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One fine day, a Grunt was walking. This was, in and of itself, quite a feat, due to the fact that the grunt had recently participated in a wrestling match with a hunter, and was off to see the chiropractor. Then, a thought came to the grunt... "I'm on Halo," he thought, "no chiropractors on Halo."
So instead of his original plans to visit the doctor and then take a relaxing day resting and then preparing a nice dinner for his family, he had to take other action. Lady luck was smiling upon him as he found Bob 'Jomee, his resident elite-in-chief. "Hey, J!" yelled the grunt, "You wanna come smash my back with a hammer? Its feeling kinda... in need of a good smashing..." he said, not finding the right word to describe his predicament. "Grunt," said the elite, "I would be glad to take a sledgehammer to your back, but the Covenant race is far too advanced for such brutality. Come, let me use my plasma sword to cure your malady," invited the elite.
"Uh, thanks, but... uh... no thanks," said the grunt, backing away from the shining elite, "I'm suddenly feeling much perkier."
So off he was, looking for a solution; any solution, to fix his ailing back. Several fruitless ideas came and went, such as backing a ghost into a wall, getting whacked by a jackal's shield, or finding an inviting looking cliff to jump off of, yet none of them appealed to him. So off he was, once again, trying to find a kindly native, or fellow grunt, or anything that might possibly heal him, yet his search came to no avail. That is, until he saw the giant ship looming in the distance. He thought, for a fleeting moment, that the ship was his very own Truth and Reconciliation, but that image was erased as soon as he got a closer look. It was a relatively large human vessel. Then he noticed the green elites, along with the large green bubbles, and some other race he could not identify. He decided to try to make contact with the elites. "Hey, bud," he yelled to one of them, "Could I see you for a sec?"
The green elite stumbled over to him, turned around, and gurgled. "Yeah, well, could you, maybe, ya no... give me a big ole whack in the back? It's getting really bothersome," requested the grunt. The elite, looking quite dead, turned around once more, and gave the grunt a good ole' whack with his whips. CRACK. "AHHHH, good hurt. That feels MUCH better," said the grunt.
Then, just as he turned to walk away, his Grunt-Sense® told him of an unknown danger lurking behind him. He spun just in time as the elite attempted to whip him again. With his newly cured spine, he is able to dodge out of the way. He then used some techniques taught to him by his wrestling master, the hunter, George Dubbya Bush. He made quick work of the stupid elite, and said, "Stop trying to hit me and hit me!" But still, the elite couldn't manage. "Oh, I see... you're head's on backwards. Here, lemme fix that for ya!" He swung another devastating blow at the elite, which knocked its head off. "Oops... gotta run," said the grunt. Not only was he a professional wrestler, but a universe-class sprinter as well. He escaped onto the human ship, while avoiding most of the green elites and utterly mutilating the ones who challenged him. He eventually reached a long, curved corridor where he found some mean, green... black elites fighting a group of mean green... green elites. Such a site confused the grunt, and he thus became very thirsty. Then, he found a very cozy little spot off of the main tunnel, where he hoped to get at least several units of sleep. His dream was short lived, however, as a group of the strange green elites, along with some equally strange green humans entered his hideaway. He remembered every thing that master Bush had taught him. His hands were steel plates, but his legs fluid like water. He destroyed the deformities with relative ease. He picked up an unused plasma pistol off of one of the bodies, which grunted. He sliced it in half with his Swiss Army Knife, which he had looted from the ship. He then walked over to the end of the corridor, curled up, and went to sleep.
It must have been over fifteen units when he woke up, and he could hear explosions rocking the ship, and a faint hum of a primitive human vehicle. He then saw a green human, but not like the ones he had seen before. The grunt said, "Good thing that food nipples waiting for me at the starship, cuz, man. Whoo! Have I worked up a big, Grunty thirst!" The human walked off, and the grunt silently trailed him, and hid inside his assault vehicle. He heard a voice coming from the humans helmet, but it was definitely not the humans. "He's a schizophrenic," thought the grunt. The voice told the human to get out, and he obeyed, as did the grunt. While the human busied himself fighting black and green elites alike, the grunt sneaked aboard the waiting fighter. The human arrived, and thankfully didn't notice the grunt.
What happened next is still a mystery. Some say the human found the grunt, but the grunts skills were far superior to his own. Still others say that the grunt was never found and escaped onto the human world. Shall the truth ever be revealed? We will see in the amazing sequel...
HALO2
AN INFINATELY COOLER COMEDYku
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