Pathos
01-27-2006, 06:13 PM
HANDS UP IF YOU HAVE EVER WANTED ANY OF THE FOLLOWING FROM ANY GOOD HOLLYWOOD MOVIE:
Succinct narrative construction
Subtle character interactions
Humanist science fiction with timeless relevance
A cool villain in black leather, built like a champ and sporting an out-of-control goatee
Stylistic, hyper-kinetic combat scenes that can only be described as reverent
Lots of naked, beautiful women dominating strange midget men!
If you raised your hand for any of those... then get the hell outta this thread, 'cause this is Part 4 of...
The Chronicles of GameMecca! ...Blurring the line between fantasy and stupidity!
Part 3's crappiness has gone unrivalled for far too many months, so in an act of radical script writing, below you'll find more of the same! In fact you'd probably derive far greater emotional investment from reaching the bonus stage of a bloody Mario Bros game (found in all good basements). This'll be more like sitting through a really bad role-playing session, with the climax being your own bewildered expression of "what the holy hell?!?"
Anyhoo, it's been a while since the last one (i've lost my "iner-net" for the foreseeable future), so here's a super-brief rundown of what's gone on thus far (click the links for the full thing):
PART 1: THE DARK AGE OF THE WORLD OF FINAL FANTASY GAMEMECCA (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showpost.php?p=606285&postcount=1)
We met our dashing leads, Sir Jiminator (a hero clumsy enough to warrant putting a handicap sticker on his horse), and his sidekick-come-irksome-narrative-device, Squire Pure Evil! A harmony of purpose, thought, and homo-eroticism, our unstable lads soon found themselves in the middle of a big spastic fight with a bar patron (a surly Sauron) before a scene stealing, HIGH PINGing bartender saved their pimply asses. Oh, and we had to sit through some weird flashback to a time where the Outlaws of Darkness (GameMecca's resident cult) ruled all the earth. I would explain more of the plot but there isn't any.
PART 2: ONCE UPON A TIME IN AN OUTLAWS GAY BAR (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showthread.php?t=71023)
Our dynamic duo spent time in Sirc's bovine theatre (lucky bastards) before battling the forces of Spike (now calling himself ROBOT FIST... long story) and Shogun's big gay bar. There they discovered purpose in their lives in the form of the SD... The Seriously Lost Treasure of GameMecca 3D! But not before some MERCs showed up to haul Execution away (on suspicion of not liking Part 1) to King SAL and Castle MERC. Oh, and towards the end i sorta implied that Jim sexually abused his squire... how the hell did i get away with that one? Who's moderating this crap? Uh, it's not me, is it... ?
PART 3: SIR JIMINATOR & THE FOREST OF VILLAINS (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showpost.php?p=613633&postcount=1)
On the way to seeking out the SD, Jim and Pure headed for the secrets of Castle MERC, but instead found the entire Villains clan barring their way. Fortunately, several timely natural disasters substituted ably for bravery and competency, and Jim managed to win the day without so much as breaking a sweat or well-manicured nail! (Hey, it could happen - don't blame the author!) Jiminator celebrated by setting his fool mullet hair alight with his pocket mirror...
READ ON!
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THE CHRONICLES OF GAMEMECCA
PART IV: SIR JIMINATOR & PURE EVIL VS... RODZILLA!
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Mere days after their ludicrous run in with the Villains, Jiminator (now bald) and Pure Evil find themselves in the depths of the SERIOUSLY SWAMPS. Needless to say, it's generally unpleasant.
JIMINATOR: How much longer till we're outta this bloody swamp?
PURE EVIL (squinting into the distance): If you're carrying any epic novels, now would be the time to crack them open.
JIMINATOR: Stupid author. Why can't we ever go someplace nice?
PURE EVIL: Hey, at least we're out of the forest...
JIMINATOR: Yeah. Hakuna frikkin' Matata.
(They trudge through mud and bat mosquitoes away)
PURE EVIL: Christ, it's more humid than a church pew on Sunday.
JIMINATOR: No kidding. I feel like I've fallen into raw sewerage.
PURE EVIL: Yeah, and you've got the horse, you bastard!
(The muck is up to Pure Evil's neck. Jiminator points at him and laughs)
PURE EVIL: Hey, what's that up ahead?
JIMINATOR (squinting): It looks like... like... oh.
PURE EVIL: What is it? Another plot device?
JIMINATOR: Now, this may be the heat or another repressed fantasy talking, but to me that looks an awful lot like... a small boy!
PURE EVIL: In a swamp? Alone?
(As they near, they note that it is indeed a tiny boy. Oddly, the lad is neither clothed nor naked. Instead he appears to be composed entirely of, well...)
PURE EVIL: Seaweed!? Tell me that's not SEAWEED?
JIMINATOR: Eck! And me with a good wet dream brewing!
We cut across to the child. Living tendrils of moist SEAWEED coil slowly across the boy's face and body like a small intestine come to life. Noticing the presence of our gagging heroes, the kid stares in their direction a moment, then abruptly lurches forward like a figure from a Japanese horror movie.
JIMINATOR: Just when you thought it was safe to trudge through a fetid swamp!
PURE EVIL: I don't like the looks of this...
JIMINATOR: Agreed. Best leave the talking to me.
PURE EVIL: Something about that equation just isn't adding up...
JIMINATOR: Just relax and find yourself a shady spot. I got this!
PURE EVIL: For the record, i really, really hate it when you say that...
(Jiminator turns to the strange swamp boy and raises his arms wide)
JIMINATOR: Greetings... Mr Icky Pants! Aren't you the cute little cuddle monkey!? What did you do to merit a face like that? Didn't your mother ever tell you: Drowning... bad!
PURE EVIL: We're dead.
RODZILLA: I am Rodzilla, sacred keeper of the Seriously Swamps!
JIMINATOR: That's really great, good luck with that. Now, seriously dude, can we stay focused here? You're like the single most disgusting thing i have ever seen, and I've been to an OUTLAWS Gay Bar!
RODZILLA (spreading his seaweed-y arms wide): You may go no further until you have successfully answered... THE GREAT QUESTION!
JIMINATOR: HAH! Or what? You'll cry and call us names? You disfigured kids crack me up. Always with the pranks. Pure, throw some rocks at this tool, would you? Sheesh.
PURE EVIL: Boss, watch out! He's---
(Moving with otherworldly speed, Rodzilla is suddenly standing before Sir Jim! He raises but a single, slithery hand and grabs Jiminator by the face, lifting him high off the ground)
PURE EVIL: Huh. Would ya look at that! Not bad for a little fella.
JIMINATOR: Argh! Let go you brat! Let go of my face or i'm gonna lick your hand, I swear it!
(Jiminator begins madly licking. Getting no reaction and gagging at the aftertaste, he instead raises his clenched fists high and brings them crashing down on Rodzilla's head. Rodzilla barely seems to notice. He smiles calmly up at the red faced Knight)
JIMINATOR: Uh, you're supposed to fall down now.
RODZILLA: Why do you resist? You must see it's futile?
JIMINATOR: You're the villain, I'm the hero. It's this whole wacky tradition thing.
