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Copyright 2014-2016 Indie Bard
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Don’t Starve | December 1, 2012
It is a cold, windy morning, and I find myself sitting on an old broken log, fighting off the rain that threatens to engulf me and the rest of the world. I knew the risks. I knew the risks and took them willingly, but I never imagined this. This… is my story.
I awoke to find a strange man speaking to me. He seemed a bit self-righteous, with that crook to his smile as though no one else understands his mirth, but he woke me when he could have let me sleep. It’s dangerous to sleep here, I know now. He recommended I search for food, to which I readily agreed. I assumed he would help me – why, I know not – but when I looked away for an instant he was gone. Chalking it up to superstition and dreariness, I slowly stood, and began to take stock of my surroundings. It seemed pleasant enough, if devoid of civilization. It didn’t bother me, I had spent my fair share of nights under the stars.
As I groped about the meager landscape, looking for any sustenance, and possibly something with which to build a shelter, it occurred to me that this place is actually quite nice. From the descriptions they had impressed upon me every waking hour at the academy, I assumed the most hellish bits of the world would be accumulated here. Instead, I found Jackalopes hopping about, plentiful trees, luscious grass… even food seemed to be plentiful, lying about on the grass or in the bushes. However, I knew the rains would come, even then, even as I lost myself in the world.
I shrugged my backpack a little higher on my shoulder. The calluses of long use were starting to make things easier, but I was far from comfortable. I moved among my hairy friends, the Beefalo I called them, and gently rubbed the fur that had protected me so many times. I was in their debt, more than their simple brains could understand, but they only knew me as the stranger who lights the fires. Funny, how no one in my previous life had ever done so much for me as these creatures, and these wonderful beasts thought nothing of it.
I thought of it… often. I still think about it on the dark nights when the clicking sweeps by in the outer darkness. I knew the spider nests were vast. I had watched them for days before ever approaching. Even with that careful observation, the numbers that overwhelmed me after a touch were nothing short of amazing. I remember the running. That detail sticks where others fail. Running, with their black, rolling masses charging forward in a tidal wave of nightmares. For them, it was no more than a trip to the grocery. A brisk snack before they went about their business. Perspective is a mighty thing.
Once again, I tangled my hands in their fur, remembering the darkness, the fire I so desperately needed, and the furry shield that kept the wave at bay. I wonder how they must think of me. Of no more importance than the Jackalopes that run between their careful feet, or the birds that flutter between their antlers, or the spiders they intimidate. I was just a small creature in need of protection. A small being who had sought that protection in the Beefalos, and been found favorable. Favorable, as the stranger who lights the fires.
I ran through the thickly leaved trees, searching for sanctuary I knew was too far away. It was growing darker by the moment, and footsteps stirred the leaves around me as the guardian searched for me in the fading twilight. I could’ve lit a fire. I always carried enough materials for a fire. I still do. But fire would not stop the guardian. I was running out of light to see, and as I coldly considered the inevitable confrontation, I knew that no matter my reluctance to fight him, I would much rather face the guardian than the beast of the night. I drew my spear from my back and held it in front of me; a pitiful weapon against such a massive creature.
At the time, I couldn’t understand his anger. Of course, I had cut down a great swath of his forest, but I was ever careful to plant two for every one I cut down. By all the lore I had studied, that should have kept the great guardian at bay. Now, I understand though. To him, I was a constant threat. To the Beefalo, the stranger who lights the fires was a comfort, making favorable places to sleep on the cold, windy nights. To this relentless beast of the woods, I must have seemed like a devil left to walk amongst one’s house at night. I was his nightmare, as he was mine.
Dodging his lumbering strike, once again I dove into the woods he called home. I was glad the trees he protected did not curse me as he did. They understood my needs, and while they mourned the loss of their brethren at night – with howls to rival the wolves – they looked forward to the dawn, when the seeds I had so carefully planted would grow to fill their ranks again. Dodging another swing, I jabbed my spear into his oaken body. I was cautiously proud of the spear I had so quickly made. At the time, I had hoped to never use it. Now, on this old broken log, I smile in remembrance of its long and bloody history.
I remember fondly the day I entered the village. Village? Maybe too strong a word. A collection of huts at best, and yet, in that now dreary place, it seemed a city on a hill. The locals were naturally suspicious of me. The stranger who lights the fires was not a threat, not to them. A spider, instead of a devil. My first night amongst their twinkling lights was enough to harden my resolve for friendship. Any solace before the rains was worth effort, and these peaceful beings were of use to me.
Spreading my offerings of food, I smiled to myself as their breath steamed the hairs on my neck. I knew they wanted more, and they knew I could provide. The stranger who lights the fires became the stranger who provides food, and I escalated from outsider to leader in minutes. Trotting through the trees, my spear held high, it was a moment of glory, tinged with a dark redness. My smile twists now, thinking of the butcher’s bill I was to tally, and of the ground I was to water.
Shifting on my log, I remember vividly the way the soaked ground felt as I sat after the battle. Slaughter would be a better word, but even now, I can’t bring myself to call it so. The confusion of it all had overwhelmed me, and as I sat on the cold, wet ground, I looked at the ruins I had created. Dismembered, pink hands reaching from the depths of light yellow fur. Antlers reaching through the meat-fed bodies of friends I had led to their deaths. The confusion of the battle had destroyed the city on a hill, destroyed the protective furs, destroyed me inside. True, the number of black, scattered corpses spoke of great victory, and all generals come to expect loss. But the clicking still swept by in the outer darkness, and my fires burned low.
The day the rain came, I could feel the tension. As I stood from my camp, and surveyed my farms, machines, and chests of hard-won possessions, I knew it was the end. I gathered my backpack, gathered my spear, and gathered my fires. That day, the stranger’s fires would burn, and die. That day, the stranger who lights the fires, would become the stranger who fought the demons.
I approached the nests as I had countless times before. I had already eliminated the scouts. They were ever careless, and the corpses of their fallen brethren entice them even now. The nests towered over me, and as I drove my spear into their inky whiteness, I could feel the presence within. The legs broke through, grazing my hair as they flew past. The head emerged, clicking, staring through all six black eyes, coldly considering this stranger who had woken her. As I raised my spear in defiance, I heard the second break, and then the third. All spirit left me… All resilience took flight, leaving a dark, bottomless pit. I stared death in the face, a great blackness that swallowed my fires whole.
I ran. Once more, I ran. Past the few twinkling lights, which trembled at my presence, and disappeared for my followers. Past the graves, in which even the ghosts which had haunted me tirelessly kept silent. Past my protectors, who no longer protected the stranger who brings the darkness. Into the plains I ran, and into the darkness, I fell.
Desperately lighting my fires, I waited for the waves. I waited for the gushing torrents that would sweep me off to the torturous forever, and yet it was not so. It was rain. Soft, ticklish rain that sent cold into my soul and infested itself there. No water touched me. The skies were clear, if dark. But it rained nonetheless, and as the clicking masses entered the light of my fires, they found a shriveled mass, cackling madly into his perceived gales, and screaming at the irony of it all.
As the first demon lifted me slowly, I cackled at my decision to come here. The academy had promised me wealth, and I had traded away my life for it. I wept for the peace I had felt on arriving, and for the countless beings I had mercilessly slaughtered in the pursuit of survival. I felt the life squeezed from me, as if this place were rebounding from the unnatural strain I had brought by simply being. As my eyes went dark, I laughed even louder, approaching hysteria. The beast of the darkness would claim me at last. The rains would wash me away, and it would be as if I had never been. The Beefalo will graze, the Jackalopes will leap about, the demons will crawl, and the world will continue to be. Without me. My last thought, my last, fading thought was… Who will light the fires?
My laugh still edges on hysteria sometimes. My ears still listen in the darkness. I await the comfort of deep darkness, where I will sit on my log, in the cold, windy night, still fighting the rains that swirl around me, waiting. Waiting for the stranger who lights the fires.
Text-Based Multiplayer Shooter | November 13, 2012
Lt. Michael: Pssshhht, Commander. I have LOOKed and it appears we have approximately 16 enemy combatants in this Room alone. There is a wall directly in front of me.
Com. Briggs: Lieutenant, LOOK, then GO WEST.
Lt. Michael: Affirmative Commander. Sir, I have a bad feeling about this place. I get the feeling I’m about to be on the wrong end of a gun any minute now.
Com. Briggs: Carry on soldier. Every Room feels like this. Now, have you GOne WEST yet, and if so, have you LOOKed?
Lt. Michael: Forgot to LOOK, hang on, sir.
Com. Briggs: …
Lt. Michael: Someone is ahead of me Commander. I don’t know if they can see me or not, but I’m FIREing regardless.
Com. Briggs: FIRE away, Lieutenant.
Roger: Missive for you Commander.
Com. Briggs: Thanks. Take over on the communications while I look at it. You’re on line with Lieutenant Michael, a fine soldier. You’ll be lucky if you turn out half the man he is.
Roger: Yessir, thank you, sir. Lieutenant Michael? Can you hear me?
Lt. Michael: Yes, who is this? FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE RELOAD
Roger: This is Roger, sir. I am handling communications while the Commander reads a missive.
Lt. Michael: Can you send me a map, Roger? I am completely lost and I can’t think well enough to TURN NORTH.
Roger: Sending it now, sir.
Lt. Michael: Is there a more detailed format, soldier?
Roger: Yessir, but you can’t have it, sir.
Lt. Michael: Very well. Put Commander Briggs back on the line.
Com. Briggs: Lieutenant, what the blazes are you doing?
Lt. Michael: Trying to FIRE at the enemy, sir. I think my gun is jammed, sir. It doesn’t seem to be FIREing.
Com. Briggs: Have you tried RELOADing?
Lt. Michael: Yessir, that doesn’t seem to work, sir.
Com. Briggs: Hang in there. Let me check the screen to see what’s going on.
Lt. Michael: FIRE FIRE FIRE RELOAD LOOK MAP FIRE TURN NORTH FIRE RELOAD
Com. Briggs: It appears you are dead, Lieutenant.
Lt. Michael: Ah, that would explain a lot, sir.
Perspective | November 14, 2012
Tom: Okay, Jim, this is a complex shot. We need this one to be near perfect for it to work. You with me? You listening?
Tom: Okay, great. I need you to move to your left about 17 and half inches. Yeah. 17 and a-… yeah… and a half. Okay. Now move up 14 inches and a bit.
Jim: Which way is up?
Tom: Forward. 14 inches and a bit forward.
Jim: Forward in relation to you, or forward in relation to me?
Tom: You, Jim.
Tom: Okaaaaaaay. There. No, wait. 14 and a bit, I said.
Jim: How much is a bit?
Tom: You know… a bit. A little less than a dash, a little more than a smidge.
Tom: Bah, hang on a sec. RALPH!!!
Tom: COULD YOU CONVERT A “BIT” INTO A RECOGNIZED LENGTH SYSTEM FOR ME? PREFERABLY NUMERIC.
Ralph: YEAH, NO PROBLEM. ONE SEC.
Ralph: FOURTH OF AN INCH, TOM!
Tom: ‘PRECIATE IT RALPH. Okay, Jim, fourth of an inch forward.
Tom: Alright, lemme just try this here… Hmmm… Not workin’ for me. Maybe if you try going back a bit, that’ll fix it.
Jim: Do you mean bit as in the arbitrary reference to some small distance, or the previously agreed upon fourth of an inch?
Tom: Fourth of an inch.
Tom: …… aaaaaaaand….. that did it. Thanks a lot Jim. Okay. Ready for “The Machine”? ….. Jim? Where ya goin’ there buddy? Wait… JIM! Ralph, get him. RALPH!!!! HEY!!!
Tom: Jim’s gone off. Run and grab him before he finds the janitor closet. Three in one day is way too many. Hey, Brucie?
Brucie: Yeah, boss?
Tom: Can you do a quick run through of our facilities and confiscate all of the rope, medication, rickety stools, and the larger sharp objects? Thanks.
Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare | December 8, 2014
Commander Death: Welcome, Private Bard. You’ve been assigned to Squadron FSM. Speak with Quartermaster Murray to select your equipment.
Private Bard: FSM, sir?
Commander Death: Flying Spaghetti Monster. Good men and women, all of them. Don’t disappoint.
Private Bard: Right, sir. Yes, sir.
Private Bard: Quartermaster Murray?
Quartermaster Murray: Ah! You must be Bard! Here, come have a look. I have an excellent selection for you. If you’re into the newest in military grade assault rifles, we have the Bal-27, ARX-160, HBRA3, IMR, MK14…
Private Bard: How ab-
Quartermaster Murray: Or, if you’re more of a Run-N-Gunner, we carry the KF5, MP11, ASM1, SN6, SAC3, AMR9…
Private Bard: Can you tell m-
Quartermaster Murray: OR, if you’re really good with the whole skeet shooting thing, we have several different sniper rifles of various calibers: LYNX, MORS, NA-45, ATLAS 20MM…
Private Bard: No, I’m no-
Quartermaster Murray: And here, we have shotguns. Never been much of a Shotgunner myself, but personal preference is personal preference. We have the TAC-19, S-12, BULLDOG…
Private Bard: Definitely not. I’m leaning to-
Quartermaster Murray: Ah, I knew I was right when I pegged you for the tech guy. Don’t tell anyone, as I’m not really allowed to pass them out to newbies, but we have prototype laser weaponry! This EM1 shoots a constant laser, while the EPM3 there does what its name implies…
Private Bard: I don’t think I-
Quartermaster Murray: Ah, okay, okay. A traditionalist I see. Well, how about some heavier stuff? PYTAEK? XMG? AMELI? I’ve got a MDL grenade launcher tucked away somewhere…
Private Bard: Quartermaster!
Quartermaster Murray: Yes?
Private Bard: … I want this one.
Quartermaster Murray: … That one? You don’t want that… That’s The Boring One.
Private Bard: What’s it called?
Quartermaster Murray: … The Boring One.
Private Bard: I’ll take it.
Quartermaster Murray: You’re sure?
Private Bard: I’ve seen The Last Crusade. I’m sure.
Lieutenant LeAnna: Bard! Welcome to FSM. Hop in the chopper. We’re heading to Detroit.
Private Bard: Where in Detroit?
Lieutenant LeAnna: Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere in the middle.
Private Bard: How many enemies do you think will be there?
Lieutenant LeAnna: Four to Six.
Private Bard: …
Lieutenant LeAnna: … Probably Six. Where’s your weapon?
Private Bard: Here.
Lieutenant LeAnna: Not your secondary. Primary.
Private Bard: This is it. This is the only gun I have.
Lieutenant LeAnna: … Seriously? Why The Boring One?
Private Bard: The Last Crusade.
Lieutenant LeAnna: …
Private Bard: When presented with a large collection of magnificent, shiny objects, always pick The Boring One. It’s a universal rule of life.
Lieutenant LeAnna: … So if we came across a large pile of blood diamonds, you’d take a nearby rock?
Private Bard: Equip myself with a primitive ranged weapon or incur the wrath of a distraught African Warlord looking for his lost diamonds? I’ll take the rock.
Lieutenant LeAnna: …
Private Bard: …
Lieutenant LeAnna: … Good luck with that.
Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare | January 5, 2015
Private 360SwaggMaster: Kck Thrshshshshshtt… BOOOOOOOOM BABABA BOOOOOOOOM SHSHSHshshsh…… WHABOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
Private PCMasterFace: Thrum ta ta tummmmmm Kckckc THRUMMMMMMMMMM KCKCKC THRUM!M!M!M!M!M!M!M!M!M PZSHWZSHW THRUMMMMMMMM!
Colonel Ted: Shooonk… … KABLAMMY WHAMMY BABAKABOOM!
