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Chapter Four: Subtle Changes
There was a giant factory, being run by what appeared to be thousands of elves. They were operating machinery using technology that seemed far beyond even the Covenant's capabilities. This technology could be turned into so many warfare related materials that to Chief it was perfect. Stately. Beautiful.
The original elf (whose name is still a mystery) looked up at Chief smiling and handed him a golden key.
"Well I guess you've figured out by now how it works." The elf stated cheerfully, "You're the new Santa, which means that you'll be in charge of delivering presents this year."
Sergeant Candy (who had a mouth full of candy canes and gingerbread cookies) looked up at Chief.
"Presents?" He asked, barely understandable.
The elf nodded and let out a "Merry Christmas" before trotting away. The elves all stopped working to look up at their new Santa.
Now this Santa was different then what they expected. Clad in MJOLNIR armor, masked behind his helmet scanning each and every one of the elves. He doesn't look very festive at all, the elves thought. It looked more like Santa was deciding whether to greet them or kill them, which in fact he was. The Arbiter still remained quiet, so confused and bewildered by this new information. Candy was hopping around looking like he was about to wet his pants. Then, the Spartan made an announcement that was both shocking and horrifying to the elves.
"This is now a UNSC munitions factory! There's a war going on and there's not enough ammo to go around! If this works out, we'll have enough ammunition and vehicles to back up the 501st Infantry and 110th Cadian divisions in two days! Now, any questions?"
One elf raised his hand and the Chief simply nodded at him.
"But sir!" he puffed out his chest bravely, "I want to be a dentist!"
Master Chief loaded his shotgun one handed and shot the elf square in the face from 200 yards. Candy squealed.
"Any other questions?" the soldier growled. Now the elves all began to panic and work furiously, the ones nearest to the dissident couldn't move. Chief merely glanced at them, "Clean that mess up." He remarked. He then went into Santa's Office and came out twenty minutes later, with two elves holding assault rifles flanking him.
He walked menacingly through the assembly lines, giving the elves their new assignments. "You there! ATV makers!" the warrior barked, "You're on Mongoose duty! Lexus mongrels! You've got Scorpion tanks to make! You-WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE?" He was referring to the elves making Shrinky Dinks. The elves looked up at him with pleading eyes, "They're Shrinky Dinks Santa! We're too scared to make weapons anyway!" Master Chief was disgusted and knocked one of them to the ground towering over him.
"Are you scared boy?" The Spartan growled, and the elf nodded furiously. "We're all scared. You'd be crazy NOT to be scared..." As the armored man walked away he shouted out a quick order to his new elf security force.
"Sacrifice them to the Christmas beast!" he roared.
At that, a group of armored elves ran out from the new barracks and seized the Shrinky Dink makers. The elves protested while the force dragged them to a gated hole in the ground. The Spartan loyalists then threw the elves into the hole screaming.
Mickey was head of the Shrinky Dink department, and when he landed in the hole, all the other elves were gone. This puzzled Mickey terribly, and then he saw a large ovoid like thing in a corner through the darkness. He approached it carefully, noting that it looked like a large egg. Then, the top of the egg-thing opened up in an X shape, and Mickey could see something moving around inside. Mickey was very curious and peered into the egg. "What have we here?" he said aloud, but the world turned to even deeper darkness as a spider-like thing leaped out and latched onto his face.
One elf knew there'd be trouble, and his name was Peter. Peter then began to slowly, one-by-one, take some of the manufactured weapons and hide them in a bulky toy chest.
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Meanwhile, Gravemind was sitting alone in an unknown location, pondering what to do with his best flood warrior. Having a Santa combat form was perfect; the man was so magical that even though he was under Flood control, he retained some intelligence. Gravemind was pleased, but he needed to stop Master Chief and the Arbiter before they could cause him any more trouble, so he teleported Santa to a small village near the North Pole. The small village wouldn't be missed, and could help the imminent attack on the North Pole.
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3 Days Later...
