Blam!
September 6th, 2008, 02:37 AM
I'll update this as I write more material. I have a basic outline set up for a story I've been writing, currently titled "The Pie Who Loved Me". Until just recently, this was actually going to be a machinima filmed for Halo.
Chapter I:
The Beginning
The attack had begun.
Stepping swiftly from the helicopters they had just flown in on, the marines got ready for their ground assault. 2 armored jeeps, driven by the best drivers in the unit, exited the helicopters and waited for orders from their commander.
The enemy knew they were coming; no one for miles around could have missed the sound of their insertion helicopters. Right about now, soldiers were running about, grabbing weapons or possibly just climbing out of their bunks.
The base they were launching an assault on was just an entry point into enemy territory. It was just an abandoned, decades-old power plant, but, if taken, it could be the biggest stronghold they had as they marched off to victory.
The air was tense with the anticipation of battle. There was no way the enemy could withstand their attack.
Unless... Unless the enemy, which they had codenamed "blue", had their best soldier, a legendary soldier who never lost a single battle.
He has killed millions, and once won a battle single-handedly, outnumbered 300 to one. They said that he ate bullets for breakfast, nails for lunch, and Chuck Norris for dinner. There was no stopping him once he started fighting. It was almost as if he had some sort of "health bar" they didn't, because it seemed that he could take dozens of bullets without dying, then simply duck behind a piece of scenery for a few seconds and come back out as if he had just stopped to tie his shoes. His movements were so fluid, it's almost as if he had some sort of device that could control his movements from afar, a "controller" of sorts, and the operator was somewhere far, far away, watching from a TV screen in his living room. Some said he had leet hacks. The rest looked at those some funny and slowly backed away, because there was no leet hacks in real life. And even if there were, you'd have to hack your life console, and that voided the warranty, which no one wanted, because what if your life console broke? You'd have to send it back to God, and he'd tell you that he can't fix it because you voided the warranty. The only one he ever fixed it for was for his best buddy, some guy named "Jesus" or something. Fag. Fix it for the rest of us, too, don't play favorites because he's your BFF or boyfriend or something. Anyway, while some rumored that that soldier used leet hacks, obviously, he couldn't, or else he would void his warranty, and God would bring down the banhammer on him faster than you could say, "WHAT THE HELL, MAN?"
Little did they know that soldier was stationed at this outpost. Unfortunately, he was currently on vacation, and had been sending many postcards back to the base telling the commander how he was doing. Apparently, he had met several dolphins on his vacation, who seemed very playful. However, these dolphins were not actually being playful at all, they were just trying to send a message: "So long, and thanks for all the fish."
His replacement, named Bob Guy, was a noteworthy one. He had skills that were unbelievable. He was so good that... Pfft- That... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Who are we kidding? He's the worst soldier in history.
As the other team got ready for their assault, Bob was ready for action. He looked around, as if searching for something, like a voice that didn't have a person to match it.
"COMMANDER! THE VOICES IN THE SKY ARE TALKING TO ME AGAIN!" Bob said.
His commander, supervising troops in the dark grey command center of the power facility as they prepared for combat, replied, "Just ignore them, Bob, and they'll go away."
"Ok. Mr. Voice, can you go bother someone else?"
There was silence, as the voice didn't have a reply.
"Commander! The voice says he doesn't have any reply!"
"Bob. Ignore it. It'll go away soon."
The commander whispered something into the ear of one of the soldiers, then walked over to speak to Bob.
"We're losing men, fast. I would send you out there, but you have... Special needs."
"That's what my mommy told me!"
"We need you, though."
"Need me for what?"
"We need you to stay the hell out of everyone's wa- I mean, we need you to watch the base. I'm going to have to go out there. I have to leave you in charge of the base, but whatever you do, do NOT hit that button right next to you."
"The red one with the 'DO NOT PRESS THIS, BOB' written on it?"
"Yes, that one. Do you understand?"
"Yep!"