Lieutenant LeAnna: PaPaPaPow! POW POW POW! PAPAPAPOW! Kck shck k-kck POW POW POW!
Private Bard: Um… rat-tat-tat.
Lieutenant LeAnna: … Wanna try that again?
Private Bard: Right… rat-tat-tat… BOOM!
Lieutenant LeAnna: Listen, Bard, we need to talk.
Private Bard: Yes, maam?
Lieutenant LeAnna: Your gun… it’s a bit… bland. In past wars, as long as the weapon killed the enemy it was fine, but this is Advanced Warfare. We need a little more… OOMPH. You know?
Private Bard: What’s wrong with killing people?
Lieutenant LeAnna: Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! Definitely keep doing that. It’s just… appearances are a big portion of the… uh… group morale. It brings people down when you don’t share the… uh… the fire! Understand?
Private Bard: Gotcha. I’ll be sure to spice it up.
Lieutenant LeAnna: Great! We meet at the chopper in 30 minutes. I’ll see you there, Private.
Private Bard: Quartermaster Murray!
Quartermaster Murray: Ah, Private Bard! What can I do for you today?
Private Bard: I’ve been instructed to “spice” up my arsenal. Do you have anything that could help with that?
Quartermaster Murray: Oh, I’ve got just the thing. We just received a new shipment of the EM2 – the successor to the EM1. It has twice the girth a—
Private Bard: No, no, Murray, I want to keep The Boring One. Do you have anything I could add to it?
Quartermaster Murray: Oh! Um… let me see. At your rank, there’s really not much I can give you… Maybe… a… uh… I’ve got a Laser Sight, a Red Dot Sight, and a Suppressor.
Private Bard: I’ll take them! Lasers are the thing, apparently.
Private 360SwaggMaster: Kck Thrshshshshshtt… BOOOOOOOOM BABABA BOOOOOOOOM SHSHSHshshsh…… WHABOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
Private PCMasterFace: Thrum ta ta tummmmmm Kckckc THRUMMMMMMMMMM KCKCKC THRUM!M!M!M!M!M!M!M!M!M PZSHWZSHW THRUMMMMMMMM!
Colonel Ted: Shooonk… … KABLAMMY WHAMMY BABAKABOOM!
Lieutenant LeAnna: PaPaPaPow! POW POW POW! PAPAPAPOW! Kck shck k-kck POW POW POW!
Private Bard: Rat-tat-tat… LASER LASER LASER!
Lieutenant LeAnna: …
Private Bard: I’m not giving it up, okay! This is the Holy Grail of guns; I’m sure of it. Give me ten minutes without your judgment and I’ll show you what it can do.
Lieutenant LeAnna: … Good luck with that.
Tribes: Ascend | November 16, 2012
I will now try to express my inner most thoughts and feelings whilst playing the invigorating multiplayer shooter, Tribes: Ascend.
And lo, I am shot.
Tho I ski till my head hitteth the wall,
And my jetpack run dry.
I am shot, and I am dead.
And lo, my head is gone.
Tho I am traveling the speed of light
And surrounded by rocky protection
My head is gone, to be no more.
And lo, my gun is dumb.
Tho I spent many monies for it
And have looking forward been
My gun is dumb, and I hate it.
And lo, my body flies
Tho I had no wings of the bird
And have no wish to soar
My body flies, for it was shot.
And lo, I am a-sploded.
Tho I shot many a foe
And have taken my cover
I am a-sploded, for they are sneaky.
And lo, I am dead
Tho I shall respawn repetitively
And re-enter the fray
I am dead, for I will surely be shot.
The Binding of Isaac | August 25, 2014
I’m naked. I’m a child, so it’s expected, but knowing the horrors below, it’s laughably lethal. There’s no time to clothe myself. She’ll knock soon.
My hands are empty. My tiny fingers grasp air. A weapon. A shield. Any form of protection. Ignore them. I know what works. It can’t be found here.
I’m crying. I’m always crying. Fat, white tears pour a constant, salty stream. I’m not scared. I’m not nervous. I’ve suffered this too many times to feel. It doesn’t matter. Tears won’t cease until I find the knife.
My hands are empty. I feel the polished, wooden handle. I feel the sharpness of the blade. My hands remain empty, grasping for more. My soul, the same.
I’m naked. Really naked. Naked to God. To Satan. To this Hell I’m subjected to daily. I’ve worn devil’s horns and angel’s wings. I’ve shouldered the mantle of the holy and the curse of the sinner. But now, in my bedroom beneath this mirror’s glare, I am naked.
My name is Isaac. I know, because Mom screams it every time she dies.
Ghost Host | May 23, 2014
Pizza Guy: Oh no! It would appear that ghosts have stolen my pizza! I must retrieve it. Good thing I brought along my trusty Light of FLASH!!!
Ghost: Pffft… Are you serious?
Pizza Guy: A ghost! Where have you taken my pizza? I will not leave unt-
Ghost: No, wait, hold on a sec’ there, champ. Do you realize the situation you’re in?
Pizza Guy: I must retrieve my pizza fro-
Ghost: No, no, no… Think about this. Think about it very carefully. My peers and I are GHOSTS. We are the spirits of those who have died in this house and cannot leave. We have no physical form WHATSOEVER. What you are seeing is the remnant of an image. It is our souls desperately attempting to project themselves onto the physical world so we can make amends and leave it. As it happens, it’s very hard to distinguish that emotion from adrenaline-fueled rage.
Pizza Guy: No matter the cost, I MUST retr-
Ghost: Wait, look. Just look… (Hey guys! Can you throw up some visibility for a second?) … Okay look. You see that? There’s THOUSANDS of us. Just think about that for a sec’. I’m not trying to insinuate some kind of challenge. Although, if I were, it’s obviously insurmountable. I’m demonstrating how many people have TRIED your plan before. It won’t work. There’s nothing that can harm us. We can attack your body and soul DIRECTLY. We get to bypass anything you throw at us… including your bargain-bin flashlight. Just give it up and go home. The last thing we need is one more ghost clogging up the place.
Pizza Guy: …
Pizza Guy: I must retrieve the pi-
Ghost: Did you not just hear me? I al-
Pizza Guy : No. Shut up. You listen to me now... I must... MUST... retrieve that pizza. My boss is a sadistic scum lord whose adrenaline-fueled rage would put all of you to shame. Despite countless fake addresses and orders, no tips, no raises, and experiencing the worst belligerency the world has to offer, I have successfully kept this job WHILE maintaining a 3.76 GPA at university. I will NOT be fired for losing a pizza after all of that. I ESPECIALLY will not be deterred by a group of misfit idiots who can't find the door to the afterlife, and instead, choose to portray themselves as visions of horror to uselessly frighten innocents. If you doubt the strength of my soul, feel free to attack me, strip me from my body, and add me to your ranks. But know this. FOR ALL ETERNITY -- you will be haunted by the scorched and tortured soul of the Pizza Guy who died doing his bloody job.
Pizza Guy: So… Let’s try this again, shall we?… Ahem… Oh no! It would appear that ghosts have stolen my pizza! I must retrieve it. Good thing I brought along my trusty Light of FLASH!!!
Pizza Guy: …
Ghost: OH NO! Not the Light of FLASH!!!
Magicka | November 27, 2012
Dillon: I shall weave together all of the forces of nature into a dazzling spell that shall swe-
Morgan: I’m dead.
Dillon : -ep through the enemy ranks and decimate them into tiny ti-
Morgan: Revive me please.
Dillon : -ny bits. I will use powerful Arcane magicks mixed with lightning and -
Morgan: I’M DEAD! REVIVE ME BEFORE YO-
Dillon: I’m dead.
Morgan: Help me kill these guys!
Dillon: Hang on a second. I’m waiting for my shield to go down.
Morgan: Well hurry up! There’s a giant troll guy and about 400 other goblins and they’re chasing me andI’monfireanddangitI’mwetANDICAN’TUSELIGHTNINGANDWHYAREYOUCHARGINGYOURSHEILD?!?
Dillon: I accidentally cast my spell. I have to remake it.
Morgan: I died.
Dillon : Well, hang on a second. I've already made this spell. I'll kill everyone with it and then I'll rev- I missed.... and now I'm dead.
Morgan: How did you do that?!
Dillon: I… have no idea.
Morgan: Well, figure it out. That was awesome.
Morgan: No, those are volcanoes. You’ve already done those. They killed us.
Morgan: No, those are mines. Remember, they blew you across the screen and killed you.
Dillon: Oh yeah.
Morgan: Well you killed me. Let’s hope that works on the other guys.
Dillon: I’m dead.
Morgan: Oh… I don’t think that was it.
Morgan: STOP SUMMONING THE TREE GUY!!!
Dillon: Why? I think he’s helpful.
Morgan: Every time you summon him, he’s right in the way of a spell I’m casting.
Dillon: He’s protecting you. They pay attention to him instead of you. You are just not as interesting as a giant tree.
Morgan: Well, I don’t like him. I don’t need protection.
Dillon: Fine, I’ll summon him over here. GO TREE PERSON!!!
Dillon: Bahaha, he made the big goblin guy sit down.
Morgan: I died.
Dishonored | January 8, 2014
Morgan : Okay, here's the plan. I sneak along this outside wall for 45 meters, then blink across the alley behind the guard. I take the first one out by choking, and the second on the rooftop with a sleep dart. When he falls, I'll grab both, open the dumpster, and hide them in there. Then, I'll slip into the kiosk, grab the Rune, and blink out onto the piping on the building to the left before the patrolling guard makes it around the corner. That should give me more than enough Runes to afford Possession. I'll use that to take over the white rat on the ground below -- which I have a bonus for from the Bone Charm -- and check on the location of the three guards that stand in front of the door. From there, I have three options. I could hop up onto the roof of this building, scamper across to the other side, and use a series of blinks to make it to that building. Then, I could drop down into the middle of the three guards, choke out as many as I could before the others notice, and clean up with sleep darts. BUT, that seems a bit risky. I could hop down from here, blink to the boxes, sneak underneath them, and wait for the patrolling guard to catch up. I could pickpocket his key, then use the building across the street to get a better vantage point. There should be enough sleep darts on the top floor of the building to safely take out all of the guards from across the street. Then I could just walk in the front door. BUT, that means I have to count on sleep darts being there, and they might not. There aren't any rats close enough to go check either. So, I think I'll take the easy way. I'll sneak along this piping until I get to the breaker box. From there, up to the light fixtures and street lamps. With some precision, I shouldn't have any problems hopping across them to the carriage 27 meters past the guards. I will CAREFULLY toss the bottle from the front seat over to the brothel door, and let them walk over there. As the move past, I'll pickpocket the key from the leader, then wait. When they get close, I'll dart the one in the back, blink over, choke the second one, then choke or dart the last one depending on whether he's turned around by that point. From there, I can grab the bone charm from the crate, and walk into the building. If I'm quick enough, there shouldn't be anyone to see a body, and even if they did, I'd be long past this area and it wouldn't matter. Hmm... What do you think, dear?
Dillon: … Grenade.
Tiny Death Star | November 27, 2013
Bellhop: RAYMUS! WHAT’S THE STATUS ON THOSE DUSTCREPES?
Raymus: SIX MINUTES TO STOCK!
Bellhop: SPEED IT UP! WE CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE THE CUSTOMER BASE. CHECK WITH MALINZA ON THE WOMP RAT STEW. ENSURE THERE’S ENOUGH TO LAST UNTIL THEN. IS THE HOLOCHESS STOCKED?
Bellhop: IS IT STOCKED?!?
Denebian: YES, SIR, SORRY SIR. 100%.
Bellhop : EXCELLENT! ARE THERE ANY OPENINGS IN KI- Hello, sir. What floor will that be?
Bellhop: Right this way… Watch your step.
Bellhop: Enjoy your stay, sir…. OPENINGS IN KIROS? DO WE HAVE THEM?
Breha: NO, SIR. ALL OUT!
Bellhop: ALL OUT? WE CAN’T BE ALL OUT!!! I JUST APPROVED THE FUNDING FOR THE MON CALA AQUARIUM!!! ARE ALL THE JOBS FILLED?
Breha: NOT SURE, SIR.
Bellhop: WELL FIND OUT. WATTO!…. WATTOOOOOO!!!
Bellhop : WHAT'S THE STATUS OF THE PODRACERS?! IF YOU HAVEN'T FILLED THAT ORDER YET SO HELP M- Hello, dear. What floor will that be?
Bellhop: Take your time…
Stranger: ?… 3
Bellhop: Alrighty. Just a moment, ma’am…
Bellhop: And there we are. Might I recommend the Cafe? Enjoy your stay… I SWEAR WATTO IF YOU HAVEN-
Watto: GOTTEM RIGHT HERE SIR. 300 STOCKED AND READY!
Bellhop: GOOD. WHAT HAS VADER COMMANDED?
Supply Officer: 3 REBELS SPIES AND 2 BLAST DOORS!!!
Bellhop: REBELS?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?! KAZDAN!!!
Bellhop: FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS EVIL FIND THOSE STINKING REBELS. I’LL NOT HAVE THEM RUNNING ABOUT IN MY ELEVATORS.
Kazdan: YESSIR. Also, a missive for you.
Bellhop: Play it.
Emperor: I require great waffles. Fill my plate with level 9 waffles.
Bellhop: ….. RAYMUS!!! SCREW ALL OF THAT!!! WE NEED WAFFLES!!!!!!!!!
7 Grand Steps | June 16, 2013
Khet: Come with me my darling. Let us make our way in the world.
Selk: Whatever shall we do, my love?
Khet: We shall dance. We shall dance our way to song and victory. We shall dance dances fit for heroic dancers. We shall dance dances no dancer has ever danced before. We shall dance the dance of social structure so well, we shall be dancing with the lords in no time. We sh-
Selk: I’ve had a child.
Khet: … What?
Selk: Yeah… It just kind of…. popped up.
Khet: … When?
Selk: While we were dancing.
Khet: How could dancing have… Are you absolutely sure it’s a child? Perhaps it-
Selk: Definitely a child. It also seems to be eating our tokens.
Khet: Well, keep them away from him! Why in Gator’s Grace would a child eat tokens?
Selk: I have no clue. He’s seems to be quite fond o-
Khet: GATOR’S MERCY GIVE THE CHILD A TOKEN!!!
Selk: What shall we call him?
Khet: We shall call him… Osaphet.
Selk: Oh, that’s lovely! What does it mean?
Khet: No idea.
Khet: DANCE! du-Du-DANCE! du-Du-DADADuDududu-DANCE! Brrrumpbumbump.
Khet: Yes, dear?
Selk: We’ve had some children.
Khet: Yes, dear, I know. Osaphet, remember? How is he doing in school?
Selk: He’s doing quite well. But, that’s not what I mean. I mean we’ve had some more.
Selk: Yes… Sophalet, Kuhrghistn, Moofaloo, Tiuoayoiuae, Yaya, and Boombaloombaloopidydoopidyooh.
Khet: … I…. I don’t know what to say… Were… were you TRYING t-
Selk: Oh, Gators, no! Osaphet was plenty for me. But, now we have them. What should we do?
Khet: Well despite my incredible dancing skills, we cannot afford to feed all of them. The neighbors have been getting greedy with their tokens recently and I make less and less as the month wanes. Osaphet is the strongest, the smartest, and the firstborn. Here’s what we’ll do. Do you care about the well-being of the new ones?
Selk: Not particularly.
Khet: Me either. Let's give the appearance that our family is poor and we cannot afford to feed them all. To be fair -- we'll tell them -- we cannot feed any of you, and you must all go out and find yourself something to eat. THEN, after they're all gone, we'll give Osaphet some tokens to keep his strength up. The new ones will eventually die of starvation, and then we won't have to deal with them anymore.
