The Halo Humpday Challenge
Poofinger Vs. Pooflinger
Each Wednesday night, to the best of our ability, we here at Bungie take on another team in a three match Halo 2 challenge. We call it the Humpday Challenge, in recognition of the midweek blues. The challengers could be regular joes, they could be a clan, they could even be hardcore gangsta rappers. We'll take on anyone.
When it was revealed a little while ago that Bungie had a clan named Poofinger, a challenge arose from a group calling themselves Pooflinger. Now as you know, POO is an acronym for Point Of Origin and the clan name Poofinger obviously refers to Bungie's love of pointing in specific directions. We cannot say why Pooflinger is called Pooflinger, but we imagine it is a similar scenario.
The Pooflinger clan hails from somewhere with a drawl if the number of "y'alls" being thrown around was any indication, and they seemed like a mostly nice bunch of fellas (except for the one who made fun of Eamon for being unable to navigate QuickOptions).
The Bungie Fingaz
- Poofinger Killer for Hire
Abe Froman SK
– Luke Timmins.
– Paul Bertone.
– Eamon McKenzie
– Poofinger Stand Up Guy
– Ben Wallace
- Charlie Gough
The Poo Flingaz
- Dooky fresh
- Double dope
Foundation, Battle Rifles, Pistols, No Grenades
General Tone of Game :
We're almost considering a rule change because this game type (certainly on this map and with a limit of 100 kills) is absolutely horrible. Pooflinger called it Head Hunters and we called it something much less printable. They beat us fair and square, but it was incredibly frustrating. Team Slayer of course, but with shields off and starting weapons were pistols and Battle Rifles.
As we clamored to assemble as some type of team, the Pooflingers, knowing the subtleties of this variant quite well, immediately began a pincer movement designed to trap us at our spawn point. We ran around calamitously, bumping into each other, Team killing and largely making an ass of things.
Their pincer movement worked perfectly. Eventually, most of us were literally trapped in one room as the Pooflingers ran by the entrance taking free potshots at us. It was aggravating, horrible, irritating and literally unrepeatable. If anyone ever asks us to play that again, we're saying NO.
Halo rage is a horrible thing. Even though they were simply using skill to defeat us, I started imagining all sorts of horrible, illogical things. They must be cheating. My controller must be broken. My ISP must be acting up. Anything other than the obvious – that I was highly pwnable. I shot so many of my team mates by accident that I was kind of hoping for a special medal. They reamed us. Every effort we made to regroup failed and we fell apart. The lobby afterwards was tense and quiet. The only sound from Poofinger was the sound of teeth grinding.
wins by a landslide.
Single Flag CTF
Headlong, Standard Weapons
General Tone of Game :
This was better in some ways and worse in others. At the start of the game, lag set in and things were kind of choppy, but we were sort of evenly matched. I started getting a little frightened when they attacked us en masse from one (relatively) unusual direction. I was so paranoid that I tried to grenade the ramp of crates behind our base so they couldn't use it as a ladder. I squatted in a corner and waited, occasionally prowling outside in Ghost to pick off stragglers.
Our team was coordinated, confident and even organized. Poofinger was settling into a nice pattern of not getting its collective ass handed to it, when suddenly we dropped a player. He was simply ejected by the network and couldn't get back in. Pooflinger never ceased. They swarmed us, grabbed the flag and headed across the open courtyard. A typical battle ensued and the flag gradually made its way back to their base for a score.
At one point, I raced a Hog to pick up the rocket launcher under the bridge. I got there just before a Pooflinger and tossed a 'nade under his Ghost. Then hit him with two rockets. Then shot him a bit. He looked almost as surprised as me when this failed to kill him, and he murderized me under the bridge. Like a troll with a goat.
And then we lost another player. Same thing. Mysteriously ejected by a misbehaving ISP or network. We were two men down. Our kill ratio increased dramatically at this point as we realized the futility of the situation and instead concentrated on hurting them as much as possible. But it was never meant to be. Two men down, we lost the next two flags in rapid succession. It's fair to say in fact, that we put the "suck" in "succession."
3 flags to 0
Single Flag CTF
Zanzibar , regular rules, standard weapons
General Tone of Game:
Finally admitting that somewhere, someone in our game had apparently jerry-rigged a 14.4 modem to a wireless network, we agreed to (deliberately this time) lose two players from each side to try and mitigate the laaaaaaaag. I happily volunteered, knowing a) That I sucked and b) That I was super-mad and not helping anyone.
Poofinger got to choose the map and the rules and went for an old-school treat. Single flag CTF on Zanzibar. Everyone loves it. Especially Bungie, who finally, meaninglessly won. The third game is often a consolation prize, since historically very few Humpday Challenges have been decided by a third game. But we were desperate, so we'll take our consolation where we can find it.
Poofinger defended well, made a couple of fast flag captures with the Hog and narrowly defeated the equally capable Pooflingers. But in the end, with a score of two games to one, the fact remains, their flinging beat our fingering, handily.
3 flags to 2
No more real people they suck. And by suck, we mean of course that they win. We're going back to playing elitist celebrity snobs who're too busy sucking champagne out of Beyonce's high heels to get any practice in the Rumble Pit.