"I need you to repeat what I said, Bob. What did I say?"
"I need you to repeat what I said, Bob, what did I-"
"NO, NO, NOT that!"
"NO, NO, NOT that!"
"Repeat what I said the first time."
"Repeat what I said the first time."
"Repeat this: NEVER hit that button next to you."
"NEVER hit french toast before bed."
"Umm... Yeah. Let's go with that. I'm going to back away slowly, and you're NOT going to hit that button."
"OK!"
And, with that, the commander left Bob alone.
Bob's tiny mind struggled with the difficult order his commander had given him.
"Never hit french toast before bed?" He said to himself, "I can do that. Oooh... What's this shiny red button thingy? Do... Nut... Press... This... Bob... Donut press this Bob? IF I HIT THIS, I GET A DONUT? Sweet."
And, with that, Bob pressed the button. Suddenly, he remembered the first lesson his mom taught him: Pressing shiny red buttons in the hope of getting a donut was bad. VERY bad.
"I didn't hit the button," he said, trying to reassure himself. "My finger did."
Just then, a sultry female voice echoed through the halls, coming over the loudspeakers. It had just a slight metallic tinge to it, enough to remind you that there was not actually any girls present in the facility and that this was just a computer talking. However, this fact was not apparent enough to a poor marine named Charlie several months ago, who attempted to have hot, passionate sex with the machine that generates the voice and was electrocuted. He died immediately after he had finished, but his dying words were, "That girl was the tightest girl EVER."
"This base will self-destruct in 60 seconds. Free coffee is available in the command center if needed. Have a spectacular day."
"That lady is very nice," Bob said, "she wants me to have a spectacular day! HAVE A SPECTACULAR DAY, TOO, NICE LADY!"
Bob then calmly left through the main entrance and casually strolled past the intense firefight that was occurring between his team and the enemy.
"See ya later, Commander!"
"Bye, Bob! Wait... Bob! I need you! Come back!"
"I think it's very sweet that you feel that way towards me, but I prefer my relations with women."
"Bob! Come back! This is insubordination!"
"I really don't care about the 'in' status of whatever the hell subordination is, but I do agree, that 'subordination' outfit looks very good on you."
And, with that, Bob hopped in one of the enemy jeeps and drove off.
Suprsingly, no one shot at Bob, possibly because half of the other team had died of laughter, and the other half couldn't stop laughing long enough to hold their guns steady. Blue team was about to make short work of them when C4, buried in strategic locations around the building, if by strategic you mean that people decided to put it everywhere it could fit, went off on a timed explosion set off by a red button sixty seconds beforehand.
The only survivor was Bob, driving casually out of the explosion, going off to visit his friend Ian in the next camp. He was stopped by military police, who wondered why the first thing he asked is where were the donuts he was promised. After they learned what he had did, they decided to take him off to the general of the area, and almost shot him because he wouldn't stop asking if they were there yet.
A short while later, Bob was sitting Indian-style in front of the highest-ranking official of the area.
"...You were responsible for the loss of ALL OF B COMPANY!"
"I wasn't. My finger was."
The general was, at first, taken aback by this comment. Then he realized he was talking to an idiot.
"I cannot let this go unpunished. I am going to send you to noob- Err... N company."
"Will I be able to meet some new friends?"
"Yes, yes you will."
"Awesome! Will I get a mouse?"
"No."
"A pony?"
"No."
"Pleaaaase?"
"No."
"Just one widdle white mouse? I'll name him Squeaky, and he will be MY SQUEAKY, forever and ever and ever!"
"No. Take him away."
"Take who away?"
Suddenly, 2 uniformed guards emerged from the shadows, picked up Bob, and carried him off. As he went down the hallway to the van that was waiting to carry him off to his new desert outpost, he could be heard shouting, "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
They called it Beggar's Canyon for a reason, and not just because the person who named it was into Star Wars. This is where both the teams would send their rejects. These rejects who were sent here wouldn't fight, and thus wouldn't get rewarded on their return home, turining them into beggars. In the canyon, there were two bases, and each of them existed because there was another on the opposite side of the canyon. The blues had managed to secure one, the other team, codenamed "Red" by the blues because of their armor color, the other. It was a box canyon in the middle of nowhere, no one cared if the either team actually ever CAPTURED the other base.
