"So was that worth it?" Cortana muttered smugly.
"Let's not talk about it anymore alright?" Master Chief retorted, as he swept up the moldy mess splashed all over the floor, with a sense of irritation and embarrassment. Entire shelves were laid on their side, with smashed jars and obliterated cardboard containers strewn in the aisle underneath them. Master Chief's demeanor was one that seemingly was ignoring the huge mess in front of him.
"Oh yea, the huge gaping hole left in the side of the super market is completely inconspicuous and is easily ignored! Wait, where did it go? I must have forgotten already!" Cortana barked sarcastically, as chunks of concrete debris crumbled loose from the expanse of a wide open wall.
"Well, I think the new breeze here is wonderful," Master Chief retorted cannily, "Consider it an upgrade."
Cortana groaned in agony, "Chief, really, why did you have to confront the Arbiter earlier? I mean, what'd you think would come out of it?"
"I don't know, maybe a few melees here and there… Maybe even an assassination..."
"…But instead you manage to blow a hole in the wall…"
"Hah, that was a pretty good one right? Tie some propane tanks together from households and bam!" he clapped, "You have an over kill in the making, or maybe even a…"
"Please Chief! At least pretend like you're reflecting upon your actions!" Cortana interrupted insistently.
"Well it's in the past anyways! Which is why the past, is indeed the past!" Chief spouted out ignorantly before dropping his arms down, "Time to go home."
"Wait what? Home? It's not even 3 in the afternoon!" Cortana shouted in disbelief.
"Hah, do you think I wanna be here when the fat man comes back to see the hole in the wall? I don't think so! See?" Chief muttered condescendingly while tapping the helmet with his index finger, "You've got to think ahead at times like these," he scoffed condescendingly. "That's why I'm the hero who saved mankind, quick thinking and avoiding responsibility for my mistakes."
"Well, if I were in control of your body, this wouldn't even be an issue," she retorted in frustration.
"Yes yes, well don't worry about it Cortana. When tubby asks me tomorrow, I'll just blame it on Arby," he explained with pair of claps as if the answer were obvious, "Problem solved."
"Then the Arbiter will just blame you!"
"…and who's he going to believe? That big naked alien who had led the armies that tried to eradicate mankind? Or me?"
Cortana sneered, "Well that's a tough decision, with your magnetism for mayhem and destruction."
"Oh hah, hah, hah Cortana. Please, give me some credit here." Chief tapped his visor a few times to bring up some information in his hud, "Well looks like I'll be walking home, just missed the Pony Express. Great."
"It could be worse, you know. I'm sure we can find a more decent way to get out of here."
"Yea well, Cortana, in all honesty you're not the one doing the traveling you free loading artificial intelligence system."
"I'm made of pure energy and I don't even have mass to free-load with!"
"Excuses, excuses!"
"Hey, Tin Man, you look like you're about to bounce, you need a ride?" Johnson shouted while walking up behind Master Chief.
Chief sighed with grief as he turned himself around, "Look, the last thing I need is need you rubbing your fancy vehicles up in my face, just because you're rapping as MC Johnson or whatever you are called."
"That's Sar-Jay, Chief. Don't you ever watch MTV?"
Cortana chuckled in Chief's helmet, "That's right Chief, I thought you were up on your chart smashing hits."
"As if MTV plays music anymore. That pimp hat seems a little tight. It must be cutting of the circulation to your brain. And in reference to your offer," he said tilting his head back down toward the pimped-out Sergeant, "I reject, emphatically."
Johnson scoffed in amusement, "Well I see how it is, your loss garbage can. Don't hate me for being a rousing success." Johnson threw up his lime green pimp-coat and popped his collar confidently, "But it's a good thing I've got an insurance policy."
"Insurance policy?" both Cortana and Chief choked up with a puzzled look.
"Yea, hey big man, you need a ride to… wherever your charming kind, live?"
Chief arched back in horror and shock, as the Arbiter popped his head out from over the mangled grocery shelf in a childishly excited manner, "I would greatly appreciate transportation to my living quarters."
"Ouch!" Cortana poked, "Looks like you've been replaced on the list Chief!"