(Rodzilla drops Sir Jim)
RODZILLA: I like you. You're funny.
(Jim grunts, grits his chattering teeth and crawls feebly back to Pure Evil)
JIMINATOR (panting): Whew. Okay, I think it's time to reassess the situation.
PURE EVIL: As a successful Knight, you continue to impress...
JIMINATOR: Pure, now's SO not the time!
(Jiminator stands on shaking legs and turns to Rodzilla)
JIMINATOR: Hey, listen man, i totally understand what's wrong. I feel your pain, really i do. See, it's a long story, but I had a little seaweed stuck in my shoe once, and it drove me absolutely CRAZ---
RODZILLA: Failure to correctly answer THE GREAT QUESTION will result in instant death.
JIMINATOR: Mr. Pointy here says different.
(Jiminator moves to draw his sword... but his hand finds an empty scabbard! He looks around frantically)
JIMINATOR: Oh no... not again.
RODZILLA: Lose something?
(Jiminator looks up to see his blade in Rodzilla's small, seaweedy hand)
PURE EVIL: Woah! How'd he DO that?
JIMINATOR: Aww yuck man, put it down! You're, like, totally ruining the finish!
(Rodzilla slowly raises the sword and levels it at Jim's spindly neck)
PURE EVIL: See this kinda situation right here is why i don't carry weapons.
JIMINATOR: Bad sword! No pointing at your master! Bad, bad sword!
RODZILLA: Your bravery is admirable, if a little annoying.
JIMINATOR (jumping up and down): Come onnnnn, give it back or i'll tell!
PURE EVIL: You know, Jim, not speaking would be a really good look for you.
RODZILLA: Aaaand THE GREAT QUESTION iiiiiis......
JIMINATOR (covering his ears): No! NotAnsweringCan'tMakeMe!
RODZILLA: .....Do either of you know the way outta this bloody swamp?
(Pure Evil blinks)
PURE EVIL: Huh?
RODZILLA: Out. Swamp. Way. Which?
PURE EVIL: No, i mean... that's it? That's the great question?
RODZILLA: Yep.
PURE EVIL: Umm, ok.
RODZILLA: Look, pal, you think i like this bloody swamp? You think i'm here by choice? Navigation is hardly my strong point, and this place is playing complete havoc with my social life. Well, that and the whole seaweed thing...
PURE EVIL: Yeah, go figure.
RODZILLA: Chicks just don't seem to dig the slimy and slithery look, nor my clever "sacred keeper" charade. Who'd-a-thunk-it!
(Jiminator meanwhile is cowering behind a tree. Pure Evil motions him over)
JIMINATOR: Oh sh1t. Oh no. Ohjesusgod!
PURE EVIL: What? What is it? Calm down!
JIMINATOR (quietly): I...i don't know the answer!
PURE EVIL: Oh for pity's--- look, it's cool! We're cool here. [to ROD] We're cool, right?
RODZILLA: Yes... provided you know the answer.
(Jiminator screams)
PURE EVIL (rolling his eyes): Ignore him. Look, head back the way we came. Jim fell over a lot so you should have no trouble following our tracks. Be sure to turn when you get to the big sign reading, "Turn Here." That'll get you to the Forest of VILLAINS. Watch out for natural disasters, though...
RODZILLA: Gotcha! Thanks, fellas - I owe you one. I'll tell all my seaweedy friends about you. Especially you, the funny bald one.
JIMINATOR: Don't do me no favours, swampy.
RODZILLA: Here, i believe this is yours.
(Rodzilla tosses Jiminator his sword. Jim cries out in panic and let's it fall)
RODZILLA (chuckling): You crack me up.
JIMINATOR: Yeah, you just laugh it up. It's the smiles in life that keep us going. The bits of giggles and good cheer... BEOTCH!!!
(Jim flips him off, drops his pants and moons him. Rodzilla turns, winks back with one last laugh, and lurches slowly away. Pure Evil quietly watches him go)
JIMINATOR (glancing down his pants): Ecch-- i have seaweed in places I'd rather not discuss...
PURE EVIL: Yes... you handled that well.
JIMINATOR (removing a busted rib): I've had worse beatings.
PURE EVIL: I really wouldn't brag about that.
JIMINATOR: Hey, I had that disfigured mutation under control until he resorted to fisticuffs!
PURE EVIL: The only disfigured mutation i see is that haircut.
JIMINATOR (picking up his sword): Pure, I think SOMEONE'S forgetting their place...
(In moments they trudge on, with Pure Evil sporting a new look in the shape of a huge, jagged "now i know my place" scar along his forehead)
JIMINATOR: There's something different about you... [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Shut up.
JIMINATOR: Oh, say, nice scar. Is that new? [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Shut up! Just shut the hell up!
JIMINATOR: Do they make an ointment for that? [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Argh! Are we on the schoolyard here?! Just leave me the hell alone! I'm having serious sidekick issues.
JIMINATOR: All right, all right! But just so you know, if this partnership is to continue to thrive, my buoyant good will falling on your deaf ears is something we'll need to keep a closer eye on in the future.
(They march on, ignoring the fetid, slimy mud-water and merciless heat, content in the knowledge that they will soon be rich beyond the wildest dreams of several men and at least one woman)
They suddenly step onto dry land. They stand there in something of an anticlimax.
JIMINATOR: Well, we made it. We're through the swamp.
PURE EVIL: Wasn't so bad.
JIMINATOR (still picking fist sized wads of seaweed out of his pants): No... not at all. I'll treasure the memory.
(Forest once again surrounds them. Pure Evil peers into the dense foliage and considers)
PURE EVIL: So where exactly are we?
JIMINATOR: Must you ask that bloody question every bloody episode? Seriously, have you ever been a sidekick and not uttered those damn words??
PURE EVIL: We're lost, aren't we?
JIMINATOR: Of course we're not lost! I just... i just haven't pinpointed exactly where we are at this precise moment.
PURE EVIL: Uh huh. Say, here's a crazy idea! How about we get to higher ground so i can climb a tree or something? That way, i could scout our location while you put the pieces of your brain back together to form something we can use, like perhaps a rudimentary soccer ball for my own personal entertai--
(CRACK! Pure is kicked hard in the spine for his insolence)
PURE EVIL (mildly crippled): Ow.
JIMINATOR: Fine, so i'm a little lost. Big freakin' deal! You'd find a way to complain about a blowjob from Jessica Alba.
(They push on through the thick forest. A few long, prickly hours later they stumble upon a clearing. In the center stands a rickety old house. Dour black drapes hang at every window. The house is surrounded by a high wooden fence with sharp, pointed stakes on top. They fail to notice the winged monkeys massing high overhead)
Our decrepit duo approach the fence. There is a huge sign pinned to it, with a dire message printed in what appears to be blood... but which Jiminator mistakes for red crayon.
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TRESPASSERS WILL BE SUBJECT TO FACILE
CIRCUMLOCUTION WHILE BEING MADE TO EAT
THEIR OWN SPLEEN. THEY WILL THEN DISCUSS
HOW THAT MAKES THEM FEEL IN RELATION TO
THEIR OWN EXISTENCE
FONDEST REGARDS,
DEATH ENGINEER
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PURE EVIL: We must be getting close. I mean, Death Engineer's a MERC, right?