And the Blue's commander, Commander Pie, was just another reject. He had done well in the tests, so well, in fact, they promoted him to commander right off the bat. But he never won a battle in his life, and, even when he was demoted, he still tried to order people around, and people who were superior to him, at that. So they sent him to Beggar's canyon, and he has been here ever since.
And now he was short a member. The reds had recieved a new recruit, making the total count of the people in the canyon 3 on blue and 4 on red. He sent in a request to get a new recruit from command months ago. And the commander was finally about to get the new recruit Command had been promising him.
A military jeep drove up. The side door opened, and Bob Guy was thrown out of the jeep by the seat of his pants. As soon as Bob was just barely clear, the jeep took off, almost running over Bob's leg and sending several nearby bunny rabbits into a nearby bush. Bob got up and dusted himself off.
Pie held out his hand for a friendly handshake. "Hello Bob, welcome to N company."
Bob, confused, stared at Pie's hand. "What does the N stand for?"
"Don't ask."
Bob paused and thought for a moment.
"Don't Ask doesn't start with N," he said.
Pie shook his head and moved his outstretched hand impatiently. "It's not 'Don't Ask'," he said, beginning to grow slightly annoyed.
"Then what is it?"
"OK, it's a French word, pronounced 'Nub'. Most people go and say 'Noob', but that's butchering the name. Completely butchering it."
Bob, wondering why Pie had his hand out, finally reached a conclusion as to why and spit in the commander's open palm. "You sure that's French?" he asked.
Pie was at first surprised about what Bob had just done to his hand, but then thought about it and realized that he had seen people do far stranger things to him. "Of course I'm sure!" he continued, "I was at the top of the bottom of my class in French! Bon-jor Mouse-your! That's French."
"French for what?"
Pie paused, in thought. "I don't really know."
Bob got a vacant look on his face, then said, "I learned something today."
"Come on, Bob. Come inside our fortified one-of-a-kind base. You'll need to know what it's like in here, because the other team has an exact replica of this for their base."
Bob was confused. "Then it's not one of a kind..."
"Come along, Bob."
Pie took Bob to the main room of the base. It was brightly lit, with standard-issue military-cliche grey plating on the floors, with concrete walls and ceiling. In one corner was a obviously smart man, in his late twenties or maybe early thirties, who was playing with a small metal replica of an F-16. You never were too old to play with toys.
In the other corner was someone who looked like a bum. Somehow, he managed to tear up his barely-worn dress uniform, and he looked as if he hadn't shaved his entire life. Maybe he was afraid to.
Pie lead Bob in and started to make with the introductions.
"Anyway, here are your squad-mates. This here is Kyle Andross. We call him 'Flyguy' or 'Fly', mainly because he meant to check the 'Air Force' box when he signed up for the Army, but he checked 'Marines' by accident."
"Hey Fly."
"Hey."
Pie continued: "Next, we have Joe. Joe was a Hobo who got drafted. Since he always insists on wearing ripped clothes EVERYWHERE, we call him Torn."
"How are ya, Torn?"
"Well, I'm-" Torn started.
Bob cut him off. "That's nice."
"And finally, we have me, Apple Pie, Commander of the finest company in this god-forsaken canyon."
"Your name is Apple Pie?" Bob asked.
"It's an Irish name."
"It is?"
"No. I had two idiot parents who thought they were being funny when they were deciding on a name for their child."
"Oh."
"Anyway, everyone, off to your posts! Flyguy, go draw up attack plans. Torn, guard the entryway from the reds. Bob... Umm... Protect Flyguy. I'll be in my cabin reading the articles from Playboy magazine. Don't disturb me."