Selk: Isn’t that a little brutal?
Selk: … Nah, you’re right. Let’s do it.
Khet: Ah, come closer my wife. These old eyes aren’t what they used to be.
Selk: Yes, dear.
Khet: How are the children?
Selk: Still holding on. Osaphet has barricaded himself in his manor and only writes to me now. It’s been several months since I’ve seen him. The others have gathered an army and are laying siege to the manor as we speak.
Khet: I trust Osaphet has enough to outlast them?
Selk: Of course. I fly tokens in daily for his strength.
Khet: Excellent… excellent….
Selk: … Dear?…
Selk: Would you like to dance with me? Just one last time?
Khet: … I would love to….
Selk: His name is Rookytookylambalagookyrattatatrackbatatmualahrombusayolowatolowarolowaruitwabadikiickybickywatalabambaroofyzoofyrockbatwalavasta…
Khet: …. Screw everyone else…. HE gets the fortune.
Ridiculous Fishing | February 23, 2013
Frank: “Hey Bill! How’s it goin’, buddy?”
Frank: “That’s what I thought. Hey, listen. I thought we might go fishin’ sometime. Ya know, like we used ta when we were young. We’d get out inta ol’ Ficklestin’s boat n’ go crusin’ down ta the Lake. It was a right fun ol’ time. What da ya say?”
Frank: “I’ll take that as a yes! I’ll meet up with ya this afternoon at ol’ Ficklestin’s. The man’s as blind as a bat and as deaf as a.. well… a deaf man. I’m sure he won’t notice us borrowin’ the boat. See ya then.”
Frank: “Hey, Bill! You made it! Listen, I’ve been thinkin’. Maybe takin’ the ol’ man’s boat ain’t such a good idea. So, I brought my own. What da ya think? She’s a beaut ain’t she?”
Frank: “Yeah, I know. I like ‘er too. Welp. Let’s get ‘er out there fore the sun goes down.”
Frank: “What kinda fish are ya hopin’ ta catch?”
Bill: “… All of them.”
Frank: “That’s… uh… that’s a tall order there Bill, hehe. We’ll see who gets closest.”
Frank: “Alrighty, let’s take a look at yer supplies. Looks like we got enough line ta fish ta the bottom o’ the ocean n’ back, so no troubles there. There’s… uh.. there’s a chainsaw in here. D’ya mean to pack that?”
Frank: “… Okay. Well ya certainly got ‘nough fuel for it. Let’s see here. Ya got a toaster n’ a hairdryer in here. Don’t let fashion hold ya back.. I guess. N’ we can have toast… somehow. What’s this?”
Bill: “… Tesla coil.”
Frank: “That really necessary, Bill? I mean, how’ll that help ya catch fish?”
Frank: “Guess we can leave it. Is… is this what I think it is?”
Frank: “I know I’m not one fer headgear, but a Hedjet’s a bit… classic fer ya, ain’t it?”
Frank: "Well whatever, let's get goin'. I'm really lookin' forward to this, Bill. Ya have no idea what it's been like at home. The wife's been pressuring 'bout havin' kids, n' I just don't think I'm ready fer it. We've already got the two from 'er previous husband, n' I just don't think my job at the plant can handle anythin' more. I know they could probably stand ta have a little less -- we spoil 'em too much -- but I don't want them growing up that way. Not the way we grew up. Beyond that, I wanna be a better role model than that dead-beat they call Daddy. Did I tell ya he showed up the other day? Yeah... Just showed up, three in the mornin', drunk as all get out, askin' bout her mother. I threw 'em out, but still... A man has ta have some dignity in his life. A man like that don't need ta be 'round anyone's kids, let alone mine. AND, he had a gun! Of all things! I tell you what I'm just about sick of 'em. I know we used ta do a lot of huntin' here when we were little, but times are a changin'. Have ya seen the news? The way people are usin' them nowadays? Law, I wouldn't want ta take my kids anywhere I knew didn' have real strict laws on those things. People firin' guns 'bout willy nilly. Can ya believe it? I don't know what kinda person'ld do that, less they ain't in their right mind. And if they ain't, they need ta be locked up anyhow. And how da they get access to all them guns anyhow? There just some layabout somehwere sellin' off his old army collection or what? I mean, really!!! The world's just ridiculous anymore... Alright, enough o' me yappin'. Time for some nice, relaxin' fishin'."
Frank: “Nice to see that smile on yer face there, Bill. So, where’re we headed?”
Bounce Again | June 19, 2014
Scientist 1: Johann! Come here. We need your help.
Johann: Okay. What do you need me to do?
Scientist 2: We have a new device that I believe will revolutionize space travel as we know it…
Scientist 1: But I believe needs to be tested further to ensure that it can withstand the eletro-shockwaves emitted by high capacity thrusters during hyper-speed.
Johann: So… What is that that you need me to do?
Scientist 2: Do you see that space capsule over there?
Johann: The ball?
Scientist 2: The space capsule has been outfitted with high capacity thrusters. Unfortunately, we have nowhere near enough space in this facility to stress-test its hyper-speed endurance. So, she has set up a-
Scientist 1 : I've taken electro-emitters and spread them out over a calculated distance. Each emitter has been slightly amped to create a stream, though the stream is limited by the emitter. The power produced by these emitters should -- under my calculations -- be very similar to that of an engine during hyper-travel. I've spaced the emitters so that a negative space exists between each one. We need you to pilot the space capsule through these negative spaces and cover the calculated area. If you successfully travel through only negative space, then the maneuverability of the craft will be confirmed. If you do go through the emitters, then we can test the durability of the craft under hyper-speed conditions.
Scientist 1: …
Scientist 2: We need you to run through this obstacle course with that space capsule. No matter how well you do with it, it will be useful to us.
Johann: Oh, okay. No problem. Let me go suit up…
Scientist 2: (Simple words, Scientist 1. We must always use simple words.)
Scientist 1: (He shouldn’t be at this facility if he c-)
Johann: Okay, I’m back. So how do we do this?
Scientist 1: Great! Right this way.
World of Warcraft | August 5, 2014
Indie Bard: Hello good townspeople! What might be the trouble here?
King Lorde Mayor: Ah, Indie Bard! It is fortuitous you have arrived. We are in grievous peril!
Indie Bard: What’s going on?
King Lorde Mayor : Well, as you know, this is the great kingdom of Gilneas. For many years we have served as a beacon of hope in this dark and evil land. Many years ago, we grew tired of our constant struggle and built a great wall surrounding our kingdom. While this great wall offered protection from the outside world, it could not protect us from ourselves. Over time, the people grew restless. Captain Rebellious rallied the people, and took up arms against me in a deadly civil war that ruined the lives of thousands. The burning and pillaging devastated the kingdom daily until we managed to capture him and lock him away. Now, we have discovered that our wall is not as impenetrable as we had previously believed, and somehow, the deadly Worgen have invaded our kingdom and are indiscriminately slaying our people. Amidst the confusion, Captain Rebellious has escaped his imprisonment and is holding the Worgen at bay atop the great walls. We have learned his followers have maintained a secret arsenal from the war, and we hope to confiscate and use it to defeat the Worgen hordes. In addition, I have just received word from my potentially evil adviser that the Worgen's bite infects the victim with a transformative poison that -- over the course of a few hours -- turns the victim into a vicious wolf-beast.
Indie Bard: …
King Lorde Mayor: Will you help us?
Indie Bard: With what?
King Lorde Mayor: What do you mean?
Indie Bard: Well, I’m a bit confused. Which of these story-lines do you want my help with?
King Lorde Mayor: Just the one. It’s all the same story.
Indie Bard: You’re joking…
King Lorde Mayor: Not in the least. Look outside…
Messenger: King Lorde Mayor! King Lorde Mayor! I have urgent news from the front lines!
King Lorde Mayor: What is it?! What is happening?
Messenger: Sir, large ships decorated with skulls and bones have entered the bay. These ships appear to be manned by terrible undead creatures in ancient armors. They also bring with them horrible abominations that are wreaking havoc on our defenses. What should we do?!
King Lorde Mayor: Indie Bard, what do you think?
Indie Bard: …
King Lorde Mayor: …
Indie Bard: … Zombie Pirates? … Really?
King Lorde Mayor : ... *shrugs*
X-COM: Enemy Unknown | January 5, 2013
Ganza: Suarez… What was that?
Suarez: I shot at the Muton, sir.
Ganza: I’m aware. What I’m asking… is why on EARTH… did you MISS?!?
Suarez : I only had a 48% chance to-
Ganza: HE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!!! To get any closer he would have had to marry your sister and live in your underpants. I blew him up from ACROSS THE MAP!!!
Suarez: Well, sir, you have more experience than me…”
Ganza: Suarez… what is your gun?
Suarez: A Heavy Plasma Ri-
Ganza: A Heavy Plasma Rifle. Can you think of a gun better than that one?
Suarez: Not ne-
Ganza: THAT’S BECAUSE THERE ISN’T ONE!!! OUR COMMANDER, IN HIS INFINITE GENEROSITY, HAS GIVEN YOU THE MOST ADVANCED WEAPON ON THE PLANET!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT CHINA IS WILLING TO PAY FOR THAT????
Suarez: Sir, I-
Suarez: Um, fou-
Ganza: MORE THAN THAT!!! I SWEAR IF YOU MISS AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY CHOP YOU UP WITH MY HEAVY PLAMSA RIFLE AND FEED YOU TO THE SLENDERMEN. THEN, WHEN I SHOOT THEM, AND THEY EXPLODE INTO CLOUDS OF POISONOUS GAS, YOUR EXCUSES AND HORRIBLENESS WITH AFFECT MORE THAN ONE OF MY SENSES!!!!
Suarez: … Sir, I-
Ganza: MOVE FIVE STEPS TO YOUR LEFT!!!!
Singh: So where were you last weekend? We went out with the new researchers, and the blonde one was asking about you.
Suarez: Sorry. I was off at this free weekend camp.
Singh: A camp? For what? Learning how to miss a priceless, once-in-a-lifetime-date?
Suarez: It was the Storm Trooper Academy. They were doing this promotional thing and-
Ganza: What was that?
Suarez: ….. What, sir?
Ganza: What did you just say?
Suarez: That I went to the Storm Trooper Academy for the weekend?
Ganza: …. Did you have fun?
Suarez : Yeah, actually. I learned a lot. I found that my accuracy percentage went up to 100% in certai-
Ganza : 100% CAHNCE TO SUCK AAAAAALL THE TIIIIIIIME!!!!! HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THE THREE COMMERCIALS THEY POSTED? THEY ARE AWFUL MARKSMEN. WHY WOULD YOU, POSSIBLY THE WORLD'S WORST MARKSMAN, GET ADVICE FROM THE ONLY CONTENDERS OF YOUR TITLE?!?!?!
Suarez: I thought-
Ganza: WOW, HE THINKS AT LAST!!!! HURRY, FIND THE ALIENS BEFORE HE HURTS HIMSELF!
Singh: So, did you go to the visitation?
Harris: Yeah, but I couldn’t stay long. There was a line out the door, and the entire Academy showed to pay their respects.
Singh: Was Ganza there?
Harris: … yeah.
Singh: How’s he taking it?
Harris: Not well. He’s been crying for days now, and even here, he’s having problems. He left two or three times while I was there, and we could all hear him sobbing through the doors.
Singh: Wow, really?
Harris: No. He was actually bragging about one of the new psionic recruits and drawing mustaches on all of Suarez’s pictures.
Singh: Oh…. Is he drunk?
Harris: Completely wasted.
Singh: Were they good mustaches?
Darksiders | December 18, 2012
Behold, the great horseman, War.
Who set out, his fate, to restore.
The Council to please, while begging on knees,
He scowled and picked up his sword.
Destroying the zombies by hand,
He swept like wind through the land.
With fist to their faces, and sword to bad places,
He destroyed all the demons at hand.
Vulgrim appeared from thin air,
To offer War his collection of wares.
From now extinct humans, and the demons in ruins,
Souls, he brought as cab fare.
Sam is the man with the plan
Or so War thought as he bloodied his hands.
Blue souls or hearts, or archangel parts,
Demons always have prices for scams.
Angels, riding Gryphons, were met.
The Gryphons, War wanted as pets.
Getting one, he was thrilled, until it was killed
By a Bat Lady he sent to her death.
Hello, oh Scottish Black Hammer
Said War, with a slight nervous stammer
He’s Thor and he’s here, with his trusty Mjolnir,
It’s pretty and I’m pretty enamored.
Oh, Griever, the big nasty bug.
War killed, with a trolley and a tug
He smashed its legs off, with a laugh and a scoff,
Then walked away with a heart and a shrug.
A Worm in the sand to his right
He runs to the left and takes flight
On wings set and locked, he aims for the rock
Falls short, is eaten, and dies.
The spider? No problem at all.
He’ll just grapple her brains to the wall
Except she’s a bad sport, and somehow teleports,
Which in no way makes sense at all.
Behold the Black Tower immortal.
Where lies a thing yearned for by mortals.
Not angels or promises, or cyborg mini-bosses
The gun that we all want from Portal.
Eden, where secrets are wrapped.
Where angels keep the legend in-tact.
War goes for a gift, truth is given in bits.
To me, that gift was worth crap.
Destroyer, the dragon who could
He faced with his sword and his hood.
Facing fiery breath, and near certain death
He found tripping the dragon was good.
The dragon brought forth his possessions
As he became, an angel from heaven
With black smoky wings, a sword longer than me
He’s totally not Sephiroth from Seven.
Rage | January 8, 2013
Dr. Keifer: So, how have you been doing John? I know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks. How are things, hmmm?
John: Oh… you know… pretty good.
Dr. Keifer: I see you still have your duffel bag.
John: Yeah… I… uh… I need my duffel bag when I go places.
Dr. Keifer: We talked about this last time, John. You don’t need your duffel bag all of the time. Why don’t you let Stacy hold it for you in the lobby?
John: Well… um… I don’t know… What if… I’d… rather not.
Dr. Keifer: John, you know there are no mutants in the building. We did a tour the very first day, remember?
John: Yeah, but that’s the thing. They could be ANYWHERE. Have you checked your ceiling?
Dr. Keifer: John….
John: Because they’re fond of that. And…. the floor too… Do you have any-
Dr. Keifer: John, calm down….
John: cracks in your floor, because they love those. Cracks in the floor, in the ceiling, in the walls, in the doors, in the floor, in the ceiling, in-
Dr. Keifer: Stacy, could you bring the medicine please?
John: IN THE CIELING, IN THE WALLS, IN THE DOORS, IN THE-
Dr. Keifer: Stacy, we need that medicine. This is a bad one.
Stacy: I can’t find it!
John: SHOTGUN FOR THE CLOSE ONES. [BANG] SNIPER FOR THE FAR ONES [BANG] WINGBLADES WHEN THEY WANT TO PLAY [SWISH] SHOT-
Dr. Keifer: STACY, NOW!!!!
Dr. Keifer: Don’t take the bag.
Stacy: But doctor…
Dr. Keifer: No. If it's not there when he wakes up, he'll _really_ lose it. At least we had the rotation this time. Without, he's much worse.
Stacy: Can we at least take the bullets? Maybe he won-
Dr. Keifer: No, he always checks. Obsessive reloading is one of the ways he copes.
Stacy: Is there anything I can do for him?
Dr. Keifer: Hmmm…. Do we have any spare mechanical bits lying around? Scrap metal, wires, that sort of thing?
Stacy: I don’t know, maybe in the supply closet? What do you need it for?
