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Dispraiser's Comedies by Dispraiser
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A Halo Comedy (Very Original Title...)
Date: 2 June 2003, 1:30 AM
"So... The battle. It still continues?"
"I'm sorry sir, it looks like you knights are unskilled in the art of warfare."
"Silence! What's the score?"
"Well, blue team has eight members down, two remaining, and red team has... Ten members down, none remaining. How long has it been like that."
"Three hours, eighteen minutes. I've been waiting for someone to turn."
"What! You mean you knew and didn't tell me! I just wasted three hours of my life sitting here and you are telling me that I didn't have to!"
"Three hours isn't that much."
"It is when you..."he tunred on the viewscreen to reveal a fleets-worth of UNSC ships destroyed and some purple specs advancing from the distant stars, pulse laser blasts coursing everywhere. "Have under thirty minutes to live!" The Navigator yelled.
"Well I'll be... I thought I killed the purple one."
"You can't kill it. It was never alive. It's made of metal."
"Yes you can."
"No, you can't. Captain, what should I order the crew to do?"
"Order a fight to the death in the galley."
"I can't do that skipper, you know it."
"I know what?"
"Well, our galley was blasted out. We have a gaping HOLE IN THE SIDE OF OUR SHIP!"
"Damn pool games... Getting out of hand again I see..."
"No, that's their fault." The navigator extended a hand to the viewscreen, which showed a few Covenant warships blasting whatever remained of the small battlegroup.
"Visiting teams... No respect for the equipment because it's not on their dime."
An explosion coursed through the ship and a bloodcurdling scream of alarms roared deafeningly. Red light suddenly bathed the bridge.
"Red team! Victory!"
"No sir. Our team. Loss."
"Who said I was on Blue?"
"Well, actually, I meant that we were... You know, dead meat."
"Switch to the battlefield. See how the teams are faring." The camera changed, showing a darkened corridor with two men running through it. They carried a pack of paper and a small straw. Suddenly the walls exploded inwards, the teams disappearing in the fire and two golden Elites jumping through the wall out of a purple boarding craft.
"Hey skip. Did you notice something about the teams?", the Lieutenant said.
"What?"
"Look closely. Do those look like people to you?" The mandibles on one of the Elites twitched as it barked out some order in it's native tongue to a squad of Grunts that followed it out the small opening.
The Captain leaned towards the screen, squinting and held a hand up. He began to lower his fingers, looking first at the navigator, and lowing four fingers, then to the screen, lowing the four on his other hand. He looked back and fourth again, leaning back.
"Yep, they're human. I can tell by the way they have two arms and two legs." The captain smiled, proud of his achievement and raised his chin. The navigator hit the screen, pointing at the Elite.
"That sir, is the enemy. We know them as Elites. They may have arms and legs, just like us, but they are not like us. Look at how it is different from you or me."
"What? Don't be a racist Lieutenant. Just because he is yellow doesn't mean.." The navigator clutched his heart and fell to the ground violently, twitching. "What's wrong?" he waited for a few second, staring at the navigator as he began to turn pale. "Lieutenant? Crap." The captain ran to the wall and grabbed a small mallet, shattering the glass that contained his last lifeline. Below the window, which he had shattered, it said, "In case of dire emergency, break glass." The captain extracted simple black rod with a white tip, no longer than a half meter and stared in awe at it. His Magic Wand. He quickly ran to the collapsed navigator as the ship again rumbled and whined under stress from the damage and began to chant some lines. He snapped the wand downwards and waited for the navigator to arise from the dead. He stood waiting as another explosion course through the ship. Suddenly the viewscreen crackled on and one of the Golden Elite's faces appeared.
"Human, we have--"
"Wait, just a second, aren't you Human?"
"No, I'm an Elite, the one chosen by the Grunts to kick the crap out of them on a daily basis and beat the superior Hunters for their victories over scum like you."
"An Elite you say..." the captain scratched his chin, "How good are you at spitwad wars?"
"I have never participated in this event. Pathetic Human--"
"I'll bet you'd be great at it... You have this tings by your mouth, and they might help to get some extra... Vroom... When launching a spitwad."