Pie walked off to his cabin, and everyone went about to do their duties. As he went, Flyguy shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Nobody ever just reads the articles..."
Chapter I:
The Beginning
The attack had begun.
Stepping swiftly from the helicopters they had just flown in on, the marines got ready for their ground assault. 2 armored jeeps, driven by the best drivers in the unit, exited the helicopters and waited for orders from their commander.
The enemy knew they were coming; no one for miles around could have missed the sound of their insertion helicopters. Right about now, soldiers were running about, grabbing weapons or possibly just climbing out of their bunks.
The base they were launching an assault on was just an entry point into enemy territory. It was just an abandoned, decades-old power plant, but, if taken, it could be the biggest stronghold they had as they marched off to victory.
The air was tense with the anticipation of battle. There was no way the enemy could withstand their attack.
Unless... Unless the enemy, which they had codenamed "blue", had their best soldier, a legendary soldier who never lost a single battle.
He has killed millions, and once won a battle single-handedly, outnumbered 300 to one. They said that he ate bullets for breakfast, nails for lunch, and Chuck Norris for dinner. There was no stopping him once he started fighting. It was almost as if he had some sort of "health bar" they didn't, because it seemed that he could take dozens of bullets without dying, then simply duck behind a piece of scenery for a few seconds and come back out as if he had just stopped to tie his shoes. His movements were so fluid, it's almost as if he had some sort of device that could control his movements from afar, a "controller" of sorts, and the operator was somewhere far, far away, watching from a TV screen in his living room. Some said he had leet hacks. The rest looked at those some funny and slowly backed away, because there was no leet hacks in real life. And even if there were, you'd have to hack your life console, and that voided the warranty, which no one wanted, because what if your life console broke? You'd have to send it back to God, and he'd tell you that he can't fix it because you voided the warranty. The only one he ever fixed it for was for his best buddy, some guy named "Jesus" or something. Fag. Fix it for the rest of us, too, don't play favorites because he's your BFF or boyfriend or something. Anyway, while some rumored that that soldier used leet hacks, obviously, he couldn't, or else he would void his warranty, and God would bring down the banhammer on him faster than you could say, "WHAT THE HELL, MAN?"
Little did they know that soldier was stationed at this outpost. Unfortunately, he was currently on vacation, and had been sending many postcards back to the base telling the commander how he was doing. Apparently, he had met several dolphins on his vacation, who seemed very playful. However, these dolphins were not actually being playful at all, they were just trying to send a message: "So long, and thanks for all the fish."
His replacement, named Bob Guy, was a noteworthy one. He had skills that were unbelievable. He was so good that... Pfft- That... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Who are we kidding? He's the worst soldier in history.
As the other team got ready for their assault, Bob was ready for action. He looked around, as if searching for something, like a voice that didn't have a person to match it.
"COMMANDER! THE VOICES IN THE SKY ARE TALKING TO ME AGAIN!" Bob said.
His commander, supervising troops in the dark grey command center of the power facility as they prepared for combat, replied, "Just ignore them, Bob, and they'll go away."
"Ok. Mr. Voice, can you go bother someone else?"
There was silence, as the voice didn't have a reply.
"Commander! The voice says he doesn't have any reply!"
"Bob. Ignore it. It'll go away soon."
The commander whispered something into the ear of one of the soldiers, then walked over to speak to Bob.
"We're losing men, fast. I would send you out there, but you have... Special needs."
"That's what my mommy told me!"
"We need you, though."
"Need me for what?"
"We need you to stay the hell out of everyone's wa- I mean, we need you to watch the base. I'm going to have to go out there. I have to leave you in charge of the base, but whatever you do, do NOT hit that button right next to you."
"The red one with the 'DO NOT PRESS THIS, BOB' written on it?"
"Yes, that one. Do you understand?"
"Yep!"
"I need you to repeat what I said, Bob. What did I say?"
"I need you to repeat what I said, Bob, what did I-"
"NO, NO, NOT that!"