JIMINATOR: Was a MERC. Was. King SAL had him jailed. He escaped. Word is he since fell in with a bad crowd. General Dark Psi has put a bounty out on his hands...
PURE EVIL: His hands?
JIMINATOR: He kept writing "It's 'tongue', NOT 'tounge'!" on everything.
PURE EVIL: Hmmm. Look, this is a real stroke of luck. You're a Knight, and there's a reward waiting for us in there. Plus, it's the perfect opportunity to ask for directions. Not that you don't know where we are. But couldn't hurt to, you know, get a second opinion.
(Jiminator considers this for a moment)
JIMINATOR: Okay, here's the plan: We'll barge in there, chop off Death Engineer's hands, get some directions i don't need, hurry over to CASTLE MERC, collect our reward, slap KING SAL around until he spills the location of the lost treasure, find and steal said treasure, become rich and famous, get really fat and drugf!ucked, then die horribly in pools of our own vomit.
PURE EVIL: Huh. You really narrowed that down. Good to hear we'll spend our entire lives as losers. Most people just turn out that way, but not us! Oh no, we're taking charge!! So tell me, fellow loser, how are we getting over the big fence with the large pointy bits?
JIMINATOR: I'm glad you asked!
(Jiminator grabs Pure Evil and heaves him onto the fence. Using Pure as a human blanket Jim heroically climbs over. He lands with a soft, MacGyver-like thud on the other side)
JIMINATOR: There. Easy. Good work, sidekick! You can come down now.
PURE EVIL: Ugh! I-I can't... my body is.. UGH!... pierced right through in several places and... eerrrrgh! [dribble] ...and my blood seems to be forming a swimming pool for the ants on the ground below... uurrrgh...
JIMINATOR: Oh, that's it, hold me back as usual! Me, me, me, that’s all I ever get from you, you selfish bastard! I'm gonna teach you a lesson, yep. I'm gonna leave you hanging there. See how you like THAT!
(Jiminator walks off toward the house, mumbling under his breath)
PURE EVIL: Haha, funny, funny man! Hehe... you can come back now, boss, it was a funny joke! Hahaha! Err... c'mon, Jim, let me down! Uhh... boss? BOSS? BOOOOOOOOOOOOSS!
JIMINATOR: Booss? Booze?
(Jim laughs at his clever jape and enters the house)
Inside, he finds himself in a vastly different universe. The room is decorated with psychedelic posters of 60s & 70s art (or at least, the medieval equivalent). Soft light emanates from numerous, scented candles. Jiminator figures if he ever moves out of home, he'll live in a place like this! Death Engineer sits in a comfy chair in the middle of the room. He is smiling to himself with a stoned expression on his face. Jiminator draws his sword.
(Death Engineer notices Jiminator standing there. He points at him and claps happily. Jiminator pauses awkwardly)
DEATH ENGINEER: Hey man!
JIMINATOR: Erm, hi.
DEATH ENGINEER: How are you?
JIMINATOR: Fine. Uh... you?
DEATH ENGINEER: Good. Great! You like our digs, man??
JIMINATOR: I guess. The candles are nice.
DEATH ENGINEER: We render them from the fat of our enemies. [giggles] Hey! I don't know you, do I?
JIMINATOR: Umm no, and right now i'm thinking that's a good thing. Now, if you'll just allow me to sever your hands, I'll be off before you can say TOUNGE.
DEATH ENGINEER: Geeze man, I'd love to help you out, but...
(Death Engineer holds up his arms: at the end there are two stumps. Death Engineer has no hands!)
JIMINATOR: Ahh, crap. This is what I get for listening to sidekicks!
DEATH ENGINEER: Tell me man, do you ever wonder if reality is just like this huge bowl of custard?
JIMINATOR: Err, not really, no.
DEATH ENGINEER: A custard in which all us little people are swimming around in? And the custard, like, *engulfs* us?! And yet... yet it's somehow possible to escape from the custard bowl *into* a bowl of some other substance... Such as porridge, say....
JIMINATOR: That's nice. I'll go now.
DEATH ENGINEER: Oh my GOD! Imagine if someone *ate* the porridge! Whoooaaa!
(Death Engineer's eyes go vacant as his mind spirals into itself. At that moment, Burn the Witch walks in. He is in a heated discussion with Sirc)
BURN THE WITCH: ... and the next time a client stiffs you on that theatre fee, Sirc, you're to take our cut from somewhere below their waistline, capeesh? Now i want---
(He notices Jiminator staring)
JIMINATOR: Welcome to my nightmare.
BURN THE WITCH: The f!uck are you?
JIMINATOR: Why, I'm the noble Sir Jiminator, fabled Knight of the Sort-of-Round Table! Do you want a pose? No? You've haven't heard of me then? Well, i'm working on that. I-- waitaminute! The white makeup... the black lipstick and nails... the slight overbite... the greasy hair... i-i know you folks! You're... [his eyes widen] Good god! You're The Great Goffs of GameMecca!!!
(Jiminator starts shaking uncontrollably, a bit of piddle seeping its way slowly down his leg)
DEATH ENGINEER: He's either a little frightened or in the final stages of terminal, chronic constipation.
(Sirc crouches and eyes Jim like he was eyeing a super-sized snow cone)
SIRC: I love it when they shake... it raises the hair on my testicles.
BURN THE WITCH: An erotically drawn stick figure would raise the hair on your testicles.
SIRC (gasping): You've been reading my diary!
BURN THE WITCH: Hey, with a title like "Sexual Predator" it's hard not to peek! Look, just behave yourself for the moment. No touching in special places without my say so. [turning to Sir Jim] Now, what do you want, freak? Speak quickly. I'm a busy goff with lots more minions to threaten, and my time is money.
DEATH ENGINEER: Actually, time is the non-spatial continuum in which events occur linearly, usually in the direction of increased entropy.
BURN THE WITCH: Enough of that, stumpy. I'm trying to work here, and your incomprehensible waffle is undermining my badass-ness.
DEATH ENGINEER: Ain't waffle! More of a purposeful loaf. Undisciplined but pretty rambling.
BURN THE WITCH: Yeah. Ooookay! Thanks for clearing that up. You know, DE, straight or not, if I ever wrap my mind around anything you say, I half expect someone to hand me a post-graduate degree in existential philosophy. [steps up to Jim] Now look, Sir Knight, i don't like you, and i'm beginning to get annoyed with this entire scene, so talk quick before I turn you into a gerbil and let Sirc here molest you.
SIRC: Heck, no need to turn him into a gerbil...
JIMINATOR (talking quickly): Oh Great Goffs of GameMecca, i have battled through the cursed Forest of VILLAINS, defeated the horrors of the Seriously Swamps, and even managed a narrow escape from a gay OUTLAWS bar with my heterosexuality mostly intact! All this i achieved despite my lousy, wise-cracking sidekick offering little to no fanfare and almost no dramatic music! And thus i stand before you now, and ask... but for simple directions!
