The Teufort Nine's Wizard-Fueled Adventure

Several hours earlier.

"Scout."

Sleep was a precious commodity while working for RED. Difficult to acquire, difficult to keep, and completely untradeable. Throw in Soldier's horribly early PT runs of which he was so fond, and Scout often found himself operating purely on the effects of the caffeine and God-knew-what-else in his hourly Atomic Punch. This time, however, he found himself drifting in a half-awake state of bliss, in a bed many times more comfortable than the flimsy MANNKEA construction he usually found himself in.

"Scout."

Someone was trying to get his attention. Well, fat chance. He deserved this rest after the last battle. No-one was going to forget that cap in a hurry...

"SCOUT!"

He mentally rolled his eyes, and reluctantly deigned to raise his eyelids a fraction. There was an oddly-shaped black smudge in the centre of his vision, speckled with blotches of red here and there. His blurry eyes focused on the object.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH! GIANT BUG!"

Said giant bug was promptly sent flying across his room with a swipe of his arm. Scout was immediately awakened by this sudden shock; in a fit of fright he flung himself upon the insect and began flailing with all his panicked might.

"Scout! Ow! Ouch! Scout! Ow!"

"AAAAAAAAH GIANT BUG GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

"Scout! It is me! Stop it!"

It was then that Scout realised that the overgrown insect was speaking with a familiar accent. It was almost as if... No, it couldn't be.

"Spy?" he said, backing away slowly. "Is... is that..."

"Oui," responded the bug, picking itself up and dusting off with a foreleg. "And perfectly fine. A little bruised, c'est vraix, no thanks to you, but in perfect condition otherwise."

Scout, now fully awakened thanks to the shock of having, yes, a giant bug positioned inches from his face, took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. For starters, he was in some kind of warehouse; large crates were piled up everywhere, and the smell of sugar and raspberries permeated the air. A gentle breeze washed over the room, at just the right temperature as not to be unpleasantly cold. Scout wondered if it was some kind of fancy air-conditioning - yet another luxury that RED was all too stingy on. A cursory glance down revealed two things: the first, that he had been sleeping on the contents of a jumbo-sized crate of marshmallows (that accounted for the smell, at least) and the second, that someone had taken his feet while he slept.

And his arms.

And given him two extra legs.

Which, come to think of it, was probably where his arms went.

That wasn't very reassuring, however.

"AAAAAAAAH!" shrieked Scout in horror. "WHERE ARE MY FEET? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SPY, WHERE ARE MY FEET?"

"Mon dieu..." muttered Spy, burying his chitinous head in an equally chitinous foreleg. "Scout, please calm down."

"Calm down? You stole my feet!"

"I said calm down." Upon seeing the lack of effect that this had on the quaking Scout, Spy changed tack. "Scout, if you will calm down, I will tell you where your feet are."

As his terrified squeakings diminished, Scout begin to run his eyes further over his body. Something was very wrong indeed. Someone, Demoman probably, had tattooed his class symbol on his ass while he had slept, and... where was his clothes? Was he naked? Oh God, Spy was in the same room as him - holy crap, wings! Freakin' sweet!

Spy watched in bemusement as the red-furred and brown-maned creature shook and fluttered various new parts of his anatomy.

"Ahem. Care to come to your senses?"

"Oh, right, yeah." Scout was abashed. "Sorry. But seriously, I've got wings!"

"Oui. You do. As do I," Spy responded, spreading an altogether more translucent pair of his own, which glowed with a faint red light. "Now zhat we have got zhe formalities over, would you care to know where we are?"

"Ain't it obvious? The Mann Co. crate depo, of course!"

"Some day, garçon, you will learn that not everything in zhe world is owned by Mann Co. Most things, oui. But not all. And zhis warehouse is most certainly not." Spy pointed to a label on the side of the marshmallow crate. Where Scout would have expected it to say something like Mann Marshmallows or Mannfectionary Co., there was instead a series of beautifully and ornately written gibberish. "Zhat is definitely not zhe Australian zhat is usually on zhe side of zhe crate. Note also zhe lack of Saxton Hale's portrait. Non, zhis is something else."

"Y'know," said Scout, who hadn't been paying attention, "You remind me of something familiar. I'm sure I've seen that kind'a bug before."

"One of your love interests?" Spy replied, with a roll of his glowing red eyes. Scout took no notice of the jibe, however, as his thoughts were on other things.

"Hmm. Normally, I'd be buzzing from a sugar overdose right now, but I think I crashed pretty recently and I'm finding it hard to think."

"Marshmallows are behind you." The red-and-brown thing nodded, then stuck his head into the crate. Ten seconds and a lot of slobbering noises later, Scout turned back with a pink ring around his mouth.

"Thanks. Now, let's see... glowing eyes, completely black, holes in legs, horn..." Scout trailed off. "No way."

"What?"

"No. Fricken'. Way."

"What is it, Scout?"

"YOU'RE A CHANGELING!" cried Scout with joy. "Holy crap, and I'm a pegasus! And that ain't a tattoo on my ass, it's a cutie mark!"

"...what zhe hell?"

"Which means..." Scout broke off again, elation rendering him momentarily unable to talk. "OMIGOD, WE'RE IN HORSETRALIA!"

"I will say again: what zhe hell?"

"You know, Horsetralia? From Saxton Hale's Pony Tales for Small Girls and Grown-Ass Men!" Spy sighed, burying his head in his foreleg once again.

"I do not believe zhe drivel you Americans watch. Or, for zhat matter, what zhe Australians peddle to you."

"Only 'cause you ain't a Grownie!" Scout started singing the theme under his breath. "I used to wonder what bodily harm could be, until you shared its magic with me..."

"Please shut up, s'il vous plaît." Spy breathed out, muttering something about Scout, his level of intelligence, and how it compared with a chimp's. "Look, surely you have noticed zhe absence of our team-mates. We are clearly on our own and vulnerable here, and I do not for a moment believe zhat zhese new bodies are versatile in combat. Attempting to make contact with zhe rest of zhe RED team should be our number one priority.

"Lighten up, Spy! It's Horsetralia! It's not like anything real bad's gonna happen."

"...why does zhat not reassure me?"