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"This is so stupid."
"But awesome."
"No, just stupid."
"C'mon, Yance. You can't tell me you don't think this is just a little bit awesome."
"I'm just saying that this could be considered a misappropriation of PPDC resources."
"Hey, Marshal Pentecost wanted us to practice coordination, remember?"
"I don't think this is what he had in mind."
"Then he should have been more specific. Tendo, you there?"
"Better hurry, Gipsy Danger. Marshal Pentecost is out right now, but he'll be back soon."
"We'll be done by then. Hit it, Tendo."
-----
Tendo Choi paused in the doorway to adjust his bowtie and run a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door of Marshal Stacker Pentecost's office. He'd been expecting this for quite some time. The only question now was, what mood was the Marshal in?
The Beckett brothers were already standing at attention in front of the Marshal's desk when Tendo walked in. The young Jaeger technician stood next to the two brothers as the stern-looking man finished watching something on the computer screen on his desk. Tendo glanced over at the two brothers. Raleigh's face was an expressionless mask, with just a hint of barely controlled amusement. Yancey looked disgusted and tired.
Finally, Marshal Pentecost tapped a few controls on his touchscreen and turned the computer around to face the three younger men.
"Mister Choi," Stacker Pentecost said, his deep, baritone voice calm and level. "Can you tell me what this is?"
". . . it's a Youtube video, sir."
"A Youtube video. And can you tell me what is appearing in this Youtube video?"
". . . that's Gipsy Danger, Marshal."
". . . and what is Gipsy Danger doing, Mister Choi?"
". . . it appears to be dancing, sir. Specifically, sir, it is doing the Macarena."
"The Macarena. I see. And what is Gipsy Danger doing now?"
". . . I believe it's called the Hand Jive, Marshall Pentecost."
". . . and now?"
". . . it doesn't have a name, sir, but I think people call it the 'Caramelldansen.'"
Stacker Pentecost nodded once, then turned the screen back around. His eyes locked into the image of a two-thousand ton Jaeger holding its massive hands above its conn-pod like a child pretending to be a kitty cat or a bunny rabbit, then waving its hands back and forth while swaying to the beat of an old Euro-pop song that sounded like a chipmunk on nitrous oxide squeaking out incomprehensible lyrics in some sort of European language.
"Mister Beckett. . ."
"Sir!" Yancey and Raleigh said in unison.
". . . Mister Beckett the senior. Do you have any explanation for this?"
". . . training exercise, sir."
"Training exercise."
"We were told that as part of our next live-fire training exercise, we should work on our coordination, sir. It was suggested to me," (Yancey carefully avoided mentioning just who had made the suggestion), "that dancing might not be a bad way to do so. Establishing coordination between right and left hemisphere in performing a dance movement would help to maintain coordination between the two sides of the Jaeger. Sir."
Marshall Pentecost nodded slowly, his dark eyes locked onto the image of Gipsy Danger moving on to do something that, according to the captions on the bottom of the screen, was called "The Numa Numa Dance." Finally, the older military man sighed, ran a hand over his forehead, and leaned back in his chair.
"Actually, Misters Beckett, I think you have a point here."
"Sir?" Raleigh was the one to reply, his eyebrow quirked quizzically.
"You're right. Dancing would be a perfect way to help Jaeger crews to coordinate. And as the persons who came up with this idea, I'm appointing you in charge of disseminating this training method to the other Rangers." Marshall Pentecost handed two slips of yellow paper over to the two brothers. "Here are your duty assignments. Starting tomorrow at 0600 hours, you will lead every Ranger at this Shatterdome in a rendition of the training exercises you have demonstrated in this video. I am putting you in charge of making sure that every Ranger is familiar with these maneuvers by the end of the week. Do you have any questions?"
Tendo winced inwardly at the thought of gruff, angry Hercules Hansen being asked to do the "I'm a Little Teapot" dance as part of his morning calisthenics. From the brothers' expressions, they were both imagining similarly dire situations, but neither Ranger allowed themselves any further protest, aside from a low, "Yes, Marshal."
"Dismissed. Except you, Mister Choi. You can stay here."
Yancey and Raleigh turned to leave the office, leaving Tendo Choi behind. Marshal Pentecost waited until the two brothers had left before sighing and leaning back in his chair. "What were you thinking, Tendo?"
"Honestly, Marshal? I thought it was pretty funny," Choi replied.
Marshal Pentecost shook his head. "It's been up for less than twelve hours and it already has over ten thousand hits," he said glumly.
"Cheer up, Marshal," Tendo said. "It's not the end of the world."
"Get out of my office before I hit you," Pentecost growled.