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Orange Peanuts - A Halo Comedy
Posted By: Dispraiser<dispraiser@netzero.net>
Date: 4 November 2003, 4:12 AM


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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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