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Holy Halos!
Posted By: WeaseL!<CrouchingWeasel@aol.com>
Date: 3 October 2003, 12:13 AM
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"Halo… it's finished," Cortana said, softly.
"Yeah, I'd say so," the Master Chief replied, walking back to his chair. Cortana gave him a look of puzzlement. This wasn't right somehow. She accessed the downloaded files in her A.I. database.
"Let's see," She thought.
"Cortana?" said the Master Chief. Lost in thought, She ignored him.
"Childhood memories of Subject 117? No, not quite… photos from Private Chipps Dubbo's physical exam? Um, no… aha! Bungie's scripts! Accessing…"
"Cortana…"
She had found them. The level transcripts, straight off of Halo-dot-Bungie-dot-Org.
"Ha! See, Chief, you were supposed to be all like, 'No, I think we're just getting started,' at which point…"
Master Chief unscrewed his helmet, making him slightly dizzy, and set it on his lap. "What? That ring was blown into its component atoms. You saw that blast! Come on, now- that one piece flew waaaaay across to the other side and- 'blammo!' smashed right through the thing. I mean, what's that thing made of? You know, that weird alien alloy stuff? Never mind."
Cortana rambled on. Unfortunately, Master Chief could not hear her, due to the fact that she was plugged into his helmet, which he then threw to the copilot seat. He walked toward the emergency provisions locker and in a ferocious rage driven by a sudden, mysterious, unexplained hunger, tore the door from its hinges to find several small silver vacuum-packed pouches.
"Ah, holy halos, Cortana- I hate this astronaut food," he whined to Cortana, who had somehow found her way out of his helmet and into the Longsword's computer.
"Which is why I took the liberty of packing Capri Suns in your lunch," Cortana said. The Chief took out a silver pouch and turned it around to see some poorly animated half-naked woman. Reminded him of Cortana, except this one was windsurfing. Out of nowhere came the sound of drums usually following a comedian's joke.
In that very same ferocious rage driven by that sudden, mysterious, unexplained hunger, he ripped the small yellow straw from the back and then extremely, meticulously, carefully, he gently placed it through the foil circle thingy at the top. He took a sip, and proceeded to then carefully place the rest of the liquid in his shortly cut hair. He rinsed, lathered and repote. "Repote" was a word that he had created long ago, in the back of a Pelican, hitching a ride from Foe Hammer. It was the past tense form of the word "repeat." Once finished with the process, he once more rinsed, lathered, and repote. Cortana looked at him extremely strangely, figuring he did this on a regular basis.
The Chief returned her glance. "What? You think I've showered since that coolant leak in Level Nine?" Another sound of those drums came from nowhere.
Now, before I continue with this story, perhaps I shall give you some background. In the year 1997, as you may or may not recall, depending on the accuracy of your long-term memory, a really, really good banana (When I say really, really good, I mean really, really good. Just ask a monkey!) belonging to a highly innocent monkey residing in the beautiful London Zoo made history. It became the first banana to ever enter a wormhole and travel through multiple dimensions of time and space. Now, you may not especially care about this (at least not yet, you might) but the monkey, as you can imagine, was very upset with the whole thing.
Suddenly, the Master Chief slipped on a small yellow object that had materialized on the floor. He fell to the ground. His noggin, unprotected by a helmet, received a minor concussion.
* * *
The Master Chief woke up roughly three and a half milliseconds later. He recalled having an extremely long dream about a monkey. He looked at the titanium floor of the cockpit to find the criminal who had chopped him down like a logger in the forest: a very well-traveled fruit rind. He very much wanted to unload a clip or two at it of shredder rounds from his standard, government-issue MA5B assault rifle, but that could breach the hull. He didn't really want to breach the hull.
Seconds later, the banana peel, the rifle, the emptied Capri Sun packet, the food locker door, the little penguin key chain of the Longsword's keys, the magical drum set, and the Master Chief were sucked into the vacuum of space through a hole in the floor, about the size of a bullet hole.
The End.
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