Master Chief felt offended, and let a small puff of steam out of the vents of his Mark VI armor. "Wait just a second here, you're not going to replace the Chief with this guy," Chief grumbled in disbelief and aggravation, "You're talking about going from having an entourage, to driving the short bus. You're taking me home, move along Arby."
"What! He had just requested that I join him on his departure, not you, indecisive and pompous Demon!" the Arbiter shouted before effortlessly walking through the shelf, as the metal tore and creaked, tossing the remaining products to the ground.
Cortana could only groan at the continued demolition of the supermarket property.
"Well he's taking me now, so tough luck man... thing. Heroes before zeroes."
"You are the zero, Demon! I will be departing with this flamboyant human, not you!"
Johnson launched back in surprise, "Flamboyant?"
Chief chuckled lightly, "Poor delusional Arby, didn't you learn from my cluster bomb earlier? Who's the man here? I am."
"Relax, relax you two with your nincompoopery! There's space for both of your big asses!" Johnson declared, poking each of the two with his jewel-encrusted pimp cane.
"In-that-case-shotgun!" Chief barked out very quickly, pumping his fist in victory after, trotting past Johnson as he watched him walk by.
"The only shotgun you shall receive is the one I shall plunge into your loathsome face, Demon!"
"Wah, wah, baby Arbiter wants his bottttttle," Chief coaxed from a distance as he continued to walk away.
Outside the shopping center, the three emerged from the smoldering and gaping hole in the side of the supermarket, as if it were intended to be a portcullis from the very beginning. Rubble from the hole continued to spill down the sides as Master Chief blissfully ignored the horrible conditions he was leaving the place in.
"Ah," he states upon cresting the rubble hill to see the one vehicle that had not been completed crushed by the debris in the VIP section of the parking lot. "A Revenant? They make these things for consumers now?"
"This is a fine vehicle, Demon. You are jealous of our fine engineering techniques, no?" the Arbiter added as he approached from behind.
"Pfft, as if. You know… the fuchsia really brings out the best in your race's masculinity," Chief quipped with an intentionally obvious sarcastic tone.
"Gender attacks Chief? That's just too easy with the Covey, you should be ashamed!" Sergeant Johnson barked from atop the hill of rubble, having a significantly harder time climbing up than the others. He deliberately continued to keep his climb deliberate, keeping his slick pimp coat as clean as possible.
"I wonder… could this be?" Chief exclaimed suddenly.
"Oh no… Don't even think about it Chief!" Cortana pleaded.
The Arbiter straightened himself up and looked down at the craft with glowing beady black eyes, "This would be our infuriating and wretched supervisor's mode of transportation…"
Both Master Chief and the Arbiter glared at the vehicle, apparently on the same wavelength in terms of sinister ideas.
Cortana belted out over Chief's loud speakers, "Now I know you guys don't like the guy…"
"The correct verb for the emotions I hold for this individual would be 'abominate'" the Arbiter cut in quickly.
"That's not the point! Don't you two have any regard for the repercussions of doing anything to mess with your supervisor?"
A moment of silence ensued as the two looked at the vehicle, and then each other.
"Are you two proud of yourselves?" Cortana grumbled from the speakers on Chief's helmet.
"Extremely," Chief nodded from the passenger's seat of Sergeant Johnson's personal civilian class Warthog, which currently was barreling down the highway. The Warthog, was as flashy and shimmering as Sergeant Johnson himself, painted entirely lime green with an excessive amount of decals placed at ever flat surface of the warthog. Most of the decals were of money, gemstones, lewd shots of women, and Johnson's own face – different expressions with every location.
"Such retribution was justified for such an insignificant runt," the Arbiter added, taking up the entire back section of the Warthog, popping his head between Johnson and Chief's seats to be head through the bustling winds.
"That poor guy, I wonder what he's going to do now!" Cortana mutter woefully and compassionately.
Chief cackled in response, "Yea I wonder…"
"*GASP* Oh no! My precious Revvy, what has happened to you!" Goro'maar wept, as he tumbled himself up to the barely recognizable vehicle. The once pristine and impressive Revenant, now looked like a huge white Twinkie, completely covered in what looked and smelled to be shaving cream.
