ISentinelPenguinI, The Journeyman Scrivener
One day I had a test, and the teacher farted, and then this kid bent over to pick up his pencil, and everyone was scared because they thought they heard a gunshot and there was a school shooting, but actually it was a deafeningly loud flatulence emitted from the kid who picked up his pencil, with such tremendous force and pressure that his pants had ripped open and were smoking. And everyone was laughing, but the kid was pissed.
He got up on his chair and screamed something like, "OH YOU THINK THAT'S FUCKING FUNNY DO YOU!?"
He grabbed one of the girls, and there were many gasps, "I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU ASSHOLES FUNNY!"
He shoved the girl out of the way, and took a massive shit on her desk. The class laughed, and even applauded. For the first 2 minutes, at least, but the kid would not stop shitting. Eventually it overloaded the desk and started to drop onto the floor. At 5 minutes, the giggles gave way to horrified screams. Worms and blood started to appear within the shit, and the oils of his eyes were diluting with lymph and starting to drip down his face.
10 minutes, and he was shitting this constant stream of worms like a faucet, they were pooling out underneath him and writhing over each other, burrowing into whatever they could find. The floor was too hard for them, but they found the girl's shoes. You could hear them chewing on everything they could find. They made little clicking noises wherever they bit on something, it was like dumping one bag of marbles into another... But then they found the girl's flesh underneath her shoes and socks, and boy howdy...
The worm hoard sort of swarmed her and started burrowing into whatever bits and bobs they could find. As they chewed, it sounded like those aforementioned marbles were being poured into a bowl of semi-hard jello. A thousand little splats in an orgy of blood and gluttony.
"CAERBOG PROVIDES!" Screamed the fart kid, "CAERBOG EXTRICATES!"
He just kept shitting worms and screaming about our glorious holy lord and savior Caerbog. Just sitting there. The worms turned to eyeballs all melted and grafted together, and the molten skin of his rectum slowly started dribbling down between his legs, but he just kept going. His real eyes were totally gone by this point, and actually his bare testicles were dangling out of one eyehole by their epidydimus, but what was even funnier was that a little horse fetus (Couldn't be more than two months) was desperately trying to escape from his head, but he was too big to fit through the eyeholes, so he just kept squealing and stamping impotently at the walls of his flesh prison.
Eventually, the eyes and the worms and the shit were creating this massive pool of shit that was ankle-deep over the floor of the room, and the girl being eaten by the worms was now a skeleton full of boreholes and tiny bitemarks. The class started really laughing their asses off as her jaw fell off, and one kid even fell out of his chair laughing and was devoured by worms, eyes-first.
The kid just kept on shitting. His legs had been worn down by worms into just nubs of flesh, so no one was surpised when the entire lower part of his torso burst open and started spraying eyeballs and bloody shit everywhere.
"CAERBOG PROVIDES! CAERBOG EXTRICATES! CAERBOG EXTRICAAAATES!" he screamed. More kids laughed themselves into the waist-deep pile of worms.
The teacher just stood on his desk with a look of utter disappointment on his face.
"Caerbog does not exist, you zealous religious faggot." Said the teacher, driving a knife into his belly as the holy purgative fires of Caerbog began biting into the flesh of his taint.
Long story short, the kid got a detention, and our sides fucking exploded that day. Even the fucked up skeleton whose desk he shat on was laughing. You can still hear her laughing if you put your ear to her grave. It's just underneath the floorboards of the basketball court.
It was so hilarious though. You had to be there for the full effect. He was just squatting over her desk with the same strained look on his face the whole time. I mean, while he could still squat and move his face, I guess.
If you came to this page in hopes of learning more about me, you're boning up the wrong tree.
this is a loosely satirical and somewhat more gamey version of the game that isn't really a game. thanks to the creative juices of Bardockwest. The ORIGINAL: http://chooseyourstory.com/story/randomly-walk
I discovered a thing that JJJ wrote. It told me all about this quiz-making shit. I followed the instructions, even though I disobeyed JJJ's opening lines by starting this WITHOUT a basic knowledge of any of that weird scripty shit he recommended. This was low-effort as all hell, don't ever use the classic editor for anything you care about.
