It was another Friday night at the bar, and the rivalry between Air Force’s Eagle Eye and Navy’s Sam SEAL was in full swing, as usual. They were both Special Operators in their respective domains, and though they had mutual respect, their egos were as big as the sky Eagle Eye soared through and the ocean Sam SEAL glided beneath.

“So, how’s it feel knowing you can’t swim without wearing floaties?” Eagle Eye quipped, leaning back smugly in his chair. He liked to remind Sam that air was his domain, while Sam was stuck under water like a soggy sponge.

Sam, never one to back down, took a long, dramatic sip of his drink before grinning. “Better than being a glorified pigeon with night-vision goggles,” he shot back. “Last time I checked, catching fish required skill. Meanwhile, you’re still trying to outsmart radar dishes.”

The banter was non-stop. It had been like this ever since that one mission, where Eagle Eye had done a high-speed flyby, startling some local wildlife. Sam SEAL, who’d been in the middle of a “stealthy” extraction of an unsuspecting bunny (training exercise, don’t ask), had nearly gotten a mouthful of dirt when the rabbit bolted at the sound of Eagle Eye’s roaring jet.

“Speaking of radar,” Eagle Eye added, “I noticed your last swim mission involved, what was it, two guppies and a goldfish? Big catch there, Moby Dick.”

Sam chuckled. “Sure, laugh it up. But while you’re up there circling around in your fancy cockpit, I’m actually in the action. Ever tried sneaking up on anything in the air? Oh wait, you haven’t, because you’re busy napping on autopilot.”

Eagle Eye raised an eyebrow. “Autopilot, huh? Better than needing a nap after every swim. Last time I saw you on a mission, you were dragging seaweed behind you like a bad prom dress.”

The bartender, now familiar with their antics, just shook his head. “You two are like an old married couple.”

Sam leaned in, grinning. “The difference between us, Eagle, is that while you’re busy birdwatching at 30,000 feet, I’m down where it’s real—silent, unseen, hunting my prey. Meanwhile, you’re playing peek-a-boo with clouds.”

Eagle Eye smirked. “Sure, sure. But the last time you tried to chase your ‘prey,’ I heard you nearly drowned in a kiddie pool.”

The two burst into laughter, clinking their glasses together. Because at the end of the day, whether it was in the air or under the water, there was no denying that they were both the best in their own fields. Even if one field was filled with fluffy clouds and the other smelled like fish.