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A Comedy of Peace by Jason P.
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A Comedy of Peace
Date: 22 April 2002, 7:37 pm
This is just a little comedy I wrote to see what kind of response I would get. It really has nothing to do with Halo's plotline, and I made no effort to make it "realistic" in relation to the game or the book. It's just something to get you to chuckle at. If I have some positive response, I'll continue it somehow. Please remember that I wrote this in 15 minutes while I was bored. It takes place in a hypothetical situation I've made. The Covenant and Humans have made peace, and now live together. In this somewhat peaceful relationship, we find the Master Chief, now out of a job because there is nothing to fight, yet still famous.
The clock struck 7:00 am, and immediately began blaring its loud buzzing noise. John's eyes slowly opened, glazed from having a few too many drinks the night before. He refused to turn off the alarm, he just didn't want to move. It'll cut off after a while at least, he thought. Just then a grunt, or maybe something closer to a growl came from the room across the hall. Jevorah, once a golden elite, walked in, limping with exhaustion. He slammed his fist down on the clock, smashing it to pieces.
"Why the hell did you do that?" John asked. "We barely make enough money to pay rent, how the hell are we gonna get a new clock?"
"You should learn to wake up by the sun. Besides, the calls are going to start in a few minutes anyway," answered Jevorah, in his growling voice. Jevorah spoke almost perfect English, though with a Germanic accent. During the war, Jevorah was John's Covenant counter-part, the best of the best. He was the youngest elite to achieve the honor of becoming fleet admiral. He had ordered the deaths of over 73 million humans, and now, now he was living in a two-bedroom apartment with his old rival, out of work, dirt poor, and completely without the honor he had known. John was faring no better, but at least he had fans still.... Jevorah rarely got calls, maybe once or twice a month from Grunts and Jackals that had served under him.
"I'm going to take a shower," said Jevorah. "Get the mail will you?"
"Yeah, yeah... even though it's YOUR turn to get the mail."
Jevorah turned on the shower as John walked out the door to their car- a 2530 Chevro-Ford Thunderbolt. It was 40 years old, but it was the closest thing John could afford to the 2565 Thunderbolt Spartan Edition they had named after him. At least it came in the same color as his MJOLNIR armor...
At the post office, John did not need to open his box- he received so much fan-mail that the post-office workers had set up a huge box in the back room for his mail. They had numbered it "117," though there was already another one up front. John couldn't understand why he still got fan mail, especially since he never answered any of it. Cramming the trash bag he brought to hold the mail into the trunk of his car, a letter fell out. He was just about to put it back in when he noticed the Logo on the front- ABCDEFG Studios. He quickly opened up the letter, and was astounded by what he read: Dear John-117,
We at ABCDEFG Studios wish to produce, with your permission, a movie about your fight on Halo. You will play the starring role as yourself if you choose, and the Elite Commander Jevorah may play as a Covenant commander you encountered on the Truth and Reconciliation. Enclosed it a base script of the movie. We sincerely hope you wish to join us in this production.
| | -Sincerely, | | | Steven Spielberg MMXCVI |
Well, John thought, I'm drunker than I thought I was.
John returned home just as Jevorah was getting out of the shower. "Why do you even try to stay clean anyway?" he asked. "You don't have a job, it's not like you're going out on a date or something."
"I have an interview today," Jevorah said
"Oh, and where might that be, the seven eleven?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
John stared at his alien roommate with curiosity. There's no way in hell he's getting a job there. He's 8 feet tall and scares kids on the street by just being spotted.
Later that day, around lunchtime John guessed as he was on his 2nd twelve-pack, Jevorah returned, happier than John had ever seen him. "What have you been smoking?" John asked
"Why my brother, I have gotten a job!"
"No shit? Now maybe you'll pay your share of the rent around here"
"What is that letter on the table?" Jevorah asked, looking at the movie offer John had forgotten about.
"Oh, that.... I found it in the mail today... ABCD.... FHG? Whatever... that really big TV company wants to make a movie about us."
"Why did you not tell me?"
"I thought I was so drunk that I imagined it."
Jevorah walked over to the table and picked up the letter, reading it carefully. "You were not as wasted as you thought, the letter is real!"
"Well then, let's call them"
"We shall... What is the number?"
"Hell if I know..."
"Then we are... what do you say? Screwed?"
"No shit, big guy."
John let out a loud belch, and passed out with his beer in his hand.
"I shall never understand why humans fall unconscious to that liquid... It is really not much worse than the water on the Jackal homeworld.
A Comedy of Peace Part 2
Date: 24 April 2002, 2:22 am
This part is just to tie up some loose ends from the first part that I don't want to get out of control. In here you learn how the MC and Jevorah met. That's basically the entire point actually. "Then we are... what do you say? Screwed?" said the distant voice...
"No shit big guy," John heard himself saying as his vision blurred, obscuring the table rushing up to his head.