AQIMFTBHOIA DLC: THE UPDATE DESCRIPTION
Since some of my questions contained outdated information and I needed to make sure everything was in working order, I unpublished this thing. Since I understand this to be something that generally fucks with ratings, I'm gonna add 5 more questions so you have more of a reason to rate it again. Also, every question now has a stupid answer. These are the ones that are so blatantly wrong/non-answers that they give you negative points... Some are better hidden than others. Aside from most of the endings being revamped, there are two new endings! One is for people who're spectacularly awful at quizzes, and the other is an ending for people who go off the beaten path... By being really bad at quizzes.
No, I will not add a thing at the end that shows your score. If you want to know your score, you have to dick-measure in the comments yourself. Drill Sergeant Nasty has always been an accurate barometer for how well you did, in my eyes.
In a strange world where World War I hasn't even happened yet, Law and order is the only accepted form of justice. Until NOW.
Enter Mild-Mannered Clifford T. Boot, 2nd class passenger on the world-famous vessel, the Titanic. Haunted by the shadows of his war-torn past, Clifford bought a ticket to the United States of America looking for a new life. But trouble always finds Clifford, and when an innocent widow and her child are kidnapped by a cult dedicated to resurrecting Napoleon, he has no choice but to return to his old ways and save them... Because for some motherfuckers, mass tragedy doesn't come soon enough.
Articles WrittenA Tutorial for Teachers
Recent PostsAce is dead on 2/25/2021 10:14:29 PM
Very, very greasy fingerprints.
Ace is dead on 2/25/2021 9:58:11 PM
RIP the foul-smelling legend.
Fat Men on 2/23/2021 12:39:52 AM
I'd try to convince the fat guy to take a few steps to the left so that when I push him, he can get hit after the 5 skinny people. It's their fault for fucking around on the tracks of a deadly rogue trolley. And it's the fat dude's fault for this being funny.
Oregon Trail just like you remember it on 2/20/2021 9:02:22 PM
Glad the van is already brown.
Oregon Trail just like you remember it on 2/20/2021 6:07:13 PM
I generally start working on the next one more or less right after the last one. I'm not sure I can stick to an actual schedule, because both of these posts were meant to come out the day before I posted them.
Oregon Trail just like you remember it on 2/20/2021 7:46:07 AM
So I know I said I'd actually be Let's Playing a game the other night. I actually forgot to do that, my bad. And, in all actuality, it'll be more of a "revisiting". You see, I did an LP like this a long time ago and it was pretty fun, but it's been a long time and most of the new members will be unfamiliar with it, so I decided I'd do a new one.
The game is, of course, the Oregon Trail.
Yes, you've played the Oregon Trail I'm sure. Everyone who's been to an elementary school computer lab from 1980something to 2009 has. Of course, back in my day, we did the "updated" version made in the 90s with medicine, foraging, and FMV, but that always felt a bit overwhelming to a kid. As somebody obessed with being thorough, a game that strongly implies you need to read through this entire manual on the 1860s time period in order to know what to do, that just wasn't my flavor. You get such a limitted time in the computer lab, and I didn't wanna spend it learning how to treat 8 diseases I didn't have supplies for.
There was a fun racing aspect to it, though, where the teacher said the first kid to reach Oregon would get 5 jolly ranchers, but nobody ever got that far because we didn't have enough computer lab days and ultimately Mrs. D was a fucking fraud. That being said, you really can't beat the simplicity of a quick game of the regular Oregon Trail, from back in the 80s. And there were a few little details that just seemed to make things more wild.
Anyway, I'm sure you all know the plot of Oregon Trail by now, but I'll transcribe the opening cutscene.