Candy and the Arbiter sat inside Santa's office, listening to the pandemonium outside. The Arbiter could make out the Spartan screaming something to the candy makers about ODST Helljumpers, but the rest was inaudible. Candy had already begun reading a pamphlet about the security tree they had encountered earlier, and was reading it aloud to the Arbiter. "The Christmas Tree Security System 2500 is for Mom 'n' Dad only. It helps protect unopened presents from "early peekers" in your family." The Arbiter looked up at him.
"Your people use fragmentation grenades against children?" The Arbiter asked inquisitively. Candy only smiled at him.
"Naw. For Christmas, my Mama would always tell me to stay outside the trailer and not look to see what she was doing. If I looked, she'd ram squirrels down my throat."
The Arbiter stared at Candy.
"Live ones too!" Candy grinned.
The Arbiter continued staring at him.
"Sometimes, they'd still be wigglin' when..."
"ENOUGH!" the Arbiter roared. The Arbiter was deep in thought, something was wrong about all of this. He had a bad feeling already when the Chief had the sleigh painted black and a heavy caliber machine gun mounted on it. Now he remembered how the Spartan had acted almost insane, planning to drop down Covenant chemical emission ports and leave explosives in stockings. It could be the Scotch... he thought, looking at all the empty booze bottles everywhere. Our race has no idea what Christmas even is! WE HAVE NO STOCKINGS! The Arbiter shook his head. Candy looked up at the Arbiter, with a distant look in his eyes.
"I think he could be a good Santa! He has Christmas magic! I mean, how could he carry all of those weapons and pull them out of nowhere?"
Suddenly, rifle shots pierced through the air. The Sanghelli and Candy looked up at the door in alarm to see the Chief back through it, holding a turret gun and firing rapidly.
"There's been a rebellion!" Chief bellowed before priming and throwing a plasma grenade. Candy cowered into the corner, holding his spatula and the Arbiter didn't even move. The entire affair of it all is unspeakably violent. Chief gripped an elf, and ripped its throat out revealing...
Gruntkilla44: HOHOHO! I can't let you read this you see.
I guess I'm your V-Chip, just like on TV!
I must protect your sanity, like a skilled British fencer
When it comes to his violence, I have no choice but to...censor.
I will just say, that blood ran through the land.
Let me say it ways, which you'll understand.
Down in the workshop all the elves were once making toys
For the good gentle girls and the good gentle boys
When the boss busted in, nearly scared 'em half to death
Had a rifle in his hands and whiskey on his breath
From his helmet to his boots he was covered with ammo
Like a big fat drunk disgruntled Yuletide Rambo
And he smiled as he said with a twinkle in his eye
"Merry Christmas to all - now you're all gonna die!"
Well, the workshop is gone now, he decided to bomb it
Everywhere you'll find pieces of Cupid and Comet
And he tied up his helpers, and he held the elves hostage
And he ground up poor Rudolph into reindeer sausage
He got Dancer and Prancer with an old German Luger
And he slashed up Dasher just like Freddy Krueger
And he picked up a flamethrower and he barbecued Blitzen
And he took a big bite and said "It tastes just like chicken!"
And the bullets are flying the body count's rising
And the elves are dying to know -"Oh Santa, why?"
My, my, my, my, I guess he's not such a jolly guy.
If you must know, yes Peter is dead
Master Chief fired and blew a hole through his head
Yes, little friend, that's his brains on the floor
Guess we won't have that elf to kick around anymore.
But now Vixen's in therapy and Donner's still nervous
And the surviving elves all got jobs in the postal service
Yes, you are, North Pole is now hell.
But there's still much more of the story to tell...
Master Chief was laughing maniacally holding two smoking SMGs as wounded elves fled the inner bakery. The Spartan rushed forward to chase them down, backed up by support fire from his personal bodyguard. Chief may have already killed the ringleader, but the rhythm of the hunt roared in him. The elves then fled up the ramp into the barren tundra towards the nearest city. Then John howled and fired his weapon into the air. The Arbiter could only look out the observation window that overlooked the factory completely bewildered. The Spartan had been drunk for who knows how long, Candy stood beside the Elite grinning. He made a quick glance at the alien.
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