"Right..." The Elite stood for a second thinking, "Alright Earth Human, I will join your team, but you see, there is the problem, your door is locked shut and I cannot get into the bridge to find your home, er, talk to you."
"How did a couple of nice people like you get locked out..." The Elite chuckled, looking at his friend. "Oh well, I'll need to get one of those lackeys from engineering up here tomorrow..." he pressed a few buttons and the door slid open. The Elite laughed and shot im in the chest, running to the navigational controller. "So does this mean you're on the team?" the Elite shot him again.
RedWireDew - A Halo Comedy
Date: 19 August 2003, 5:40 PM
"I've been thinking recently about stuff..." The captain muttered to the first officer.
"No kidding! I've been thinking about stuff too! Like the fucking aliens about to kick down the damn door and blow our heads off! We have to self destruct the ship."
"Your self esteem doesn't matter, we aren't letting this ship die."
"Stuff like what sir? " The ship rumbled as another plasma bombardment blasted out much of the holds.
"Stuff like.... Stuff... I don't know... Mountain Dew I think."
"Mountain Dew, sir? How about thinking about how you will never have another can of Mountain Dew if you go to hell for letting the Covenant find Earth!"
"Well... No.... I was thinking more along the lines that we should mix them all together. What is there, six kinds now?"
"Three sir. Been that way for 550 years."
"Yeah. Anyway, we need to mix the three. Livewire, the crappy red one and the original."
"Code red sir... Just like the damn ship! Last I heard boarding craft were leeching to the side of the ship."
"I hate leeches.... So anyway, we would need to come up with a name, so I made one. Mountain Dew, Code Redfire."
"What? How the hell did you get that name? Fire? And there is no reference to the good one, Livewire in there."
"Well.... Redwire?"
There was a long and inconvenient pause, "Redfire. Just like the damn fires in decks 3-7 that have killed 150!"
"Anyway, this would be the god of the Mountain Dew society, a perfect blend of the three. I would be the puppeteer controlling it all though, just like Bill Gates' evil robot twin. It controls the entire ONI organization." The Captain pressed the intercom button on the ship's control panel, "All hands, buy me some time, I have one last thing I want to do.... Oh, and officers, come to the bridge..." the captain flipped off the intercom, quickly realizing his mistake, "And the kitchen, bring the three kinds of Mountain Dew. On the double crewmen!"
"Why would it get to be the god sir? So you will have some false idol to pray to as we die?"
"Good god man! Pull yourself together! Lord Redfire will get us out of this mess!"
"Actually, sir, I think that there is nothing left for me to do. I can bitch all I like, but you will continue to kill the crew of this ship. I am just going to sit back and relax while we all die..."
"Well... I can do this without your help!"
The door suddenly hissed open. A dozen well armed Marines and crewmen stepped through the door and locked it shut.
"Guys, I have a question. You see, I'm mixing the three kinds of mountain dew, and I was wondering what you wanted to call it." The captain said.
"Sir! The Covenant are boarding the ship! Half of the crew has been slaughtered and more of the Covenant just keep coming! You have to--" a large ispanic commando said.
"Well, so anyway, I wanted to call it Redfire, but the idiot here got mad because of fire not being a part of any of the other words. So he said I should call it Redwire, but then--"
"Sir! Hundreds have died! You have to help us!"
"Don't interrupt me like that! Lord Redfire will help us! M Now, crewmen, marines, I need you to vote. You can be the Redwarriors that serve to defend the sacred planet of warfare, Lunar 4!"
"Sir!"
"That's it! Back out to the enemy dissident! None shall insult the great lord redfire!", the commando ran out the door. "Alright, the rest of you, you need to vote. Redwire or Redfire?"
6 Marines rose their hands for each. The Captain counted their hands for several minutes before coming to the conclusion that they were alike.
"Sir, the Covenant boarding parties have nearly killed all of the crew. We may be the only ones left, sir!"
"Don't you sir me boy! This ship isn't going down with Lord Codelive on it!"