It all starts in the futuristic year of 2021, where an Elven Stockbroker named Mizal was typing busily away at her stocks machine, yelling at phones, keeping her dragon from getting entangled in the ticker tape, etc. when she heard a pounding on her office door. On the other side was a Penguinite, with wrinkled business clothes and his tie half undone.
"Sent, what the hell!? You don't work here!" Said Mizal.
"I do cocaine and yell at phones, I have all the qualifications to be a stock trader!" Said Sent.
"But you don't trade stocks!"
"I fail to see how that's relevant!" Sent said, "I didn't come to trade stocks!"
"Then why did you interrupt my highly important business activities!?"
"Mizal," Sent said, wiping crack off his beak dramatically, "I have a business proposition."
"This better be good."
"Remember that Time Machine I had that was retconned years ago?"
"I wasn't around back when you were this character."
"Well, I stole another one! Some alien hippies were using this camper van to travel through time and space."
"You committed a crime? How is that supposed to make money!?"
"Well, I'm sure you know, in the 1800s, money was worth 30 times as much as it is now!"
"How does that help us? The exchange rate on any money we bring back would be horrible!"
"That's just the thing. Back in the day, you could buy 30 times as much stuff! I bought a trailer, and we can use that to bring back everything we bought in the past, effectively tridecatoupling our money!"
"... Assuming you can sell all that?"
"People go apeshit for this stuff. You ever seen Antiques Roadshow?"
"I don't watch Public Television anymore, I'm a professional Capitalist now."
"Look, we just need your investment..."
"... How much money have you poured into this?"
"Well, my associates and I have been pretty excited so far. Cricket sold Corgi's Switch for $280, Malk threw in $100, and Dark threw in his life savings of 409..."
"Oh..." Mizal said, lifting her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose, "So you plan to go into the past with 400 dollars?"
"Or more, if you'd like to invest with us!"
Mizal eyed the birdman with suspicion, "What do you plan to do when you get to the past?"
"We'll be buying antiques, of course!... I mean, they won't be antiques yet, but they will be as soon as we get back, that'll multiply the value even further. It's practically like squaring the return on your investment!"
"Have you done your research on this?"
"No, but I know a lot about cowboys!"
"Look, I'll double your investment with 400 dollars of my own, but no more than that. And I'm coming with, I don't trust you yokels not to fuck it up."
"Oh, of course. All the investors get to come with!"
"I'm going to have to crowd into a camper van with all of you?"
"For a few days, at most!"
"Ugh, alright, it'll be bearable. For the stocks."
"FOR THE STONKS!"
And so, back in time they went. But not everything went smoothly. Before reaching the obligatory 88 miles per hour, one of the tires hit a rock, which sent them tumbling on a loop through time... Sent was the first to notice that certain parts of the dashboard screen had gone dark. Parts were missing.
"Mizal," Sentinel declared, "I have good news and bad news."
"You have what?"
"The bad news is, the Wormhole Module that allows the van to travel through time, uh... Fell out."
"What the fuck, Sent!? You've literally killed us all!"
"It's fine, it's fine, the aliens probably expected this to happen. I have a device that gives us the latitude and longitude coordinates of wherever it lands."
"You expected this?"
"It's 45.3364° N, 122.6050° W." Said Sent.
"That's Oregon City!" Cricket helpfully chirped.
"Where are we now?" Mizal asked.
Sent looked at the crooked road sign behind Mizal, which their bus had crashed into after plummetting out of the sky, "Uh... Independence Missouri?"
"Independence Missouri..." Mizal's voice dripped with seething rage.
"The C is backwards..."
"Sent, do you know how far Independence Missouri is from Oregon?"
"Well, pretty far I'd imagine. But hey, you've read more pioneer diaries than anybody in this van! This should be no problem!"
"Sentinel, if we don't get back to the present day, I'm going to bludgeon you to death with a cast iron pan."
"That's a not a constructive investor's attitude," Cricket chirped again, "We're only a fledgeling time travel company!"