"NO, NO, NOT that!"
"Repeat what I said the first time."
"Repeat what I said the first time."
"Repeat this: NEVER hit that button next to you."
"NEVER hit french toast before bed."
"Umm... Yeah. Let's go with that. I'm going to back away slowly, and you're NOT going to hit that button."
"OK!"
And, with that, the commander left Bob alone.
Bob's tiny mind struggled with the difficult order his commander had given him.
"Never hit french toast before bed?" He said to himself, "I can do that. Oooh... What's this shiny red button thingy? Do... Nut... Press... This... Bob... Donut press this Bob? IF I HIT THIS, I GET A DONUT? Sweet."
And, with that, Bob pressed the button. Suddenly, he remembered the first lesson his mom taught him: Pressing shiny red buttons in the hope of getting a donut was bad. VERY bad.
"I didn't hit the button," he said, trying to reassure himself. "My finger did."
Just then, a sultry female voice echoed through the halls, coming over the loudspeakers. It had just a slight metallic tinge to it, enough to remind you that there was not actually any girls present in the facility and that this was just a computer talking. However, this fact was not apparent enough to a poor marine named Charlie several months ago, who attempted to have hot, passionate sex with the machine that generates the voice and was electrocuted. He died immediately after he had finished, but his dying words were, "That girl was the tightest girl EVER."
"This base will self-destruct in 60 seconds. Free coffee is available in the command center if needed. Have a spectacular day."
"That lady is very nice," Bob said, "she wants me to have a spectacular day! HAVE A SPECTACULAR DAY, TOO, NICE LADY!"
Bob then calmly left through the main entrance and casually strolled past the intense firefight that was occurring between his team and the enemy.
"See ya later, Commander!"
"Bye, Bob! Wait... Bob! I need you! Come back!"
"I think it's very sweet that you feel that way towards me, but I prefer my relations with women."
"Bob! Come back! This is insubordination!"
"I really don't care about the 'in' status of whatever the hell subordination is, but I do agree, that 'subordination' outfit looks very good on you."
And, with that, Bob hopped in one of the enemy jeeps and drove off.
Suprsingly, no one shot at Bob, possibly because half of the other team had died of laughter, and the other half couldn't stop laughing long enough to hold their guns steady. Blue team was about to make short work of them when C4, buried in strategic locations around the building, if by strategic you mean that people decided to put it everywhere it could fit, went off on a timed explosion set off by a red button sixty seconds beforehand.
The only survivor was Bob, driving casually out of the explosion, going off to visit his friend Ian in the next camp. He was stopped by military police, who wondered why the first thing he asked is where were the donuts he was promised. After they learned what he had did, they decided to take him off to the general of the area, and almost shot him because he wouldn't stop asking if they were there yet.
A short while later, Bob was sitting Indian-style in front of the highest-ranking official of the area.
"...You were responsible for the loss of ALL OF B COMPANY!"
"I wasn't. My finger was."
The general was, at first, taken aback by this comment. Then he realized he was talking to an idiot.
"I cannot let this go unpunished. I am going to send you to noob- Err... N company."
"Will I be able to meet some new friends?"
"Yes, yes you will."
"Awesome! Will I get a mouse?"
"No."
"A pony?"
"No."
"Pleaaaase?"
"No."
"Just one widdle white mouse? I'll name him Squeaky, and he will be MY SQUEAKY, forever and ever and ever!"
"No. Take him away."
"Take who away?"
Suddenly, 2 uniformed guards emerged from the shadows, picked up Bob, and carried him off. As he went down the hallway to the van that was waiting to carry him off to his new desert outpost, he could be heard shouting, "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
They called it Beggar's Canyon for a reason, and not just because the person who named it was into Star Wars. This is where both the teams would send their rejects. These rejects who were sent here wouldn't fight, and thus wouldn't get rewarded on their return home, turining them into beggars. In the canyon, there were two bases, and each of them existed because there was another on the opposite side of the canyon. The blues had managed to secure one, the other team, codenamed "Red" by the blues because of their armor color, the other. It was a box canyon in the middle of nowhere, no one cared if the either team actually ever CAPTURED the other base.
