40px-Terminal.png This article, Halo: Stel and Doug's Excellent Adventure, was written by CarpeJugulum and Stel' Vadam. Please do not edit this fiction without the writers' permission.
"Dear Sarge: kicking ass in outer space, wish you were here!"


This article, Halo: Stel and Doug's Excellent Adventure, is a work of humour, and is not in any way intended by the author to be taken seriously. If you feel that this article is not an appropriate use of the humour template, please be sure to find information regarding the use of the Humour Template by visiting this page before making such a claim.

Halo: SADEA is a humour story written by Stel 'Vadam, CarpeJugulum and Flame-124. It follows the adventures of Stel 'Vadam and Doug-103 as they struggles to survive on an island.


Fanon Characters


Stel whipped his head around, hearing something coming up behind him. He'd have sworn he was alone in the base. Drawing his rifle, he leapt out- and came face to face with an enormous chicken.

The fowl proved foul in its temperament, squalling loudly and pecking violently at him. Stel swung his rifle at it, bashing it in the beak with a loud clack. The bird retreated hastily, squawking at him once again when he moved towards it. Before he could catch it, it turned and fled into the darkness beyond. Stel watched it go, licking his mandibles reflectively. "Missiles for dinner tonight," he muttered unhappily. "Again."

Stel stared at his foot. The left hoof seemed to stare back. He looked at the missile sitting on his plate. Then he looked back at his toe.

What the hell. I've got four of 'em.


Stel had been stuck eating dozens of depleted uranium and missiles for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the past few days by now. He was getting tired, sick (literally) and annoyed of this place... someone had to come.

Stel pulled his head out of the toilet where he'd been throwing up for the past fourteen hours, head cocked at the sound of a jetpack. His heart soared. UNSC? Sangheili? Whoever it was, they were welcome. Staggering out of the small, smelly bathroom, he lurched into the main room and came face-to-face with a red-armored Spartan.

"Thank you! I can't believe someone else is here!" they both shouted at the same time. Then they stopped and reconsidered.

"You mean you're stuck in here too?" the Spartan asked Stel. Stel didn't bother answering and went back to throw up some more.

The red-armoured Spartan chucked a black box of to the area where Stel was still throwing up, with the sides labeled "CENSORED".

Stel stared at the box. The box seemed to stare back. "Censored...?" he murmured, head half-in, half-out of the toilet.

"You've got no right to censor me!" cried the box. "First goddam Amendment, ya split-lip ass!"

Stel threw up.

"Here, have a frickin' needle in your head!" the Spartan threw a syringe labeled "lololol Doug's medicine" at Stel's head, blacking him out. Ouch. That must have hurt.

Hours later, Stel emerged from his stupor, his vision shakier than a grass skirt on Maui at happy hour. The Spartan sat outside, reading the latest Reader's Digest. "Oh good, you're up," he said, catching sight of Stel. "I'm Doug. Wanna go adventuring?"

And thus began...


Chapter One

Stel and Doug walked out into the bright sunlight. "Where the hell are we?" Stel asked. He had no memory of arriving at this place, which appeared to be a UNSC military base on an island somewhere. A few hundred feet distant, the water sparkled.

Doug shrugged. "I have no clue," he said, looking up into the sunlight. "But it's a beautiful day at the beach, right? Let's go for a swim!" As Stel watched, he tore off his armor like a stripper shirt, revealing a red man-thong the same red shade as his armor. His helmet remained on his head.

Stel winced at the sudden shine emanating from the Spartan's pure white skin. Dear Gods. "Thanks, but I'll just look around for now." He turned and began to explore the beach.

Doug shrugged again. "Suit yourself," he said, and took off for the water.

Stel walked along the beach, examining the trees. They appeared to be simple palms, unremarkable by themselves. However, Stel assumed from these that they were on Earth. "There's got to be a communications station in the base somewhere," he murmured.

"Comm station?" said Doug, standing directly behind him. Stel leaped into the air, startled. "Don't sneak up like that!" he snapped, glad to see the Spartan was fully dressed.

Doug ignored the rebuke. "If you're looking for a comm station, I saw one in the base earlier, before I found you."

Stel's mandibles fell open. "Why didn't you say so before?!"

"I wanted a swim first."

Stel hit him.

Ten minutes later, the two stood inside a small room containing a full set of UNSC communications equipment. Stel grabbed the microphone and began speaking into it. "Hello? This is Stel 'Vadam. I'm stranded on an island with Doug-103. Is there anyone on this frequency?"