Goro'maar wiped off some of the cream, jerking his head away in disgust, "Whew! This disgusting foam stinks!" Although, despite his utter distress over his car, the sound of rocks falling drew his attention as he looked up at the smoldering hole he somehow managed to miss at first glance. "ooooOOOh!" he grunted in a high pitched and shocked tone, recoiling in disbelief at the sight before him. "Big fat human boss, coming back soon! Goro in charge of maintaining facilities! Goro is in BIG BIG trouble! YAHHHHH!" he wailed as he ran away from the supermarket, flailing his arms in such a recognizable fashion.
"…Oh I wonder," Chief continued, nodding in pleasure of the almost guaranteed distress he had left behind for his pitiful Grunt supervisor.
"You take too much pleasure in the pain of others, don't you Chief…?" Cortana hissed.
"Now, now, Cortana… Let it be known that I only take pleasure in being this awesome. But on that note, Johnson, you have any music in this thing that I can play in order to divert the attention from the current topic at hand?"
Cortana choked up, "At least pretend not to be obnoxious!"
"Oh… Chief, I'm glad you asked! What would the Sar-Jay mobile be, without my number one record on board?" Johnson exclaimed, holding up a small plastic card with his face on it, fully endowed with what appeared to be an impressively shiny platinum grill in his teeth.
"Oh boy… brace yourself Arby, this might melt your ear holes… Earth rap is nothing to covet from our race."
"Hush up, Chief, and prepare to hear the best jam you'll have the pleasure of listening to. This one's called 'What The Ladies Like'"
As Johnson popped in the card into his dashboard, he followed by banging his cane stylishly to start the playback. The speakers become endowed with a thick and electronic beat immediately, having been suitably cranked up by the smug Sar Jay.
Hey all you maggots, welcome to the Sar Jay Show,
Only place where all you bitches get to hear that flow,
Figure me gone countless times, goin' out in flames,
Only to rise from those ashes, bitches I'm back again!
Alien bastards came to town, trying to run my show,
Don't even know why they even had to come here fo',
Leadin' my legions of soldiers, kickin' ass and takin' names,
All while babysittin' a pain in the ass, big tin can!
Yea, "Master Chief, blah blah blah, did this and that,"
Yea, with a bullet-proof helmet, while all I had was a hat!
I'd be nice to have a bullet proof shield while you're saving the world,
While in conditions that leave soldiers keeling over to hurl,
But not Sar Jay, no way, uh uh, no chance,
I dive my ass in, and take control of this dance!
Cause I bring the all of the style to the UNSC,
Fightin' a war to keep you helpless bitches safe and free!
Cause I'm Sar Jay, A-vizzle, A Double J and Boss,
Call me whatever you like, ain't gonna matter, hoss (horse)!
Cause the most rootenist, tootenist,"Just shut up and shoot"-enist badass mutha this world ever will see.
I fight the good fight, and I do it in style,
Figure all of you could stand back and watch this shit for a while,
I'm a beautiful man, I get them all standing in glee.
Cause I know just what the ladies like, and that would be me.
Now haters, don't get bent out of shape, get all moody,
It only reminds me of all that time I spent with the alien nudey.
Another chump that you confused people figure savin' the day,
Strutting his big ass self around in ugly purple and gray.
Watchin' after these two nincompoops, and all the mayhem around em,
I'm the only sorry bastard without his own special anthem!
There's no respect for Johnson, just no love for the leader,
Just labeled as support along with the other bottom feeders!
But don't let that crap fool you, I'm still a lot of folks' fav,
Cause when I die, I'll take you with me with a kill from the grave!
When I die over and over, it don't matter what ends,
I'll just come back from the dead, just to up and kill all your friends!
I'm too valuable a sucka to be killed like a foo,
I bring the fire to all the legendary things that I do!
"Come here you ugly bastard, a plasma nade for your face!"
*Sizzle, BOOM* Score another one for the fierce human race!
