Gears of War: Judgment claims to reveal the story behind the Seranian wars, but brave Man Cave investigators risked their lives to penetrate a CoG base to reveal the truth. Well, actually, when they found out we worked for a site called “Man Cave” the Gears guarding the headquarters cheered “Nice one, bro!”, high-fived us, and let us squat-walk right into the base.

Behold: the real story of the Gears of War…

1ST FILE

40 YEARS BEFORE EMERGENCE DAY

File: Jacinto Press newspaper, front page

Headline: Gun Control Vote Victory! All Weapons Refilled With BB Pellets!

In a victory for the controversial 2nd Amendment reform group, the Coalition of Ordered Governments has agreed to replace all bullets with tiny BB pellets. Citizens may may still own 60-round automatic weapons, but accidental gunshot deaths are now impossible, as you need to hold the continually fire the gun at someone for at least five seconds to even remotely hurt them. The tiny pellets also allow one person to carry over six hundred rounds, which would otherwise be ludicrous.

KEEP FIRING, ANOTHER COUPLE OF MINUTES AND WE’LL GRAZE HIM!

A single bullet from a lethal weapon can kill. A single round from the modified Lancer can’t pop a balloon, while a three-round burst is now an excellent way to scratch a small itch. A second of sustained fire is recommended for removing stubborn stains. In order to satisfy the sort of people who want to own machine guns in civilian cities, the COG have agreed to fit every modified Lancer with an entire chainsaw. Making the weapon exactly as sane and practical as those who desire it.

2ND FILE

2 WEEKS AFTER EMERGENCE DAY

The mood in the COG war room was tense. True, it was hard to tell, as every human being on the planet of Sera existed in a state of permanent constipated scowl, but Colonel Hoffman looked like he’d just eaten three cinderblocks and discovered the base was out of toilet paper. A terrified aide stammered to attention.

“Son, my colon is a quarry. I physiologically could not be less in the mood for this s**t.”

Aide: S-sir, latest battlefield reports confirm that we are losing ground everywhere there is ground. The Locust forces are pushing us back.

Hoffman: We can’t be losing, son. Armies with satellite laser cannons don’t do that. That’s why we build them. We are every army on this planet and I want to know why our forces can’t seem to act like it.

Aide: As has been explained, the unpredictable nature of the Locust subterranean attacks means that …

Hoffman: I’m going to stop you there because it’s already the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Are you telling me that a space-age planetary military is being beaten by moles? Someone digging out of the ground at you is not a flanking tactic, it’s a chance to get paid for target practice and whack-a-mole at the same time! Bullets move faster than tons of soil. Arrows move faster. Hell, sharpened boomerangs move faster, if you’re feeling Mad Max. There are very few things in existence that don’t move faster than tons of soil. If someone’s big idea is digging at you, you should have time to build and fill a septic tank on top of him first!

Aide: But the unpredictable locations of their attacks …

Hoffman: Buddy, look at me. Am I covered in s**t?

Aide: Sir?

Hoffman: Simple question, I thought. A blind man could tell. Me. S**t. Covered in. Affirmative?

Aide: Negative, sir, you’re not, sir.

Hoffman: Then that means we probably have sewers! And since sewage pipes built out of paper tend to be a spectacularly bad idea, we must have metal, which means we have mines! The ground is not a mystical land containing the souls of our dead, it is the ground! We have ways of measuring what’s going on down there. Jeez, an army moving underneath the ground is easier to detect than one on top of it, because you can detect the seismic upheavals much further away!

Aide: Sir, we must retreat to the Jacinto plateau. The solid granite base makes it impermeable to Locust attack.

Hoffman: Are you telling me that we have space lasers and invisible artificial intelligences and our best weapon is a rock? Shit, what are we gonna do, drop it on them?

3RD FILE

15 A.E. OPERATION: HOLLOW STORM

COMMAND OPS STATION RECORDING

[CLASSIFIED CLASSIFIED CLASSIFIED]

RADIO OFFICER [EXCITED]:  Sir, Delta Squad have called in!  They have a confirmed location for the Locust Nexus!

CHAIRMAN PRESCOTT:  Excellent! Deploy all COG squads in grindlifts!

RO:  Sir?  We’ve located the central enemy stronghold — shouldn’t we just nuke them? Or are we still calling that lightmass? In which case, shouldn’t we light those locust up like the big bang happened on the Fourth of July?

CP:  No, send the squads!  The only way to attack a gigantic emplaced enemy fortress is with tiny four-man squads!

RO [REMOVING RADIO HEADSET, AGITATED]:  Sir, I can’t let you do this!  The entire human race is at stake. If we just send a few bombs down there we WIN!

We could fit, like, five warheads in there

CP [GRABS RADIO OFFICER, SLAMS AGAINST WALL, HISSING]: You’re damn right the human race is at stake!  We’re all that’s left — you, me, a few token female support staff, and an entire army of mutant linebackers who make refrigerators look like anatomical models!  What do you think’ll happen when we beat the Locust?

RO: We’ll be able to rebuild!

CP: Yes, we’re going to rebuild!  We’re going to repopulate the entire damn planet – and if we don’t do something the next generation will be 80% neck muscles! Dammit, man, there’s only one token attractive female per entire bloody narrative structure as it is. We end the war now and anyone with biceps smaller than three watermelons will be redesignated as “sort of a girl” and used accordingly!

CP  [RELEASES RADIO OFFICER, STRAIGHTENS UNIFORM, CALMLY]:  So. We’re not using bombs.  We’re going to send four man squads against an entire enemy city, one at a time, and they’re going to say yes sir and do it because their brains are smaller than their knuckles.  They might fist-bump first, I’m not up on these things.  And we’re going to keep sending them on stupid missions against entire armies until there are no Locust, many female survivors, and us.  Understood?

RO [DONNING HEADSET, GRINNING]:  Ah, confirmed Delta Squad.  Commence assault on gigantic massed enemy formations, we’re sending every single unit down to assist, over.  Please note that we’re even splitting your four-man squads into two two-man groups for the grindlift trip, for some reason.

CP:  Excellent.

We’re putting our soldiers in coffin-like boxes and shoving them underground. For victory!

4TH FILE

25 A.E. NINE YEARS AFTER FINAL VICTORY OVER LOCUST

FILE: JACINTO PRESS FRONT PAGE

HEADLINE: WAR HERO DISGRACED BY FAITH HEALING SCAM

Hero of the Locust Wars, Marcus Fenix, has been arrested for brutally murdering several old women in an attempted faith healing scam. Claiming that he could cure the gravest of injuries with his bare hands, the colossal former soldier invited several terminally ill pensioners onto a stage in an auditorium packed full of likewise decrepit and desperate civilians. He then ran full speed into each, thumping them on the back and shouting “YOU’LL BE FINE.” Unfortunately, being hit by a body with the same weight and medical training as a Mini Cooper caused massive internal injuries, broken bones, and multiple fatalities.

Rest In Pieces Dom: a man so annoying, all his friends “forget” that they can resurrect the dead.

The murderous soldier was eventually brought down by Seranian police using elephant tranquilizers and several bulldozers. He insists he was only trying to help, and that he needed the money. The hero of Sera has been unemployed since victory day, unable to earn a living in civilian society, and failing to net the usual lucrative speaking engagements for war heroes because everything he says is simply too stupid and clichéd sounding.

Not pictured: transferable job skills.

Grrrr!

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But definitely the weirdest.

For more gaming madness, check out Five Real-Life Jerks You Want to Kill inEvery Video Game, and behold one of the worst games ever made in Six Signs You Love Starcraft Too Much.