The three men sat in tense silence around a brown coffee table, the ticking of a wall-mounted clock being the only sound anything dared to make at the moment. In a recliner was McDonell Miller, former right hand to the man known as Big Boss, former survival trainer at the US military's FOXHOUND, and current retiree living in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Alaska. To his left on a dark leather couch were two others he was intimately familiar with from back in the day – Revolver Ocelot and Eli, now called Liquid Snake.

Today had begun like any other, Miller waking up and making himself a large pot of coffee before turning on the TV to watch the news. Before he could make it to that second step, however, his doorbell rang. This was already highly unusual given he was a good three miles out from civilization and had no neighbors made even stranger by the fact it was only 8:00 AM.

Upon opening the door, he found a revolver pointed straight at his face, the soon-to-be terrorists letting themselves in and ushering him towards his living room for a "friendly chat". After the explanation was given – that they were planning to kill him so as to impersonate him via Codec to fool Solid Snake in the next few days – everything fell quiet, seemingly realizing how utterly bizarre it was to not only come in through the front door of the house your prospective murder victim lived in but to sit him down and discuss it like you're making business plans.

Naturally, Ocelot was the first to speak, relishing the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. "It's nice that we all got to see each other again," he said, spinning his gun in hand while still keeping it pointed in Miller's direction. "How long's it been since we were all in the same room? About 20 years, give or take."

Another silence. "I'm just...trying to process all of this," Miller finally said. "So you two chucklefucks are going to stage a revolt against the United States. And you're going to use Metal Gear to do it. And what you're really after here is to get Big Boss' body back from wherever they have it stored on ice, something I didn't even know still existed since the last I'd heard over the radio was that he exploded into a thousand pieces."

"Yes, that's correct," Liquid confirmed with a nod. "Us and the rest of FOXHOUND."

"And for all of this to work, your plan hinges on you being able to impersonate me, which you're going to do by killing me in my house and stealing my sunglasses which you'll wear while talking to Snake over the Codec."

"Indeed. It's not that hard to follow."

"And at no point did anyone involved in this plan realize that the Codec technology...is audio only?"

Liquid scoffed. "Of course we know that. It's the principle of the thing. After all, how could I infiltrate my brother's support team disguised as you if you were still alive? Someone might call you at home and then I'd be exposed."

"But why my glasses? You made sure to mention you wanted to steal my fucking glasses. And why are you sitting down here like we're all pals and you're trying to talk me into taking out a business loan to open a restaurant with you?"

"You've never heard of manners?" Ocelot chimed in.

"Right, wouldn't want to be rude when you're blowing my brains out." Miller sighed, rubbing the side of his head with his hand.

"If it's really bothering you that much, Miller, I'll just find another pair of glasses." He sounded incredibly annoyed at the prospect of making this compromise.

"Truth is," Ocelot said, "he really just wants them for himself. Thinks he'll look 'mondo cool' if he's wearing them."

"Shut your mouth, old man," Liquid huffed. "You don't know anything."

"Sure I do. I was talking to your gimp before we came out here. He read your mind."

Liquid gasped, his true intentions exposed. "That little…" He grunted, folding up his arms like a petulant child.

"This is really amazing," Miller said. "You're both so stupid."

"And we're about to kill you," Liquid shot back. "So who's the real stupid one here?"

"Still both of you," Miller growled. "Yeah, big man over there, pointing a gun at a guy with only two limbs. Fight me one on one and we'll see what happens."

"Is that a challenge?" Liquid asked, standing up. "I'll happily teach you your place."

"Oh, that would be amazing," Miller said, gripping his crutch and slamming the end into the ground. "It's been a while since I kicked some whiny little punk's ass."

"Here, I'll make it fair," he said, putting his arms behind his back and presenting them to Ocelot. "Tie my hands up. I won't even need them for this."

A gunshot rang out in the room, several huskies barking from the backyard. "Both of you settle down," Ocelot commanded, lowering his revolver from where he'd pointed it into the air. "Now we're going to sit here until we reach and agreement. We're not a bunch of cavemen banging rocks together. We're gentlemen."

Reluctantly, both of them settled back into their seats. "I don't even know what you're wanting from me," Miller said. "What am I supposed to do here? Give you permission to shoot me?"

"Personally, I was hoping you'd try to fight back," Liquid admitted. "It would make the kill all the more rewarding."

"I was just hoping to see an old friend," Ocelot said, both groaning in response.

"Oh, fuck off," Miller said. "We're not friends. We were never friends."

"Honestly," Liquid agreed. "Even I could tell you hated one another. What's the point in lying to him?"

"He always does this," Miller pointed out. "He can't stop lying to everyone. How many years do you think he waited to tell me the Snake commanding Diamond Dogs wasn't even the real Boss?"

Liquid's mouth fell agape, Ocelot tensing. "Excuse me, Miller?"

"Wait, he didn't tell you? You never knew?"

"Of course not!" Liquid reached over and grabbed Ocelot by the collar. "Is he telling the truth?"

Ocelot cleared his throat. "Well-"

"What are you asking him for?" Miller interrupted. "You think he's suddenly going to tell the truth?"

"You're absolutely right," Liquid agreed, shoving Ocelot away and shaking his head. "I can't believe it. I'm so inferior I lost to a copy."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Miller said in a surprising show of empathy. "I knew the man for years before then and even I couldn't tell the difference. This asshole must have done something to make him just like the real Boss."

"In my defense," Ocelot began.

"No one cares!" both Miller and Liquid shouted in unison.

"Thinks he can talk his way out of this," Miller grumbled. "Change your name to fucking Weasel, piece of shit."