Cause I'm Sar Jay, A-vizzle, A Double J and Boss,
Call me whatever you like, ain't gonna matter, hoss (horse)!
Cause the most rootenist, tootenist,"Just shut up and shoot"-enist badass mutha this world ever will see.
I fight the good fight, and I do it in style,
Figure all of you could stand back and watch this shit for a while,
I'm a beautiful man, I get them all standing in glee.
Cause I know just what the ladies like, and that would be me.
Master Chief sat there in his seat staring through his visor in confusion, unsure what to think of what he was listening to, as Sergeant Johnson continued to bob his to his own music.
"You like that bad ass beat, don't you Chief?" Johnson gloated, pounding the steering wheel to the beat at the end of the song as it tailed off to the end.
"What was that auditory abortion that I had the great displeasure of tolerating out of courtesy for this flamboyant human?" the Arbiter asked in all seriousness from behind.
"Stop calling me 'flamboyant' leather face!" Johnson barked back.
"Oh c'mon, you know you could never be courteous, Arby – Your gorilla like kind don't know how to be something nice like that," Chief quipped, waving his hand in a dismissing fashion.
"Do you wish to be consuming that dashboard, Demon bastard?"
"And Johnson," Chief continued, completely ignoring the Arbiter's empty threats from the back seat, "That was awful… simply awful!" Chief seemed very pleased with himself, in the pleasant and buttery tone of his criticisms.
"Also… what is this about my pigment being considered this word, 'ugly'" the Arbiter grunted, "I am offended, and would squish your head like a grape, had you not been offering my transportation."
"Yea!" Chief added, "All that stuff you said was simply not true! None of it. Well, actually all the stuff about Arby seems pretty spot on, but other than that, nothing."
"Chief, stop stirring up people's hostility in such high speed and confined areas please!" Cortana pleaded, feeling the killing intent rising from the two who were being burned by the crass commentary Master Chief had for the both of them.
"As I said before, don't hate me for being a great success. Remember this you two, number – one –hit," Johnson pointed out, gesturing each of the final three words.
Although as he wrapped up his blabber, a sudden siren bellowed from behind the vehicle, as a local causeway patrol vehicle flew up behind the vehicle.
"Ah, the fuzz?" Chief choked up turning back in shock.
"Fuzz, what are you a teenager? You're supposed to be the Master Chief!" Cortana barked.
"What the heck, Johnson, are you speeding?" Chief shouted as he peered over to the dash and took a peek at the speedometer console. "335 k/hr?"
"Of course, I'm not a snail on the road, Chief – I've got places to be!"
"I was curious as to why it was so breezy in the cockpit of this vehicle…" Arbiter commented in a serious attempt to sound logical.
"Oh man!" Chief slumped into his chair, crossing his arms in a child-like fashion, as Johnson pulled the glittery Warthog to the side of the road.
"Cool it Tin Man, I'll handle this. I'm a celebrity of course, we get free passes!"
As Johnson fixed his collar, he reached into his glove box and took out an outrageous pair of lime green matching sunglasses to put on. Up the side, the officer in the patrol vehicle saunter his way with a confident swagger up the side, tapping the side of the vehicle as a form of intimidation, glaring at the decals and decorative paint job.
"So, Mr. Flashy pants, you late for an important date or something?"
Looking up Johnson immediately recognized the face before him, "Wha… What the hell, Buck? Eddie Buck?"
"Hey… No one calls me Eddie, it's just Buck… Wait…" the officer stuttered, "Is that you? Avery Johnson? Sergeant Johnson?"
"Ah… Gunnery Sergeant Eddie Buck!"
"Uh… It's just Buck, but that's okay… How have you been doing sir?" he exclaimed patting the flashy Johnson on his shoulder.
"Oh quite alright, I'm sure you've heard of me around the airwaves."
"Oh of course I have, you'd have to be living under a rock, or be a completely lame unhip loser to not know of Sar Jay."
Johnson, smirked and promptly leaned his head back towards Master Chief and the Arbiter in a suggestive manner.
"Oh please, I'd much rather be completely unaware about music like that anyways," Chief huffed, looking straight ahead with an aura of irritation about him. "I might damage what's left of my human ears with such an auditory onslaught."
