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My Skull Was the Sign of an Ass-kicking... Part II
Posted By: Michael M. <Dexterdot@hotmail.com>Date: 9/24/04 5:41 p.m.

Part I -- Required reading if you want to understand Part II


Don't Dance with the Devil's Heir
A Yellow Banshee-inspired story by Michael M.

Part II

I picked up a needler.

Michael M: Now, let’s get on with it. Let’s kick. Some. Ass.

I slid over to Blue base. There he stood, waiting for me.
“Now, can the games begin?” He taunted.
“Not quite. The ‘King’ isn’t dead yet.”

Twenty needles raced towards him. Gracefully, he floated out of the way, returning with a plasma grenade. As it exploded, I managed to catch some air off it and brutally stabbed some needles into him with a melee. His shields disappeared. He launched towards me, throwing his plasma pistol on the ground in order to start punching me with some hand-to-hand combat. My pupils widened in shock. I was dumbstruck. My eyes focused on his weapon, which was still on the ground while he madly swiped at me with his bare fists. There he was, pounding me rapidly holding nothing but air, swiping fist after fist. His weapon remained on the ground.
No weapon… Is this possible?
Strike after strike, my screen went red. His character evolved into a brutal killing machine. If this were real, my MC would have blacked out by now… and that would be if my character was twice as tough.

My mind was racing as he continued to pound me with no weapon.
WHOOSH! A plasma grenade went off in my vicinity, launching me into the sky, dead. My shield reinitiated as I respawned. Now the score was around 40-38.

It was an even match, but he was winning. I readied a nearby shotgun and chased after him.

“How the hell do you do all that?” I asked.
“I’m just plain good. That’s all it is, my friend. That’s all it is.”

To much my surprise, a warthog flew over the top of the small canyon and landed in the middle of the creek. This time I was sure it was real. He mounted himself onto the gunner position and pounded my position with bullets. Before now, I wasn’t ever sure if it was physically possible to get a Warthog into this map. As I dodged his bullets, I rolled my fragmentation grenade under his wheel. The warthog gave a screaming noise as it scraped clean over the natural arch.
“R.G…” I snickered.
In return, from over the arch three simultaneous plasma grenades were thrown. One landed on the rocket launcher, another below my feet and the last one sending him flying onto the base.
WHOOMP! The rocket launcher landed in his hands. WHOOMP! My body vanished in a cloud of blue.
WHOOMP! I respawned as a rocket flew into me. I dodged, but the splash damage took away all but one health bar. I gritted my teeth as I rushed into where he stood on the opposite base. Confused, he fired another rocket at where he thought at stood. He thought wrong.
I rushed in from behind, delivering a smack into his back. One more kill for me.

Slowly, the kills rose to 45-45.
I fired a last rocket into him, blowing him over the side of the sniper spot. He respawned, knocking me to the ground with the warthog, flipping into me from a frag grenade.

46-48:
He fell from above the map, landing on me while I was distracted by from what I could swear was the sun blinding my Master Chief.

48-49: He put up a strong resistance as I blasted him into the wall with my Shotgun. The wall bled bullet holes.

Now, the score was 49-49. I was confident this would be an easy match. My soul would forever remain mine. He was not coming near me.
SMACK! My Master Chief flew back as he delivered the butt of his Shotgun into my stomach. WHUMP! A grenade went off nearby, finishing off my shields. He had me caught by surprise. I was his. Soon, it would all be over. Or that was what he had thought

By now I had forgotten all about the storm raging outside. I was unaware that the wind threw the power lines and fuse boxes about by my steps. The sign on my door had now flown off its hinges. The lines holding my Internet connection were hanging on by a thread – or a wire, even. One slight raise in wind would cut off all communication to the outside world. Yes, even online gaming.

I took up a pistol, firing rapidly at his chest. He dodged the bullets like basketballs. He appeared from behind, ready to melee. Ready to finish the match. I ducked. His hit went off by a mile. I switched to my shotgun and circled him, ready to fire. My finger inched near the trigger. He backed away. If I fired, he was finished. He carefully backed off.