Dr. Keifer: It’s not for me, it’s for him. He likes that stuff. Honestly, it’s amazing… the things he can make with it. Sit down and watch him sometime. It’ll blow your mind.
Stacy: Be right back.
Dr. Keifer: Ah, you’re awake! Good, good. You slept for a long time.
Dr. Keifer: It’s under your chair, John. All loaded, plenty of extra ammo-
John: RELOAD SWITCH RELOAD SWITCH
Dr. Keifer: And look what Stacy brought you.
John: RELOAD SWITCH RELOAD SWITCH
Dr. Keifer: John….
John: Yeah? CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK
Dr. Keifer: Look what Stacy brought you.
John: … Are those…
Dr. Keifer: Yes. She found them especially for you.
John: Is she hurt?
Dr. Keifer: No she’s fine. She’s completely fine.
John: …. I like her. You should bring her in more often. Does she need any help? Like, anything? Anything at all? Maybe a flower or something? Cause… I’ll do just about anything for her. Anything at all. Maybe she wants a flower…
Dr. Keifer: I’ll bring her in more often. I think she’s gone home for today, which sounds like a great idea for everyone.
John: Everyone likes flowers. Or prototypes. I could get her a prototype. Do girls like prototypes? Depends on if she engineers things. Does she engineer things? Probably not… She brought me the bits…. Maybe a flower…. I can do flowers….
Dr. Keifer: John?
Dr. Keifer: Do you need help getting home?
John: No, I got it. I’m parked outside.
Dr. Keifer: In a parking garage?
John: No, like right outside. It’s safer that way.
Divinity: Original Sin | January 24, 2015
Indie stood by the bar counter, twisting his mustache around a finger. The bartender handed him a glass of… something. He’d agreed to the special without looking. He took a sip and shuddered as rough cherry ale flooded his tongue.
“I presume you’re Bard?”
He turned to find a gorgeous woman – sand blasted tan, thick ropes of jet black hair, stunning green eyes, and a sumptuous figure.
“Indie, please,” he said, dropping into an elegant bow. “And you are?”
“Vyper. I was sent by The Order to-”
“To be my new partner. I’d guessed.” Indie eyed her. “You look a bit parched. Might I-”
“Save your charm for other women, Bard. I’ve no interest. Pack your things. We’re to be in Cyseal by sunrise tomorrow.”
Indie grinned. The tough ones were always the most fun.
“As you wish, M’Lady.”
“Vyper,” she repeated, grimacing.
“Vyper,” Indie said. She turned to the tavern door. “M’Lady.”
He scooped his staff from the adjacent seat, and mounted the stairs to the rooms above the tavern. He opened his door and was met with a very white, very naked body.
“Indie! What took you so long? I thought you were fetching us some wine.” Her slender body rolled, slowly and suggesting, into a pose that could only be meant for the view.
He knew her name. He really did.
“Um, yes, I was. Unfortunately, my dear, I’ve been called away by The Order. Urgent business in Cyseal, I’m afraid.”
“You’re leaving me? I thought you were tired of the life of a traveler. I thought you longed for the simple life with a wife and children.”
Indie suppressed a shudder.
“Indeed, my dear, but these people need me. There are terrible happenings. Just terrible. A man burned to death. A woman tortured and raped. Their children set loose in the wilds. Just awful. I must leave at once.”
The girl’s brow drew down.
“Come now. I may tire of the traveler’s life, but I must do my duty. Would you have me a coward, a deserter in times of need?”
She stood, slipping her arms around him.
“I suppose not. When will you return?”
Frowning, Indie said, “I know not. Perhaps a few weeks. However…” He pulled her into a long, wet kiss. “I will return, and once again enjoy the pleasures of the…” He glanced down. “Simple life.”
Smiling, he pulled himself from her grip and through the door, grabbing his pack on the way. As he left the tavern, he sighed.
That was close. Too close. I have to stop being so nice.
The boat’s impressive. Got to give them that.
Triple mast with thick, taught ropes and shining deck, this was clearly new. Indie strolled up the gangplank, inhaling the crisp sea air.
“Did she take it well?”
Indie jumped and stumbled into the railing. He turned to find Vyper leaning on the ship’s rail.
“You’re quite the stealthy one, aren’t you?” Indie said, unnecessarily smoothing his robes.
Vyper smiled. “Hence the name. Did she take it well? Your woman?”
“She wasn’t my woman. And yes, she took it admirably. A clean break. She had a fiancé, anyway. A merchant’s son, soon to return from a trip to the forest villages. Have you been?”
Vyper stared at the tiny seaside village. “When did you tell her you would return?”
Indie set his pack aside and joined her at the railing. “I didn’t. As I said, it was a clean break. She—”
Her backhanded smack sent him rolling to the deck. Blood flooded into his mouth, and he could feel his cheek starting to swell. Hells, woman!
“You’ll not lie to me, Bard. Never… lie… to me… Do you understand?”
From his back, Indie stared. Who are you? After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet and recovered his rolling staff.
“As you wish…”
Her glare cut him short.
The ship tossed in the angry sea. Indie sat by the porthole of their rooms, reading a book. Vyper clutched the bed frame. A vicious wave sent her tumbling into Indie.
“Would you like some help, M’Lday?” Indie asked, inches from Vyper’s nose. She grimaced.
“Not from you.”
Vyper pushed herself to her feet and returned to her place on the bed.
“Talk, Bard. Keep my mind off of these waves.”
I thought you didn’t want my help.
“What would you have me talk about?”
“Anything. Where do you come from?”
“Oh, I like that story. I was born—”
Her eyes penetrated his. The tale of tragic loss and heroism fled his mind and tongue. Her eyes were deep and intense, aggressively demanding and ancient, like a primal cat. Or snake.
“You were born?” Vyper said.
“I was born… to a street singer and an unlucky tavern whore. For the first thirteen years of my life, my father and I wandered between towns. I learned to juggle, to dance, and all manner of corner tricks. On my thirteenth birthday, I slipped away from my father and ran to The Order. I told them I was an orphan.”
Vyper’s face relaxed.
“What of your father?”
Indie sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve hoped to meet him on the road, to show him how far I’ve risen from street rat.” His lips drew back into something close to a smile. “I don’t know if he’s alive. The last time I saw him, he was bargaining with a baker for a cake.”
A wave flung Indie from his seat and onto Vyper. Their faces hung close for a moment. Vyper’s fingertips gently lifted into Indie’s stomach, urging him to get up. Indie righted himself.
“Let’s get rid of these waves.”
Indie’s eyes glazed, then shone brilliant white. A low hum formed in his throat. Then, he began to sing.
Deep bass echoed the thunder, then decrescendoed to nothing. The sky grew quiet. Piercing wails screamed with the wind, then slid calmly into high soprano. The ship lurched forward as the chaotic winds righted themselves behind the sails. A fugue melody fell from his lips – notes upon chords upon harmonies, more than any tongue should be able. The ship righted itself in the waves, then stayed. Indie’s voice trailed. His eyes returned to normal.
“There. That’s better.”
He retrieved his book and returned to his chair. Vyper stared at him, her lips parted.
“Hence the name.”
Warframe | November 10, 2014
Tenno: I’m really leaning toward the Death Bow. What do you think?
Lotus: Well, it certainly sounds impressive. What are the statistics?
Tenno: The tag says, "100% Death Rate. Death on Impact. Guaranteed Death or Your Money Back. Lifetime Warranty... of Death."
Lotus: Be careful, Tenno. Those tags can be misleading.
Tenno: Merchant, how much is the Death Bow?
Tenno: 250 Credits?
Merchant: 250 Platinum.
Tenno: What do you mean 250 Platinum?
Merchant: 250 Platinum.
Tenno: Do you know who I am? I am the great Tenno, resurrected from a flowery grave to single-handedly combat the Corpus greed and Grineer destruction.
Merchant: 245 Platinum.
Tenno: I’ve rescued thirteen colonies from the Grineer’s evil grasp, slaughtering all offenders along the way.
Merchant: 240 Platinum.
Tenno: I’ve manned twenty-seven stealth missions to the heart of the Corpus industrial complex to recover goods stolen from the local villages.
Merchant: 235 Platinum.
Tenno: This is ridiculous.
Lotus: Excuse me, Tenno. Allow me?
Tenno: Go ahead.
Lotus: Tenno currently owns a News Module, which delivers immediate notifications from all parts of the Tri-Galaxy area… including government radios.
Merchant: …175 Platinum.
Lotus: And a high-class, custom-built Foundry, capable of manufacturing any blueprint in any format, in unlimited quantities -- provided you have the appropriate supplies, of course.
Merchant: …100 Platinum.
Lotus: Tenno, how bad do you want this?
Tenno: Um, I don’t know. It seems pretty nice.
Lotus: Tenno also has a Modification Bay, which --
Tenno: NOT THE MO—
Lotus: WHICH contains the traditional Modification capabilities with the Modification Upgrade extension and a fully-featured Fusion Chamber.
Merchant: …51 Platinum.
Tenno: Um… I also recently saved a kitten from the lower branches of a peach tree.
Merchant: …250 Platinum.
Tenno: Orvis! Make a note!
Tenno: The Mouse Merchants of Mercury are serious about their ethnicity.
Treasure Arena | May 16, 2014
Warrior: Behold, foul assassin, you have met your match in me! For I am Warrior -- Master of Armor and Wielder of Sword! I have slain more enemies than people you have met. I have amassed more wealth than your ancestry combined. I have bedded more barmaids than you could possible imagine. You are no match for me anywhere, let alone in the Dungeon -- my homeland. My SOUL land. This is where I LIVE, and this is where I will DIE! But not today... not at the hands of some petty killer! HAVE AT YOU!!!
the sounds of fighting commence
Mage: Ahem… Excuse me? Might I have a word?
Warrior: Wait your turn filthy Mage! I will kill you when I am done slaughtering this scum.
Rogue: Go ahead, Mage.
Mage: Are you sure? Can you continue fighting while you talk?
Rogue: Yeah, it’ll be fine. What do you need?
Mage: Um, I hate to be “that guy”, but shouldn’t we be banding together to fight the bad guys here? There are like… seven… maybe eight skeletons behind you, I’ve already been plagued with bats several times, and it’s only a matter of time before something finds a bow, or some kind of incredibly annoying spell. Is this really the time to be fighting one another?
Rogue: How about it, Warrior? What say you to a temporary peace until we deal with the monsters?
Warrior: YOU BLOODY COWARD!!! How DARE you insult my magnificence with your paltry excuses?! I am WARRIOR -- Master of Armor and Wielder of Sword!!!! I do not stop my quest to wrangle with beasts! You should be ASHAMED of yourself. You lack the honor of a REAL fighter and lack the ba-
Rogue: I think that’s a no. I got a similar response when I asked him earlier.
Mage: Wait a minute. You already asked?
Rogue: Yeah. I don’t even know this guy. I came down here for a good bit of looting, and the instant he saw me, he belted out a considerable monologue and ran at me with his sword. I wasn’t about to let him kill me because I don’t agree with his decisions.
Mage: No, no, I don’t blame you. So… What do you plan to do?
Rogue: I hadn’t really thought about. I suppose I could kill him. He did say he had amassed the wealth of… what was it?
Warrior: I HAVE AMASSED MORE WEALTH THAN YO-
Rogue: Than my ancestry combined, yes, I remember now. I’m fairly well off, so that should be quite the sum.
Mage: But wouldn’t you…. I don’t know… feel bad?
Rogue: Why? He’s obviously a complete idiot. Hand me those arrows, would you?
Mage: Oh, uh, sure…. But he has to have some kind of problem, right? No one just attacks a fellow human for no reason when they’re surrounded by skeletons. That would be suicidal.
Rogue: I KNOW! But I’d rather not do this all night, and I’d rather not go home empty handed. Hand me those bombs, would you?
Mage: I’d rather you not kill him until we know what’s wrong with him. He’s a warrior after all, and were surrounded by evil. He could be helpful, even if he is a bit… off.
Rogue: They’re for the skeletons.
Rogue: I promise.
Mage: … Okay… Here.
whoosh, BOOM, gurgle, gurgle, the sounds of fighting cease
Mage: YOU SAID THEY WERE FOR THE SKELETONS!
Rogue: I missed.
Mage: YOU MISSED?! THEY WERE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM!
Rogue: … I missed… terribly.
Assassin’s Creed | November 20, 2012
“Come, child. We must hurry. We have a great many tasks ahead of us.”
“What must we do? Why do we hurry?”
“There is a great and noble man who requires our aid. He has set about on a quest to rid the world of a great evil, and we must help him in any way that we can.”
“Okay, father. What would you have me do?”
“Your friend, Rahid. He is a farmer?”
“Yes, father. He has many animals, and great farms stretching around the city.”
“Excellent. Run to him now, and have him to bring as much of his hay as he can fit, in as many carts as he owns or can borrow. Impress upon him the importance of your task, but do not let him know what you are doing, or why.”
“Mehal, surely you can help me. You are a cloth merchant, no?”
“Yes, but I do not have the quantity you are asking for. I do not think all of the guild has so much cloth.”
“You jest, surely. I have seen the cloth you hand to peasants on your way to work. I have seen the baskets that men bring to your shop. You have enough and more. I am not paying the normal price, to be sure, but the amount more than makes up for the price. Do not forget the cause, Mehal.”
“But to hang my cloth on the rooftops? My excellent cloth for no more than a pigeon roost in a place where sun will bleach and rain will destroy?”
“We do not choose the way we aid the world, Mehal.”
“This great man you speak of. Does he even know of our existence?”
“He does not question our aid, just as we do not question him. I will be back in one hour for your cloth. Have it prepared by then.”
“You want us to sit on this bench all day? We have professions! We have better things to be doing!”
“I will pay you as much as your jobs are worth. I am surprised at your resistance. Many would clamor for the chance to lay about for pay.”
“Yes, but for no reason?”
“There is reason, I promise you. Do as I say, and trust that what you do is for great cause. And, should a man come between you, you will let him, and say nothing of it. Do you understand.”
“Yes, but I wish you would give reason.”
“In time… In time.”
“Aziz, I take it the preparations are ready?”
“Yes, they have been completed. I have spoken with my correspondent from the palace. He has already released the eagles, and there are carpenters hard at work throughout the city to create their perches. They should be done well before the birds reach them.”
“And of the scholars?”
“They have been informed. I’m glad you are willing to donate your private collection for your cause, but a library could have been started on your donation alone. Are you sure a lesser price could not have been negotiated?”
“I wanted their absolute conviction. The price is well worth it. What of your men? Have they been informed?”
“The word is being spread as we speak. They are still somewhat untrained, but I truly believe they are the best I have to offer for the task you have set to me. Although, I admit to some confusion, as these are no ordinary tasks. You will not tell me your reason or purpose?”
“It is best you do not know. Let it be known that what is done, is done for a great man, and any way we can aid him is for the best.”
“Here father. I have returned with your carts.”
“Excellent, son, excellent. Bring that one over here, and place the rest around the city at these locations. You use that map, and hand the other to your friend. This needs to be done quickly.”
“Forgive me, but this all seems excessive for one man. How could he possibly need all of this preparation for himself?”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, son. Leave this cart here, and go to the others.”
“Wait! Does your friend have any pigeons?”
“I think so.”
“Good, bring those as well.”
Realm of the Mad God | November 29, 2012
Ah, I seem to be in some sort of building. What’s that? Yes, the Nexus. Seems appropriate. There’s quite a few people here. I have absolutely NO idea what they’re babbling about, but I’m sure it’s for higher level players. Let me see what is over here. There appear to be small little cave things. Let’s try one out.