"Isn't it redfire?" a crewman asked.
The wall suddenly exploded inward. Flaming shrapnel killed most of the marines and crewmen on the bridge. The original crewmen spoke his last words, "No sir, that is red fire, the flaming pieces of shrapnel that just killed a dozen of the UNSCs finest. Well skipper, I would like to congratulate you on killing us again. Third time's a charm."
"For Redfire!" the captain shouted, running to the front of the ship. He flipped open a small glass cover and pressed the red button within, "God bless the color Red!" Explosions ripped the ship apart.
The Man - A Halo Comedy
Date: 25 October 2003, 4:15 AM
"I've been thinking about stuff recently." The captain muttered.
"What kind of stuff Skip?" the radio operator replied.
"The meaning of life."
"Deep. Especially for you Skip. Know the meaning of death?"
"No. What?"
"To avoid them!" the radio operator pressed a button on the conrol panel and a viewscreen flickered to life. A Covenant fleet faded into existence, destroying one of the last remaining human defenders of Lunar 4.
"Them? Do you mean, "The Man"?"
"Skip, we've been over this before. There is no "man" in charge of everything. Even Lunar 4 is controlled by a fair democracy."
""The Man" made you say that. I forgive you."
"Alright sir, I apologize." The radio operator muttered meaninglessly, "But we have more pressing issues, like them." He gestured to the monitor, which displayed an increasing number of Covenant ships destroying one of the two Legacy Class Starships that continued to fight.
"Holy crap!" the Captain yelled, "It's back!"
"What! Sir, I'm giving the order to fire archer missile pods at it!"
"It's no use... I fought that beast for three hours in the bathroom this morning, and if it wasn't killed in the toilet I don't know what can..."
"Sir! Do you remember what I told you last time you tried to make a joke? No toilet jokes, no farting jokes, nothing that I won't laugh at."
"I know, I just thought it would be funny this time..."
"Was it funny last time?"
"No."
"The time before that?"
"No."
"The twenty times before that?"
"The first time was-" the captain saw the radio operator nodding a firm 'no', "No, it wasn't..."
"Sir, fire the missile pods?"
"What's the use... If no one laughs at my joke what purpose is there to life?"
"Sir, I'm firing the missile pods, with or without your consent." The radio operator rolled his chair to the AI's hologram projector, "Amy?"
"I'm here..." the AI replied. A 'gorgeous' fat chick AI appeared in the hologram field, the edge of its 'tummy' sliding off the podium. It wore a size 6 tube top and a miniskirt.
"Great."
"You know you want me!" the AI yelled, running around its projector.
"Alright, so anyways, I want you to fire archer missiles 1-17 at whatever Covenant ship gets closest."
"Great idea!"
"I hate you.", the radio operator replied, rolling back to the captain. "El Capitan! What's our next plan?"
"Plan? What plan? I don't have a plan! Why would you ever think I have a plan?" the Captain shouted. He muttered quietly under his breath "He knows too much. I have to kill him... But when..."
"Sir, let me reiterate. There is no 'man'"
"What? No, you said there was. You apologized for being one of his minions!"
"Sir, the man is a monster created in the minds of conspiracy nerds to scare gullible people like you."
"So wait, if I am gullible he will enter my mind and use me to project his evil!"
"No, sir..." the radio operator thought for a moment... "Actually, if you don't fire this ship's MAC cannons right now, he'll take your mind over and make you 'get intimate' with Amy."
"I heard that!" the AI yelled, "And Captain... The offer still stands."
The Captain shuddered, "Alright, you drive a hard bargain." The Captain walked to the intercom as the ship trembled, plasma gunfire breaking along the hull. "All hands, prepare the MAC cannon. Fire at the purple ones."
"Real professional Skip. Alright, here's The Man's next command. You have to learn to play a new game called 'The Man Says'. It's like Simon Says."
"Got it."
"Alright, the man says to bite your tongue as hard as you can."
The operator grinned as the Captain shrieked in pain. He was as loyal as he was gullible. "Okay, now, The Man says to make smart decisions regarding the future of this ship, and defeat the enemy ships."