(Jim falls to his knees grovelling and wailing. Burn the Witch stares thoughtfully at him a moment, then sighs and turns to Sirc)
BURN THE WITCH: See, I *told* you. "$300 for 3000 acres?" I said. "There's got to be a catch!" Aww, Christ - it's two months journey to a Real Estate Agent from here!
SIRC: Yes, this is all your fault.
BURN THE WITCH: What did you just say?! I'm in charge here, how can it possibly be my fault?
SIRC: Because otherwise it would be mine!
(*TOK!* Burn the Witch smacks Sirc to the ground)
SIRC (face down, his voice muffled): You got a mean streak in you, do you know that?
BURN THE WITCH: Would everyone PLEASE shut their wise ass traps or i'll have all your sexual organs removed via enraged fire ants!
DEATH ENGINEER: Hey! I had a dream where that happened once! Wasn't as bad as you might think... [giggle]
JIMINATOR: Umm, hello? Why do i get the feeling you guys haven't had your shots? This must be what going crazy looks like. You know, if you want counseling, there's this bartender i know...
(They all stare at Jim...)
JIMINATOR: Umm, that was just a little joke. [gulps] Look, really, i just want directions. Oh, and Death Engineer's hands, but they seem to be kinda not there...
DEATH ENGINEER: One of Dark Psi's bounty hunters cut them off. It was either that or be dragged back to Castle MERC and reduced to GUEST USER account class! [sob] That cruel, cruel, King SAL! When will he ease up on us poor citizens of GameMecca?!
BURN THE WITCH: This gonna be another tissue moment, DE? Because as fun as your Pity Parties are, I really wish you'd warn me befor-- hey, where's he gone?
(The open front door swings slowly in the breeze. Jiminator, it seems, has made a run for it!)
BURN THE WITCH: Huh. Perhaps it was something i said?
SIRC (mumbling into the floor): Perhaps it's everything you're saying...
BURN THE WITCH: Sirc, i'm beginning to think we're not friends...
(Twitch raises a steel-capped boot. Sirc screams. Death Engineer, so high he may never have to walk again, begins clawing his own face like a tabby on crack. We cut to the outside of the house, and find Jiminator bolting for freedom. He quickly reaches Pure, who is still attached to the barbed-wire fence)
PURE EVIL: Sir!? I... I'm touched! You came back for me!
JIMINATOR: Uh, yeah. A lapse of sound judgment I'll regret for the rest of my life. Now hold still.
PURE EVIL: You're freeing me? Finall-- URK!
(Again using Pure as a human blanket, Jim climbs back over the fence)
JIMINATOR: Come on. Quit hangin' about. We're outta here! Nothing to see in there. Just your standard issue Goffs with an overly feminine hair obsession.
PURE EVIL: Goffs... way out here? But that could only mean... [his eyes widen] The Great Goffs of Ga--
JIMINATOR: Yeah, yeah. Aside from the receding hairlines, they weren't so scary... they just dress bad. Now get down from there so you can help me celebrate my close call.
PURE EVIL: Actually, I'd rather stay. See, as i dropped in and out of hallucinatory consciousness just now, i had a cool dream about you and a guillotin--
(Jim forcibly yanks his squire off the fence. Pure Evil, with almost all his vital organs pierced clean through, is now holier than Jesus Christ)
PURE EVIL (bleeding all over himself): Durrrr... [dribble]
JIMINATOR: Butch up, Pure! The lessons we learn from pain are the ones which make us the strongest!
PURE EVIL: G...got... any... band aids?
JIMINATOR: Hold on.
(Jim bends and peels a dirty, puss covered band aid from his knee and hands it to his Squire)
PURE EVIL: Wow. A used band aid just for me. I'm the luckiest sidekick ever!
JIMINATOR: Oh quit bitching like an old girlfriend. You'll be back to pretty boy soon enough. It's not like i kicked your dog.
PURE EVIL: No, you just threw me on a pointy wooden fence knowing full well that I'm a haemophiliac!!
JIMINATOR: Hey, i came back for you, didn't I? I could have run from that freakazoid house in dramatic slow motion by myself, like Van Damme would, but no, i decided to share the experience with a loved one. With you!
PURE EVIL: But... look at me! I'm bleeding enough to feed a small family of vampires. I'm telling you, if I ever snap and go on a killing spree, it's moments like these that will trigger it!
JIMINATOR: Yeah well, count yourself lucky; in a deleted scene, you were even pregnant! Listen, my naive young plot pawn, what you're not seeing here is the big picture. You have to understand that your scenes of blood and torture are welcome and necessary to keep our readers grounded in some form of human feeling. Without it our whole adventure turns into little more than a big comic book of literary chaos and imagined Dolby Digital assaults!
PURE EVIL: Well when do *I* get to be in charge then?
JIMINATOR: When your teeth sparkle like mine! Now get moving already. This place is gonna blow!
PURE EVIL: What? No it's not!
JIMINATOR: Ok... well, could we blow it up then? 'cause i really wanna say that line!
PURE EVIL: No, and that's final!
JIMINATOR (sighing): Call me old fashioned, but i like explosions at the end of my movies...
PURE EVIL: I really, really believe that. So where to now exactly? Castle MERC?
JIMINATOR: Indeed.
PURE EVIL: Care to lead the way?
JIMINATOR: Absolutely.
PURE EVIL: Forward and onward?!
JIMINATOR: Undeniably.
PURE EVIL: On we go then?!
JIMINATOR: Verily!
PURE EVIL: Hmm...
JIMINATOR: Err...
(They pause)
JIMINATOR: Do you get the feeling there's no real point to this part? Like it's just padding until the episode ends?
PURE EVIL: Nah! If that was the case there would be lots of pointless dialogue...
JIMINATOR: Ya think?
PURE EVIL: Yup.
JIMINATOR: Really?
PURE EVIL: Uh huh.
(Another pause)
JIMINATOR: Get the f!uck on with it, Pathos, you douche bag!
(Jiminator suddenly finds his lips nailed to the ground)
PURE EVIL: Boy, that was dumb.
JIMINATOR: I'b bewwy bewwy sowwy, phatos, and I'b nebba do i' agaim! Pwomis!
(A claw hammer appears and painfully extracts the nails from Jiminator's mouth)
JIMINATOR: Thank you. I just love these little "why me" moments. Now, which way to the MERCs?
(They notice a sign with a giant arrow reading "This Way to Castle MERC Dumbass")
JIMINATOR: There, now he's making himself useful...
TO BE CONTINUED!
UP NEXT: Sir Jiminator continuing to be a lunatic... Time travel... Execution in a cage... King SAL mugging for the camera... Dark Psi's killer guard dog... and more MERCs than you can shake a large erection at! If that ain't a party, i don't know what is! All this, plus Jim's new squire? Will that finally pave the way for some NEW jokes? Do you really need me to answer that?
In short, we'll dance on the precipice of the abyss of blandness, and the GameMecca world as you know it will be... well, exactly the same as it was before! WOW!!!
See y'all in a few... months! Warn the moderator. [slow motion queen wave]
-P
The Chronicles of GameMecca.... lowering the bar month after bloody month!