I appear to be on a beach. I see my peers scampering about, waving their magic wands, brandishing their swords. I don’t see the point. I don’t even s-
AUGHAUGHAUGJUHUGHUHUAH RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!
RUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!!! THERES MILLIONS OF THEM!!!! UNDEAD HOBBITS ARE GOING TO KILL ME!!!!!!
Level 12!!! I feel so accomplished. Although, I have noticed that many of my peers are low leveled. I wonder why. It’s not terribly hard to make it here. I’ve only been playing for a few hours. Maybe I’m just really good? If so, it’s about time I found a game I’m inherently good at. Let’s go try another one of those Tree things. The last one was enjoyable. Deep breath…… and…..
BLARGHAAAAAAAAUGHUAGUHAUGJLHJLKSJADLASNCASLDHASJDKA:SDJLKASD DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE
Okay, thank goodness that’s taken care of. BUAGH!!! What? I’m dead? What killed me? I thought I had taken care of everything? All well. Where’s the respawn button? For that matter, where’s my character?
SteamWorld Dig | December 3, 2014
Enter RUSTY, a ruggedly-handsome, young Robot with an air of Heroism. Note the Jaunty Gate, Famous Adventurer Hat, and The Place Where His Whip Would Go. He saunters valiantly into town, where he promptly falls into his Uncle’s Plot-Starter.
As the mine’s ceiling caves in, DOROTHY, a strikingly-beautiful, young Robot, steps out of the way of the falling debris. Seeing RUSTY among the rubble she moves to Give Him Her Hand.
Dorothy: Well hello there, handsome. You must be Rusty.
Rusty: Um, hello. Sorry about all of this. Let me give you my information.
Dorothy: Oh, it’s no bother. This is your Uncle’s Mine. You can take it up with him… if you can find him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen or heard from him. I’m starting to worry.
DOROTHY appears Suitably Grieved. RUSTY feels a sudden, uncontrollable, overwhelming urge to aid this strikingly-beautiful, young Robot and find his Lost Uncle.
Rusty: He’ll be fine. He’s probably sitting a hole somewhere with a bottle, regaling the walls with stories of teen angst. Right now, we need to figure out how to get out of here.
Dorothy: Oh… um… okay. What do you suggest?
RUSTY inhales deeply, feeling the Ancestral Mining Instincts take over. He scans the rubble carefully, and notices a Near-Imperceptible Hole in the Rubble. He is unsure why, but he Knows this is The Path to Rescue and The Way to His Lost Uncle.
Rusty : Wait for the Rescue Squad I guess. We could try digging our way out, but I've heard -- on the Discovery Channel mind you, but still -- it's better to wait for help. I fell through the middle of Tumbleton. Someone is bound to notice.
Dorothy: We… um… we could do that I suppose. OR, why don’t you try looking Over There.
DOROTHY points to the Near-Imperceptible Hole in the Rubble. RUSTY recants his Rescue Squad Folly, recognizing the brilliance of DOROTHY’s plan and feeling an instant connection with this strikingly-beautiful, young Robot who shares his Ancestral Mining Instincts. As DOROTHY approaches the hole, RUSTY can’t help but notice The Way the Light Shines On Her Metal.
Rusty: Go ahead if you want, but I’m staying here. You never know how the cave-in could have affected the structural integrity of these caverns. I wouldn’t be surprised if that rubble is the only thing holding this place up.
Rusty: You want a sandwich? I packed some in case my flight was delayed.
… In a stunning display of Heroic Chivalry, RUSTY offers DOROTHY his portion of their Unreasonably Limited Rations. RUSTY feels the deep pangs of Robotic hunger, but ignores them as he bravely holds out his only sandwich.
Dorothy: Oh, I don’t want to take your sandwich, what will you eat?
RUSTY bites down the Starving Nausea eating away at his stomach. He glimpses visions of Inevitable Starvation, but shoves them away for the glow of DOROT—
Rusty: I have another. I also have some Crisps and an Apple if you want to split those.
RUSTY… munches on his sandwich.
Rusty: … BAAARP!… Pardon me.
… As RUSTY and DOROTHY share what might be Their Final Meal, RUSTY can No Longer avoid DOROTHY’s incredible beauty. He has never encountered anyone so…
Rusty: I should probably call Sarah and let her know what’s happened.
Dorothy: … Who’s Sarah?
Rusty: My wife.
What the h-… ahem… um… RUSTY’s face appears crestfallen as he thinks of his failing marriage with S—
Rusty: Sarah? Hey, babe. Yeah… yeah I made it, but I’m in a bit of a pickle… Yeah… Oh, how did he do? A 97! That’s great! Put him on.
In a tragic, unavoidable incident, Sarah and the child are swept away in a terrible windstorm. Nothing is left of them but Memories and Good –
Rusty: Hey, champ! I heard some good news. … You bet. Tell you what… I’ll bring something home to celebrate. How about a Mech-Dog? … Pssst… Dorothy. You do sell Mech-Dogs, right?
Dorothy: … no.
His plans thwarted, RUSTY flings his phone in anger, Smashing It Against The Wall. He is overcome with feelings of Doubt and Despair, consolable only by a young, striking—
Rusty: We’ll figure something out. Hey, can you put Mom back on the phone? Thanks.
… DOROTHY accidentally lights a Stick of Dynamite, and tosses it at RUSTY’s feet. Saddened by her slip of the hand, but reconciled to RUSTY’s Fate, she runs to the other side of the room as he is Irrevocably Destroyed.
Dorothy: Oh, no! … Man, am I thirsty.
Dorothy: Ahem… MAN, AM I THIRSTY!
… DOROTHY reaches behind her to find a cold, refreshing beverage.
Dorothy: Thank you.
… And promptly chokes.
Ratchet & Clank | May 5, 2014
Clank: Hello, good sir. It appears to me that you are having issues with your space craft. It just so happens that I am a robot, and can do a great many things typically attributed to robots. For instance, it seems you are in need of a Robotic Ignition System. I can happily fill in.
Ratchet: Sounds great!
Clank: Ah, but first, good sir, I must make a query. Do you know of a fantastically popular and infinitely celebrated hero named Captain Liar McGreenSuit?
Ratchet: I do.
Clank: Fantastic. It just so happens that I am in need of an experienced hero, as there is an impossibly large issue at hand. Space Napolean has decided to annex all of the planets in the galaxy, harvest the choicest parts of the planets, then destroy the rest to increase market value.
Ratchet: Sound business plan.
Clank: Indeed. The problem is that Space Napolean has failed to gain the permission of the planets in question. For some reason, the planets in question have deemed it un-necessary to relay their distress or a warning to anyone else in the galaxy. Fortunately, through impossible chance, I have escaped with the only knowledge of it.
Clank: So, according to the universe’s most trusted marketing team, I am most certainly in need of Liar McGreenSuit. Do you, a Tatooinian pedestrian on the edges of civilization, perhaps know the location of this man?
Ratchet: Nope. I could maybe help you find him.
Clank : Really? Even though the task seems woefully mundane at the moment, things could soon escalate. I'm no expert, but I think we could reasonably imagine perilous circumstances with vicious puzzles far beyond even my robotic intelligence, technology far surpassing your meager mechanic skills, and enemies the likes of which you have never dreamed of. I lack the motor skills of larger creatures, so I'll most likely need to be carried everywhere, and -- despite popular conceptions -- robotic backpacks are not as useful as the manufacturers would have you believe. Plus, the odds of us finding Liar McGreenSuit before Space Napolean's plans come to fruition are small, and managing that feat while leaving enough time for Liar McGreenSuit to stage a valiant victory is... one second... Yes, statistically impossible in practical circumstances. To be honest, I expected a little more resistance in the face of an excursion that -- by most margins -- would be considered suicidal.
Ratchet: …We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 7, 2014
Clank: So, Ratchet, what is the history behind this fine, hand-built space craft?
Ratchet: I wouldn’t want to bore you.
Clank: On the contrary, I am hopelessly intrigued.
Ratchet : Alright. It belonged to my grandfather. He was born low class on the other side of the planet, in a small hovel prone to mud-floods. In a particularly bad year, his father was taken from him during a flood, leaving him to provide for his weakened mother. Later that year, raiders from the outer tribes carried her away for unspeakable purposes. He vowed then to one day find and rescue her -- assuming she was still alive when he got there. Even though he was a physician by profession, he dropped everything to become a mechanic. He spent the next 53 years of his life building the pieces from scrap metal salvaged from flooded hovels. He was always too proud to ask or help, or to take handouts, but he struggled on. At some point, he sheltered a woman whose house had been destroyed by the raiders, and their mutual comfort conceived my father. Unfortunately, a particularly bad case of the mud-rage took hold of my grandfather, and my father had to put him to sleep. My father couldn't stand to look at the ship grandfather had spent so much of his life on. After fathering me, he flew off with the military and never returned. Since I was a small boy, I've been trying to repair this ship. I could never decide whether to pursue my father or my grandmother, or to find some other path in the galaxy, but I always knew I wanted off of the rock that had caused my family so much trouble.
Clank: That is an extraordinary story. I would be honored if you would let me pilot such a noble craft.
Ratchet: Alright. Be careful.
Clank: I assure you, I will handle this majestic machine with the upmost care.
Clank: I am sure there will be another suitable ship on this planet somewhere.
Clank: Look, Ratchet, I’m very sorry about your craft. But in all reality, you should have thought to warn me about the sticky controls. No true mechanic should forget to grease his steering column, let alone let an untrained robot pilot the craft without warning him of the lack. Also, if you didn’t plan for the ship to be flipped, that should have been mentioned.
Clank: As I said, I am very sorry. If you want, I can analyze the wreckage for some of the lesser burned shrapnel. Perhaps it can be attached to the new craft for some sentimental value.
Clank: I don’t mean to rush, but we really are on a strict time table here, and every moment we spend standing around is another moment Space Napolean can move toward his goals. I know this ship held some memories for you, but we need to be pressing on. Considering this unfortunate situation, what are your suggestions for moving forward?
Clank: … Ratchet?
Clank: … Ratchet?
Ratchet : ... *sigh* ... We'll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 13, 2014
Clank: Excuse, me. Ratchet?
Clank: I know I am far from an expert when it comes to starship navigation, but it would appear that we should be heading in the opposite direction if we are to follow our latest lead on Captain Liar McGreenSuit. Might I know why we are so quickly abandoning our mission?
Ratchet: To talk with Radical Surfer Dude.
Clank: Do you imagine he will know where Liar McGreenSuit is? Otherwise, I don’t see his use in our quest.
Ratchet: He has a hoverboard.
Clank: Yes. How is that supposed to help?
ship screeches to a halt
Clank: What?! What’s going on?
Ratchet: You don’t think a hoverboard would be helpful?
Clank: I don’t see any statistical advantage, no.
Ratchet: … I…. I don’t even know what to say.
Clank: Well, it's not a multi-tool or a weapon or a legitimate mode of transport. It isn't particularly valuable, unique, or rare. Hoverboarders -- statistically -- aren't truly respected by popular society, so increase in social stature seems slim. No, I just don't see how they can be of any use.
Ratchet: …Okay, let me ask you this. Answer honestly. Let’s say you were at the top of the tallest building in Blackwater City, and you needed to get to the bottom as fast as possible. But, along the way you needed to simultaneously kill 4 or 5 robots, confuse the missile systems from a tank on the ground, and impress the love of your life. How would you go about it?
Clank: To begin, I would access the elevator and ride it to the bottom floor. A height advantage would afford me very little in this situation. The missiles are the most pertinent part of the equation, so I would hack into the tanks’ systems and disable the missiles via radar. If the robots could not be eliminated in a similar manner, I could easily configure the tank to eliminate them. As for the love of my life, if she wasn’t sufficiently impressed with my exploits thus far, I doubt any further action would woo her. If that were the case, I’d find someone else to procreate with.
Clank: I feel that I have adequately completed your hypothetical simulation. Now, please explain to me why hoverboards are important.
Ratchet: …I just don’t think you would understand.
Clank: Was there a hoverboard in the equation? I don't see where it would have been advantageous. I could perhaps GIVE the hoverboard to the girl, but that would only be beneficial if she was herself a hoverboarder, but the chances of her being a hoverboarder while simultaneously not owning a hoverboard are very small. The hoverboard could be used as a kind of riot shield, but it would be woefully inadequate against even the most rudimentary of blasters. Unless the robots in question were equipped with only melee weapons -- which, considering you included a ranged technology by way of the tank, seems unlikely -- a shield would be useless. The only way the hoverboard is relevant is if you had stolen it, and their efforts were focused on retrieving the hoverboard from you. Then, you could return it.
Ratchet: I think… I think you’re just going to have to trust me.
Clank: I do trust you, but I feel that it is important for the team dynamic for us to be synchronized.
Ratchet: We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 15, 2014
Ratchet: So, explain it to me again. Why are we chasing down Liar McGreenSuit?
Clank: It’s quite simple. Space Napolean’s planet is no longer inhabitable due to industrial pollution. So, Napolean decided to vacate that planet and find another. However, instead of choosing another location, he has decided to wrest the choicest pieces of the most fortunate planets in the galaxy to create a paradise for him and his people. We are locating Liar McGreenSuit so he can prevent Space Napolean from completing his nefarious plans.
Ratchet: Right. But, it’s not really a bad plan.
Clank: What do you mean?
Ratchet: Well, let’s say I was the leader of a group of people. If we had made mistakes in our past as to the dumping of toxic waste, unnatural growth of industry, etc. and I was looking to find the best and freshest start for me and my people, I would probably do something similar.
Clank: Yes, but his motives are not the good of his people. I believe financial gain is his primary goal.
Ratchet: I don’t blame him. If I had a plan to create the most desirable place in the galaxy, I’d charge people to live there too. It doesn’t mean I’m a bad person necessarily. It just means I’m a businessman, and a good one at that.
Clank: What of the planets he’s destroying to create his paradise? What of the current inhabitants that don’t want their planet to be destroyed in the process of crafting another?
Ratchet: Let me ask you this. What if we find Liar McGreenSuit, tell him of the galaxy’s woes, and he runs off to fight Space Napolean. When he gets there, he tells Space Napolean to cease his evil misdeeds or he will suffer the consequences. Space Napolean says no. What should Liar McGreenSuit do?
Clank: I anticipate your direction, but the situations are not entirely similar.
Ratchet: The only difference is morality and perspective. On one hand, Space Napolean destroys several planets to create a new -- albeit expensive -- home for his people and anyone else who wants to live there. He creates a perfect paradise, where everything is available to its inhabitants. On the other hand, Liar McGreenSuit saves the day, rescues the planets doomed to destruction, and prevents catastrophe... on all but one planet. Liar McGreenSuit has now doomed all of the inhabitants of Space Napolean's planet to a radioactive death.
Clank: Relocation to other planets is possible.
Ratchet: But no matter where they went, they would never truly have a home. That’s no different than Space Napolean’s plans. The only difference is who needs to relocate and the body count.
Clank: The body count is what makes the decision statistically clear. Basic comparison of numbers proves it is statistically obvious that preventing Space Napolean’s actions would be the most profitable thing for the galaxy.
Ratchet: But those kinds of equations don’t account for the value of a people. Look at it this way. Which planet sounds more useful for the continued well-being of the galaxy: a planet entirely made up of blue water, sandy beach resorts, or a planet ruled by snarling pus-filled wildebeests; a planet with every biome imaginable or a planet entirely covered by desert; a planet of technology and industry or a planet of sticks and stones?