Michael M: Goodbye.

BAM! My bullets flew through the air gracefully. As they inched near him he vanished into thin air. He was gone. My mouth widened. I hit my head for not seeing that he had managed to grab the active camo the second before I fired. Now I had no clue where he was. Now, for half a minute or so, he would be able to gain the advantage over me and hit me in the back when I least expected it. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I rushed over to a corner where my back wasn’t visible. I scanned the area, scared. I couldn’t see him. My eyes brushed over the bush to my left, the rock arch straight ahead… And onto the shotgun poking through the wall behind me. I scrambled away from the wall where I stood as he swiped at where I once was. He was hiding in the wall, his camouflage blending in. Somehow he had forced himself out of the level and had come up to where I was hiding.

I rushed over to the LAAG with him still trailing me with a series of melees. I strapped myself in then proceeded to pound the area with a chain of lead.

“You want my soul? Well, come and get it, because you’ll have to get through ME first!”
My eyes squinted on the screen as everything became a blurry mess in bullets. The engine couldn’t hold out much longer. All this wasn’t supposed to be happening. The warthog in Battle Creek, the no weapon melee, this was all too hard for the engine. Graphics were getting blurry, certain objects wouldn’t appear, all this was too much. Within a few minutes, the game would crash. This guy wasn’t being too nice on the game’s limits.

I continued hailing the area with bullets. I focused on the rock arch where he stood. His shields were dimming. Soon both them and the active camouflage would wear off.
WHUMP! A grenade exploded behind me. I was sent – along with the warthog – into the arch. He skilfully dodged it, readying his weapon. In a hail, his shotgun fired what I could swear was twice the normal amount. It was a chore dodging bullets as they went everywhere. Shot after shot, I was pounded heavily. This time, he was lucky. He tore through my shield and I was on four bars of life.

That was it. He had hit the bar between his survival and death. I chose the latter. I grabbed the rocket launcher lying beside me. My MC pressed down firm on the handle.
A rocket slammed firm onto the side of the arch in a cloud of debris. Nothing could be seen but blood and dust. He reappeared from the cloud and flew down to meet me, pushed onwards still by the momentum of the blast. It looked like he had two bars left of life. He dropped his weapon.

I dropped mine.

It was time for a showdown.
He was the first to strike. His fist flew through the air, slamming against my MC’s helmet and sending my character flying to the ground. The engine was now at its limits. No-one ever believed Halo’s limits could be reached. On that fateful day, the mysterious man known only as Pfhorever pushed it.

I retaliated by pushing my fists into his stomach rapidly. He struggled to block as I punched in everywhere on his body. He brought up his knees to my chest. My heart beat rapidly. Everything was becoming a blur as our characters struggled for life or death. We exchanged blows and kicks. The engine wheezed and moaned as certain things started to go awry.

While Pfhorever gave a blow to my head, the overlay displaying the sky disappeared in the overload of stress. The sun, too, disappeared along with what could be seen of the rest of the ring world and the sky. Everything was black in the sky.
Next came the lighting. Everything dynamically lighting up the area went, so the area was dark. All objects overloaded, and weapons disappeared with each shot. Textures suddenly became basic and you couldn’t tell the red base apart from blue.

I flew back into the wall among much blood. I could swear now Battle Creek was cracking up and lightning was appearing in what was left of the sky.
He rushed to my body, hammering several blows to my stomach. I was on one bar left of health. I kicked him over and hammered on his body. Now he was on one bar, too.

It felt almost as if he was allowing me to do all these impossible feats of no-weaponed combat. Almost as if it were to make it hard for himself. I heard his shield beep, reinitializing. I found a fragmentation grenade sitting beside me. My Master Chief picked it up in his hand then smacked Pfhorever over with it. It exploded, taking down his health back to no shields with half a bar of health.

