Master Chief: The Case of the Missing Assault Rifle

by MyNameDylan

Oh No! Master Chief's assault rifle has gone missing! Can he find where it is, who stole it, and how to get it back? NOTE: This is not entirely universe-accurate, and is not supposed to be. It is a short comedy story. This story was created using Randumbness: Random Story Generator /story-generator/)

1. Chapter 1

It all started when our predictably heroic hero, Master Chief, woke up in a disease-infested jungle. It was the seventh time it had happened. Feeling really concerned, Master Chief stroked a live hand grenade, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). In a tragically predictable turn of events, he realized that his beloved Assault Rifle was missing! Immediately he called his so-called best friend, Kelly. Master Chief had known Kelly for (plus or minus) 1.2 billion years, the majority of which were electric ones. Kelly was unique. She was charismatic though sometimes a little... clueless. Master Chief called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Kelly picked up to a very glad Master Chief. Kelly calmly assured him that most long-haired sea monkeys cringe before mating, yet albino cats usually charismatically belch *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Master Chief. Why was Kelly trying to distract Master Chief? Because she had snuck out from Master Chief's with the Assault Rifle only nine days prior. It was a sassy little Assault Rifle... how could she resist?

It didn't take long before Master Chief got back to the subject at hand: his Assault Rifle. Kelly sighed. Relunctantly, Kelly invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Assault Rifle. Master Chief grabbed his refrigerator and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Kelly realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the Assault Rifle and she had to do it carefully. She figured that if Master Chief took the rice rocket, she had take at least three minutes before Master Chief would get there. But if he took the Warthog? Then Kelly would be alarmingly screwed.

Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, Kelly was interrupted by nine insensitive Brutes that were lured by her Assault Rifle. Kelly cringed; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling worried, she carefully reached for her gerbil and aimlessly hit every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent-the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the bush, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the Warthog rolling up. It was Master Chief.