Halo 2 - The REAL Ending Part 1
Posted By: Conrad Lauf<email@example.com>
Date: 19 April 2005, 7:50 AM
"Master-chief, you mind telling me what you're doing on that ship?"
"Sir. Finishing this fight."
"Oh, OK, please continue then."
"Thank you sir."
The Master-chief sat back down and picked up the Xbox 100 controller. He was finding it hard concentrating on the game he was playing however, not just because of the sounds of the Forerunner's ship's engines, but because he knew he was supposed to be doing something important, but he just couldn't remember what it was. But wait, he suddenly remembered what his mission was.
A bright idea flashed in his mind, temporarily blinding him.
Why not find a copy of Halo 3 and see how he got off the ship and saved humanity? It was a brilliant idea, but it was a pity no-one was around to hear it. Usually the Master-chief's ideas involved blowing the crap out of everything with a ship's core reactor or something, and even then he usually just played out the physical part of the plans, and Cortana was always the brains behind them.
But back to the story.
The Master-chief had once seen an early trailer for Halo 2, in which he opened the airlock of a space-station and blasted himself down on to the top of a Covenant cruiser in space. Even though he had already done it in the first level of the now-horribly ancient game of Halo 2, he decided to be extremely boring and repetitive and do it again. He knew that if he could do it in the trailer, he could certainly do it in real life.
Walking over to the airlock of the Forerunner ship, and to the pleas and screams of the Bungie cinematic team that were in the same room filming him for a cut-scene, the Master-chief proceeded to open the airlock, forgetting that he was the only one who possessed a slick set of armour that would allow him to survive in space. Instantly the Spartan was yanked out of the ship into the black void, along with many innocent law-abiding video-game makers.
As he fell towards the shell-shocked planet of Earth, the Master-chief suddenly realized that even though in the trailer he was last seen falling towards the roof of a Covenant cruiser, he wasn't seen actually landing on it. Come to think of it, in the trailer it looked as though he was going to miss the roof completely.
A Longsword pilot tapped his co-pilot on the shoulder and pointed out to the right-hand side cockpit window.
"Isn't that the Master-chief out there?" he asked, partially to himself.
The co-pilot leaned across, raised his visor and squinted.
"Do you mean the tiny green figure trying desperately to swim freestyle upwards in space, or the floating body of that storyboard artist?"
"The tiny green figure."
"Well strike me down and call me unconscious, I think it is the Chief. Do you think we should pick him up? He looks like he could use our help."
"Well, ethically we should pick him up, but then again, he still hasn't paid me the eight dollars I bet him if he could lift up eighteen ATVs at once with one hand..."
"I thought you bet him three grand."
"I did, and even though I won the bet, I felt bad about taking it afterwards, with him moaning and writhing on the ground because of a broken spine or something, so I gave him back some money to pay for an operation."
"That was mighty kind of you, Bill."
"Why thank you Robert."
"I think we should pick him up though, otherwise the rest of this short story is going to just be about us talking about the weather and our personal lives in our cockpit, and when the Chief dies we'll get our asses kicked by the Covenant."
"Good point, let's go get him."
The Master-chief rocked himself back and forth again as his body was wracked by a cold chill. The two Longsword pilots had aimed and fired a grappling hook towards him from their ship, and had then reeled him in. The three of them now stood in the cramped cockpit of the fighter.
"Are you sure you don't want a blanket sir?" asked one of the pilots, the one named Bill.
"Yeah, I'm fine thanks."
Bill leaned over to Robert and remarked, "Who would have guessed that under his helmet the Chief looks exactly like Bruce Campbell with a crew-cut?"
"I know, it's been bugging me since we picked him up," replied Robert, as the Chief doubled over again with an enormous sneeze.
"You have no idea how many people say that to me. God, Cortana gave me so much hell over it in the Longsword after the original Halo was destroyed along with the Pillar of Autumn."
"OK, this conversation is kinda starting to trail off from planning attack strategies and beginning to focus more on the Master-chief's facial similarity to the actor Bruce Campbell. Can we please get back to focusing on the whole point of this conversation, discussing tactics as to destroying that Prophet and his ship?" asked Bill, sighing with boredom and looking at his watch.
The Master-chief put his index finger to his chin and thought for a second. After five seconds he opened his mouth to speak.
"Well, I think it would be a good idea, seeing as people are only reading this story to see some good action sequences and a classy storyline, and so far this waste of virtual ink has none of that, and since the author has had a massive migraine and is currently passed out on the floor of his bedroom from trying to think of an ending for this first chapter, I guess we'd better do that. Let's get working."
TO BE CONTINUED...WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT. SO THIS STORY WILL MOST LIKELY NEVER BE FINISHED.
If you liked this bizarre first installment of my whacked-with-a-random-stick story, you need help. Psychiatric help.
Seriously, if you want to see this story continued, then simply give me good comments, and I'll try my best to try and finish it. Feel free to give me negative feedback, but just don't be surprised if you find your convertible's tires slashed tomorrow morning.
Thank you and have a good day,