"What!?! What enemy ships?"
"The purple ones sir."
The ship shook again as boarding crafts burrowed into the titanium armor. Alarms shrieked and guns roared immediately outside the bridge. The Radio operator sat in terror as he heard human screams flood the air. Suddenly, there was silence. The two watched the long hallway leading away from the bridge into the cafeteria, where the last fighting had occurred. An Elite emerged from the corner.
"Shut the doors! Shut the doors!" the Radar Operator yelled.
"The Man didn't say to!"
"Alright, the Man says, shut the doors!"
"Yes, sir!"
The door slammed shut mere feet from the Elite. It stood outside the window watching.
"Sir, we need to destroy the ship."
"What! I was just about to figure out the meaning of life. I think it has something to do with choices, and-"
"The big red button, now! The Man says to!"
"Which big red button?"
"The ONLY big red button."
"Oh, right."
The ship exploded in a fiery ball, dying with it humanities fattest AI, dumbest captain, and most patient crewman.
Red Fraction - A Halo Comedy
Date: 1 November 2003, 2:12 AM
"I've been thinking about stuff recently." the Captain's voice echoed.
"What kind of stuff, sir?" the navigator replied.
"About that big guy, what's his name..."
"Godzilla?"
"No, no, that other guy, the tough one..."
"Bizzarro Superman?"
"No, he was eight feet tall and wore green armor."
"Oh, Master Chief!"
"Yeah... Well, we got him on the ship."
"Oh sweet salvation! Captain, I don't see how you could possibly fuck this one up! With him on our side-"
"Oh, wait, no, I got his little brother."
"Captain... Let me show you this most disturbing demographic." The crewman changed the screen from its normal view of the Covenant starships fighting with the last remaining humans to a pie chart. The red section was around four times the size of the blue, and an insignificant yellow wedge filled the rest of the area. "As you can see, 77% of the crew is supportive of having you beaten to death. They've even gone to the liberty of making a raffle to see who gets to kill you, and preparing the gymnasium for a fight to the death. 15% are loyalists, but would not die for you. They would join in with the reds. The last eight percent answered by asking if this was a drug test, and saying that they would not pee in a jar because they were at least 25% they weren't stoned. Sir, you do realize that this ship hates you. Do you know why?"
"Because they're jealous of my great personality?"
"No, sir, they hate you because you're an idiot. You have doomed us all, again. I doubt you could get this ship to invade anything. Hell, I don't think you could lead us to invade our way out of a paper bag!"
"What's this blasphemy! Call up the cryobay! Tell them to wake up our old 'friend'!"
"Aye aye Skipper." The crewman activated the intercom, "Sailors, 'Unbolt the Locked Casket'"
Deep in cryo-command two crewman talked about the new order, "Has he gone loco!?!"
"I don't know, but I don't wanna be around to find out!"
"Doesn't he remember what happened last time we let him out?"
"Would it really make a difference? Get to the gym. It's time."
The Petty officer climbed from his confining cryotube. He quickly acquainted himself. It seemed as if the cryobay monitors were working on assembling weapons for a reenactment of a medieval battle or something. The Petty Officer treated this as nothing and continued to the bridge. Something was awry, and the Petty Officer was mad.
"So, I ran for the door, grabbed my clothes and leapt into my car right has I heard rifle-fire. Needless to say, I'll never get let back into Thailand." The crewman ended his tale. Everyone in the bridge laughed, except for the solemn, faceless soldier in the door.
"What's this inefficiency? This is a combat zone! Act like Marines!"
"We're Navy sir." The Crewman replied.
"Lazy sons of bitches... Captain Dorman." The petty officer reached out and shook the Captain's hand. Immediately after shaking hands they hit fists in a variety of ways and wiggled their fingers away from eachother. The crewman and Amy, the obese AI stared, on in confusion.
"Good to see you, Petty Officer."
"I can't return the same respect Dorman. Or shall I say... Norman."
