

"Hey! A helpless nerd, a critically injured rookie, and the deadliest man on Earth!" Shouted Faceless Guard 516289. "Get the one with the bandana!"

And so, as Snake was doing amazing CQC actiony things, Meryl and Otacon were busy trying to start a jeep.

"Hm… this one with the 'L1QU1D' license plate doesn't have any keys…"

"Hah Otacon! This one does! I drive!"

"Aw man…"

"Would you two shut up and start the car already?"

"Fine… grouchy sonuvabitch… get in!"

With Otacon in the passenger's seat, and Meryl driving, Snake was left to man the giant .50 caliber machinegun. Which frankly, he would've shoved Meryl or Otacon away from if they were there, because he wanted to use it.

And so, after laying waste to the guards and shooting conveniently placed explosive barrels in front of the garage door, the trio started their escape, Snake failing to try to shoot out the other jeep's tires. Because hey, he might've been very generous in the bullets he dispensed earlier, but behind a heavy machinegun with an infinite supply of bullets, you gotta save…

Our heroes continued their escape, laying waste to faceless guards at two security checkpoints. Yes, it looked as though our heroes would make it through intact, until…

"Not yet Snake! It's not over yet!" Liquid shouted from the jeep they didn't take.

Okay…Helicopter crash, Metal Gear explosion, and a 50 foot fall onto concrete… HOW THE FUCKING HELL IS HE STILL ALIVE? Snake thought as he turned around, manning the gun.

And yet again, Liquid and Snake locked in a cold blooded struggle. Did Snake try to shoot out the engine block of Liquid's jeep with a well-placed spray of .50 caliber bullets? No. Did Liquid try to shoot out Meryl, to stop the getaway? No. Both brothers were content to yet again shoot randomly at each other as Otacon and Meryl argued in the front seat over whether to listen to the rock or news channel on the radio…

And unfortunately for everyone involved, both Otacon and Meryl were so engrossed in channel surfing, they failed to pay attention to the road. And thus, our heroes ended up laying prone in the snow, underneath their wrecked jeep. Liquid's jeep was flipped over a convenient distance away, with no sign of the mastermind visible.

"Are you guys alright?"

"Yeah, Snake, man, we're lucky that we narrowly avoided skidding over the edge of the cliff conveniently located right next to the end of the tunnel."

"Yep, only two thousand pounds of jeep resting on our spines, and none of use seems to be in any pain." Otacon chimed in.

"Can you guys move?"

"Nope, it's too comfy underneath this wrecked vehicle."

"What happened to Liquid?" Snake asked, losing count of the number of times Liquid magically showed up, none worse the wear after some sort of horrible injury…

"I dunno. Hope he's dead though…" Meryl said.

Otacon once again chimed in with expert analysis. "Yeah, I mean, none of us are hurt at all, and he's harder to kill than Rasputin. Or a cockroach. Or some sort of weird combination of the two, but yeah, I think he's dead."

"SNAKE!" And that my friends, is why Otacon is an engineer, and not a doctor.

And so, battered, bleeding, and quite upset looking, Liquid dragged himself over to our heroes. Yep, he landed on his face, but at least he didn't have a ton of comfy jeep crushing his spine. Raising his FA-MAS, Liquid prepared to finally get around to killing his brother…

"SNAKE….-KAFF-...-urgh-…" Liquid began to say as that familiar 'somebody's about to have a heart attack' music that we all loved so very much from Octopus's and Baker's deaths made a comeback. Okay… I finally win out in the end, am about to kill these bastards, and I'm deus ex machina'd out of the picture? Fucking dad'd probably be laughing his ass off at this… And yes, in Hell, Big Boss was enjoying the post gnome-theft Liquid heart attack show…

"F… Fo…" Liquid wheezed, dropping the rifle and falling to his knees…

"Foxdie?" Snake said…

"No… f-fuck… you… urrrgh" With a final, dramatic hand motion, Liquid Snake died.