Succinct narrative construction
Subtle character interactions
Humanist science fiction with timeless relevance
A cool villain in black leather, built like a champ and sporting an out-of-control goatee
Stylistic, hyper-kinetic combat scenes that can only be described as reverent
Lots of naked, beautiful women dominating strange midget men!
If you raised your hand for any of those... then get the hell outta this thread, 'cause this is Part 4 of...
The Chronicles of GameMecca! ...Blurring the line between fantasy and stupidity!
Part 3's crappiness has gone unrivalled for far too many months, so in an act of radical script writing, below you'll find more of the same! In fact you'd probably derive far greater emotional investment from reaching the bonus stage of a bloody Mario Bros game (found in all good basements). This'll be more like sitting through a really bad role-playing session, with the climax being your own bewildered expression of "what the holy hell?!?"
Anyhoo, it's been a while since the last one (i've lost my "iner-net" for the foreseeable future), so here's a super-brief rundown of what's gone on thus far (click the links for the full thing):
PART 1: THE DARK AGE OF THE WORLD OF FINAL FANTASY GAMEMECCA (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showpost.php?p=606285&postcount=1)
We met our dashing leads, Sir Jiminator (a hero clumsy enough to warrant putting a handicap sticker on his horse), and his sidekick-come-irksome-narrative-device, Squire Pure Evil! A harmony of purpose, thought, and homo-eroticism, our unstable lads soon found themselves in the middle of a big spastic fight with a bar patron (a surly Sauron) before a scene stealing, HIGH PINGing bartender saved their pimply asses. Oh, and we had to sit through some weird flashback to a time where the Outlaws of Darkness (GameMecca's resident cult) ruled all the earth. I would explain more of the plot but there isn't any.
PART 2: ONCE UPON A TIME IN AN OUTLAWS GAY BAR (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showthread.php?t=71023)
Our dynamic duo spent time in Sirc's bovine theatre (lucky bastards) before battling the forces of Spike (now calling himself ROBOT FIST... long story) and Shogun's big gay bar. There they discovered purpose in their lives in the form of the SD... The Seriously Lost Treasure of GameMecca 3D! But not before some MERCs showed up to haul Execution away (on suspicion of not liking Part 1) to King SAL and Castle MERC. Oh, and towards the end i sorta implied that Jim sexually abused his squire... how the hell did i get away with that one? Who's moderating this crap? Uh, it's not me, is it... ?
PART 3: SIR JIMINATOR & THE FOREST OF VILLAINS (http://www.gamemecca.net/forums/showpost.php?p=613633&postcount=1)
On the way to seeking out the SD, Jim and Pure headed for the secrets of Castle MERC, but instead found the entire Villains clan barring their way. Fortunately, several timely natural disasters substituted ably for bravery and competency, and Jim managed to win the day without so much as breaking a sweat or well-manicured nail! (Hey, it could happen - don't blame the author!) Jiminator celebrated by setting his fool mullet hair alight with his pocket mirror...
READ ON!
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THE CHRONICLES OF GAMEMECCA
PART IV: SIR JIMINATOR & PURE EVIL VS... RODZILLA!
================================================== ======
Mere days after their ludicrous run in with the Villains, Jiminator (now bald) and Pure Evil find themselves in the depths of the SERIOUSLY SWAMPS. Needless to say, it's generally unpleasant.
JIMINATOR: How much longer till we're outta this bloody swamp?
PURE EVIL (squinting into the distance): If you're carrying any epic novels, now would be the time to crack them open.
JIMINATOR: Stupid author. Why can't we ever go someplace nice?
PURE EVIL: Hey, at least we're out of the forest...
JIMINATOR: Yeah. Hakuna frikkin' Matata.
(They trudge through mud and bat mosquitoes away)
PURE EVIL: Christ, it's more humid than a church pew on Sunday.
JIMINATOR: No kidding. I feel like I've fallen into raw sewerage.
PURE EVIL: Yeah, and you've got the horse, you bastard!
(The muck is up to Pure Evil's neck. Jiminator points at him and laughs)
PURE EVIL: Hey, what's that up ahead?
JIMINATOR (squinting): It looks like... like... oh.
PURE EVIL: What is it? Another plot device?
JIMINATOR: Now, this may be the heat or another repressed fantasy talking, but to me that looks an awful lot like... a small boy!
PURE EVIL: In a swamp? Alone?
(As they near, they note that it is indeed a tiny boy. Oddly, the lad is neither clothed nor naked. Instead he appears to be composed entirely of, well...)
PURE EVIL: Seaweed!? Tell me that's not SEAWEED?
JIMINATOR: Eck! And me with a good wet dream brewing!
We cut across to the child. Living tendrils of moist SEAWEED coil slowly across the boy's face and body like a small intestine come to life. Noticing the presence of our gagging heroes, the kid stares in their direction a moment, then abruptly lurches forward like a figure from a Japanese horror movie.
JIMINATOR: Just when you thought it was safe to trudge through a fetid swamp!
PURE EVIL: I don't like the looks of this...
JIMINATOR: Agreed. Best leave the talking to me.
PURE EVIL: Something about that equation just isn't adding up...
JIMINATOR: Just relax and find yourself a shady spot. I got this!
PURE EVIL: For the record, i really, really hate it when you say that...
(Jiminator turns to the strange swamp boy and raises his arms wide)
JIMINATOR: Greetings... Mr Icky Pants! Aren't you the cute little cuddle monkey!? What did you do to merit a face like that? Didn't your mother ever tell you: Drowning... bad!
PURE EVIL: We're dead.
RODZILLA: I am Rodzilla, sacred keeper of the Seriously Swamps!
JIMINATOR: That's really great, good luck with that. Now, seriously dude, can we stay focused here? You're like the single most disgusting thing i have ever seen, and I've been to an OUTLAWS Gay Bar!
RODZILLA (spreading his seaweed-y arms wide): You may go no further until you have successfully answered... THE GREAT QUESTION!
JIMINATOR: HAH! Or what? You'll cry and call us names? You disfigured kids crack me up. Always with the pranks. Pure, throw some rocks at this tool, would you? Sheesh.
PURE EVIL: Boss, watch out! He's---
(Moving with otherworldly speed, Rodzilla is suddenly standing before Sir Jim! He raises but a single, slithery hand and grabs Jiminator by the face, lifting him high off the ground)
PURE EVIL: Huh. Would ya look at that! Not bad for a little fella.
JIMINATOR: Argh! Let go you brat! Let go of my face or i'm gonna lick your hand, I swear it!
(Jiminator begins madly licking. Getting no reaction and gagging at the aftertaste, he instead raises his clenched fists high and brings them crashing down on Rodzilla's head. Rodzilla barely seems to notice. He smiles calmly up at the red faced Knight)
JIMINATOR: Uh, you're supposed to fall down now.
RODZILLA: Why do you resist? You must see it's futile?
JIMINATOR: You're the villain, I'm the hero. It's this whole wacky tradition thing.
(Rodzilla drops Sir Jim)
RODZILLA: I like you. You're funny.