The Captain choked on his Chocolate Vanilla Extract, spitting across the controls. The viewport turned to static. "Nice work Skip! Now I can't watch TV. "
"Bah, 501 tactical cameras, nothing good on. So anyways, Petty Officer, nice to see you. The Covenant have finally come, and will be boarding the ship at any moment. I need you to take Amy, the ship's AI, and keep it safe."
Suddenly a vastly obese AI appeared. It wore a tiny tube top and a miniskirt. "If I wasn't so sure you were gay Captain, I'd think you were coming onto me."
There was an inconvenient silence, "She's nicer once you get to know her."
"I'll get to know you Captain..."
The Captain shuddered. He had almost learned his lesson... "So, Petty Officer, this is our AI, Amy. Get used to her, she'll be living in your head until you die. In which case she'll still be living in your head... But you won't know it... So anyways, pop open the helmet, we're putting her in!"
Petty Officer Jon 343 sighed and pushed a button on his helmet to open the tiny cube drive.
"Ready?" the Captain asked the balloon-esque AI.
"Ready... Yank me!" the AI replied. The Captain reached for the tiny datacube. He grabbed it loosely and tried to lift it, his fingers slipping. He stumbled, surprised and humiliated, and confused, grabbed the cube again, and pulled against it with all of his might. The Captain was no weak man, but he could barely make the tiny cube budge.
"Jesus Amy, what have you been eating?"
"What are you, kidding? I'm not fat, those are love handles Captain! You know you want this."
The Captain coughed in disgust. "Crewman, come over here, help me out with this." The Navigator stood to assist him.
The two of them struggled to lift the obese AI's data cube, and managed to carry it to the Petty officer, and slide it into his head. Suddenly he snapped to life.
"My... God..." the Petty Officer fell limp to the ground.
"What just happened? Petty Officer! Are you okay?" the Captain shouted.
"So... Gross... My head is full of... Amy... Captain, hand me your pistol!"
The Captain complied. Immediately the Petty Officer spun the pistol around to his face and clicked the trigger a half dozen times with no results. "I don't keep it loaded. You'll need to find ammo as you go along..."
"What! Damn it! You keep a gun loaded when evil aliens are going to board your ship! I'll just have to do it the hard way..." The Petty Officer sighed and began to smash his helmet on the wall.
"Aye! The Captain is running this ship into the ground, mate!" a soldier shouted over the talking of a thousand confused soldiers who had been ordered to the hangar to gather empty pop cans and return them at a dime a piece, because 'after the ship was overrun the captain could never get his bottle return, and that's just wasted money'.
"Big surprise!" another replied.
Suddenly the door cracked open, a god-like light bleeding around the figure of a single man. "Brothers and sisters of the Red portion of the pie chart! It is time! To the gym! All gather for the Red Fraction uprising!"
"Right... Well, so much for humanities' last hope. I heard his older brother, John-117, has some potential. Think he'll turn out?"
"Humanity depends on one of em living. I'll email Keyes to tell him to get Cortana looking better for the Chief. She's huge, like, 400 pounds... I'll send her a few Subway cards too..."
Suddenly the door exploded into the bridge. The smoking, flaming door skidded to a stop. As the smoke cleared an angry mob was revealed. At least a hundred crewmen stormed the bridge and stood in the door waving torches.
"Careful sir." The Navigator whispered to the Captain, "They have mastery of fire. Fire good."
"What do they want?" the Captain asked.
"We have come for you Captain! The time has come!" the leader of the rebellion yelled.
"Hey, you're that guy from cryobay! Remember my question?"
"No... I don't recall, what was it?"
"I was wondering... What happens if you fart while you get frozen?"
"TAKE HIM TO THE GYM!"
Five minutes later the stadium was lined with shouting crewman, and in the center of the pit stood the Captain. He didn't know why, but for some reason they were cheering. Granted he was their Captain, he hadn't said anything or done anything that would lead them to cheer. "They really love me..." muttered the Captain...
A booming voice echoed through the rafters of the gym, "Release the lions!"
Orange Peanuts - A Halo Comedy
Date: 4 November 2003, 4:12 AM
The last in my binge of comedies, I promise... My next two submissions will be the conclusion of Derailed... Sorry this one is late for Halloween...