Sentinel fearfully pointed up at Cricket's statement.
The sounds of someone waking up in the back of the van could be heard. Malk jumped out of the side door, with his hat on and his six shooters swinging, "WOOOEE! Are we in the 1860s yet?"
And so, the journey begins!
The rest of the adventure will of course be recorded in the diary of the Wagon Leader, Sentinel.
May 1th, 1848
Dear Diary, I swear this isn't a gay emotional thing, all the cool pioneers in the 1800s are doing it, and so I have to do it too if I want to keep up appearances. Anyway, with that out of the way, I may as well update you on what happened today.
Mizal pushed past us and immediately took all 4 hundred dollar bills. I didn't question it because, honestly, she should've had the money anyway. It's not like I'd know what to buy for a 2000 mile trip! She seems to have taken this news the hardest out of all of us, but to be fair, some of us are well-acclimated to these things. Cricket regularly has to drive 4 hours through the snow both ways to get to the hobby lobby where she buys food, and Dark lives in an adobe hut with no plumbing, so this wasn't the biggest change. Malk was disappointed that the South hadn't seceded yet, but came to terms with things quickly. When we learned it was 1848, he muttered something about how America still has "42 good years left", whatever that means. I'm not sure he was thinking about slavery.
We drove up to the general store, getting no shortage of bizarre looks from the Missourans. Some of them were dumbfounded by the strange rumbling machine we were travelling in, and others were mortified by the fact that a bunch of respectable-looking caucasians were letting a furry travel with them. Alas, such is the trouble with time periods like this. We are beset by prejudice on all sides.
Mizal had packed away just about everything she thought we needed for a long journey. Several hundred pounds of specially preserved food, a lot of different spare changes of clothes- But when I asked her where the cows were, she seemed confounded.
Silly elf, did she think this van ran on the power of friendship? Well, it does, in a way, but both our car (and cricket) are fueled by fresh dairy, so if we didn't bring any cows with us, we would surely perish. We settled on a herd of 8, just to be sure. I also convinced her to buy some fancy steam farming equipment from an eccentric inventor type, and scrapped it for parts, just so we'd have spares for the van. I'm sure setting back the advancement of agricultural technology in the South won't have any noticeable effects on the timeline. We also bought 200 bullets, because lord knows The West only gets more wild the further you go.
Our expenses totalled to 8 bovine friends - $160
300 lbs of food - $60
15 changes of clothes - $150
20 boxes of ammo - $40
Parts from a steam-powered combine - $90
Which leaves us with a bill of 500! Say, that still gives us 300 bucks to invest with when we get to Oregon! We're really not doing so bad. With all that packed up, we set off on our journey.
May 1th, 1848: ADDENDUM
God dammit. The instant I put my foot on the gas, SOMETHING had to fuck up irreparably. Ah well, I guess hearing his screams after running him over is better than travelling 8 miles and realizing we forgot him somewhere.
May 3rd, 1848
I've been informed that "I'm Gonna Be" by the Proclaimers is not an appropriate song to play on the radio at times like this.
May 4th, 1848
We made it to Kansas River Crossing, and in record time! Now that there's barely anything left worth celebrating on May the 4th, I think that it's as fine a day as ever to declare this RIVER CROSSING DAY! And hey, now that I'm here, it's officially a tradition over 100 years older than Star Wars! So there you go.
Mizal foolishly suggested spending some of our hard-earned investment money on a ferry to get our van across, but little did she know, I had already brought several hundred cans of Flex Seal to spray the underside of our van with. Never leave home without it! A couple of hours spent applying a fresh coat to our doors and undercarriage, and we were fit to float right over the river!
May 5th, 1848
A stranger came by to help us chip the flex seal off our door so we could get out, but when we opened it, we looked at the wagon behind us and found that he'd stolen all but 2 of our sets of clothing! What a prick. I considered turning the car around to hunt him down, but we decided speed was gonna be key here. It would suck if somebody found the time machine and broke it.
