Espera worries there's an RPG unit in the town, and stresses that his concerns are, by comparison, reasonable. Then everybody's shouting: Pappy's asking Nate if he wants a sniper team to set up for the imaginary RPG unit, and Captain America's screaming Nate's name over and over for no goddamn reason ("Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate! Nate!") and Nate's about had it, so he turns to Brad. Wouldn't you? "Push security out farther. Let's make the best of this." The teams mobilize.
Mere centimeters away, Encino Man slowly pulls out his phone. "I'm gonna call this one in right now," he says, and Smoosh-Face goes, "Sir, that's a cunt hair over 200 meters, sir. That's danger close for artillery." Encino Man does that Caveman Lawyer thing where it's like he's trying to decipher a strange new culture: "Danger close?" He talks so slow sometimes when he's confused, it's like Swamp Thing. Clayface is super sad, and finally pulls out Obvious Words For Dummies or something and shows it to him: "Sir, 'danger close' is an artillery strike within 600 meters of a friendly position." Somebody points that he's talking about "us," there, and Face is all, "200 meters ... That's pretty much on top of our heads." Encino Man tries desperately to understand. Doc Bryan gets his face all in his big dumb grill: "You dumb motherfucker, sir, even the most boot-fucked Marine knows danger close." Casey Kasem, Springfield's answer to a question no one asked, starts screaming all Sixta-style: "You're way outta line!"
Nate comes running up and asks what the fuck is going on and why Encino Man hasn't been on comms for the last five things that happened that were actually real and not totally in his stupid fucked up head. "I'm calling in a fire mission," Encino Man says, perseverating on the last words his crumpled Vegemite were able to grasp. "Sir, I don't like this," Doc says quietly. "These two get their fucking heads together ... It's fucking dangerous. It's the oldest play in the book, officers calling in danger close fire missions to get medals." Casey Kasem keeps screaming about protocol and how Fick needs to put the guys on lockdown and NJP them and whatever, and Nate ignores him, grabbing the phone. Encino Man, if the reflexes in his brain were working correctly, would totally grab it back, but instead they're both left holding it lamely. If Encino Man had a tail, it would have its own brain.