Preface:

If you didn't figure it out by the description, you've probably figured out by now that this isn't just a Mass Effect/Star Wars crossover. It's got everything.

Right about now, you're figuring, "I should bail. I don't know Halo. I don't like Star Trek. Fuck this!" Well, fuggin' stay with it my dude. None of that shit matters. All you gotta know is what I tell you, and my benevolent co-author Google will tell you the rest.

So just lay back, put your laptop on your chest, pop open a cold one (Mountain Dew is preferred), light one up (a marijuana is preferred) and read some stupid shit with your boi Fug. I promise it won't be too shitty.

CHAPTER 3

Crisis Mode Activate

Stars twinkled. Wind blew. Lazers crisscrossed the perilous skies above Earth.

The Honorable Ser Shepred looked on with a conviction only possible for a man with no fear and three erect nipples. From the corner of his eye he could see the 1000 Year Bird floating nearby, and he wondered why they had not obeyed his command and did anything, but then he saw the Enterprise and realized that they weren't doing anything either. Actually, pretty much nobody in his fleet was fucking doing anything. Shepard inhaled and exhaled slowly. He had to keep his cool. If he kept his cool, everyone would think he was a pretty cool guy. If he didn't, well… let's just say there aren't enough assholes to forcibly prolapse on the SSV Normandy.

Yeoman Kelly Chambers approached hesitantly. Shepard could smell her perfume. It didn't arouse him because it was too feminine (disregard that), but he groped her anyway. She had learned not to recoil at his touch, but when she thought about it, her nostrils winced. Don't put it in there again, she thought. Please don't put it there. Her nose was dry and not properly lubed for the occasion, so Shepard considered, but eventually declined the nonexistent invitation to nasal sex. Kelsey let out a sigh of relief. "I-is there anything wrong, c-Commander?"

Shepard turned to look at her, his eyes boring holes into her retinas. He let out the longest fart that she had ever heard. His eye contact never broke, and Chelsea didn't dare look away. The flatulence was so pungent and the gentle diminuendo was so beautiful that she began to weep. After an hour and thirty six minutes of menacingly staring at his secretary while making a majestic ass raspberry, Shepard finally smiled. "That will be all, wife."

Left alone again with only his thoughts and his Fleshlight, Sephard gazed longingly at the galaxy map. He zoomed in on a particularly sexy planet - the one with the conveniently shaped crater, you know the one. After blowing a load into his Mako-shaped masturbatory tool and glaring at his crew to make sure they all gave him eye contact, he decided to retire to his captain's cabin. This was the endgame, and everybody knows that with the endgame comes sexy times with the crew (as if that planet wasn't sexy enough).

After a 5 hour bender with the Space Hamster (as some terrified Space Fish looked on), Sehperd was exhausted. He took a little bitty nappy nap in his bed, gazing at the stars above. He saw some hairy fucker in a spacesuit drift by his window, but he paid him no mind. When he awoke, the battle would continue, as it has for all eternity. Soon, the Earth would have its own conveniently-shaped crater, and he would take the real Mako down for a… ride.

"Goodnight, Master Chief," whispered Shepard before he blew out the last candle.

The Chief stood silent and motionless; Commander Clifford wouldn't have had it any other way.

After seeing some truly disturbing shit through the window of the Normandy, The Chewiest continued on his way to installing nitrous on the Captain Falcon. This was a difficult procedure, so when he got to the engines, he took a moment to prepare and prayed to his furry-assed God to help him in his time of need. He heard a voice - far off, yet deep and comforting - calling from the distance...

"Fuck that shit up, fam."