Now my heart was beating faster than the shots of an Assault Rifle. This couldn’t be happening. This was all a dream. It wasn’t physically possible to fight without a weapon. Most likely, he hacked into the game and made the weapon models disappear. Yeah, that’s it.

WHUMP!
For a second, I almost thought I was dead. While I was pondering the meaning of life, he had scored an extra hit on me while my shield recharged.
I stood to my feet. I beat him breathless, flailing my arms rampantly. We were now both on one inch left of life. A single hit from either player would win the game.

I charged at him as he stepped out of the way. I mindlessly stumbled into a small corner from where I saw the one thing which would change the tide of the match.
THE WARTHOG! He looked at me, puzzled. Then he realized my finding. We both rushed to the vehicle while madly hopping over anything that got in the way. If one person managed to get in the LAAG position, he would tear the other into shreds. It was perfect for winning the match.

I threw myself as far forward as possible. It almost felt like it were a movie-like slow motion. My feet whizzed through the creek amongst a hail of shreds of debris and shrapnel.
I launched forward, only to see Pfhorever directly across from me. It was just up to speed who would get there first. I rushed to the warthog as fast as I could. He was fast, but hopefully not fast enough. My fingertips had barely reached the edge of the warthog when he had jumped in. He had beaten me. He was in the warthog.
It was all over.

For him. He didn’t realize what I had planned. He didn’t know that I had seen a stockload of grenades piled under there from earlier. He would have obviously hacked chain-reaction grenades into the map. A smile spread on my face. His finger backed away from the trigger. He was puzzled as to why I hadn’t tried to hide. My grip tightened. This was it.
I believed now this guy was something special, but there was no way in hell he was going to steal MY soul.

Michael M: So be it. Be gone.

I reached for my character’s belt. Into his hand came one fragmentation grenade.
My opponent realized what I was trying to do. His jaw dropped. Slowly, the frag left my hand. Almost as if it were bullet time, the frag slowly curved towards it’s target. It slammed against the ground, skidding under the vehicle. It spun around and around, slowly careening into the other grenades. It bounced against the underbelly of the warthog.

I blinked.

Even through the internet and thousands of miles away, I could swear I could hear his voice screaming in a high, loud voice chiming through my modem as he realized my plan. I could even hear his finger pressing down on the mouse button to fire the LAAG.

Michael M: Die.

WHOOMF. The grenade’s fuse lit. It burnt down to the core, setting off a chemical reaction causing it to explode. It launched the warthog, still with my opponent into the air. But that wasn’t all. That one grenade caused an explosion which would surely end the game. That grenade set alight several other grenades, 38 to be exact. Simultaneously, they let out an explosion capable of creating a hole in time itself. And that it did. The air, rocks, grass and everything else on the map bubbled under the air and flew at least five feet away. The sheer strain of the engine caused everything on the map to freeze perfectly still, caught in a rip of time by the stress on the engine coupled together with an explosion capable of taking down half the earth.

Everything was frozen solid. Slowly, the last grenade, capable of launching the Warthog an extra foot went off. It created a wave of air to ripple, and then freeze. Still, the warthog remained a foot above the ground.

Then it all happened at once.

The engine couldn’t take it anymore. The force of the explosion wasn’t meant to happen in multiplayer. The multiplayer engine wasn’t quite designed to handle such a force. The warthog froze for one more second with air still trapped around it in waves. Then, everything continued. The air wrapped into itself then vanished, sending everything in close proximity flying back. The explosion finally had an effect on the warthog and it launched high into the air. Hundreds of feet it went, still sailing through the air. More explosions went off from inside the warthog.
That was when the engine snapped. The whole place tore apart. Every single thing imaginable in the game was broken. The map split in two. The rock arch vanished along with the two bases. It was barely recognizable anymore.