And the Blue's commander, Commander Pie, was just another reject. He had done well in the tests, so well, in fact, they promoted him to commander right off the bat. But he never won a battle in his life, and, even when he was demoted, he still tried to order people around, and people who were superior to him, at that. So they sent him to Beggar's canyon, and he has been here ever since.
And now he was short a member. The reds had recieved a new recruit, making the total count of the people in the canyon 3 on blue and 4 on red. He sent in a request to get a new recruit from command months ago. And the commander was finally about to get the new recruit Command had been promising him.
A military jeep drove up. The side door opened, and Bob Guy was thrown out of the jeep by the seat of his pants. As soon as Bob was just barely clear, the jeep took off, almost running over Bob's leg and sending several nearby bunny rabbits into a nearby bush. Bob got up and dusted himself off.
Pie held out his hand for a friendly handshake. "Hello Bob, welcome to N company."
Bob, confused, stared at Pie's hand. "What does the N stand for?"
"Don't ask."
Bob paused and thought for a moment.
"Don't Ask doesn't start with N," he said.
Pie shook his head and moved his outstretched hand impatiently. "It's not 'Don't Ask'," he said, beginning to grow slightly annoyed.
"Then what is it?"
"OK, it's a French word, pronounced 'Nub'. Most people go and say 'Noob', but that's butchering the name. Completely butchering it."
Bob, wondering why Pie had his hand out, finally reached a conclusion as to why and spit in the commander's open palm. "You sure that's French?" he asked.
Pie was at first surprised about what Bob had just done to his hand, but then thought about it and realized that he had seen people do far stranger things to him. "Of course I'm sure!" he continued, "I was at the top of the bottom of my class in French! Bon-jor Mouse-your! That's French."
"French for what?"
Pie paused, in thought. "I don't really know."
Bob got a vacant look on his face, then said, "I learned something today."
"Come on, Bob. Come inside our fortified one-of-a-kind base. You'll need to know what it's like in here, because the other team has an exact replica of this for their base."
Bob was confused. "Then it's not one of a kind..."
"Come along, Bob."
Pie took Bob to the main room of the base. It was brightly lit, with standard-issue military-cliche grey plating on the floors, with concrete walls and ceiling. In one corner was a obviously smart man, in his late twenties or maybe early thirties, who was playing with a small metal replica of an F-16. You never were too old to play with toys.
In the other corner was someone who looked like a bum. Somehow, he managed to tear up his barely-worn dress uniform, and he looked as if he hadn't shaved his entire life. Maybe he was afraid to.
Pie lead Bob in and started to make with the introductions.
"Anyway, here are your squad-mates. This here is Kyle Andross. We call him 'Flyguy' or 'Fly', mainly because he meant to check the 'Air Force' box when he signed up for the Army, but he checked 'Marines' by accident."
"Hey Fly."
"Hey."
Pie continued: "Next, we have Joe. Joe was a Hobo who got drafted. Since he always insists on wearing ripped clothes EVERYWHERE, we call him Torn."
"How are ya, Torn?"
"Well, I'm-" Torn started.
Bob cut him off. "That's nice."
"And finally, we have me, Apple Pie, Commander of the finest company in this god-forsaken canyon."
"Your name is Apple Pie?" Bob asked.
"It's an Irish name."
"It is?"
"No. I had two idiot parents who thought they were being funny when they were deciding on a name for their child."
"Oh."
"Anyway, everyone, off to your posts! Flyguy, go draw up attack plans. Torn, guard the entryway from the reds. Bob... Umm... Protect Flyguy. I'll be in my cabin reading the articles from Playboy magazine. Don't disturb me."
Pie walked off to his cabin, and everyone went about to do their duties. As he went, Flyguy shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Nobody ever just reads the articles..."