Liquid chuckled, nodding. "I should have expected as much, though. Just last week, he put on this whole production just to trick another of us into switching coffee cups with him just because she'd already used the last of the creamer and he doesn't like black coffee."

Miller slapped the side of his chair, restraining his laugh. "That's just like him. You remember Code Talker from back in the day? The parasite specialist? I was testing burger recipes with him one day, but the samples I had the R&D team whip up kept disappearing when no one was looking. And guess who we caught in the act."

"Ocelot!" Liquid chided.

"Nope, even better. See, he knew we were onto him, so he set up the dog to eat the last one. He'd let a poor animal take the fall just to save his own ass. Didn't count on me putting a camera in the staff kitchen, though, and then a backup for when he'd find that one."

"I think we've all done things we're not proud of," Ocelot said to try and defend himself. "No need to keep digging up the past. We've got more important things to talk about now." He was obviously agitated, his gun continuing to spin the entire time they were roasting him.

"Oh, shove off, Ocelot," Liquid said with a wave of his hand. "And put that away already."

"Finally, someone mentioned it." Miller sighed. "He's always fucking spinning his guns. Newsflash, it's not the goddamn Old West. It's 2005. Get a real gun, too."

"Over a hundred years of technological advancements and the man hasn't even heard of a weapon with more than six bullets," Liquid said with a shake of his head. "It's really quite tragic."

Ocelot growled, gripping his gun in hand. "You two can sit here attacking me all day if you want, but no one says anything about these beauties. This is the great-"

"Greatest handgun ever made, yes, yes," Liquid said, rolling his eyes.

"What, he still says that?" Miller asked. "God, he wouldn't shut up about it when he got some of those back in the day. And he traded out those other, better revolvers to just use them. What?"

Liquid shook his head. "It's like a security blanket. A security blanket with the reload speed of old, arthritic man."

"So, like Ocelot?" They both laughed again. "You know what, kid, you're not half bad."

"Indeed," Liquid agreed. "Honestly, I can't even recall why I've hated you so much over the years. After all, you hated my father, as well."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Fuck Big Boss."

"Fuck Big Boss," Liquid echoed. "I'm not even upset you helped to take my chance to murder him. If anyone's lust for revenge could match mine, I'd say it would be yours."

"Hey, the important part is he's finally dead," Miller said. "What did you actually want his body for? You didn't get to that part."

"Oh, my apologies. You see, the military had been performing experiments on the FOXHOUND soldiers, implanting father's 'soldier genes' into them to improve their performance. But now my men are dying and to prevent that, we'll need father's DNA to develop a workaround."

"Jesus Christ," Miller swore. "So you're just trying to save your men?"

"Well, that's one of the goals," Liquid told him.

"Damn, I can't even be mad. If someone infected my men with something that was slowly killing them, I'd do anything I could to save them, then kill whoever was responsible." He clicked his tongue. "Wait, that actually happened. And then the fake Boss wouldn't go ahead and shoot that bastard in the head. I bet that's your fault, too, Ocelot." He didn't reply, sitting there seething in his seat.

"No sense of honor, him or father," Liquid said. "You know, Miller, I might have come here to kill you today, but I've quite come to like you."

"You're not so bad yourself," he replied.

"How would you like to join us in our plans?"

"Are you insane?" Ocelot finally spoke up. "We can't just be smuggling someone back to Shadow Moses, especially not this late into the operation."

"Oh, quiet down, Ocelot," Liquid dismissed. "This man has more than enough experience to make any risk a worthy trade off. Besides, I think I could use a new second in command."

"Wow, you mean that?" Miller said, stunned. "I mean...nah, I can't. I'm all old. Plus I'm retired."

"None of us ever truly retire from the battlefield," Liquid told him. "I can tell you've still got some fight left in you yet. Come, we'll make good use of you in FOXHOUND."

Miller grew quiet, seriously considering this offer. He thought he'd gotten out of the game, yet here he was being dragged back into the fray. And the worst part was he really wasn't fighting back. "Well, I guess I can't really say no. After all, you might just shoot me." He laughed again. "Fine, I'll join up with you all. Not like I've got any reason to be loyal to the American government. You've got yourself a deal...Boss."

The two of them leaned forward to shake hands, a loud bang stopping them dead in their tracks. This was quite the literal idiom for Miller, a bullet piercing his chest and snuffing the life out of him where he sat.

"Oops," Ocelot said in complete deadpan, barrel of his gun still smoking. "Finger slipped." He spun his revolver a few times before holstering it.

"Son of bitch!" Liquid shouted, standing up and flipping the table in front of him. "Ocelot, you ignorant slut! He was about to join us!"

"Well, no use crying over it," he said with a shrug. "Guess we'll just have to go with the original plan."

Still pissed, Liquid couldn't offer a rebuttal. After all, this is what they'd come here to do. Without a word, he stomped forward and stole the glasses off Miller's corpse, heading for the door after. "Let's go!" he shouted back.

"I'm coming," Ocelot grumbled, nodding to Miller with a smile as he got up. The plan was dangerously close to going off the rails there. Luckily, he'd gotten things back under control. As if he'd ever allow Miller to tag along on their operation. Especially not after what he'd said about Big Boss. He'd have to teach Liquid a lesson sooner or later, too.

Wrote this as an alternate take on the premise of my last story. It's what would happen if everyone in Metal Gear had one brain cell like in canon but absolutely no one in this scene got to have it that day. That includes me since I stayed up all night writing this in some kind of fugue state.

Kind of think this one speaks for itself, so I don't have anything else to say this time. Thanks for reading. Share if you enjoyed. Always remember to keep your finger off the trigger unless you're ready to shoot.