Ser Chester Bacca, fourth of his name, let out a primal "YEYAH" and promptly smacked that shit on the engine. A job well done, he wiped his brow, which, in this case, was just the visor of his spacesuit. That was one of the hardest jobs he had done since the Rwookrrorro sewage backup of '89. He proceeded back to the airlock and dropped trou. Luckily for Chewus, Leia came around the corner at that instant. She yelped in surprise, but to our hero's dismay, she beheld not his furry member, as it was properly obscured with more fur. The Chewmeister then let out a grunt that imitated the cry of the great tarantatek, a force beast so powerful that it could coerce a Jedi Master into choking himself to death on his own Johnson.

Anyway, Leia ran away again and Han came to give him a big ol' hug. Unfortunately, the cry of the tarantatek made our furry hero quite turgid, and the hug was more awkward than most he had encountered in his travels with Mr. Solo. They promptly made like a banana and split (hyuk hyuk hyuk) and took the old clunker right up to the Death Star/Citadel genital superstructure megazord.

Now within range of the penile tip of the Citadel, they were clear to engage the fabled Swagtor Beam®.

"Engage the Swagtor Beams!" said Dr. Hans Olo.

"Yeah man, press the button, muchacho," concurred Sullustan McRacist Hernandez.

Chewman pressed a button. He thought it was the right button, but nothing happened. Instead, he was met with a voice that said "ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word" every time he pressed it. Now exceedingly enraged, our hero, New England Clam Chewder, went into CRISIS MODE.

Now, dear reader, CRISIS MODE is a very special metagame for our hero Chubocka. When he enters CRISIS MODE, his base attributes change. However, he has to roll above a 15 at least 4 times in a row.

Mr. Hands, sensing Chew-E's CRISIS, hastily reached into his cavernous anal cavity and procured his d20. Chewy grabbed it with a primal roar and threw it to the ground. It came up immediately:

19.

He picked it up and hurled it again, this time with a screech that would cause a mynock to have an explosive miscarriage.

17.

"Madre de dios!" cried the guy whose name is actually Nien Nunb. Another throw.

15.

Han squealed. "Holy shit, Chag-man! You barely got that one!"

Chew roared in his face with all the ferocity of a fuel efficient sports sedan. He then lifted the d20 above his head and uttered a prayer to Space Jesus, Hairy Jesus, RNGesus, Toyota Prius, and all the other Jesuses that he could think of, and dropped the die.

20.

Suddenly and without warning, there was a blinding flash of light and a deafening noise. Han, Manny, and Leia could only squint and cover their ears as a blue-haired, strangely-proportioned, massively muscular Japanese man emerged from the 5th dimension and yelled "EVORUSHON OVERDURAIIIVUUUU!"

Next time on Untitled Fan Fiction -

Our hero Chewie has evolved - but who's to say he'll be there when the smoke clears?

Fetty Bobe makes an appearance!

Commander Shepard continues to bring the laughs (and the gasps!)!

Lukey boy comes under some trouble with his dad!

Will the Enterprise do anything?

Find out next time on MASS EFFECT 3: X-TENDED CUT!

REFERENCES

Para. 11 & 12 - Rwookrrorro is not a made-up word. Remember, Kashyyyk has three Y's. Three! Rwookrrorro is the wookiee village you go to in Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. The other KotOR reference here is the tarantatek, which is a really tough opponent to fight in the game.

Last paragraph - This is a reference to JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. And don't worry - it's only going to get more bizarre.

- The main protagonist of JoJo part 1 is Jonathan Joestar, and he has a moveset that involves him putting "overdrive" at the end of the names of all his attacks, but in "Engrish" it comes out more like "obehduraivu".

The whole of "Crisis Mode" is something I came up with while playing D&D with some of my friends. I was shoehorned into their campaign and given an existing character's animal companion as my character, so I was super bored, and they were essentially telling me what to do instead of me being my own character. I decided that I would add my own metagame, which involved me rolling a 15 or above 4 times in a row. I had already rolled new attribute scores, and I was going to change to those if Crisis Mode succeeded. It never did, and everyone in the campaign called me an idiot and ridiculed Crisis Mode. But that's what you get for trying to play the way you wanna play, I guess.