"Hey, wise guy over there. Have some respect for the talent of Sar Jay! Do you know who this man is? He's a legend that you should esteem and adore!"
"Glad to know I get my due respect from some people," harped while pushing his sunglasses back onto the ridge of his nose in a smug fashion.
"Hmm… Wait a second…" Buck stopped, leaning over to get a better look, "You look a little different from your run of the mill Spartan…"
"Oh, I'm just that obviously overlooked legend that you should be esteeming and adoring," Chief grunted haughtily.
"Human law enforcer, are you truly not familiar with the exploits of Jonathan?" the Arbiter asked, leaning in from the back.
Buck recoiled at the sight of the Elite's mandibles flapping around before him, obviously not used to the up close interaction with the former enemy. "Uh, Jonathan? Who's that?" Buck asked, seeming confused more by the name than whether he recognized him or not.
"Yes Arby, who's this Jonathan you speak of? No one here goes by that name, remember?" Master Chief noted, pointing up underneath the alien's mouth.
"Jonathan? You mean you're John-117? Master Chief?"
"Oh so you do know of me then?"
"Of course I have! You're pretty famous you know!"
Master Chief leaned back and grabbed his helmet's visor confidently, "Well ain't that the truth." Chief chuckled to himself, taking in the praise pompously.
"You're a sure bet to make all of the history books, that for sure. Now I can say I met a hero!" Buck huffed before breaking out in laughter, having been legitimately impressed.
"Whoa, wait a second, what do you mean history?" Chief cut in, turning his bad in a jerking motion.
"History books, John. You know, those places where has-beens are written about for the things they did, that no one remembers."
Master Chief tilted his head in the direction of Johnson, with only the glare of his helmet's mask giving off the aura of irritation.
"What? Don't blame me for pointing out the fact that you're about as memorable to these people as my morning bowel movement. Only difference is you don't smell quite as bad."
"Ouch! Oh wait, what's that sound – I think it's your ego going up in flames, Chief!" Cortana joked.
Tapping his helmet and brushing off the commentary from Johnson, "Keep quiet in there."
The Arbiter in the back began chuckling under his breath in entertainment, "I express laugher because this is true. The Demon, indeed, closely resembles human fecal matter!"
"Now that's it! I can take you and Johnson having fun at this hero's expense – but not this guy back here with a sense of humor as thin as Powderwipe brand, single ply toilet paper."
"Ah Chief, that's impressive! You seem quite knowledgeable of your toiletries," Johnson added, "I see all the experience in the field at the Elysium City Shopping Centre…" tailing off into restrained laughter, "is coming into good use…!"
Master Chief glared at Johnson through his visor with a tailing grunt f frustration.
Buck, finishing off his laughter at the expense of the now quieted Spartan in the passenger seat, he pulled out his notepad still chuckling, "So do you guys have any idea of how fast you were going?"
Sergeant Johnson straightened up, "Uh… Maybe 120 km/hr or so."
Buck looked back for a moment before laughing, "Oh that's a good one sir, indeed it is!" Buck shook his head, still smiling as he scribbled into his notepad studiously. Before Johnson could say anything in his defense, Buck ripped the ticket out of his pad and handed it over, "Sorry sir, but you were going three times the limit. Wish I could overlook it, but the bright colored blur down the highway was pretty hard to miss…"
"No worries," Johnson commented plucking the ticket from Buck's hand, "I'll have one of my many bankers take care of this."
But as Buck tucked his notepad away, while Johnson rearranged himself in his seat in preparation to leave, Buck's radio attached to his shoulder blurted out a dispatch report. "Attention all units, reports of an explosion at 48 Magnacion Highway - location the Elysium City Shopping Centre – All units report, there are suspects that fled the scene in… *laughter* what appears to be a bejeweled, lime green Warthog…"
Sergeant Johnson grumbled, "It's not bejeweled dammit, these are real pure cut diamonds…!" before he suddenly shut himself up, seeing Buck staring them down in the car. "Oops."
"We're going to prison, aren't we…?" Cortana whimpered.