Knock knock. who’s there?
oNI. ONI who?
If ONI they Made a better halo show

By Benjamin Chrollin | March, 2022

While in my early years of college, I went on a double date with my girlfriend, Katharine, best friend, Tommy, and his date, Cassandra. We went to see the American classic, Scanners 3: The Takeover (1993) at a packed drive-in movie theater. It was just as glorious and exhilarating as the last entry.

Mid-way through the movie, I found myself being less and less attached to this cinematic experience and more and more aroused by Katharine’s cleavage in my passenger seat. I was, how do I put this? Titillated.

It was during the iconic head explosion scene (the underwater one… not that hack version from the first) when I decided to make my move. I leaned in to sneak a kiss only to get a glimpse of my backseat where Tommy was already in the process of checking Cassandra for ovarian cysts. We finally did it! We were on the cusp of losing our virginities, just as we imagined! That is why I found myself stunned as Katharine met me halfway and reciprocated my advance!

After a few moments of tongue-jousting, I decided to up the ante by dropping her seat back, knocking one of the two with her headrest as I crept atop Katharine. The thud was Cassandra’s head bouncing off the window but instead of shock or frustration, she chuckled and returned to practicing CPR techniques with Tommy. It was our time.

We made out a bit more when Tommy unexpectedly announced, “Hey, gang! We’ll be out back for a bi-“ when Cassandra interrupted him by placing a single index finger over his lips, silencing him. She then eerily turned her head towards Katharine and me and said, “no. It’s better they’re here. Let’s join them.” She then reached into her purse, pulled out an expensive bottle of Russia’s finest, Popov.

I remember being overjoyed as I dry-humped Katharine’s leg while I waited for a fine glass of liquor. “Where’re the glasses?” asked Tommy. Cassandra snickered, leaned back, pulled up her dress and made the bottle vanish into the shadows of her and proudly shouted, “ta-da!” It was incredible.

Katharine then looked up at me and instructed me to retrieve it. I didn’t want to, as I felt that would be a tad intrusive and distasteful. Cassandra stared back at me eagerly as Tommy then chimed in. “Go on, man! Don’t be rude!” he exclaimed.

I decided to be “a man” and shelved my misogynistic ways and shoved my hand into her as if it were a salami-laden oven mitt. It felt similar. I got ahold of the bottle, pulled it out, and held it up as if I were holding the Stanley Cup. Everyone rejoiced.

“Alright now! Your turn.” said Katharine. To say “caught off-guard” is an understatement. I was appalled but a tad curious about what was to transpire. Tommy then gleamed on intently. “Go on! Don’t be gay!” Well, I for one (was) no gay man so I rolled off Katharine, pulled down my pants, and bent over, leaning onto the dashboard.

Next thing I know, I had a hand wriggling about in my colon. I didn’t know who’s hand was where… until I felt rings. Katharine’s. I looked over as she smiled and then jerked her hand out, cradling a handful of deep-deep-deep “booty-mud” as my Grandpa used to call it. She chuckled in glee as she tossed my heap of love to her feet. I felt a tad uncomfortable as I’ve never been in a situation like this seeing as I generally don’t defecate around others, especially on dates.

One after another, they started to shout “My turn!” or “I’m next!” until they suddenly started to “intrude” all at once. I never felt so dignified.

Katharine grew bored of my prolapsing and shouted, “Hey, babe! Watch this!” She then started spraying urine from a modified headstand position over the four of us. Tommy, mid-arm deep into my dookie-chute, started to lap at the air as if a dehydrated explorer lost in the desert during a lifesaving drizzle.

Before we knew it, the credits began to roll as the lights turned on one after another. We didn’t want anyone to see us so we hurriedly put on our clothes for we had decorum.

I then began to drive once more. The four of us had sat quietly with sore faces from childish grins as I began to drop them off one-by-one.

Eventually, I reached my parent’s home. I turned off the lights and eased the car into the driveway so to not wake them. I snuck around the side and into my bedroom window when my mother suddenly opened my door. “You’re 37! Use the front door!” she said angrily before slamming it. She’s such a bitch.

I lay in my red Hot Wheels bed all night thinking about what transpired, the same way I did after seeing the new Halo television series. After a night of feces, urine rain, and more hands up my ass than Kermit the frog, I left that drive-in more fulfilled than I did after watching the Halo show.

Halo (TV Series) Review Score

PS: ”The helmet stays on.” – Lord Shaxx

Watch the trailer