Part Eight: Bachelor Party!
FIRST OF ALL, Zelda-Lover, if you are going to give a flame, LEARN HOW TO SPELL! The last time I checked I was grown, so I do what I want. Respect your elders, child. Anyways, here are some MUCH NEEDED answers to a LOT of people's questions. Demonwithasoul: No. This story ain't over 'til the fat Grunt sings!Specter117: The Arbiter eats chocolate mousse through his mouth hole; Goya Adobo makes a Flood tasty; WillardCrispin Glover from the movie 'Willard'; I brought the Prophets back from the dead; and the 1700s gown was left there by some rich chick in the 1700s.
Firefox Rocco: I know Elites don't have lips. They use their mouth hole.
Kai's Dragon: Thanx. FTW! (Feed The Wombats!)
TurMoil 911: Thanx. Eat more chocolate cake!
SPARTAN-45: Thanx 4 everything! Buy a dinosaur.
Lombaxworship: Thanx. Support Pimpin'.
Obsidian Thirteen: I hope the Master Chief is your father! Cuz if he is…you gon' get it! Giggity Giggity!
Zach Martin: Thanx. Give to the Needy Spartans Fund!
Dothacker130: Thanx! And thanx 4 the really funny Christmas carols!
Yomiko the Hellbunny Slayer: Thanx for the 'Know Your Stars Halo Style' fanfic! And thanx again!
Labins: HA!
Mudmag: Tee-Hee!
Virulent Enmity: Giggity Giggity Giggity!
Sir Dik Dik: Thanx! I TOO FOLLOW (and eat) BEEF! WITH A1 SAUCE!
Random Insane Person: Thanx. And thanx again for your extended review. I have been practicing!
Monkey Hood: Thanx…even 4 the flames!
Ototo: Play More Halo. Now. THAT MEANS TODAY, MAGGOT! MOVE MOVE MOVE!
Johnny-Sasaki: Thanx. GIGGITY! GIGGITY!
SimKatze: Thanx. Vote Tartarus!
Nuclear Mage: Thanx. Donate to the Hungry Grunt Fund!
Zuke Zamamee: Cortana was turned human by being placed in a Humanizing Machine. (Just some NONSENSE I made up) Elites never got lips, they use the mouth hole! The bling-bling Grunt? Yayap, the Arbiter's little friend. (Yule see later in the story)
Master 117: Thanx. And I will keep writing!
Emmawatsonshot: Thanx. And I am VERY weird…inna good way.
Spartan 76: Thanx. Donate to the Save the Sewer Rats fund!
InuYasha: Thanx. And you pronounce MJOLNIR like this: (sounding like a retard) ME—OL—NER.
Elite Elite: Thanx. Vote for Orna Fulsamee in November!
Red Blood White Feathers: Thanx. Give Jackal blood to the Red versus Blue Cross.
General Ironwolf: Thanx. Yes, the Arbiter's a boob man…er…Elite.
Da Candyman Can: Thanx. Donate humans to the Hungry Flood Fund!
Atoz: Thanx. Give away molasses to the Sugar Rush Foundation!
EMc2: Thanx. Please don't sue me! Eat snacky smores.
Bulziguy: Thanx. Support the Bum on the Corner. Give him booze. And a nudey magazine.
Robert Archer: Thanx. Eat fried chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. It's tasty!
And thanx to everyone else I probably forgot! Now…The Bachelor Party!
Place: Let Me Get Twenty Dollars, I'll Pay You Back In Four Years Street; Zuke's mansion
"I can't believe you're making me have a bachelor party against Cortana's wishes," John said among hesitation. "I mean, what do I need with some half-naked chick dancing in front of my face when I got Cortana?"
Arbiter and Zuke just stare at him. They both make a whip noise.
"I'M NOT WHIPPED. Just honest."
They make a whip noise again.
"You REALLY need to loosen up," Sergeant Johnson says in the doorway. "It's just some strippers for Goddess sakes."
"Just some strippers?" John asks. "Look, I don't know WHAT you dudes have in mind, but I want no part of it."
"Aww, come on, puny human—I mean John. These are the last days of your bachelorhood," Zuke says. "So enjoy it. I wish I had enjoyed mine…until I married Arbiter's leftovers."
Arbiter turns to Zuke and gently shoves him. "Rena Sachamee is not leftovers." Like some ten year olds, they start going back and forth.
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is too"
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is too times infinity."
"Is not times infinity plus one!"
"DAMN! Anyways, I've already hired a couple of strippers and—" Arbiter is cut off by John's voice.
"YOU WHAT!" Arbiter shows him a picture of the strippers. He suddenly gets a change of heart. "When are they coming?"
"Eight sharp! Woooooooo we gonna see some boobies!" Johnson yells excitedly.
"Yeeeeeeeaaaahhhhhhh! Boo-bies, boo-bies, boo-bies!" Arbiter yells eagerly while squeezing imaginary breasts.
The dudes wait for the strippers. While they are waiting, Tartarus is once again filling his fat mouth with nachos and cheese.
"Can you wait?" Willard asks him, clearly annoyed with his gluttonous eating.
"Shut…(chew chew)…the hell…(smack smack swallow)…UP!" Tartarus yells at him, spraying little wet nacho cheese particles on Willard.
"See what you did to my favorite shirt, you walking, talking blimp!" He yells. Tartarus picks Willard up and throws him across the room; he ends up in the kitchen with his ass stuck in the kitchen garbage can. Frederic walks into the kitchen and finds him stuck in the garbage can.
"Man, what da hell is you doin' in thurr?" He asks.
"Ugh, don't ask," Willard says with embarrassment in voice. Frederic walks out of the kitchen with a big bag of nachos and a can of salsa in his hands.
Meanwhile, Arbiter and John are getting on Zuke's nerves.
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No."
"Are they here yet?"
"No.'
Zuke finally gets tired of the same question.
"Are they here yet?"
"SHUT UP! YOU BOTH ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY! SEE? I'M GOING CRAZY!" He makes some random mental institution noises. "Gdjhadjgiejhfdafnfckiuafiarhfahfjahfjdhjsdjhdfjghuewhfughajkhyeuthjlgakyj!"
John and Arbiter look at each other, then at Zuke, then at Tartarus, then at each other again, then at the Drunken Bum on the Corner, then at Zuke again, then some other dudes, then each other again, then Willard who has a skinny garbage can stuck to his skinny ass, then Johnson, then Frederic, then each other again, then at the strippers----
"Holy birthday cake, John, the strippers are here!" Arbiter says excitedly. Unknown to all the dudes, Linda and Kelly were the original strippers. The Bitch Clique tied them up and put them behind the bushes behind the mansion.
"Who's the lucky man meat getting married to the frump?" Rochelle asks loudly. Arbiter pushes John in the middle of the floor.
"He is!" All the dudes shout in unison.
The bachelor party is just getting started. The Bitch Clique is totally half-naked and shakin' their asses to 2 Live Crew's song 'Doo Doo Brown.' Dollars litter the floor and the dudes are SO drooling.