(Jim grunts, grits his chattering teeth and crawls feebly back to Pure Evil)
JIMINATOR (panting): Whew. Okay, I think it's time to reassess the situation.
PURE EVIL: As a successful Knight, you continue to impress...
JIMINATOR: Pure, now's SO not the time!
(Jiminator stands on shaking legs and turns to Rodzilla)
JIMINATOR: Hey, listen man, i totally understand what's wrong. I feel your pain, really i do. See, it's a long story, but I had a little seaweed stuck in my shoe once, and it drove me absolutely CRAZ---
RODZILLA: Failure to correctly answer THE GREAT QUESTION will result in instant death.
JIMINATOR: Mr. Pointy here says different.
(Jiminator moves to draw his sword... but his hand finds an empty scabbard! He looks around frantically)
JIMINATOR: Oh no... not again.
RODZILLA: Lose something?
(Jiminator looks up to see his blade in Rodzilla's small, seaweedy hand)
PURE EVIL: Woah! How'd he DO that?
JIMINATOR: Aww yuck man, put it down! You're, like, totally ruining the finish!
(Rodzilla slowly raises the sword and levels it at Jim's spindly neck)
PURE EVIL: See this kinda situation right here is why i don't carry weapons.
JIMINATOR: Bad sword! No pointing at your master! Bad, bad sword!
RODZILLA: Your bravery is admirable, if a little annoying.
JIMINATOR (jumping up and down): Come onnnnn, give it back or i'll tell!
PURE EVIL: You know, Jim, not speaking would be a really good look for you.
RODZILLA: Aaaand THE GREAT QUESTION iiiiiis......
JIMINATOR (covering his ears): No! NotAnsweringCan'tMakeMe!
RODZILLA: .....Do either of you know the way outta this bloody swamp?
(Pure Evil blinks)
PURE EVIL: Huh?
RODZILLA: Out. Swamp. Way. Which?
PURE EVIL: No, i mean... that's it? That's the great question?
RODZILLA: Yep.
PURE EVIL: Umm, ok.
RODZILLA: Look, pal, you think i like this bloody swamp? You think i'm here by choice? Navigation is hardly my strong point, and this place is playing complete havoc with my social life. Well, that and the whole seaweed thing...
PURE EVIL: Yeah, go figure.
RODZILLA: Chicks just don't seem to dig the slimy and slithery look, nor my clever "sacred keeper" charade. Who'd-a-thunk-it!
(Jiminator meanwhile is cowering behind a tree. Pure Evil motions him over)
JIMINATOR: Oh sh1t. Oh no. Ohjesusgod!
PURE EVIL: What? What is it? Calm down!
JIMINATOR (quietly): I...i don't know the answer!
PURE EVIL: Oh for pity's--- look, it's cool! We're cool here. [to ROD] We're cool, right?
RODZILLA: Yes... provided you know the answer.
(Jiminator screams)
PURE EVIL (rolling his eyes): Ignore him. Look, head back the way we came. Jim fell over a lot so you should have no trouble following our tracks. Be sure to turn when you get to the big sign reading, "Turn Here." That'll get you to the Forest of VILLAINS. Watch out for natural disasters, though...
RODZILLA: Gotcha! Thanks, fellas - I owe you one. I'll tell all my seaweedy friends about you. Especially you, the funny bald one.
JIMINATOR: Don't do me no favours, swampy.
RODZILLA: Here, i believe this is yours.
(Rodzilla tosses Jiminator his sword. Jim cries out in panic and let's it fall)
RODZILLA (chuckling): You crack me up.
JIMINATOR: Yeah, you just laugh it up. It's the smiles in life that keep us going. The bits of giggles and good cheer... BEOTCH!!!
(Jim flips him off, drops his pants and moons him. Rodzilla turns, winks back with one last laugh, and lurches slowly away. Pure Evil quietly watches him go)
JIMINATOR (glancing down his pants): Ecch-- i have seaweed in places I'd rather not discuss...
PURE EVIL: Yes... you handled that well.
JIMINATOR (removing a busted rib): I've had worse beatings.
PURE EVIL: I really wouldn't brag about that.
JIMINATOR: Hey, I had that disfigured mutation under control until he resorted to fisticuffs!
PURE EVIL: The only disfigured mutation i see is that haircut.
JIMINATOR (picking up his sword): Pure, I think SOMEONE'S forgetting their place...
(In moments they trudge on, with Pure Evil sporting a new look in the shape of a huge, jagged "now i know my place" scar along his forehead)
JIMINATOR: There's something different about you... [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Shut up.
JIMINATOR: Oh, say, nice scar. Is that new? [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Shut up! Just shut the hell up!
JIMINATOR: Do they make an ointment for that? [snicker]
PURE EVIL: Argh! Are we on the schoolyard here?! Just leave me the hell alone! I'm having serious sidekick issues.
JIMINATOR: All right, all right! But just so you know, if this partnership is to continue to thrive, my buoyant good will falling on your deaf ears is something we'll need to keep a closer eye on in the future.
(They march on, ignoring the fetid, slimy mud-water and merciless heat, content in the knowledge that they will soon be rich beyond the wildest dreams of several men and at least one woman)
They suddenly step onto dry land. They stand there in something of an anticlimax.
JIMINATOR: Well, we made it. We're through the swamp.
PURE EVIL: Wasn't so bad.
JIMINATOR (still picking fist sized wads of seaweed out of his pants): No... not at all. I'll treasure the memory.
(Forest once again surrounds them. Pure Evil peers into the dense foliage and considers)
PURE EVIL: So where exactly are we?
JIMINATOR: Must you ask that bloody question every bloody episode? Seriously, have you ever been a sidekick and not uttered those damn words??
PURE EVIL: We're lost, aren't we?
JIMINATOR: Of course we're not lost! I just... i just haven't pinpointed exactly where we are at this precise moment.
PURE EVIL: Uh huh. Say, here's a crazy idea! How about we get to higher ground so i can climb a tree or something? That way, i could scout our location while you put the pieces of your brain back together to form something we can use, like perhaps a rudimentary soccer ball for my own personal entertai--
(CRACK! Pure is kicked hard in the spine for his insolence)
PURE EVIL (mildly crippled): Ow.
JIMINATOR: Fine, so i'm a little lost. Big freakin' deal! You'd find a way to complain about a blowjob from Jessica Alba.
(They push on through the thick forest. A few long, prickly hours later they stumble upon a clearing. In the center stands a rickety old house. Dour black drapes hang at every window. The house is surrounded by a high wooden fence with sharp, pointed stakes on top. They fail to notice the winged monkeys massing high overhead)
Our decrepit duo approach the fence. There is a huge sign pinned to it, with a dire message printed in what appears to be blood... but which Jiminator mistakes for red crayon.
================================================
TRESPASSERS WILL BE SUBJECT TO FACILE
CIRCUMLOCUTION WHILE BEING MADE TO EAT
THEIR OWN SPLEEN. THEY WILL THEN DISCUSS
HOW THAT MAKES THEM FEEL IN RELATION TO
THEIR OWN EXISTENCE
FONDEST REGARDS,
DEATH ENGINEER
================================================
PURE EVIL: We must be getting close. I mean, Death Engineer's a MERC, right?