May 7th 1848
We reached Big Blue River Crossing, and we're tired. That despicable fashion bandit has really done a number on our group. We're tired of having to do laundry every day, and we're especially tired of Dark walking around naked all the time, so we tried to do some trading. I talked to all the other travellers who were holed up at this river, and it seems like they were all fresh out of spare clothes. But I did find a guy willing to trade us a new cow in exchange for 109 pounds of food! Now THAT'S a deal if I ever heard it. I gave him the food straight away.
... I now realize we only have 101 pounds of food left for the rest of this journey.
Ah well, I'll just prepare us to float across the river again and hope nobody notices!
May 9th, 1848
It's only 118 miles to Fort Kearney!... Only. It takes so long to drive when there aren't any fucking roads! I don't know how we're gonna get this damn thing to go over 88 miles again, short of driving it off a cliff. At least at the fort there'll probably be a place to buy some fucking clothes. Cricket also found a couple bushels of wild fruit on one of our rest stops, but I'm not sure if they're safe for mammals since I've only ever seen Cricket eat them.
Oh, shit, just realized we only have 86 pounds of food, not counting the possibly dangerous Cricketberries. I better spend today hunting so nobody gets mad at me.
May 10th, 1848
I saw that clothes-stealing motherfucker again! That despicable goblin was wearing 4 pairs of pants at the same time and chortling to himself like a bastard! Wasted 4 bullets trying to take him down, but he was too speedy. Now I've failed to solve our clothes situation AND our food situation. I simply can't return to the vehicle until I have something to bring back.
May 11th, 1848
I tracked a deer through the forest. I got the feeling he knew somebody was on his trail, and that hunch turned out to be correct. The deer was dispatched easily enough, but escaping the private defensive compound with his corpse was another matter. The encounter lasted 2 long hours, carrying the poor bastard over my shoulders as he bled out. I had to take down 6 of his bodyguards as they charged at me, I wasn't so lucky with the 7th.
I dropped the gun because my hands were so slick with blood, and then I dropped the deer because his henchman nearly gutted me with his charge. It was a barehanded fight to the death in the library, as each of us frantically grappled to reach the gun first. I eventually managed to get my footing- it was for a brief second, but it was just long enough to smash him over the head with a chair and snap off one of his antlers. He was dazed, but as he fell down, he turned to the gun... I dove after it, but it was too late- His hooves were already on the trigger. I was a fraction of a second away from death, but I remember waking up with my hand around that broken antler- And the pointy end stuck in his throat.
Unfortunately, this was all 5 miles away from the van, so I was forced to only take one deer back to the van with me. They had eaten all of cricket's berries by the time I came back, so there was much rejoicing!
May 12th, 1848
We rejoiced for all of 5 minutes before realizing that I had just made one of our 2 extra sets of clothes basically unusable. I also had to wash myself off with hand soap using just the sink for a few hours, forcing Malk to poop outside. Apparently, Dark didn't even know we had a toilet before today. At some point during the day, I stopped the van to investigate some weird noises. Turns out, it was a GIANT buffalo! We should really be all set on food for a while.
May 15th, 1848
Sweet mercy, we've finally arrived at FORT KEARNEY!
The locals were nice enough, but everything in Fort Kearney is more expensive than it should be. I guess supplies are scarce this far out in the wilderness. We bought 10 sets of clothing regardless, because the unsanitary horrors we've been forced to endure taught us the true necessity for clothes. Dark had gone feral by now and we couldn't get him to wear them again until it got cold.
We shared trail stories with the fort folks by the fire that night. They seemed a lot more worried about this trail stuff than we were- Not even in the responsible Mizal way. They said there were horrors out west. Things unheard of by science. That the west really did get wilder the further out you went. They weren't very specific about what that all entailed, though.
We only have 175 dollars left after all that shopping, but it should keep us held over until we get to Oregon. I mean, that's 5,000 bucks in today's money!