Clank: A planet with resorts, multiple biomes, technology and industry would appear to be a more suita-
Ratchet: THAT is the exact planet Space Napolean is trying to make. Do I agree with his tactics? Not necessarily. Do I think he should destroy the planets he annexes? No. I think he could find other, less wasteful uses for them. But do I understand his vision? Yes, even if I don’t think a businessman should be running the show. I don’t support his methods and I do think he should be stopped. All I’m saying is don’t discredit the vision of a person simply because it isn’t one you share.
Clank: … Could we coerce him into hitting a girl?
Ratchet: We’ll figure something out.
Saving the Galaxy 05: Simple Taste
Ratchet & Clank | May 19, 2014
Gadgetron: Okay, so what I’ve got here is the Mine Glove.
Ratchet: What are the benefits?
Gadgetron: I’m assuming you’ve purchased our highly popular Bomb Glove?
Ratchet: Of course.
Gadgetron: Okay, great. So what I’ve got here is similar to that, but think of it as an interesting upgrade. It still loads and enlarges the bombs through the shrink chamber, but instead of loading your typical bombs, it will load up mines. Just throw them down on the ground, and anyone who walks, floats, or coughs near it will be dead.
Ratchet: Mhm… So an obvious drawback I’m noting here is that I often walk, float, and cough. What’s to prevent these mines from killing me?
Gadgetron: Ah, I can tell you have an eye for the details. Tell you what. I’ll throw in the “Not Me!!!” mine debunker for an extra 500 bolts. It automatically catalogues your gloves signature into every mine, so they will ignore you and explode for others.
Ratchet: That’s nice… very nice indeed. Hmm… would you say it was better than the Blaster?
Gadgetron: Uhm... I wouldn't presume to go that far. The Blaster -- as I'm sure you know -- is by far our most popular product, and the popularity speaks to its quality. I doubt you'll soon find anything to top that hardware. HOWEVER, I would have no problem recommending this for your support or tactical arsenal.
Ratchet: I agree. I’ll take it. Full ammo as well.
Clank: … Excuse me… Ratchet? Is this really wise?
Ratchet: Of course. If I don’t get full ammunition, I’m certain to run across a situation where I’ll be depleted and need it.
Clank: I was referencing the Mine Glove. You rarely use the Bomb Glove in any scenario. Is an additional unit really necessary?
Ratchet: Yes, for tactical reasons. I could name a thousand scenarios where this would be useful.
Ratchet: Fine. One, I could use it to lay traps behind us to prevent enemies from sneaking up and taking us unaware.
Clank: The likelihood of that is astronomical. You frequently go out of your way to slaughter everything. In fact… it has forced me question your psychological well b-
Ratchet: You never know. I might miss one someday, and that’ll be the day we die.
Ratchet: TWO, if I simultaneously approach two groups of enemies -- one with blasters and the other pack dogs, I can use the mine glove to set up an explosive perimeter to deal with the pack dogs while I take out group one.
Clank: Yes, but again, the odds are very unlikely. It’s more likely you’ll decimate everything with the blaster and if an enemy strays too close you’ll utilize your OmniWrench.
Ratchet: Clank… You have to be open to new and exciting options when considering your arsenal. If you don’t evolve, you die.
Clank: But these are just MINES! They are immobile. They offer very little dynamic tactical advantage if u-
Gadgetron: If you’re looking for mines that MOVE, then look no further than the appropriately named Glove of Doom. It creates tiny minions that will kamikaze themselves at enemies en masse. They are highly intelligent, highly humorous, and best of all… highly explosive.
Ratchet: No….. way…..
Clank: How much?
Gadgetron: For this high-tech beauty? A mere 8,000 bolts.
Clank: Are you delirious? Ratchet, even if we possessed that many bolts, they would be better spent on maneuverability upgrades for me, additional ammo for your… expensive antics, or at the very least for a more original technology from another vendor. Back to the ship.
Gadgetron: … How about 7,500?
Ratchet: … We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 21, 2014
Clank: Liar McGreenSuit! LIAR MCGREENSUIT!!!
Liar: Ah, what is this? It appears I am being assaulted by a young robotic annoyance! And what might you want you gullible little thing?
Clank: It is fortunate we found you Liar McGreenSuit! We have fou-
Liar: We? Who is we? Do you have a friend, my little tin man?
Clank: I do. His name is R-
Ratchet: Ratchet. My name is -
Liar: Ratchet? What an odd and horrific name. It would appear my mechanic has a tool set named after you! So, what do you and your can opener want with the great Captain Liar McGreenSuit?
Clank: Liar, sir, we are here to warn you of a nefarious plot being carried out by the terrible Space Napolean! He’s -
Liar: Space Napolean? What is ol' Gantu- ... Ahem... tell me of his plans.
Clank: Well, he’s planning to commandeer a piece o-
Liar: Spare the details for later. He must be STOPPED!!! Say, you wouldn’t be interested in being… a HERO… by any chance?
Ratchet: We’re already well on our way t-
Clank: It is far beyond the duties of a simple robot, sir, but yes, I have often thought about joining the ranks of sp-
Liar: Fantastic! Captain Liar McGreenSuit will join forces with the Appliance and the Rat to stop evil Space Napolean from… completing his evil nastiness. Meet me at my home base on Planet Death-to-Ratchet and we’ll go over the battle plan.
Ratchet: Wait a m-
Clank: We’ll see you there.
Liar: OH! You scared me. I didn't expect you to li- arrive so early.
Clank: Neither did I. Now, abou-
Ratchet: Woah, woah, woah, hold on. Liar, whose side are you on?
Liar: Space Napolean’s.
Liar: … I’M KIDDING! I’m on your side, of course. Why do you ask?
Ratchet: Because I just ran through the playground of a sadistic maniac. I’m an avid follower of Gadgetron’s catalogs, but there’s military equipment out there I haven’t even heard of.
Liar: I have no idea what you’re speaking of, young fur beast.
Ratchet: Seriously? You have revolving spike mines with dynamic intelligence systems. You didn't notice that? What about the burrowing sentry turret systems? None of that pinged your radar? The gauntlet arranged on your front doorstep is worthy of the most protective of military bases, and you're telling me that nothing -- none of the death traps, lasers, or GIANT PIRANHAS -- was approved by you beforehand?
Liar: … Yes
Clank: … So, shall we discuss Space Napolean?
Liar: We will tiny metal thing, but first…
Ratchet : No way... *backs off*
Clank : Come on, Ratchet. *drags Ratchet*
Liar: HaHA!!! *pulls lever* MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Clank: Ratchet, I would like to formally apologize.
Clank: I feel that… though the situation is currently unfortunate for the both of us…
Clank: I still think the core idea was a legitimate one. Space Napolean must be stopped.
Clank : It's true that Liar McGreenSuit proved to be a... a non-viable option -- what with the deception, fraud, passive attempted murder, trapdoor into the lava basement, and the impending doom of the Snagglebeast -- but I feel that we -- as a team -- can triumph over this unforeseen setback.
Clank: I take full responsibility for not discovering Liar McGreenSuit’s nature until it was too late. His ruse was impressive indeed, and I am sorry that my fraud detection capabilities were far inferior to yours.
Clank: I… I also apologize for both literally and metaphorically pulling you into this death trap.
Clank: So, right now... If you would be so kind... there seems to be a large Snagglebeast with force shields and fire-blast capabilities headed this way. I would -- of course -- handle him if I could, but the size advantage is... considerable, and I feel that my combat skills -- which pale in comparison to yours -- would be inadequate.
Ratchet : ... *walks off*
Clank: So… yes… Good… We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 27, 2014
Clank: In light of recent… events, I will explore this planet myself. Feel free to relax and do whatever it is mammals do to have a nice evening.
Ratchet: I still haven’t forgiven you. I seriously doubt I ever will.
Clank: That is to be expected. Still, wait here, and I will return with the infobot.
Ratchet: ... *sigh* wait. Even though -- as of now -- I'm thinking it would be better if I were to let you die, I feel like I might regret that later. Take my Glove of Doom.
Clank: I appreciate your generosity and your… concern, but it isn’t necessary. I have minions of my own.
Ratchet: When did you get minions of your own?
Clank: I don’t carry them with me. I can use specific radio signals to subdue any robot into servitude.
Ratchet: Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that this ENTIRE TIME…
Clank: No, I may have exaggerated a bit. I cannot control robots that possess any version of artificial intelligence chip. It must be something simple.
Ratchet: Like a blender? What help will that be to you in a combat situation?
Clank : In most places, architects install housekeeping minions throughout the more expensive structures -- such as this -- to handle rudimentary tasks. I plan to control those.
Ratchet: Let me get this straight. You're saying that instead of taking my Glove of Doom -- which can spawn tiny, intelligent bombers that auto-target any nearby threats and remove them with explosions -- you want to depend on non-intelligent housekeepers that do nothing useful other than clean and get in the way. Oh, and let's not forget that they may or MAY NOT even be there.
Clank: I’m not completely defenseless. I do have some combat programming.
Ratchet: Oh really? Then why have you been riding on my back over the last several planets providing no form of support other than the occasional higher jump -- WHICH, by the way, I wouldn't even need on a planet that provided a decent amount of Grappling Points?
Clank: My movement capabilities are far less than your own. I didn’t want to slow you down. To be fair, I did warn you initially.
Ratchet: YOU HAVE A HELIPACK!!!
Clank: I also have to carry the considerable amounts of bolts that you acquire a-
Ratchet: I could buy a bloody backpack! Just take the Glove so I’ll have a clear conscience. That will be one thing you will not take away from me.
Clank: I can perform just as well without it.
Clank: Very well. But know that I will not be using it unless I encounter a situation that cannot be solved otherwise. You spend enough on ammunition as it is.
Ratchet: Now is not the time to be lecturing me on the price of questionable decisions. If I need more bolts for something, I can go gather more. If -- let's say -- we were dragged into a Snagglebeast deat-
Clank: Hand me the Glove. I’m still convinced it is a mistake, and its use will cause my destruction.
Ratchet: … We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | May 28, 2014
Clank: This hostility between us is not productive towards stopping Liar McGrenSuit or Space Napolean. Our relationship needs to be repaired.
Ratchet: I’m sure you’d like that. It’s easy to think that when it’s your fault.
Clank: I understand. Still… is there anything I could do to restore our friendship?
Ratchet: Nothing comes to mind.
Clank: Ratchet, I have two new additions for your arsenal.
Ratchet: Really? I thought you said I spent too much on it as is.
Clank: I have revised my opinion. Here.
Ratchet: What… What are these?
Clank: The first is called the Taunter. It creates a high frequency sonar that will attract enemies to your location as well as trigger any nearby explosive boxes. The second is called the Walloper. It allows you to strike your enemies with more force than normal melee strength would allow. I thought they were both excellent tactical purchases, and I think you’ll be quite pleased with them.
Ratchet: Um… no. If this is your method for making up, it’s a dismal one.
Clank: How so?
Ratchet: Well for starters, neither of them explode, auto-target, or include on-board artificial intelligence, which -- if you had been paying any attention at all to my tastes over the last several planets -- you should know are my top three priorities when it comes to weaponry. The first "weapon" makes it easier for my enemies to find me, and just in case they can't, all they have to do is place explosive boxes everywhere -- which they already do -- and the boxes will take care of me for them. The second weapon is completely redundant and pointless as I already have a wrench that I am highly capable with, and I only use that for melee attacks when I don't have time to switch to the proper ranged weapon. For all intents and purposes, you have literally wasted my time, money, and inventory space.
Clank: I could try to get a refund if you-
Ratchet: No, I’ll keep them. But if this is how you plan to say sorry, you’re going to have to do a lot better than this.
Ratchet: Are… Are those…
Clank: Rocket thrusters? Yes. I thought you’d enjoy them.
Ratchet: What are… what do they do, exactly?
Clank: They allow for an increased upthrust at a much faster rate, increased forward thrust at the faster rate, better in-air stability, better aesthetics, better fuel efficiency, and they can be quickly reversed to create a “Ground Pound” effect.
Ratchet: I… I think this may make things… slightly better.
Clank: Excellent. Now we can continue our quest to protect the galaxy unobstructed by petty squabbles.
Ratchet: I wouldn’t go THAT far… but, we’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | June 7, 2014
Clank: I have a question, and forgive me if this is something painfully obvious.
Ratchet: We’ll see. Go ahead.
Clank: Over the course of our adventures, we have travelled between a great many planets. Now, admittedly, I was only manufactured a short time ago, and therefore lack experience with space flight, but why must you flip the ship all of the time? I was under the impression from our first… encounter… that flips were negative.
Ratchet: Simple, fuel economy.
Clank: … You must be joking.
Ratchet: Not at all. Think about it. How often have you seen me fill up any space ship that I fly?
Clank: I haven’t.
Ratchet: Exactly. It works like this. Each fuel tank on a spaceship is designed to suck the fuel through the transfer pipes and into the hyperdrive which converts the fuel into energy / momentum. What a lot of people don’t know is that the hyperdrive actually requires much less fuel than one would think for most cases. Day-to-day space travel actually doesn’t require much energy, especially if you use the military grade. However, manufacturers don’t want to lose out on the fuel costs since most of them have their hands in that business as well. So they keep the transfer pipes larger than they need to be, so your spaceship swallows more fuel and you have to pay more in the long run. I do flips to disturb the flow and keep fuel suction to a minimum, keeping our fuel economy high.
Clank: You’re making that up.
Clank: … Do spaceships even use traditional fuel?
Ratchet: … No. They use energy cells that take decades to run out of power. You can buy them from practically any Gadgetron vendor.
Clank: That’s what I thought. So what’s the real reason you flip all of the time?
Ratchet: Do you really not understand?
Clank: Is this another hoverboard scenario?
Ratchet: Probably. You really need to work on… being normal. It’s incredibly helpful in dealing with… most things.
Clank: We’ll think of something I’m sure.
Ratchet & Clank | June 8, 2014
Ratchet: Finally, we know where Liar McGreenSuit is, and we can take him out once and for all.
Clank: Indeed. Though, it seems we have a problem. He has control of an entire Moon Base, and we have a small ship incapable of battling it.
Ratchet: I seriously doubt he’s competent enough to have an entire Moon Base under control. I say we fly in, dock in one of the outer ports, and make our way inside. Hopefully, we can find something there that will help us blow him up. At the very least, we should be able to commandeer a defense turret.
Clank: I dislike the idea of proceeding without a definite course of action. What if we are unable to “commandeer” a turret or some other large artillery?
Ratchet: In all fairness to myself, my personal arsenal isn’t exactly lacking. I’ll pack up everything I have and bring it with us. If we can’t have a turret, surely SOMETHING in my pack will be of use.
Clank: I’m impressed.
Clank: With you. You actually utilized the majority of your arsenal instead of only relying on your blaster. I think you’re maturing as a gun-toting maniac.
Ratchet: Really? I WAS trying to branch out a little. The problem is… I seriously doubt I have enough rocket launchers to take out Liar, and I had to destroy or disable all of the turrets just to get this far.
Clank: You didn’t set any aside?
Ratchet: How was I supposed to know that the Moon Base was run by giant electro-towers that are only breachable via rocket destruction? What kind of architectural planning is that?
Clank: Apparently ingenious. We are now in need of a new plan, as I knew we would be. If only we had a fighter ship of our own…
Ratchet: And you scoffed!
Ratchet: Don’t try to deny it. I heard you when you were packing up my things. ‘The probability of us finding a fighter ship is slim to none. The Pilot’s Helmet isn’t necessary.’ Look at us now!
Clank: The odds WERE infinitesimal and you know it.
Ratchet: We're sitting in one. *smiles*
Clank: Just shoot down Liar and let’s be gone.
Liar: Ah ha, who is this now? My little infestations come back to haunt me?
Ratchet: Prepare to die, Liar.