"I've been wondering about things lately." The captain
"What the fuck have you been wondering about sir? I'm starting to get pissed off." The radar operator replied.
"Well, to start out with I was wondering why I wonder, but then I figured out that I was-" suddenly a doorbell rang.
"Sir..." the Captain stopped, "Careful. Don't answer it."
"Why?"
"Because..." the radar operator whispered, "Them..."
"What?"
"Look on the viewscreen sir." The Captain looked at the screen, curious.
"What?"
"The purple ships! Enemies! Killed billions, destroyed half of the UNSC conglomerate, is killing our friends and family as we speak..."
"It's just a game. Probably just the born on boards trick or treating."
"Sir, I will assure you, they are very real."
"What's real? The born on boards? I know."
The radar operator sighed, muttered a few curses, and began to activate the AI. At least, he figured, it could make a coherent thought. The crewman couldn't help but wonder how the Captain had earned his rank. Generally, he came to the conclusion that in a past life he had tortured a few thousand souls, and now he was paying for it with this horrible damnation. The Captain answered the door, and the crewman noticed and odd coincidence, the Captain was dressed as the Devil. Odd.
"Trick or treat!!" two born on boards yelled. The exited youths wore very plain costumes, one a mime and the other the simple monster of Jason fame. The two held rucksacks eagerly forward, each sagging with the weight of a mass of candy. Their smiles soon faded, however, as two orange peanuts dropped into their bags. They pretended to smile as the foam-like lumps dropped into the bags, though inside they were filled with emotions of hate and lust for revenge. This was not a Halloween treat, this was a dishonor.
"My favorite!" the Captain said with far too much zeal.
"Screw you! Come on Scott, let's go get some real candy!" the Jason imposter said.
"Yeah, we'll be back!"
"Wait! Don't leave! That is real candy! You can have some more!" the Captain shouted.
"Skip, I don't think they-" the radar operator muttered, interrupted by the Captain.
"I give those out every Halloween. Back on terra firma they're so hot that some of the kids light them on fire and throw them back, a testimony of-"
The Radar operator decided it was his turn to interject, "Captain, I remember going trick-or-treating, and I remember getting one of those orange lumps of crap. I never ate them. I lit them on fire, and threw them at people's houses."
"So you liked them?"
"Sir. No."
"Well, then, I guess someone-" Suddenly the window exploded into the bridge, a brick smashing through the door. "Holy crap!" the captain yelled, "That was supposed to be bulletproof!"
"Sir, why would anyone throw a brick at you?"
"This was a crime of hate. I distinctly remember those two saying they hated you as they left."
"Okay, look at the note on the brick."
"Alright," the Captain replied, lifting the crimson brick and pulling the tiny white sheet of paper from it, "It says, 'We'll be back, Signed, The BOBs."
"Well, looks like you're gonna get some vandalism. If I remember right it starts with the mailbox." There was a suddenly crack outside.
"What can I do to stop this?"
"Make an offering. Leave some real candy outside in a bowl and hope they leave. Full size, or they hurt you."
"Those clever bastards..." Amy echoed. Everyone turned to the gluttonous AI, "They're using world renowned tactics to extort candy from the commander of the eighty second most powerful ship in the Navy, the three hundredth best maintained and the second weakest commanded, the Iroquois your only competition, you aren't telling me you're going to give up!"
"Yeah! Remember the Alamo!" the Captain shouted.
"Sir, let me remind you about something... Granted that the Texans made a great last stand, they lost."
"Oh... Remember... The other side of the Alamo!"
"Well, in the Alamo's battle they had rifles, not-"
"That can be fixed. Amy, get a few ODSTs up here, on the double."
"God damn it! Are you about to turn armed Marines on some idiot kids who just want some candy? Look, you started this, it's up to you to end it."
"You're right! Amy, the Scorpion MBT, think we could fit on in the bridge?"
"Well, sir," the AI replied, "Physically we could fit one in, but the backblast and time of assembly would be incredible."
"Alright then, we'll fight em on foot."