"So… he died of Foxdie? SONUVABITCH!"

"Don't think about it, Snake."

"Oh, 'Don't think about it', Meryl? Fucking Liquid's lying dead from a heart attack a foot and a half away! I could poke him! How can I not think about it?"

"Uh, by concentrating on the air raid?"

"DAMNIT!"

"Wait… shouldn't the bomber have arrived by now?" Otacon shrugged.

"Eh… the codec's beeping. If it's Houseman calling to gloat, what expletive do you want me to use?"

Both Meryl and Otacon agreed on "Stupid Piratey Tool Motherfucker".


"SHNAKE!"

"Colonel? Wait… what happened?"

"I managed to callsh up the Preshident! He shaid shomething about 'Damn the Patriotsh' and called off the bombersh! And the Sheckretary of Shtate was just arreshted!"

"Well that's good. Oh, and I managed to save your niece, so you might want to stop drinking, Colonel…"

"Acktually, I'm not a colonel. I'm retiredsh, remember? And Meryl'sh not my niesh, she's my daughtersh…."

"What did you just say, I wasn't paying attention?"

"I shaid… erm…shomeshing I forgot…Oh, and theresh a shnowmobile nearby, show you can jusht leave when you get that car off your shpines…"

"Oh, and about the heart attack virus that you kept secret from me and that made my mission a royal pain in the ass? Yeah, it killed my doppelganger…"

"Wellsh, you can talksh to Naomi about that…"

"Great..." Snake shrugged, feeling a tepid speech coming on. "Naomi, you there?"

"I heard about my brother…"

"I'm sorry… but he had one last message he wanted me to tell you… uh, it was…"

"You forgot, right? Head trauma can cause memory loss…" Naomi sighed.

"…something like he killed someone or something or undying world of shadowy lights… it's really hard to remember… ah well. Just remember he loved you, died like a complete badass, and wanted you to drop your vendetta against me."

"Maybe he finally found peace… he wasn't really Frankie anymore after you blew him up… he was more like a crazy cyborg ninja…" Naomi said, and her words rang true. In death, Fox did find peace. Peace, and garden gnome theft.

"Oh, and about that heart attack virus... when am I going to die?"

"That's up to you?"

"So… what? Did Liquid, Octopus, and Baker think to themselves 'this'd be a great time to die of cardiac arrest?"

"Everyone dies when their time is up…"

"Yeah… and when is my time up? That's kinda why I wanted to talk to you…"

"It's up to you how you use the time you have left to you... Live, Snake, that's all I can say…"

"Uh, how can I know how to manage the time left to me, if I don't know how much time I have left?"

"Can I give a long, drawn out speech about life?" Naomi asked…

"Sure… can I tune it out?" Snake responded, as he, Meryl and Otacon got out from under the car, and began to trudge away towards the snowmobile…

"Each person is born with their fate etched into their genetic code… it's unchanging… but it's not all there is to life. I told you, the reason I became the best insane geneticist was to figure out my own life. But I was wrong. I didn't find out about myself, other than the fact that I had the 'vengeful harpy' gene. Just like the genome soldiers… I gave them the best genes in the world, and you still went through them like a hot chainsaw through an evil, possessed hand. DNA doesn't govern anything more than potential. The fact that your fate is to die of a heart attack isn't important… you must choose life, Snake! Until today, I always looked for a reason to live… beyond malice and vengeance of course…but from now on, I'll just live… living is a link to the future… thank you Snake… you taught me the meaning of life…" As usual, the dramatic music really amped up…

"So… WHEN THE HELL AM I GONNA DIE?"

"Just live, Snake.."

"Is the 'Strip Search' option still available?"

"Sorry, but I honestly thought you'd be dead by now…"

"Then I don't want to live…"

"Maybe Meryl will oblige."

"Life is beautiful..."


"Hey Snake, I found a bandana!" Meryl said, holding it up.