May 17th, 1848
I told Butterscotch not to play on the rocks, but they didn't listen! Now one of our cows is injured! 4 wheel drive really burns through milk, so I'm glad we already have 8 other cows to help us keep this van moving. It's still difficult trying to convince Mizal that our new friend was worth giving away half our food unnanounced and then disappearing for 2 days, but with the way Lola stepped up today, how could Mizal still be mad?
May 19th, 1848
All that flex seal really gummed up the works, I think. The van's axle had built up so much heat that when I looked under us to see why an entire back wheel snapped off, the metal was still glowing orange. We spent the whole day scraping the stuff off the bottom of the camper and I found a sturdy enough steel bar in our pile of scrap to fix it.
May 22st, 1848
Our food's getting low again, we only have 126 pounds of that giant buffalohock left. I'll have to go hunting again.
Today's outing resulted in failure. I shot a lot, but none of it was edible, it was just Indians.
May 23th, 1848
They keep attacking our wagon! Bastards. No matter how many atrocities we commit, they just keep trying to stop us from crossing this land!
One of them choked to death saying some gibberish about the Forbidden Lands, but I don't take much stock in it. He was probably just trying to psych us out.
May 25rd, 1848
Holy shit, I'm not even sure buffalo are supposed to get to this size! I thought it was freaky when that one buffalo chop was big enough to fill up most of the trailer, but a buffalo of this size... Is sort of bothersome. I've never seen a buffalo like this before.
May 26st, 1848
Here we are at Chimney Rock! This seems like a good place to rest awhile... The Buffalo seem to avoid this place.
For when CoG isn't faggy enough! on 2/20/2021 7:28:10 AM
She used to want to make money off of it- But a certain world-famous cuckold (or, at least his wife is world-famous.) made that so much more trouble than it was worth.
Hell on 2/19/2021 5:15:01 PM
That's what happens. You sniff too much flex glue, and all you see is martians.
DOS Games on 2/19/2021 4:41:58 AM
So, it's been cold out lately, and snowing. The house I live in is pretty old and leaky, and so certain rooms suck all the heat out of the place. Nothing quite makes me feel cozier, though, than curling up at my desk while it's snowing outside and indulging in some nostalgia for a time before I was born. Everyone was asleep, so I heated up some hot water in a pan for hot chocolate to not wake anybody up. I put on a second sweatshirt and sat my laptop down at the cool desk next to the window, so I could watch snow occassionally fly by in the darkness. This was the ideal setup for a good evening. Then I slapped in my earphones and hopped on a DOS game archival site for some magical adventures.
You'd be surprised what you can find on a DOS Program Website. The place I visited, classicreload.com, had some pretty interesting software. It wasn't just DOS games, there's a handful of SEGA Genesis games on there, and I played one about a jet-powered flying motorcycle speeding over the ocean and shooting robots for a handful of seconds before clicking on a suggestion called "Safe Opening Simulator". It wasn't really a game, but more of an instructional software type thing that I assume came with a manual full of useful information, and this game served as more of a quiz on what the material.
Essentially, you were supposed to identify everything about this safe, the model, manufacturer, the exact model number of the lock, the "hand" (I don't know, I had to guess. I probably would've known if I had the manual.) and basically all the things you see at the bottom of the page. Then you'd turn the dial around, either to listen for the combination, or in the case of the safe being broken, to diagnose what tools should be used. I'm sure this all sounds very dry and academic, and it is, but there are little tonal inconsistencies, these small things, weird artifacts of tongue-in-cheek showmanship and production, that make this feel ever so slightly like a game rather than a strictly informational software.
You'll notice it immediately upon starting up the program, in the form of a shrill, eternally looping 8-bit rendition of the entire James Bond Theme. (I said they were small things, not exactly subtle things.) Then, in the selection of tools you can use, I noticed "explosives" was a choice. Now, I know in some obscure circumstances, somebody might actually use explosives, so naturally I clicked on that to see if it was a choice, but of course, that was the wrong choice as clearly I had only forgotten the combination, and this didn't call for an explosive charge at all.