"Well, sir, might I advise a Warthog? The chaingun has great anti-infantry capabilities and it has the agility of a Liger Timu and Gazellalope put together."
"Excellent. How's the air support situation?" the Captain replied.
"Captain, let me interrupt. I'd like to present a valid opinion-" the Radar operator began, interrupted by the Captain.
"Shut up, no one cares what you think, I'm the only one that matters." Amy coughed, "And Amy."
"Sir, with no respect, I believe you are unfit to lead this ship, and, as is presented in Article 13 of the Confederation of Starships, it is my right and duty as ranking official of the command crew to take control of the ship."
"Amy. Impotize."
"Aye, aye Captain." Amy replied, a holographic pole appearing in her projection area. The Radar operator screamed in terror, and the Captain looked away. Suddenly a white orb danced into the room, tumbling towards the Captain's face. It exploded on his cheekbone, yolk flying through the air, the Captain screaming.
"RETURN FIRE!" the Captain shouted. Hew as the only one who could do anything to affect the physical world or that could do anything, and managed to hurl an assortment of office supplies through the hallway. "Take that savages." The Captain said before sneaking to the door and pressing the close button. It slammed shut as the Captain turned to Amy. She had returned to her idle state, and was sitting around, pulsating like the queen bee. The crewman insubordinate lie on the ground, twisting and thrashing, holding his crotch. It was brutal work being the commander of a ship, but it had to be done. "Amy, I need a status update, how's the defensive formation's assembly?"
"Well, ground forces should be arriving in a few moments, but we're having a hard time stabilizing the supply line that was giving us the Warthog."
"Alright. Propaganda?"
"Already spreading it. We drugged the cafeteria's food and put the subliminal messages in every product on store shelves. Within a week everyone should be conformist slaves."
"Great. Any intel on the enemy?"
"Well, they've been busy too. Rumor has it that they have recruited others to aid in the coming attacks, some of the BOB clans merging."
"Great. How'd they follow us all the way from Reach?"
"Well, to be honest with you sir, I'm not sure what you're talking about, but for the sake of the reference, no one could have missed the whole my appearance tore in subspace."
The door suddenly slid open, a squad of ODSTs running into the room, taking defensive positions behind desks and whatever cover they could find.
"Have they been briefed?"
"I thought I'd leave that to you, sir."
"Alright. ODSTs, I don't care if you're gods own anti-vandal machine or just some gigantic flying squad of cowards, but those little brats out there are crawling over each other to try to take my candy, and I can guarantee you one thing, we won't let them have it! What we will give them though, is a belly full of lead, and two cars in every garage! Am I right Marines!?!" the captain shouted.
"Sir, no, sir!" one of the ODSTs shouted.
"Amy, impo-"
"Sir, you're telling us we have to kill something that sounds utterly human. What are we firing at?"
"Trick or treaters. Don't worry, they aren't people, they're just little kids. They're machines."
"Sir, we can't fire at innocent children, this plan's insane!"
"Innocent!?! These monster's are the ones who made Norman a dirty word! They aren't people, they're monsters! If you won't kill them then I will!" The doorbell rang, "Just a second, let me get that."
The Captain opened the door to reveal a Golden Elite. He paused, "And what are you dressed up as?"
"Kree!", The Elite replied.
"Ah. Want some orange peanuts?"
"What the fuck are you thinking? I come from another fucking planet where we don't even have fucking candy, and I know not to give out the orange peanuts. You know what, this means holy war. I mean, first you try to give out the orange peanuts then you have the audacity to say I'm dressed up as something? I mean, I take offense to that! What are you dressed up as, a big nerd? Huh? How do you like that? Whatever, anyways, the great Pumpkin Prophet sent me with a message for you, apparently some BOBs came to him. Your destruction is the will of the Halloween gods, and I am their instrument!" The Elite talked surprisingly calmly before flashing his sword on, and sliced the Captain in half. The ODSTs opened fire on the Elite, though it quickly tore through most of them. With his last breath the Captain hit the self destruct button as his ship blossomed into an orange, peanut shaped explosion.
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