Straight Path on Sidewinder.
Morning had just set in on the small snowy valley known as Sidewinder. One could almost fell the stupidity radiating off both teams. The recruits on the red team had awoken for the prep talk from the team leader. The blue team was busy getting drunk.
"Alright, we're here for a game of
Capture-The-Stick-With-A-Fabric-With-A-Design-On-The-Top" said the team captain of the red team, gently stroking his favorite pistol.
"Sir, isn't it called Capture-The-Flag, or CTF?" piped one of the recruits.
The leader shot of a round in his head, and the recruit crumpled to the floor.
"Let's see what the recruitment office gave us." as the leader assembled his men in a line.
The first recruit was trembling in his boots, as the commander's visor was an inch away from his.
"Sonny, what's your name?" questioned the commander.
"B-B-Bobby Billy Bob Joe Bob Bob Joe Billy Bob-"
"Your name is now R2-D2."
"Why, sir?"
"Because I'm an asshole."
The commander marched to the next recruit. He wasn't wearing his helmet. In fact, he was wearing only his underwear and a tee-shirt while playing his CD-player full-blast and sipping on a margarita.
"Private…." said the commander in a low voice. The recruit continued to listen to his tunes.
"Private….." growled the commander in a louder voice. No response.
"PRIVATE!" the commander yelled. His voice tore across the valley, across HALO, across space itself. The sheer loudness of his voice ripped a hole in sub-space and dragged a certain Italian plumber into a new world. But that's another story for another time.
"Yeah, dude?" said the recruit as he took off his catcher's mitt-sized headphones.
"You're stupid." growled the leader.
"Well, how do you think I got this job, dude?" replied the recruit.
"Point taken. And that's sir to you, hippie." said the commander as he walked to the next recruit.
This recruit was huge. A massive block of physical perfection. A mountain of muscle, a tower of toughness, a castle of- well, you get the idea.
"Who are you?" asked the commander.
The recruit took a big gulp of air and said, "ME GRUG! ME HANDLE THE EXPLODIE THINGS! GRUG LIKE SMASH. SMASH GOOOOOOD."
The commander decided to test Grug's smashing power.
"Grug, give that warthog over there a hug." said the commander as he pointed toward a warthog.
"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG!" roared Grug as he trampled toward the vehicle, lifted it off the ground, squeezed it, and split it in half.
"I like." said the leader simply.
"And you are?" asked the commander to a seedy-looking individual.
"My name's John Alley, but I'm not the kind to warm up to anyone very soon. Some consider me evil." Replied the recruit.
Now the leader was interested.
"How evil?"
The recruit smiled.
"I murdered my mother and mauled my father at the age of five. My past years have been hazy, but I do remember committing random genocides and stabbing people on a cold day just to see steam rise from their wounds. Before coming here, I busted out of jail and killed a few girl scouts along the way."
"I'm not impressed." stated the leader.
"You didn't let me finish. I busted out of jail after and killed a few girl scouts along the way, but only after raping a basket of puppies and appearing on "Friends" TWICE."
"I think we'll get along nicely." whispered the commander, smiling.
"Okay, who did I miss?" asked the commander.
"Duuuuuuude, what about that guy that was braggin' about how ghost could own any other vehicle out there?" answered Hippie.
Just then, a voice cracked the air.
"G1-105TS PWN j00!" it shrilled, before the ghost crashed into the western wall of Sidewinder and exploded, obliterating itself and the driver.
"I'm not even going to turn around and look." said the leader as he went back inside the red base to drink himself silly.