I followed the warthog, still flying high with my gaze.
“For R.G…” I whispered.
I could see Pfhorever’s character being dealt a whole lot of pain. I could see his shield completely vanish as his lifebar hit the final limit. When he hit the ground, he would die. Or, at least if the engine held out till then. Everything was falling apart. Rocks were flying everywhere. The ground was cracking up.
So this is what it’s like to see a game’s engines being pushed… Although he almost stole my soul, I had to congratulate him for such a feat. I looked at the beautiful land, which was once Battle Creek. Not much was left of it, just red sand and lots of debris.

It would all be over when he hit the ground…

My screen flickered. I stood to my feet. The connection was dying. I saw the lag symbol in the lower right of my screen.
C’mon, c’mon, not right now! The storm was wreaking havoc with my phone lines. If I wasn’t careful, the storm would break it right up and I wouldn’t get to see him die.
I hoped I could just get that last second as the screen flickered and lagged. A spark came from the power socket. The storm was pretty much wrecking every cable there was outside…

With the connection and power difficulties, not to mention the game engine breaking up, things were looking dim. The screen started to fade. Everything I could see on the screen was a blurry mess. The sound system was running through every possible piece of audio in the game to make sure everything worked.

The keyboard made a crackling noise. Despite this, I advanced forward to see his death. He was descending now. Within seconds he would land on the ground, dead, with his warthog not far behind. I looked up to track his position. There he was, falling with his rocket launcher in hand, desperately trying to get a decent aim on me. He was now less than ten metres from the ground. I rushed to make sure that last corpse hump could be achieved when he hit.

His body was less than a metre away from the ground when things went awry. The engine broke. Everything was chaos. My computer nearly exploded from the pandemonium outside. The game was seconds from crashing, and I would be forced to restart before the match ended. I could see him slowly reach the ground where he would slump into a heap. It would be worth all the trouble. In a mad attempt at the last possible moment, he slammed down on the trigger. A rocket spiralled from the tube of his SPNKr. It landed directly in front of him. He disappeared in a cloud of dust. So did I.

I strained to watch the screen. I couldn’t see where I was. All I could see was dust and red.
WHUMP! There came that horrible noise of a melee attack. He had survived the fall. Somehow, he had used the rocket blast to slow his fall and confuse me. I turned to see him frantically bunt me with his rocket launcher. Everything was a blurry mess. I did all in my power to avoid his blows. One hit would kill me. Just one. My eyes felt like they were bleeding. I should have gone to bed.

It would all be over. I would have faced him again in the morning when I was more energetic. Now, I chose not to and it would be too late. He would win the match if I took my fingers away from the keyboard.

And I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Even if I DO lose, he won’t take me down without a fight
I retaliated. I threw myself into him, hurting him in every way I could. I didn’t care about fear anymore. I didn’t care about the game engine. I didn’t care about the storm. I didn’t even care about how he survived the fall.
All I cared about was survival. So I punched. And punched. Until I was sure he was dead. It was a mad struggle to end the match. Each blow I threw he would block. Every hit he would throw at me I would dodge. It was an even match. We locked arms. No longer did I care about how all this was possible. I knew all of it was real, and that was that. So I took advantage of that, and I did everything he did.

He swung his arm back and threw it into me. I ducked. I swiped at his ankles with my legs. He jumped. It was then he realized he had to kill me at that moment. He brought out a rocket launcher. I brought out a rocket launcher. We were face-to-face, barrel-to-barrel with our rocket launchers.
We both fired.

And on that very moment, there was an explosion never been seen before in Halo. The two rockets impacted, setting off the other grenades around the map. The game engine would probably explode under this kind of strain. And that it did. Red base disappeared in a fountain of flames from the explosion. Blue base followed suit. A giant mushroom cloud appeared over where we stood. As the twisted game engine respawned grenades as they went off, thousands upon thousands of grenades exploded. It was sure to kill us both. I could see shades of yellow, gold and red painting the air. The ground cracked. Numbers and letters flew around the entire map. My modem shuddered. The walls felt like they were on fire from the storm raging outside. The ground shook in the game.
I pressed the melee key as fast as possible, just in case we were still alive. I couldn’t tell.