Liar: Die? I think not my little furball. For I am the great Captain Liar McGreenSuit, Protector of the Stars, Milkman of the Galaxy, Courtesan of Maidens. I have honed my skills over many years in Starfleet, and many more years as a private Hero. I have legions of soldiers surrounding your pitiful excuse for a fighter ship, while I man the second-deadliest starship ever produced by Blaarg Industries. You are outmatched in firepower, experience, prowess, and every other imaginable measurement. Fly your meager ship to the nearest moon and I will make your death quick and fiery.
Ratchet: A moment of silence, if you would.
Clank: For Liar?
Ratchet: No. A moment of silence in reflection… of the time when you said the side-quest to obtain a helmet that allows me to control ships WITH MY MIND… was a ‘waste of time’. Please bow your head.
Clank: Ratchet, I think you’re going a bit far with this.
Ratchet: Okay, thank you. Now, for Liar McGreenSuit. I’d like to think that the fiery inferno of his ship scorched him to crispy goodness, but I don’t want to rely on happy thoughts. I vote we go down there and make sure he’s decapitated.
Clank: Don’t you think that’s a bit gruesome?
Ratchet: Burned, decapitated, mutilated, it’s all the same. We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | June 9, 2014
Ratchet: Come on, Clank, it’s just a little storm. Nothing to be scared of.
Clank: You aren’t fabricated from metal.
Ratchet: The chances of you being hit by lightning are astronomical. We’ve landed in a city of giant metal skyscrapers. IF any lightning were to strike, it certainly wouldn’t hit you of all things.
Clank: Inside my head, I have advanced electro-magnetic nanotechnology. It pulls electric charges from my surroundings, meaning I never have to charge myself. That same technology makes me a prime target for lightning, which -- if it were to strike -- would completely fry my motherboard, and you would be left without a Robotic Ignition System.
Ratchet: So… that’s a negative. Fine. I’ll go find Liar and you stay nice and cozy in the ship.
Clank: I will. Thank you.
Clank: So, how did it go?
Clank: Are you okay?
Ratchet: … I hate this planet.
Clank: What happened?
Ratchet: EVERYTHING!!! Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong and I had no help whatsoever with it.
Clank: I apologize for -
Ratchet: FIRST, I had no rocket thrusters on the one planet which REQUIRES THEM. I had to use my Grappling Hook like a maniac just to cross the street. AND, to top things off, there are giant rifts EVERYWHERE. Would you like to know what’s at the bottom of those Rifts?
Clank: I don-
Ratchet: MUD!!! Giant pits of crawling, seeping mud. There’s an entire civilization of people who have fallen into those rifts. Do you know what the government does about it? NOTHING. NOT… A… THING!!! I had to climb out with the help of an entire merchant guild, and I had to BUY their help with what bolts I had on me. (By the way, I have a discount card now, throw that in the glove box.)
Clank: A discount fo-
Ratchet: AND, once I was out, I was targeted by a million sentry robots heading thousands of those burrowing turrets from Planet Death-to-Ratchet, and I was shot SEVEN TIMES!!!
Clank: Are you okay? Maybe we should g-
Ratchet: AND!!! You are not going to believe this…. I found Liar McGreenSuit.
Clank: Really, what w-
Ratchet: SOMEHOW, he wormed his way into being a local spokesman for Gadgetron. GADGETRON!!! He’s helps the galaxy’s most notorious villain destroy planets and murder millions, and when he’s finally defeated by valiant heroes, he lands my dream job.
Clank: Did you ki-
Ratchet: I COULDN’T!!! He’s a registered Gadgetron employee now, and they are the LAST people we want to anger.
Clank: Calm down. We’ll figure som-
Ratchet: HE CHANGED HIS NAME TO STEEEEEEEEVE!!!
Clank: Okay, just lie down. We’ll figure something out.
Ratchet & Clank | June 11, 2014
Napolean: Minions! Come here. I have an assignment for you.
Napolean: As you know, over the past several months, we have been dealing with an increasingly annoying presence. This Ratchet and Clank duo has been messing with my Grand Master Scheme for too long now, and they must be stopped. I have sent others to take care of them, but all of their efforts proved to bumbling and futile. So, now I am prepared to send you -- my very best -- against them.
Minion 1: Yessir, bossir. You can rely on us. We’re your guys!
Minion 2: Yeah, boss. These Clatchet and Rank fellas ain’t got nuth’n on us!
Minion 3: We aren-
Napolean: Quiet! Do NOT interrupt me. As I was saying, these two must be stopped. As of now, my sources indicate they are headed for the Gadgetron home planet. No doubt they are gearing up for another attack on our bases. So, I am sending you to Gadgetron in our newest and fastest star cruiser. You will be outfitted accordingly, but feel free to make use of any gadgetry you find on Gadgetron itself. Stacy will cover the costs when you SUCCESSFULLY return.
Minion 1: Yessir. We’ll handle it, sir. No worries.
Minion 2: We can just take whatever we want from Gadgetron? Wooh, boy! This is gonna be a fun trip!
Minion 3: I really don’t think-
Napolean: Quiet! I’ll not tell you again! As I was saying, your gear will be provided. However, we can’t be sure that these nuisances haven’t worked out some kind of deal with Gadgetron. They’ve slipped through our fingers before, and I find it hard to believe they are doing it on their own. So, you WILL kill Ratchet and Clank, and if you have to destroy Gadgetron in the process… so be it.
Minion 1: Understood, sir. We’ll do whatever it takes.
Minion 2: I LOVE explosions! We’ll be needin’ to figure out some kinda device to-
Minion 3: HANG ON A MINUTE!!! You want us to BLOW UP Gadgetron? Are we talking about the same company here? In case you’ve somehow forgotten, Gadgetron is the biggest corporation in the Galaxy by a LARGE margin. They have vendors in multiple locations on EVERY KNOWN PLANET IN THE GALAXY. They manufacture the highest grade weapons technology and have no qualms about handing this technology to the inhabitants of every planet they interact with. They have higher ratings than any politician that has ever lived, and if you stop and notice, they have NO COMPITITION! NONE! Why do you think that is? Are you seriously suggesting that we go to the home turf of THIS company, and threaten to blow it up if they won’t surrender a rat and a robot that they MIGHT be working with?
Minion 1: …
Minion 2: …
Napolean: … Minion 1?
Minion 1 : Yessir. *CRACK* Minion 4!... MINION 4!!!
Minion 4: What?
Minion 1: You’re now Minion 3. Stand in line… Go ahead, sir.
Napolean: … Ahem … If you have to destroy Gadgetron in the process… So be it.
Ratchet & Clank | June 12, 2014
Napolean: MINIONS! Gather for the filming of my infomercial… As you all know, the past several months have been spent gathering and fusing the most perfect portions of the ideal worlds into one super awesome planet. Now, REJOICE… for it is complete. The exact monetization and share prices will be forwarded to you via memo at a later date. However, there IS one final problem before everything we have been dreaming of is ours. We have analyzed every quadrant in the galaxy to find the perfect orbit for our new planet. It just so happens that the perfect orbit for our planet is already occupied by another celestial body. For the sake of simplicity, let’s call it… Alderan… or… something. Anyway, it’s in the way, so it needs to be destroyed.
Minion: So we need to find something big enough to destroy it?
Napolean: Actually, no. We already have a weapon capable of such a feat. It’s incredibly large, and should be able to clear the path at a push of the button. However, there’s still a problem to be solved. Anyone care to guess?
Napolean: Seriously? Okay, how about this? The first person to guess what’s wrong with this picture gets a free spot in the biome of their choice on the new planet.
Minion: … Ratchet and Clank?
Napolean: No. They are being handled by Minions 1-3. No, there is something else. Does no one see it?
Napolean: THE NAME!!! We’ve created the first weapon capable of completely obliterating a planet. It has to have a truly phenomenal name. I’ve gathered you here for a vote. Everyone talk amongst yourselves for 10 minutes, then write down your favorite suggestion and put it in the helmet.
Napolean: Okay, let’s see what my creative minions have offered. Do you have the results?
Minion 5: Yessir. Here you go.
Napolean: Okay. Coming in Third Place… Megadeth Destroyer of Worlds. I like it, though I’d like to use something a little more.. subtle. Second Place… Jeff…
Napolean: Moving on… First Place…. Death Star? What kind of name is that?
Minion 72: It sounded cool. And.. we were thinking… we were thinking we could also tell people it was shaped like a moon… so they would be EXTRA confused.
Napolean: Minion 5?
Minion 5: Yessir.... *SNAP*
Napolean: … Ahem… we will not be calling the weapon the Death Star. If this is truly the best my legions can come up with, then we’ll resort to something scientific. Minion S, what was the Project Codename?
Minion S: The De-Planetizer, sir.
Napolean: Is everyone okay with that?
Napolean: Excellent. Minion S, cut out the stencil.
Ratchet & Clank | June 14, 2014
Ratchet: FINALLY we know where Space Napolean is hiding. I can’t wait to rip him a new one.
Clank: Wait a minute… What did you just say?
Ratchet: I said I’m glad we know wh-
Clank: No, the last bit…
Ratchet: Rip him a new one?
Clank: … How many bolts do we have?
Ratchet: Quite a bit. I’ve already purchased the entire Gadgetron catalog, so there’s not really anything to spend them on other than ammo.
Clank: Back to the ship. We need to travel to Blackwater City.
Ratchet: What’s back there? I’ve already won their hoverboard tournament. Are they having another?
Clank: Trust me.
Ratchet: … The last time I-
Clank: Please. If this works, you will forgive me and more.
Clank: Ratchet, meet Shady. He is a weapons vendor that DOESN’T work for Gadgetron, but has something I think you’ll like.
Ratchet: If it’s not from Gadgetron, then how can it be better than what I already have?
Shady: C’mon, kid, gimme a break here. Will you at least take a look at what I got to offer?
Ratchet: … Okay.
Shady: Alright. What I got here IS from Gadgetron, but you can’t buy it from no catalog. This here is the R.Y.N.O., which stands for Rip Ya a New One. With each pull o’ the trigger it fires 7 auto-targeting missiles that are capable of avoiding both the environment and each other. There’s no range limit and the auto-targeting is good enough that you don’t really have to aim either. The explosions are powerful enough to take out most enemies with a single missile, but if they don’t, the others will pick up the slack. It comes with 25 missiles, but can hold double that… You interested?
Clank: … Ratchet?
Ratchet: … I’ll… I’ll take it. Everything… All of it.
Shady: Hey, kid, this ain’t no toy. You gotta pay f-
Ratchet: Take everything… It doesn’t matter… Just… Just take it.
Shady: Alright. Here you go. Why don’t you go ahead and take a test shot just to make sure I ain’t cheatin’ ya.
Shady: So, what do you think?
Clank: Ratchet? Are you crying?
Ratchet : ... This... *sniff*... This is it, Clank. Everything we've been searching for... We've.... *sniff*... We've figured it out.
Ratchet & Clank | June 16, 2014
Napolean: Ratchet and Clank! We meet at last. However, I fear that you are too late. My plan is very nearly complete and you have no possible way to stop me.
Clank: Unfortunately for you, w-
Ratchet: Clank… Let him finish.
Napolean: … Ahem… NO POSSIBLE WAY TO STOP ME!!! As you are likely aware, your tiny planet of… whatever it’s called… is about to be destroyed by the De-Planetizer! I knew my horribly incompetent minions would fail to destroy you, so I am prepared to do it myself. BEHOLD, MY CLEVER ROBOT OF INFINITE DEATH, DOOM, & DESTRUCTION!!!
Clank: … Impressive.
Ratchet: … M.C.R.O.I.D?
Napolean: Excuse me?
Ratchet: Your robot’s name. It’s M.C.R.O.I.D.?
Napolean: No… I mean technically it’s M.C.R.O.I.D.D.D, but we don’t use the acronym in this case. Its name is MY CLEVER RO-
Clank: Can we continue please? We have yet to unvei-
Ratchet: Clank… Patience.
Napolean: …It’s okay. I’m done.
Ratchet: Great! So, you have M.C.R.O.I.D. We have R.Y.N.O. Just throwing this out there, but I’m guessing the only weakness to that giant suit of robo-tech is high-level explosives, correct?
Napolean: … What of it?
Ratchet: So you understand why we think we’ll beat you?
Napolean: … Uh… Yeah. Definitely. I think “beat” is a bit of an understatement… Hmm… Auto-targeting you said?
Ratchet: That’s correct.
Napolean: … Well, I think we’re done here.
Clank: Excuse me?
Napolean: There’s really no point, is there? I mean, let’s be honest. I have some incredibly high-powered explosives on this thing, but they’re slow moving, and you’ll likely have no problem getting out of the way. The same goes for robo-crushing and any kind of melee. The only real shot I have of doing any damage would be to destroy the ground underneath your feet, but considering your Grapple Shot, the Rocket Thrusters, and whatever else you have, that won’t do any good either and I’ll likely just threaten myself…
Napolean: I don’t suppose giant buttons are an obstacle for you? I installed giant buttons on the De-Planetizer.
Ratchet: We could handle that. With the auto-targeting, I could probably handle that WHILE shooting.
Napolean: Plenty of ammo?
Ratchet: Maxed out.
Napolean: … Okay, which death sequence were you planning?
Ratchet: I was thinking… Clank, what were you thinking?
Ratchet: … How about… high explosive shot to the new planet?
Napolean: Won’t that be painful?
Ratchet: It shouldn’t be too bad with all of that armor. The worst part would be the gravitational sickness of switching between planets. Then, the impact on the other planet should crush your mech-suit nicely and you’ll be a puddle of goop.
Napolean: … Very well. Where do you want me?
Ratchet: Well, our quest is complete.
Ratchet: What’s wrong?
Clank: … That…. That’s it?
Ratchet: Yeah, why?
Clank: … That was… very easy.
Ratchet: Yeah. I told you… We figured it out.
Clank: … But… how do we know he’s dead? What if he comes back later with a horrible plan for vengeance and nastiness? What if he tries this scheme again in a different galaxy and we aren’t around to save everyone?! What if he managed to steer himself off course and he’s circling around to attack us again? What i-
Clank: … Yes?
Ratchet: Would blowing up the planet make you feel better?
Clank: … yes.
Ratchet: Okay. We’ll do it… together.
Clank : *smiles*
Clank: … WAY too cheesy. What has gotten into you? We are NOT ending our long and painful adventures through the most hellish places in the galaxy with a comment like that. We need to take the time formulate some kind of one-liner or catch-phrase to wrap everything up and do this correctly. Something brilliant and witty, but not too complicated. I propose a collaborative brainstorming session.
Ratchet : ... *pushes button*... We'll figure something out.
Super Mario Strikers | November 28, 2012
Koopa #1: Uh, guys? Can we talk for a second?
Koopa’s #2 & #3: Yeah, sure, what’s up?
Koopa #1: Have you guys noticed Mario lately? He seems a bit… I dunno… cocky?
Koopa #2: Yeah, I noticed that too. I mean, it’s not terribly bad, but he does seem to call for the ball a bit more than he used to. I hadn’t really noticed until you mentioned it.
Koopa #1: Well, normally I wouldn’t say anything, but there’s this girl, and this is the first game she’s been able to come to…
Koopa #2: Oh, yeah, no problem. We’ll send it your way.
Koopa #1: Thanks.
Koopa #2: No problem!
Koopa #1: Guys?
Koopa #2: We’ve been trying! Mario keeps jumping in.
Koopa #3 : It's infuriating! Why does he need the ball all of the time? I mean, we're- hang on a sec'.
Koopa #1: I taught that to him! I picked that up during my semester with Bowser, and he’s used it every game without once giving me credit.