JIMINATOR: Was a MERC. Was. King SAL had him jailed. He escaped. Word is he since fell in with a bad crowd. General Dark Psi has put a bounty out on his hands...
PURE EVIL: His hands?
JIMINATOR: He kept writing "It's 'tongue', NOT 'tounge'!" on everything.
PURE EVIL: Hmmm. Look, this is a real stroke of luck. You're a Knight, and there's a reward waiting for us in there. Plus, it's the perfect opportunity to ask for directions. Not that you don't know where we are. But couldn't hurt to, you know, get a second opinion.
(Jiminator considers this for a moment)
JIMINATOR: Okay, here's the plan: We'll barge in there, chop off Death Engineer's hands, get some directions i don't need, hurry over to CASTLE MERC, collect our reward, slap KING SAL around until he spills the location of the lost treasure, find and steal said treasure, become rich and famous, get really fat and drugf!ucked, then die horribly in pools of our own vomit.
PURE EVIL: Huh. You really narrowed that down. Good to hear we'll spend our entire lives as losers. Most people just turn out that way, but not us! Oh no, we're taking charge!! So tell me, fellow loser, how are we getting over the big fence with the large pointy bits?
JIMINATOR: I'm glad you asked!
(Jiminator grabs Pure Evil and heaves him onto the fence. Using Pure as a human blanket Jim heroically climbs over. He lands with a soft, MacGyver-like thud on the other side)
JIMINATOR: There. Easy. Good work, sidekick! You can come down now.
PURE EVIL: Ugh! I-I can't... my body is.. UGH!... pierced right through in several places and... eerrrrgh! [dribble] ...and my blood seems to be forming a swimming pool for the ants on the ground below... uurrrgh...
JIMINATOR: Oh, that's it, hold me back as usual! Me, me, me, that’s all I ever get from you, you selfish bastard! I'm gonna teach you a lesson, yep. I'm gonna leave you hanging there. See how you like THAT!
(Jiminator walks off toward the house, mumbling under his breath)
PURE EVIL: Haha, funny, funny man! Hehe... you can come back now, boss, it was a funny joke! Hahaha! Err... c'mon, Jim, let me down! Uhh... boss? BOSS? BOOOOOOOOOOOOSS!
JIMINATOR: Booss? Booze?
(Jim laughs at his clever jape and enters the house)
Inside, he finds himself in a vastly different universe. The room is decorated with psychedelic posters of 60s & 70s art (or at least, the medieval equivalent). Soft light emanates from numerous, scented candles. Jiminator figures if he ever moves out of home, he'll live in a place like this! Death Engineer sits in a comfy chair in the middle of the room. He is smiling to himself with a stoned expression on his face. Jiminator draws his sword.
(Death Engineer notices Jiminator standing there. He points at him and claps happily. Jiminator pauses awkwardly)
DEATH ENGINEER: Hey man!
JIMINATOR: Erm, hi.
DEATH ENGINEER: How are you?
JIMINATOR: Fine. Uh... you?
DEATH ENGINEER: Good. Great! You like our digs, man??
JIMINATOR: I guess. The candles are nice.
DEATH ENGINEER: We render them from the fat of our enemies. [giggles] Hey! I don't know you, do I?
JIMINATOR: Umm no, and right now i'm thinking that's a good thing. Now, if you'll just allow me to sever your hands, I'll be off before you can say TOUNGE.
DEATH ENGINEER: Geeze man, I'd love to help you out, but...
(Death Engineer holds up his arms: at the end there are two stumps. Death Engineer has no hands!)
JIMINATOR: Ahh, crap. This is what I get for listening to sidekicks!
DEATH ENGINEER: Tell me man, do you ever wonder if reality is just like this huge bowl of custard?
JIMINATOR: Err, not really, no.
DEATH ENGINEER: A custard in which all us little people are swimming around in? And the custard, like, *engulfs* us?! And yet... yet it's somehow possible to escape from the custard bowl *into* a bowl of some other substance... Such as porridge, say....
JIMINATOR: That's nice. I'll go now.
DEATH ENGINEER: Oh my GOD! Imagine if someone *ate* the porridge! Whoooaaa!
(Death Engineer's eyes go vacant as his mind spirals into itself. At that moment, Burn the Witch walks in. He is in a heated discussion with Sirc)
BURN THE WITCH: ... and the next time a client stiffs you on that theatre fee, Sirc, you're to take our cut from somewhere below their waistline, capeesh? Now i want---
(He notices Jiminator staring)
JIMINATOR: Welcome to my nightmare.
BURN THE WITCH: The f!uck are you?
JIMINATOR: Why, I'm the noble Sir Jiminator, fabled Knight of the Sort-of-Round Table! Do you want a pose? No? You've haven't heard of me then? Well, i'm working on that. I-- waitaminute! The white makeup... the black lipstick and nails... the slight overbite... the greasy hair... i-i know you folks! You're... [his eyes widen] Good god! You're The Great Goffs of GameMecca!!!
(Jiminator starts shaking uncontrollably, a bit of piddle seeping its way slowly down his leg)
DEATH ENGINEER: He's either a little frightened or in the final stages of terminal, chronic constipation.
(Sirc crouches and eyes Jim like he was eyeing a super-sized snow cone)
SIRC: I love it when they shake... it raises the hair on my testicles.
BURN THE WITCH: An erotically drawn stick figure would raise the hair on your testicles.
SIRC (gasping): You've been reading my diary!
BURN THE WITCH: Hey, with a title like "Sexual Predator" it's hard not to peek! Look, just behave yourself for the moment. No touching in special places without my say so. [turning to Sir Jim] Now, what do you want, freak? Speak quickly. I'm a busy goff with lots more minions to threaten, and my time is money.
DEATH ENGINEER: Actually, time is the non-spatial continuum in which events occur linearly, usually in the direction of increased entropy.
BURN THE WITCH: Enough of that, stumpy. I'm trying to work here, and your incomprehensible waffle is undermining my badass-ness.
DEATH ENGINEER: Ain't waffle! More of a purposeful loaf. Undisciplined but pretty rambling.
BURN THE WITCH: Yeah. Ooookay! Thanks for clearing that up. You know, DE, straight or not, if I ever wrap my mind around anything you say, I half expect someone to hand me a post-graduate degree in existential philosophy. [steps up to Jim] Now look, Sir Knight, i don't like you, and i'm beginning to get annoyed with this entire scene, so talk quick before I turn you into a gerbil and let Sirc here molest you.
SIRC: Heck, no need to turn him into a gerbil...
JIMINATOR (talking quickly): Oh Great Goffs of GameMecca, i have battled through the cursed Forest of VILLAINS, defeated the horrors of the Seriously Swamps, and even managed a narrow escape from a gay OUTLAWS bar with my heterosexuality mostly intact! All this i achieved despite my lousy, wise-cracking sidekick offering little to no fanfare and almost no dramatic music! And thus i stand before you now, and ask... but for simple directions!
