Shephard would pay to see the way Voodoo goes ass-over-teakettle into the room, an arrow mark on his ass and a cut on the right buttcheek of his pants. There's no graceful landing here, either - he sprawls facefirst onto the floor.

Shephard would likely pay double to see the way Voodoo scrambles to unbuckle his helmet and toss it aside before propping himself up on his elbows and-

-well. He hasn't eaten in a while, so there's no real chunky parts to it, and while it's nothing like out of Team America, it's...a couple hours' worth of bile?

He still has the presence of mind to not fall into said puke, mind.