One final explosion went off, lifting me above the ground.
I could see my Master Chief’s body rising above the mushroom cloud.
Oh no… I had died. It was over. Wait
I could see someone rushing up to join me. There he was, the legendary Pfhorever caught above the cloud as well. We were both dead.
So neither of us lost… I thought.

Michael M: Good game. Too bad about my soul, though.
Pfhorever: Not quite. You forgot one little thing.
Michael M: ?
Pfhorever: Guardians…
Michael M: Uh…

Suddenly I could see ahead of me. There stood the one force capable of putting order to Halo. The guardians. There they were, ghosts of white in the sky, lit only by the souls of those who play Halo. Then they spoke.

“One of you must die…” They all said in unison, “But who shall die? It was a fair match. Both of you died equally. We have seen your match and it was the greatest we have ever witnessed. But there must be one winner.” They looked at Pfhorever.

“The deal you made with him was a stupid one, but I must admit this was a good way to get a soul back…”
“Wait!” I interrupted. “What the hell are you talking about, what’s this ‘deal’ thing you keep mentioning? And what about-“
“SILENCE!” They yelled. “No-one interrupts the greatest force controlling all life in this alternate universe!” I shut my mouth. “Now, Pfhorever, as we were saying… You have successfully shattered the rules of the Halo universe. For the first time, the engine was snapped. We owe our debt to you for the ultimate feat, which shall never again be reached. But that is no reason to let you win.”
They turned to face me.
“Michael M… You are a great player, no doubt. And since you could match his every move, we must congratulate you. This is a great matter to deal with, and you would surely win if he was not as good.” Back they went to face Pfhorever.
“Yes, you. Many people respected you, once. In fact, I think they need you more than ever, now. That is why we believe you should win this match. The world needs more people like you. Go back to your family. Tell your friends about your soul got trapped in the world of Halo. Go along.”
My jaw dropped.
“Does this mean…” I started.
“Yes. I’m sorry. BE GONE!” They interrupted.
My mind raced. No. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t let him win because the world needed him. I won fair and square. This couldn’t be happening. No way. He cheated. He tricked me. HE TRICKED ME! I was only joking when I bet my soul against him. But now I knew that he wasn’t joking. He should have told me what he wanted earlier and I wouldn’t have bet my soul.

NO!” I screamed. I charged at him. I was going to take him down with me. As I charged, I simply fell straight through him. “What? No!” I turned and started kicking him. Nothing. My foot went through him as if he were a ghost.

“But… You’re… Just… I...” I stuttered. “You’re a ghost!”
“Huh? Me, a ghost? I’m sorry it had to turn out like this, Michael M. I really am. You see, I am no longer the ghost, but you are. Your soul is becoming mine. My life shall continue as normal while you shall live eternally in the world known as Halo.” He responded.
“I… I… No! This isn’t happening! This is all a dream! No… No…” A tear formed by my eye. Slowly, it travelled down my cheek. I started to cry.
“I’m sorry, Michael.” The tear vanished into thin air. My eye felt dry. Suddenly, my face straightened. I tried to weep, but couldn’t. I was losing my emotion. I felt empty. My soul was slowly becoming his.

“Please… Give it back… I need a soul…Please… You already have one… Why do you need two?” I whimpered.
“I’m sorry, Michael. I should have told you the whole story before the actual match. It can’t be changed, now. It’s too late to get your soul back. Here. I give this to anyone I beat, normally. You need a special recommendation, though.”

He peeled off a sticker and slapped it on my Master Chief’s armor.
I read the sticker over.

My jaw dropped. My eyes widened. My eyebrows rose.
“You’re… You’re…”
“Yes, Michael. I am.” He interrupted.
I took a step back. “I thought you were gone…”
“Oh, but I was…” He told me. “Let me tell you the whole story…
See, it all started when I first entered the Halo Community. You see, everyone then had something good about them. They would be known all over the Halo community for their feats. Be it art, movies, fan fiction, whatever. But I didn’t have something to be known for. I was a horrible Halo player. I tried and tried to be good at it, but nothing would work. I would play day after day on Legendary, but it wouldn’t work. I tried so hard to get known. So that was when action had to be taken.