(Jim falls to his knees grovelling and wailing. Burn the Witch stares thoughtfully at him a moment, then sighs and turns to Sirc)
BURN THE WITCH: See, I *told* you. "$300 for 3000 acres?" I said. "There's got to be a catch!" Aww, Christ - it's two months journey to a Real Estate Agent from here!
SIRC: Yes, this is all your fault.
BURN THE WITCH: What did you just say?! I'm in charge here, how can it possibly be my fault?
SIRC: Because otherwise it would be mine!
(*TOK!* Burn the Witch smacks Sirc to the ground)
SIRC (face down, his voice muffled): You got a mean streak in you, do you know that?
BURN THE WITCH: Would everyone PLEASE shut their wise ass traps or i'll have all your sexual organs removed via enraged fire ants!
DEATH ENGINEER: Hey! I had a dream where that happened once! Wasn't as bad as you might think... [giggle]
JIMINATOR: Umm, hello? Why do i get the feeling you guys haven't had your shots? This must be what going crazy looks like. You know, if you want counseling, there's this bartender i know...
(They all stare at Jim...)
JIMINATOR: Umm, that was just a little joke. [gulps] Look, really, i just want directions. Oh, and Death Engineer's hands, but they seem to be kinda not there...
DEATH ENGINEER: One of Dark Psi's bounty hunters cut them off. It was either that or be dragged back to Castle MERC and reduced to GUEST USER account class! [sob] That cruel, cruel, King SAL! When will he ease up on us poor citizens of GameMecca?!
BURN THE WITCH: This gonna be another tissue moment, DE? Because as fun as your Pity Parties are, I really wish you'd warn me befor-- hey, where's he gone?
(The open front door swings slowly in the breeze. Jiminator, it seems, has made a run for it!)
BURN THE WITCH: Huh. Perhaps it was something i said?
SIRC (mumbling into the floor): Perhaps it's everything you're saying...
BURN THE WITCH: Sirc, i'm beginning to think we're not friends...
(Twitch raises a steel-capped boot. Sirc screams. Death Engineer, so high he may never have to walk again, begins clawing his own face like a tabby on crack. We cut to the outside of the house, and find Jiminator bolting for freedom. He quickly reaches Pure, who is still attached to the barbed-wire fence)
PURE EVIL: Sir!? I... I'm touched! You came back for me!
JIMINATOR: Uh, yeah. A lapse of sound judgment I'll regret for the rest of my life. Now hold still.
PURE EVIL: You're freeing me? Finall-- URK!
(Again using Pure as a human blanket, Jim climbs back over the fence)
JIMINATOR: Come on. Quit hangin' about. We're outta here! Nothing to see in there. Just your standard issue Goffs with an overly feminine hair obsession.
PURE EVIL: Goffs... way out here? But that could only mean... [his eyes widen] The Great Goffs of Ga--
JIMINATOR: Yeah, yeah. Aside from the receding hairlines, they weren't so scary... they just dress bad. Now get down from there so you can help me celebrate my close call.
PURE EVIL: Actually, I'd rather stay. See, as i dropped in and out of hallucinatory consciousness just now, i had a cool dream about you and a guillotin--
(Jim forcibly yanks his squire off the fence. Pure Evil, with almost all his vital organs pierced clean through, is now holier than Jesus Christ)
PURE EVIL (bleeding all over himself): Durrrr... [dribble]
JIMINATOR: Butch up, Pure! The lessons we learn from pain are the ones which make us the strongest!
PURE EVIL: G...got... any... band aids?
JIMINATOR: Hold on.
(Jim bends and peels a dirty, puss covered band aid from his knee and hands it to his Squire)
PURE EVIL: Wow. A used band aid just for me. I'm the luckiest sidekick ever!
JIMINATOR: Oh quit bitching like an old girlfriend. You'll be back to pretty boy soon enough. It's not like i kicked your dog.
PURE EVIL: No, you just threw me on a pointy wooden fence knowing full well that I'm a haemophiliac!!
JIMINATOR: Hey, i came back for you, didn't I? I could have run from that freakazoid house in dramatic slow motion by myself, like Van Damme would, but no, i decided to share the experience with a loved one. With you!
PURE EVIL: But... look at me! I'm bleeding enough to feed a small family of vampires. I'm telling you, if I ever snap and go on a killing spree, it's moments like these that will trigger it!
JIMINATOR: Yeah well, count yourself lucky; in a deleted scene, you were even pregnant! Listen, my naive young plot pawn, what you're not seeing here is the big picture. You have to understand that your scenes of blood and torture are welcome and necessary to keep our readers grounded in some form of human feeling. Without it our whole adventure turns into little more than a big comic book of literary chaos and imagined Dolby Digital assaults!
PURE EVIL: Well when do *I* get to be in charge then?
JIMINATOR: When your teeth sparkle like mine! Now get moving already. This place is gonna blow!
PURE EVIL: What? No it's not!
JIMINATOR: Ok... well, could we blow it up then? 'cause i really wanna say that line!
PURE EVIL: No, and that's final!
JIMINATOR (sighing): Call me old fashioned, but i like explosions at the end of my movies...
PURE EVIL: I really, really believe that. So where to now exactly? Castle MERC?
JIMINATOR: Indeed.
PURE EVIL: Care to lead the way?
JIMINATOR: Absolutely.
PURE EVIL: Forward and onward?!
JIMINATOR: Undeniably.
PURE EVIL: On we go then?!
JIMINATOR: Verily!
PURE EVIL: Hmm...
JIMINATOR: Err...
(They pause)
JIMINATOR: Do you get the feeling there's no real point to this part? Like it's just padding until the episode ends?
PURE EVIL: Nah! If that was the case there would be lots of pointless dialogue...
JIMINATOR: Ya think?
PURE EVIL: Yup.
JIMINATOR: Really?
PURE EVIL: Uh huh.
(Another pause)
JIMINATOR: Get the f!uck on with it, Pathos, you douche bag!
(Jiminator suddenly finds his lips nailed to the ground)
PURE EVIL: Boy, that was dumb.
JIMINATOR: I'b bewwy bewwy sowwy, phatos, and I'b nebba do i' agaim! Pwomis!
(A claw hammer appears and painfully extracts the nails from Jiminator's mouth)
JIMINATOR: Thank you. I just love these little "why me" moments. Now, which way to the MERCs?
(They notice a sign with a giant arrow reading "This Way to Castle MERC Dumbass")
JIMINATOR: There, now he's making himself useful...
TO BE CONTINUED!
UP NEXT: Sir Jiminator continuing to be a lunatic... Time travel... Execution in a cage... King SAL mugging for the camera... Dark Psi's killer guard dog... and more MERCs than you can shake a large erection at! If that ain't a party, i don't know what is! All this, plus Jim's new squire? Will that finally pave the way for some NEW jokes? Do you really need me to answer that?
In short, we'll dance on the precipice of the abyss of blandness, and the GameMecca world as you know it will be... well, exactly the same as it was before! WOW!!!
See y'all in a few... months! Warn the moderator. [slow motion queen wave]
-P
The Chronicles of GameMecca.... lowering the bar month after bloody month!