Jevorah stood, his eyes slowly moving back from the letter to the drunken "hero" passed out at the table. What irony! He thought, the scene reminding him of when the two first met. Three years before John was dropping shots at a bar to celebrate his so-called retirement. Jevorah was in there, as a bouncer. He was proud to have only had one fight to occur under his watch. He believed it to be his powerful look- the humans gave the credit to the plasma sword he carried around at the time, before John ended up breaking it by temporarily taking up fencing while it was off. That night had been like any other. Jevorah was showing off his sword to the few Grunts and Jackals that frequented the bar. There were no hunters allowed however- their spines tended to rip apart the door-frames, not to mention that beer had a greater effect on them than it did for the average man, leading to thousands of bar brawl deaths by metal shield. While flipping his activated sword in his hand, Jevorah noticed a human, taller than the rest. At least he would have been taller if he wasn't doubled over holding in vomit. The human stumbled forward, falling at Jevorah's feet. The grunts screamed out of surprise, all running wildly out the door and down the busy street. Jevorah somehow recognized the face immediately. He had seen it only once before, when the Master Chief once took off his helmet before a battle to eat. The elite picked John up by the neck, and stared into the glazed eyes. He stood there, staring at the face which looked twisted from hate. In reality he was wincing from the horrible breath that John had. Jevorah sat John down at a table near the door and left him alone for the rest of the night.How John found his apartment the next morning he was not sure about, all he knew was upon waking up and heading out the door, John was sitting on the sidewalk with a liquor bottle wrapped in a paper bag asking for money."Help the needy, help a cripple... Help a poor man learn to walk again!" John was hollering to the people passing by. Too bad his was tapping his feet while he said it to keep the rhythm. Jevorah, not really understanding human ways, invited John in, where he offered to let him stay as long as he paid rent.
Of course now Jevorah had been the one out of a job and John was supporting him. Funny how life could turn around like that. But now, Jevorah thought, neither of us will need to support the other. After this movie we will be rich! Now just to find a number or e-mail or something they could use to contact this Mr. Spielberg.
"WAAAAYKE UUUUUHP!" the booming voice hollered. John jumped up from his drunken sleep. "Why the HELL do you always do that?!" he hollered back.
"Because I have an idea!"
"Well I have an idea too"
"Really?! What may it be?" said the somewhat naÔve alien.
"Take your head and shove it where the sun doesn't shine..."
"Why would I put my head in the closet?"
"Just... never mind. What's your idea?"The Elite jumped up and down from the excitement. "We simply send a letter back to the address that it came from!"
"And you just figured this out when?
"Just now!"
"Yeah, there's a building just down the street. It's called 'The Los Angeles County School for the Mentally Challenged,' you should go there and see what arrangements they have"
"Please brother, this is a time to think about things much bigger than a measly job!"
John rolled his eyes and went back to sleep. Jevorah, tired of watching his friend unconscious at a time such as this, decided to write a letter himself. He began to write the letter, careful to write as neatly as possible. His handwriting still looked like a kindergartner's... a very slow kindergartner... He finished the short paragraph and an hour later, and sealed it in a letter. Not sure how much postage to put on it, he put the entire roll of stamps on and went down to the post office.
John woke up to the sound of the door slamming shut. Oh good, now I can get some real rest. He took another gulp from his beer and let his head crash into the table.
A Comedy of Peace Part 3
Date: 30 June 2002, 3:16 am
Okay, part three, only... 3 months after part two was written. Sorry guys, I've been getting a lot of fan mail from this series, but there's way too much going on for me to write fan fiction regularly, not to mention that I made the grave mistake of letting John and Jevorah get rich, that takes out the fun. I'll keep writing comedies occasionally, but not with this series. So without further ado, I present the final chapter of A Comedy of Peace
Three months had passed since John and Jevorah got the letter that changed their lives. Instead of sitting on a dirty couch watching TV as they would have been, they were now sitting in their own director's chair, watching the filming of a battle scene in their new movie. They were watching the fake battle between marines and Covenant infantry while their attendants applied make-up to them.
"I don't get it. I wear full body armor, and my helmet is never off, why do I have to wear make-up?" asked John
"Yes, I am the same, and I am an alien. Why do we have to wear this make-up?" Jevorah chimed in with.
"Easy sillies! What if your helmets get thrown off in the heat of battle and you have to add-lib?" replied their chief attendant.
Jevorah and John looked at each other. John knew what was about to come out of Jevorah's mouth... he couldn't stop it, though he wished so. He would completely agree with what Jevorah was about to say, but still, human manners kept him somewhat nice about it....
"Is there something wrong with you?" Jevorah asked of the attendant. John rolled his eyes and looked away from the ensuing fiasco.
"CUT!" the director yelled.
"What is it THIS time?" asked John
"You didn't throw him off the bridge right"
"He fell off didn't he?"
"Yes"
"Then how did I not throw him off right?"
"You need to make it look like tripped him. Get your foot closer to his so that it really looks like you're kicking it out from under him."
"May I get up now?" Jevorah asked from the pile of cardboard boxes 30 feet below.
"Only if you learn to fall right!" answered the director.
"There's more than one way of falling?"
"URGH! Why must I work with the mongrels?!"
Another two years pass. The movie is finished, and John and Jevorah have new-found wealth as Hollywood superstars. Actually, make that Milwaukee. Hollywood was destroyed when the Covenant attempted to invade earth, and eventually the movie industry settled in Wisconsin. John and Jevorah became notorious for ignoring fans, John out of impatience, Jevorah out of fear. Neither could forget the media frenzy that occurred when Jevorah said he was scared of human children in an interview.
A month after the movie's release, John and Jevorah were sitting on a yacht in the Bahamas drinking wine, surrounded by the sexiest female specimens of their species. John was still a little weirded out by seeing naked Elites. (Humans still called them Elites, their self-proclaimed name can't be pronounced by human tongues). Jevorah simply wanted to know why the humans' chests were bulging. He tried to convince the women to see a doctor about it. If it weren't for John intervening earlier, he would have gotten a slap in the jaws.
"So what does Jevorah mean anyway?" John asked of his friend.
"You mean you don't know? It is the same as John in out language."
"No kidding?"
"Why would I joke?"
"This sounds like a cheesy ending to a movie, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does. Good think no one is watching us."They were interrupted by a Jackal bringing them drinks. As the sun faded in the sky, the two looked at each other, and turned back to the beautiful ladies surrounding them.
Quite a crappy ending huh? Well, It's 11:30, I've had a headache the past two weeks, and I absolutely needed to end the series just so that it wasn't left open. Oh well... see you in another year or two.
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