Told ya it sucked.
We defeated the big bad ape, and I made Johnny D put the controller down. I looked at him and I said “congrats ninja, you beat halo 2.”
He looked at me and asked “umm that’s it?”
“Yep that’s it” I said as I watched the end cut scenes, and credits roll by.
“No it can’t be.” He looked at the TV almost wistful, like I told him Santa took a dump in his cereal.
“Yeah that’s it. Now you know why I hate it so much?”
“What happend to the chase scene, like at the end of Halo 1?” He looked at the screen again, “What about the fight for earth? Why are the prophets dicks? Where did the three years go?”
“They were lazy, bungie lied, the prophets are small dicked sterile assholes, and the time went down the toilet” I replied back as the credits ended.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me. When is the next one coming out? Soon right, or there is going to be downloadable content?” Johnny threw his controller onto the floor and lit a smoke.
“No I’m not, they didn’t officially announce the next one. Rumor has it, it’ll be for the xbox 2…”
“Wait so I’m going to have to drop around 300 so I can pick up a $50 dollar game that should have been released two years ago?” He asked.
“Yeah, this was a giant trailer for Halo 3 pretty much.”
“What were they doing for three years?”
“Adding two handed capability, too bad they forgot to include ammo for the human weapons.”
“The next one better kick ass or I’m going to be fucking pissed.”
I tried to cheer Johnny up at this point. “Hey man, at least we have halo 1.”
“…”
“Hey man come on, hours avoiding Barbara. Saving mankind like men, the library. Remember, it’s not so bad we always will have that.”
“Yeah.” He said as he was pouting.
“Come on… Remember that time I sacrificed myself so you can live so you can escape in one piece?” Johnny stayed silent. “For the colony buddy remember?”
He finally cracked a smile. “Yeah.”
Si headcase walked in at this point. “You two are fucking sick, it’s a video game.”
“Shut up bitch, as you were dreaming of Bon Jovi, and playing with barbies we were out there saving your ez bake oven from a Covie armada. You don’t talk to vet’s like that.”
“Fine NO MORE christmas cookies for you.” She slammed the door.
“Psycho, I’m sorry come on…”