One day as I came down the street someone appeared in front of me. He appeared in the form of a suit, sitting on a park bench. He asked me something.
Say, sir, I hear you want to be known in the Halo community? I told him that was true, so he gave me an offer. Do you want to become the best Halo player around? Want to be able to reach unlimited heights? Do you want to be able to get out of any Halo level and be the best trickster known to man? I asked him how, and he gave me a simple offer: All you need to do is give me your soul, and I promise you shall be eternally able to do the impossible on Halo. How does that sound? I thought about it over the next few days very hard. I finally came to the decision that I would agree, and be known around the world for my Halo feats. So, I met him the next day and had an agreement. That was how I bargained with the devil. That’s how I became the Devil’s heir… He promised he would come back for my soul ‘very soon’.

As we had bargained, he gave me unlimited Halo power and soon everyone across the Halo community knew of me. It was awesome.

After waiting months and months nervously and then seeing that he never came, I dropped the whole thing and realized he wasn’t going to come. Or that was what I thought. But on that fateful day he finally came. He wanted my soul. I decided then that souls were too precious, so I ran. And ran. But no, he’s too fast. He caught up, stole my soul and because I tried to escape, he trapped me forever in the world of Halo, unable to get out. And so I decided one day that I would take the soul of someone else to free myself. That was when I found you. So you must replace me, Michael. You must live in the world of Halo forever. I’m sorry, Michael.”

I shook my head. “No, no, NO! You can’t take me! You won’t take me! This is all a dream! No!”
“Please, don’t try to resist. It’ll just make you more delusional. I’m sorry, Michael. Please take this the right way. I must return to my community and tell everyone how I got back. Goodbye.”
“No! No! You will not take me!” I charged towards him. There he stood, smirking. I ran straight through him. I tried punching him, but my arms just sailed straight through his body.

My soul vanished. He disappeared into thin air. I became part of my mind as my body disappeared. The world became waves of yellow. Everything became dizzy. The world spun round and around. My bed, my chair, my computer, they all disappeared as I vanished into the computer.

I was no longer real.

I reawoke in what was left of Battle Creek. The world was still being actively destroyed by the game engine. Everything was falling apart. I fell to my knees. I tried to cry, but couldn’t. I had no emotion. Life was nothing but coding to me, now. Without a soul, I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t laugh. I couldn’t eat. I had no free will, as there was no longer a thing called “free will”. I fell face down onto the dirt of Battle Creek. I looked at the creek, buried in debris as flaming sulphur rained down upon it. Electric storms covered the virtual reality’s sky. I covered my eyes from the stones that hailed down from the sky. And there it was.
It stood there, in plain view. I rushed into the creek, getting my feet wet. I tripped over my pants, falling face down. I crawled as fast as I could over to the wall, narrowly dodging flaming balls of fire. The earth shattered behind me as I crawled.
And there it was. Directly ahead of me, I found it. I found the skull. The skull he had beaten me to death with, but I couldn’t find. The one thing which started all this. This skull was a warning. My skull was the sign of an ass kicking

Down beside it I found a fragmentation grenade. I casually turned my gaze back to the skull- wait. I turned back to the frag. I knew how to end this. Yes, this would all be over.
Of course… I picked up the fragmentation grenade and walked into the middle of the creek. The ground shook. It was hard to stand up. I pried the top of the frag off with my teeth and dropped it below my feet.

WHOOMF! Off it went. I couldn’t feel pain. I had no soul. I was simply the Master Chief who would respawn when he died. There was no end in Halo. However, there was another way to end it all. WHOOMF. WHOOMF. WHOOMF. Three grenades around me set off. And another. And another. Soon, the thousands of grenades around the map would set alight and create one more explosion to finish it all. No, I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was trying to kill the game. Ten more grenades went off. Then more. And then more. When a grenade exploded, the game engine would automatically replace it with another. So, since the game had already screwed up and placed hundreds around the map, hundreds more would come when a grenade exploded. The world was fire. Dust rained from the sky as thousands upon thousands of grenades would explode.