Instead of the encyclopedic explanation as to why I shouldn't have chosen explosives in this situation, or even as simple as the game giving me a "wrong" noise and making me make another choice, like all the other times I guessed wrong, something else happened. I actually got to watch a little animation of a black cartoon bomb going off and then the funeral march played. In my carelessness, I became just another headline in the weird local newspapers: "Milwaukee Man Forgets Combination to Safe, Collapses House with Dynamite"
Perhaps I'm just reading too much into silly rabbitholes, but the personality and humor of this little program made me want to know more. So I looked up the company that the game lists as its distributor. I didn't expect to find much, but, oddly enough, the company's actually still around!
It's a little sad that a lot of their software is gone so recently, they seemed like a very interesting online resource that I found too late. But I guess it's an interesting tidbit that they're still here. A lot of the distributors for games like these just straight up aren't around anymore! It would've been a mystery forever.
Though I'm sure you didn't come to a post like this just to hear me wax pedagogical about silly budget software from the late 80s. You clicked on the title to hear about games. And, oh man, do I have games to play. Before I get to my LP of the evening, I have a few games that I feel are owed a special shoutout. The first of which is Hoyle Card games.
It may not look like much. Especially not by the standards of today. It was a weird thing to play, even back when I was playing it. I know card games like Euchre, Klondike, and Gin Rummy aren't exactly the new hotness, but sometimes you can't go wrong with classics. Back in the IRC days, every once in a while a handful of us would use the game's hidden internet capabilities to play a few card games. This was in that kinda post-apocalypse zone after Xyzzy was nuked and before the advent of Cardcast, so this was one of the few games we could play together. Now that Cardcast is gone, it's all we have again. Here you can see Miz, Cricket, Dr. Brain, and I got together to play one last painstakingly slow game of Old Maid for old time's sake.
And I should give one more special mention to a dumb RPG I used to waste hours on in my school days on DOS archival sites, because it was one of the few actual proper video games you could find on unblocked sites that would run on your chromebook. I feel the mists of nostalgia wash over me just looking at this page.
Man, I'd always have such a whale of a time with this game in high school. Guiding my team of 4 adventurers through the most perilous journeys! It was primitive, by the standards of games I had played before at that age, but there was such good storytelling. Really made you feel heroic, y'know? I know what you're thinking. That opening cutscene might look pretty cliche by now, but back then, storytelling like this was very new! This was one of the first RPGs to use in-game cutscenes, and it would've been pretty revolutionary if the game caught on.
Now, I couldn't sit here and walk you through everything because it's a very big game, and I don't want to spoil the experience. But this was a moment I always loved, the Minnetarr was one of my favorite characters.
The Final Boss was pretty intimidating, and, in true 90s RPG fashion, the way to beat him was actually pretty obscure unless you went out of your way to buff your party until they were broken. Even then, he'd adapt to meet your level. I never really beat him before, and even though the internet has basically dissected every game at this point, this one is just obscure enough that the final boss is kind of urban legend territory. Nobody except dataminers have seen the final cutscene, and there are people out there who still insist that L?~~_??????O???????????????????R??^?`¯????????????D?????? ????¨¨??????????????O?????¯"¯????????W????????^??´??O?????"?????????C?~??????????????? is unbeatable.
For when CoG isn't faggy enough! on 2/19/2021 2:34:20 AM
Wow, I just don't think there's ever been a more disliked centrist in my lifetime. Literally nobody in this situation likes this post. The CoGites don't like it because half of them think they're above us, the tumblrites don't like it because they're irreparably triggered by both of us, and the Cystians don't like it because we're not known to stand down from anything. This is like, the most hilariously untimely call for unity by a political moderate in the face of ancient generational blood feuds since that political post ArchBroFerdinand1863 made before they banned him.