Merc: Excuse me, sir; do you have any fabric soft - hey, you work for Third Echelon, right?
Spy: Yeah - so that would make you a mercenary for Team Upsilon, then.
Merc:...
Spy: Boy, this is awkward... how's the neck?
Merc: Oh, it's fine. Except I can't feel my left elbow sometimes.
Spy: Sorry. Just doing my job.
Merc: Just what is your job, anyway?
Spy: Oh it's pretty standard spy stuff, really. We infiltrate your buildings in teams of three and hack your corporate computers for secrets.
Merc: Those Victoria's Secret files? Not mine.
Spy: Not those kind of secrets. Anyway, is that what the three of you Mercs are always looking at with your flashlights?
Merc: Very funny. We are looking for any of you would-be Hacky McGees - and if you get found, you get shot, buster.
Spy: You'll never see me in my black spy jumpsuit, anyway.
Merc: Is that what that fancy leotard thing is? I thought you were a ballerina or something.
Spy: Nope, standard issue. Cold wash only, though. You only make that mistake once.
Merc: I'll take my assault rifle any day. Magazine fed, full-auto capability with sniper scope... her name is Bertha.
Spy: You clearly have issues. We don't carry weapons.
