Unhinged Polygons: Zombie Repellant
“Don’t get into the Warthog Jimmy.” I told my friend, warning him of the possible snipers in the area. The battlefield was quiet and a lone Rocket-hog sat in the middle of it. It was suspicious, usually it was fought for and Jimmy was known for getting into it first.
“Don’t worry Tony, I’ll just get it really quick and drive off before anyone can hit me.” He then casually strutted out of the cave and toward the Warthog, jumped in, and was instantly plucked out of gameplay from a head-shot.
This is one of the many scenarios I face during the frequent Halo Parties I attend. I was obliged to be invited to another in the same week from a different group of friends, two in one week. I was beginning to think that life couldn’t get any better than this. Mountains of Pizza boxes and Dr. Pepper cans became the latest pieces of furniture and the headsets were starting to bend our ears in a shape any Trekkie would be proud of.
The First one was composed of the friends with whom I work with; Jimmy, Ken (Kenny), and Mark. The invitation was obvious after an argument erupted after I said that I could get the Killimanjaro medal, Mark was skeptical and challenged me to a Slayer match. I came as soon as I could to his place, arriving when he least expected it. The first match was an Infection and I was one of the defending players. Since it was on ONI Sword base a good spot could be found in various places and prepared myself by procuring a shotgun before the herd of zombies came running towards me. It took seconds for the rampage to begin.
Two zombie. Double Kill.
Three zombie. Triple Kill.
Four and Five zombie. Zombie Killing Spree.
Mark was now getting concerned.
Six zombie. Killtrocity.
Mark’s face was then breaking into a sweat.
Ten. Hell’s Janitor.
Mark threw his fist into his lap in defeat.
A few seconds later a voice shouted “Hell’s Jerome!” and the entire room around me went silent. It was only when the match ended that I could see everyone’s face in utter amazement and shock. Mark shook his head then my hand, and said “Good one Marn, didn’t think you could do it.” but what he was really saying was “I will now eat my shoe.”.
It was out of luck, but I knew I could do it. For the rest of the night I was treated like Major Nelson…well, almost I suppose.
Next time you want to challenge me remember this, Don’t Mess with The Marnray.