"I already have one…" Snake said, pointing towards his forehead.

"Hey, I'll give you my stealth suit!" Otacon chimed in.

"No, I'll just order something really big off of Amazon, and then use the box..." Snake shrugged. "Maybe it's time we all share what we learned today..."

"Well, I learned that I don't need to be a spectator in life anymore, and hide behind science. Oh, and to always bring along an extra pair of pants." Said Otacon.

"And I learned that I should never stand out in the open when there's a shiny red light about. And that amoral killing machines are loveable…" Meryl giggled.

"And I learned that maybe I shouldn't just live for violence anymore, I should live for other people, namely nerds and target practice I meet during my missions. And that three people have a hard time fitting on a snowmobile. Probably ruins the gas mileage too." Snake said, revving up the machine…

"So… where are we off to, Snake?"

"Call me David…"

"Okay… so where we off to, Dave?"

"A new path in life…" Our de-codenamed hero said, joining his Brother, and all the codec support in the land of cryptic gibberish…

"Hey! What's that?" Meryl said, pointing at an animal in the distance…

"Caribou… to the Aleutians, they're a symbol of life…" Snake said, paying no attention to where he was going…

THUD!

"…and they're speedbumps to inattentive snowmobile drivers... uh… ew… um, okay, let's just ignore that and focus on enjoying life…"

And so, Solid Snake/Dave, Meryl Silverburgh, and Hal Emmerich escaped Shadow Moses Island, heading off into the sunset, and to a new adventure… but that'll just have to wait until I get around to Tactical Idiocy Action 2: Subtitle Not Yet Worked Out.


FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE

And, in the real world, a nerd known as DarkGidora stirred. "Well, 'twas quite the ride, eh? Over two-and-a-half years, and I finally finished a fic!"

"I'd like to give thanks to Hideo Kojima, Konami, TAPPY, Rika Muranaka the US Voice Cast, and everyone else responsible for making one of the best games ever. I may have mocked them all, but hey, I kid because I care." DarkGidora said, making his best attempt at Liquid's evil arms-crossed-looking-down evil pose of doom. "Thanks also goes to any of the owners of the billion and a half random references I threw in. A very special thanks also goes to the immense delays, who kindly donated their time to this project."

And then, as dramatic music amped up, DarkGidora delivered his closing "Finally, I'd like to thank the readers and the reviewers. All things considered, I probably would never have finished without your kindness and loyalty. Thank you for actually reading this gibberish, and for bearing with my complete lack of proofreading, lame running gags, and of course, the delays. A sequel is coming, although I might try a few other fics before I get around to it. And the delays need work too, so y'know…". Unfortunately for the pontificating nerd, he had chose a spot quite visible from a certain snowmobile…

AMAZING CQC ACTIONY BREAKING THE AUTHORS NECK THING!

"I waited 24 chapters to do that…" our hero said, shortly before returning to the sidekicks and ending the fic…


MEANWHILE…

"Yes sir, the entire unit was wiped out" Ocelot said, talking to a mysterious stranger on the phone. "The vector? Foxdie should become activated soon, right on schedule. Barring a sequel, of course. Yes sir, I recovered all of Rex's dummy warhead data, and the only person who knew who I really was has been disposed of. Oh… and speaking of hostages… a really interesting thing happened while I was guarding Baker… hand transplants are covered by the HMO? Gooood. And to reinforce that whole 'genes aren't fate' thing, I'll reveal that Snake was actually inferior to Liquid. Right up until he died, packed in snow and perfectly preserved for transplanting, Liquid believed that he was inferior, just because Big Boss told him that since he was a child. And no one knew that you were actually the third one, Solidus, because you weren't mentioned at all. What? Something to keep the readers demanding a sequel? Alright…"

"Yes…"

"Thank you…"

"Good bye…"

"Mister President…"

DUN DUN DUUUUUN!

And yes, thank you and goodbye to the readers as well…