Half Life 3: The Crack Fiction

Chapter 1: The End of Episode 3

"Oh nooo Alyx you're dead! Actually no I don't care. Gina Cross is totally hotter." said Gordon Freeman, as he watched Alyx Vance die by having her spinal fluid slurped out by a giant flying potato with a tongue. That potato may or may not have been Wallace Breen. Who cares, all the advisors look the same anyway so who the shit cares if Breen is one of them. Gordon couldn't kill the Advisor because he was trapped by the Advisor's psychic powers. "For the love of sweet dillyfuck, how the hell am I supposed to kill you without using a massive plot contrivance?" asked Gordon. The advisor couldn't reply because it was a giant potato alien and could not speak. Well, at least not English, and no meaningful dialogue would have occurred anyway, because there's no way in hell the Advisor would have told him its one true weakness. But Gordon knew its one weakness anyway, because fuck any semblance of logical, coherent plot, this fanfic is more crack than a coke addict's nostrils.

Earlier:

"Hey Vortigaunt" said Gordon to a random Vortigaunt (Who else would it have been, given whom he was addressing? Sheckley? Pfffft) "I just want to apologise about the whole genocide thing back in Black Mesa. We cool?" "Aw, hell yeah bro!" said one of the Vortigaunts out-of-characterly "Dat Nihilanth bitch be controllin' our asses anyway that day". Gordon facepalmed. "Why, in the name of sweet FUCK are you talking like that?" "Sorry," said the Vortigaunt "I thought it would be funny. And by "I" I mean "the Author"" . "Well, it wasn't," said Gordon "being random is not a very good way of making jokes". The Vortigaunt glared at him for his hypocrisy, because being unpredictable is where this fanfic draws most of its humour from, aside from self-deprecation. "Hey," said Gordon, restarting the conversation on a line of topic that conveniently furthers the plot "can you see the future? Because that would really come in handy if you could." "In canon, no. In fact, if we were clairvoyant, then we would have completely avoided like, a kajillion problems throughout the game. But just for this story, shit, let's see the future." The Vortigaunt went all purple and glowy and shit. Gordon wondered if he was tripping or something. "Okay, I'm done. To kill the Advisor at the end of the game you have to combine your crowbar and the super-gravity gun together to make a crowbar that makes physics just die". "Cool," said Gordon "that's why I became a theoretical physicist in the first place. To kick physics in the dick and take its wallet." He combined them. The crowbar made physics just die.

Present:

Gordon hit the Advisor with the crowbar and it died. The Gman showed up because apparently, the character is such a big hit with the fans that he has to do a 5-minute fucking monologue explaining absolutely jack shit. Although, I will admit, that line where he says "So wake up, Mr. Freeman. Wake up and… smell the ashes…" at the start of Half Life 2 was just fucking chilling. I mean, that line basically sums up the entirety of Half-Life 2. Then you're like, on the train, and things are like… Wait, it's normal, right? Then as the next 2 chapters progress, you're like… oh fuck no, how did this happen? Then throughout the course of the game, jack shit is explained to you so you have to figure out the entire backstory based on speculation on the internet. But I digress. Really, I digressed so much that digression itself became embodied in human form. Her name was Stephanie Reese-Taylor. The Gman talked a whole lot at Gordon, and Gordon didn't give a fuck, because he was making a long winded monologue which only served to be a conclusion to the entire "Unforeseen Consequences" plot arc. Instead of sticking around, Gordon decided to walk around the Borealis, while the Gman lamented the loss of Alyx (who I'll admit, has a nice ass, but Gina Cross totally hotter. Whoa, mama.).

Later:

Gordon has searched every inch of the ship's cargo for anything that could be remotely useful in the fight against the Combine. His search was completely fruitless, and the entire mission was just a complete waste of time. The Gman was still talking to nobody in particular. He appeared to finish his monologue, then left, with Gordon still on the boat. Man, I'm not even going to make fun of how completely ridiculous this is, I'm too tired, and I've used up far too many jokes. Gordon walked into the boat's control room. The power was off. He needed to solve a physics puzzle to turn it on. Fortunately, it proved no big tax on his MIT educated brain, because even a toddler could solve this shit. Of course, a toddler wouldn't solve this shit because the little cretins would rather play their Calls of Dutys, or their Halos instead of this cornerstone of modern gaming, but no. Let a little plot get in the way of gameplay, and it's all "Man this shit blows, I'm not even killing any Houndsquids or HECU Combines or whatever. A jumping puzzle? Fuck this game, I don't want to play something that requires skill!" I am certain that is what COD Kiddies think. I am a genius when it comes to the psychology of people. That is why I am so good at characterizing people. Look at the subtle complexities of my interpretation of Alyx, for example. That is a thing of beauty.

Gordon had absolutely no clue how to operate he Borealis. He gazed vacantly at the vast array of controls, which, you have got to admit, had a high attention to graphical detail. He just decided to press the biggest, reddest button he could find. It was big and red so it would stand out from the rest of the controls, so that you would know what button you had to press to cause the plot to go forward. The entire ship teleported to Aperture Science's Dry-dock. Gordon got off the ship, then it teleported away again, so that there would be continuity with Portal 2. Then Gordon walked around, and shot the enemies, which were Mantis-Men, until he got to the human storage vault. He went in and got into one of the human preservation tanks, because the game railroaded him into this situation. I bet that if he weren't forced to, he would have ditched out on the Black Mesa staff as soon as he got to he surface. But yeah, I just came up with that bit as an excuse for the plotline I have in mind to work. By which I mean making shit up on the spot.