Soon, I was high above the clouds looking down on Battle Creek, now nothing but pure fire.
WHOOMF! The world vanished under the dust and fire. This was it. I did the last thing possible to end it. I dropped my weapon. And I punched. And punched. And punched. I wouldn’t stop punching without a weapon until the end. The engine couldn’t take it anymore. This all wasn’t meant to happen. A choking noise was heard. A beep came. WHEEP!
I finished it. It was over. I destroyed the game engine. The blue screen of death came. The system restarted.
I restarted. I was reborn. Let’s just call it a rebirth.

Bet you didn’t think that would happen, did you? Yeah, well now I’m back. And I want revenge.

I logged onto HBO.

So, which one of you knows where my soul is? Because when I do get it back, the world as he knows it will cease to exist. Good luck, Pfhorever, at keeping my soul. Because you didn’t think destroying Halo could happen, did you? Especially when you’re trapped inside? Yeah, well watch your back, man. I’m still holding the skull in my left hand. It’ll be the last thing you’ll ever see. Good luck.

Right now, I’m still looking at the sticker he gave me.
http://www.boomericaenterprises.com/~konrad/label.jpg

T H E
E N D



Author’s notes:

Concerning Frogblast:
This story in no way has any effect on real life. I reckon you’re an awesome guy, and you are no doubt the greatest trickster alive. This story was just my way of telling how you came back to HBO. I don’t hate you, nor do I want to kill you and hold my skull up to your eyes. I wanted it to sound like a dark and gloomy kind of story, kind of like a Stephen King kind of approach. Oh, and the ending’s to his books suck, IMO.
This whole story is entirely fictional, and I don’t actually live in my computer, believe it or not. In fact, if you think this is real, I will say one word: “Dude.” And Froggy, welcome back, man!

Regarding Fan Fiction:
The whole reason why I didn’t just post this story to fan fiction was because I wanted everyone in the forum to have a great read of this and to give me feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Besides, I believe I haven’t heard Louis speak against posting stories on the forum…

About the game engine:
To be frank, I don’t know a thing about the game engine. Everything about it cracking up is entirely fictional and I am totally out of the loop about game physics. If I get something wrong, beat me with a stick.

Special Thanks:

  • Goatrope, for his awesome first paragraph idea
  • Zeta, for some advice with the story
  • Skavenger_s7 for making kickass stories to inspire me
  • Jillybean for making kickass stories to inspire me
  • Red Loser for making the “Yellow Banshee” site with the awesome articles which inspired me
  • The Halo Soundtrack for providing awesome background tunes to inspire me
  • Konrad for providing hosting for images
  • KP for hosting Konrad’s stuff
  • Winter for inspiring me to do the storm idea (Yes, I live on the other side of the world…)
  • My cat, for sitting on my lap and being cool
  • You for reading this far
  • Oh, and Louis for making HBO exist

    Oh, one more thing: Please, put in your input. The more you give feedback, the better writer I can be.

    ~_^
    © 2004 Michael M.
    The ~_^ logo and everything related to it is a trademark of
    sheer stupidity, so steal it if you want

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    Replies:

    My Skull Was the Sign of an Ass-kicking... Part IIMichael M. 9/24/04 5:41 p.m.
         Re: My Skull Was the Sign of an Ass-kicking... ParThe Mustard Chief 9/24/04 6:02 p.m.
               Or Halo CE in one of the less laggy CTF servers *NM*The Mustard Chief 9/24/04 6:15 p.m.
         I liked it allot - great read - entertaining - gj *NM*Vitron 9/24/04 8:02 p.m.
         Yet again, a very nice read! *NM*Gothmog117 9/24/04 8:26 p.m.



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