Gibbs tripped.
He tended to trip on everything it was possible to trip on, and even some things it wasn't possible to trip on. As he hit the ground, his briefcase fell from his hand and hit the ground hard, spinning away. It did not come open. In fact, no one had ever seen it opened before.
Gibbs rubbed his side, which still ached from the last time he had fallen, then slowly got up and made his way over to the briefcase. After fumbling with it and dropping it once more, he managed to pick it up and stroll away from the scene, little the worse for wear. Quellion choosing me to hunt the rebels? Gibbs thought. Ridiculous. No one needs a duralumin misting for anything. It's like having a--
Just then, Gibbs's foot hit another rock. The briefcase did not open this time, either.
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Lopen because he sounds like he's trying too hard to sound like a villager.