Koopa #2: Well we definitely need to talk to him about his ego. It has gotten entirely out of hand.
Mario: I’m open! Gimme the ball!
Koopa #2: Uh, no thanks bro. I’m gonna go with him.
Koopa #1: Okay! Down the middle, then a fake to the outside, a spin to mess with the inevitable guard, then the goalie is all mine. I really need an assist though. Crap….
Mario: I’m open! Gimme the ball!
Koopa #1: Okay! Go for the assist!
Koopa #1: Aw, come on man! Seriously….
Koopa #2: Well, at least we won the game. Do you think that’ll be enough to impress her?
Koopa #1: I doubt it. She was just getting over Wario, and the only reason she even went out with me was because I told her I was on the same team as Mario.
Koopa #3: Ouch. You should talk to her. Go for the sensitive turtle. She’ll love that.
Koopa #1: You think so? Okay… I’ll do the “spin-on-my-shell” trick. My last girlfriend thought that was adorable.
Koopa #2: Um… Maybe we should go back to my place?
Koopa #1: Why? I thought you guys said I shou-… Is that Mario?
Koopa #2: Maybe we should go ba-
Koopa #1: You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!!!! HE TAKES EVERYTHING FROM ME!!!!!!!
Koopa #3: Just calm down bro. It’ll be o-
Koopa #1: Gimme the ball.
Koopa #2: I don’t think that’s a goo-
Koopa #1: Give it.
Koopa #3: Just think this through… Don’t so something yo-
Koopa #2: Wow……………
Koopa #1: You should do a semester with Bowser…
Alien Disaster | May 9, 2014
Scientist: Welcome, everyone, to the Star Ship Design Conference of 3034. My name is Scientist, and I'll be your host for the remainder of the conference. We'd like to begin with one of the most revolutionary breakthroughs in modern control schemes since the joystick. It is my pleasure to present to you... *flings tarp*... 2 Button. 2 Button utilizes revolutionary design concepts to benefit every aspect of space combat. Allow me to run through the details. When a combat encounter is initialized, a Force Shield is launched to envelop both the combat ship and the enemy. Using the centrifugal Magne-Force Thruster technology from SSDC 3033, the combat ship is launched into the spherical focus maneuver dog-fighters already use to great effect. Except, because of the Magne-Force Thruster technology, the thrusters operate almost entirely on their own using the Force Shield as a guide. In addition to the thrusters, we've also automated the ship's laser arsenal, meaning the pilot can focus on directing the ship and leave the aiming to us. By combining these existing technologies, we've minimized the needlessly complex star ship control scheme down to 2 Buttons, hence the name. The first button reverses the Magne-Force Thrusters, thereby reversing the spherical flight. The second engages an additional set of thrusters for increased speed while simultaneously disengaging the lasers for more precise firing. We believe this will increase pilot accuracy, minimize the margin for mistakes, lower training times, and overall, improve our combat efficiency by over 204%! Now, are there any questions?
Investor: *raises hand*
Scientist: Yes, ma’am, go ahead.
Investor: Forgive me for simplifying things, but basically this technology locks the pilot in a bubble with the enemy, attaches their ship to the bubble, removes all forms of standard controls, and forces them to perilously skate in an easily predictable path along the bubble’s edge hoping the auto-firing cannons manage to hit their mark? And you want us to not only fund this research, but re-configure our already efficient combat fighters with this system, thereby requiring all of our veteran dog-fighters to undergo another round of training?
Scientist: …. Ahem…. Uhm…. Yes.
Scientist: Moving on!
Gran Turismo 5 | December 12, 2012
To Whom It May Concern, But Mainly the Guy in Front of Me:
You may have noticed that this race has been held an abnormal number of times in the past few days. On a separate note, I congratulate you on your successive victories, however you must be pondering the reason of this sudden outbreak of tournaments. I have the answer.
Over the past several races, I have been running a complex experiment. It begins with my car. It is a Corvette ZR-1 with full Racing Modifications, a Super Charger, and approximately everything possible to make it better. Its horsepower rivals that of the Millennium Falcon, its brakes could stop a train made of charging leopards, and the acceleration could kill a buffalo. Knowing this, I am concerned at the lack of beating-you it has done. This sparked an investigation into your vehicle.
I have searched through all of the available methods, and your car is nowhere to be found. I ruffled through the internet, and could not find mention of it there, however I did perform another investigation. According to several reputable sites, there are less than 10 cars in the world that have a better power-to-weight ratio than me, and your car is not among them. As you can imagine, this was very frustrating.
So, I am writing you this letter to inform you of these happenings, and to inquire of you certain questions:
1. Why, when I am riding the equivalent of a supernova, can I not seem to keep within sight of you during a race?
2. How, when traversing a 170-degree corner, do you manage to turn AND teleport your car without losing speed?
3. Are, referencing this Friday evening, you available for lunch?
Should you be available, I will meet you at the local diner. It is just off of the interstate before the track, just before you get to the gas station. Do not be alarmed if there are very few people there, as Friday is a holiday in which they all don’t-come-to-work or something. Also, should I enter with an ax, I apologize, as I am a volunteer fireman on the weekends, and I will likely be coming from work.
I look forward to seeing you,
The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings | November 16, 2012
“Hello, good sir. I would like to create this fantastic looking armor. The one I have has really gotten old and out of fashion. It has a hood with a tail for goodness sake.”
“Indeed it does. Do you have a design?”
“Ah yes, I have one right here. I retrieved it from the giant tentacle creature that was terrorizing your town a few moments ago. Turns out, he was a tailor, and dropped this while I was chopping off his limbs in sequential order.”
“Very good, sir. Lemme see here. You seem to have all of the impossibly rare ingredients. The only thing you’re missing is Robust Cloth.”
“But I have cloth right here.”
“No, that’s the regular cloth. This is Robust Cloth. It’s different.”
“In what way?”
“None discernible, but the adjective makes it more expensive.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Well I will purchase however much I need. I am really looking forward to my armor, and would like to have it as soon as possible.”
“I don’t have any for sale. You might try one of the other blacksmiths.”
“Hello, sir. Did you find any?”
“No, and I’ve asked the only other blacksmith in town. Your previous statement insinuated there were more, so I’ve spend far too long looking for others. Can you just use regular cloth? I have plenty of that.”
“No, sir, I’m afraid not. The design calls for Robust Cloth. Have you tried stealing it?”
“No. I have a feeling the locals would not appreciate a mutated, magic-wielding, dual-sword capable monster slayer rummaging through their things for an apparently expensive kind of cloth.”
“Ah, but you’re the Hero.”
“Oh…. Really? Be right back then.”
“NOBODY in either town has any. I’ve stolen enough firewood to torch a palace, and enough regular cloth to smother the fire. Are you POSITIVE you can’t use regular cloth?”
“Sorry, sir. Maybe another time.”
“Excuse me? I haven’t talked to you yet, which is strange because I speak with everyone. What is your name?”
“Ah, excellent. You might just be the man I’m looking for. I’m looking for Robust Cloth. Do you have any?”
“Not on me, but I do have a diagram for how to make some. It’s really not much different than regular cloth. You just have to know how to add in the adjective.”
“Excellent. Here is my entire coin purse. Please take whatever you need to purchase the necessary materials and get me Robust Cloth.”
“I’m a follower of the Gods of Irony. They dictate that it will cost roughly the same amount of coins you’re carrying.”
“I, too, am a follower. Take it.”
“Here’s your cloth, sir.”
“Hello, sir. Did you manage to find some?”
“Yes, I did. This has been entirely too much of a bother. I expected it to be easy to craft something. I don’t know what came over me. Can you make it?”
“Yessir. Just give me a moment.”
“Here you go, sir. I must say, it looks quite excellent on you. The red really accentuates the broken claw dripping fluids that you have on the hook there. It really does.”
“My hood has a tail…”
“Why yes, sir. That was why I needed the Robust Cloth.”
Prison Architect | October 27, 2014
Indie : Hello everyone, and welcome to the unveiling celebration for the Lotus Rehabilitation Center. I'd like to begin by thanking our generous sponsor -- Ceo. Please, a warm round of applause for Ceo. ... Lotus Rehabilitation Center maintains housing and amenities for 40 guests. We focus on forming lasting bonds between guests, Mother Earth, and the outside populous. As such, everything you see has been formed from natural materials purchased from local vendors, and crafted under meticulous scrutiny. However, LRC is not a place to be discussed, but experienced. Please, feel free to explore and do not hesitate to pose questions if you have them.
Warden: Hello, Indie?
Indie: Ah, hello Warden. How may I assist?
Warden: This’ll be my first time at the head of a hippy prison—
Indie: Rehabilitation Center.
Warden: Uh, yeah, whatever. But, don’t you think you should have something a little sturdier than wooden doors on the cells?
Indie: There’s no need. There will be no locks, so our guests will have no need for aggressive entry.
Warden: No locks?! Well how do you expect them to stay put?
Indie: Caging an animal does not aid in taming it. Here at LRC, we give our guests as much freedom as possible while maintaining a carefully controlled, positive environment. We believe this will promote community and comradery.
Warden: This’s going to be a bloodbath.
Indie: This is going to be revolutionary.
Accountant: Excuse me? Mr. Bard?
Indie: Please, call me Indie.
Accountant: Ooh, um, well… ahem… I… uh… I have some questions about the financing of this project. After arriving, I popped into my future office to take a look at the books, and the numbers I saw were… uh… troubling.
Indie: How might I ease your mind?
Accountant: Well, there was a $50,000 charge for landscaping the lawns surrounding the prison—
Indie: Rehabilitation Center.
Accountant: Right, sorry. There’s also a $50,000 charge for all-natural hardwood flooring throughout, an alarmingly expensive power grid, and your plans for the future? We can’t possibly—
Indie: Calm yourself. Everything here has been built under direct supervision from our sponsor, following his vision, and he has assured me that money is no obstacle. Your position here is to keep legal record of our transactions. Don’t concern yourself with troubling matters of budget control.
Accountant: Are you sure?
Indie : I am. Why don't you enjoy the punch? I brewed it with fruits from the local orchards, and-- if I do say so myself -- it's quite delicious.
Accountant: Oh… okay. Thanks.
Indie: Any time.
Ceo: Indie! Come here for a moment, would you?
Indie: How can I assist?
Ceo: Why don’t we take a walk over here for a moment, hmm? … Listen, we have a bit of a situation. I received a strongly-worded letter from the bank. If I don’t begin repayment on my loans in the next 24 hours, I’ll default and have to file bankruptcy.
Indie: You told me money wasn’t an issue!
Ceo: I didn’t think it was. The bank contract--
Indie: Went way over your head, apparently. Great. This is just great. I spent $50,000 on GRASS! Gah, what a bloody nightmare.
Ceo: What are we going to do?
Indie: We need investors. I invited several to the celebration, but I thought I’d have weeks to work them over. … sigh … Go with me on this. AHEM! Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention please? Our sponsor has just informed me that he is interested in additional investors for the Lotus Rehabilitation Center. Our public announcement is tomorrow, but as honored guests at LRC, you have first pick! Please leave your information with Accountant, and we will be sure to contact you.
Ceo: This is a terrible idea. The whole point of going through the bank was to avoid third parties. The whole lot are unreasonable pricks.
Indie: Yeah, well you kinda screwed us over on that front. I’m trying to salvage what I can. At $200,000 in the hole, you take what you can get.
Ceo: $200,000? What could you possibly have spent that on?
Indie: Important things. You wouldn’t understand.
Ceo: Please tell me it isn’t—
Indie: Symmetrical? It absolutely is, and I don’t want to hear a WORD about medication.
Nihilumbra | March 5, 2013
“You were born in the Void.”
“In the Void, there is no color.”
“… Except for Purple.”
“Purple is the color of the void.”
“Check. Moving on?”
“You are worthless.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? I’ve had a game made of me. That’s worth three dollars or so…”
“You are three dollars… Which isn’t very much.”
“Agreed. What’s with the flowers?”
“Flowers are full of color.”
“Touch the flower.”
“Now you will learn the power of color.”
"I... I already had pur- whatever. What do I do with it?"
“Color fills the world…”
“So… just sling it around? No brush or anything?”
“Color consumes you.”
“Well it’s not that fun, but okay. I’ll do some decorating. What now?”
“You are lifeless in death.”
“Without the color you are nothing.”
“But with it, you can save yourself.”
“… Color = good. Gotcha.”
“Prepare to run.”
“Okay… I’m ready.”
“… How about a casual stroll?”
“… Okay, I’ll head to the right then.”
“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THIS?!”
“Set fire to your enemies.”
“HOW?! They’re hiding under the controls!”
“Set fire to the controls.”
“You’re just making that up! I’ve tried.”
“The controls are worthless.”
“Agreed. What do I do about them?”
“YOU are worthless.”
“ALSO agreed, but that doesn’t help.”
“The Void is forever.”
“I DON’T CARE!!! HOW… do you BEAT… this PUZZLE?!?!”
“… Three dollars… is very much.”
Awesomenauts & DOTA 2 | June 10, 2013
Henrietta: Bruhmhilda! BRUHMHILDA!!! I have decided to brew… a GAME!
Henrietta: I have a particularly strong dosage in mind. One that’ll keep them coming back for years and years.
Henrietta: We’ll begin with a pound of raw, greasy multiplayer, rolled in online juices. Then, we add a dash of single player. Not too much… we wouldn’t want them playing ALONE now would we?
Henrietta: Okay. Now… Let’s go to the cupboard. Let’s have sooooome…. TURRETS. We’ll lace them with carbo-unob-titanium for strength and we’ll give them a creamy filling of douchebag AI.
Henrietta: Of course.
Henrietta: Okay. Now we’ll need a goal. Something large and obtrusive…. nearly impossible to protect completely, and we’ll throw those in on either side. Sprinkle them with the carbo-unob-titanium, but don’t do too much. Now, for the spices!!!
Henrietta: Progressive skills, bonuses, items, NPC enemies, differing paths, chat windows, and ALL THE CHARACTERS IN THE CUPBOARD!!!
Bruhmhilda : OOO- Wait.... What?
Henrietta: YES! Complexity! We’ll have unintelligible skill uses, meaningless statistics, misleading tutorials, strange item layouts, questionable experience bonuses, useless purchasable costumes, magical delivery men, walking journeys, and NERFING!!!
Bruhmhilda: Um… Do we NEED all that? I was thinking we could do a simple space theme with controllers…
Henrietta: CONTROLLERS? What is WRONG with you? We’ll use horrendously complex keybindings and you’ll like it!
Bruhmhilda: Can they at least move with WAS-
Henrietta: NO THEY CANNOT!!!
Henrietta: QUIET, YOU STUPID CAT!!!
Indie Bard Game Stories is a collection of 46 flash fiction video game parodies written between 2012 and 2015. Using light-hearted humor and serious introspection in turns, each story twists characters, settings, and plot points into new scenarios that enrich the game world or explore its unnoticed details. These stories are based on 32 games, ranging from popular AAA titles to obscure indie projects: 7 Grand Steps, Alien Disaster, Assassin’s Creed, Awesomenauts, The Binding of Isaac, Bounce Again, Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare, Darksiders, Dishonored, Divinity: Original Sin, Don’t Starve, DOTA 2, Ghost Host, Gran Turismo 5, Magicka, Nihilumbra, Perspective, Prison Architect, Rage, Ratchet & Clank, Realm of the Mad God, Ridiculous Fishing, SteamWorld: Dig, Super Mario Strikers, Text-Based Multiplayer Shooter, Tiny Death Star, Treasure Arena, Tribes: Ascend, Warframe, The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings, World of Warcraft, and X-COM: Enemy Unknown.