Team Estrogen emerges from the circuit room, icky girl parts now tastefully covered. They head to their next thrilling destination, the screen with Doofus and Dingus. One of the soldiers from the missile room — I’m guessing either Sephiroth or George — pops in and asks, “Hey, could you lend us a hand? The power’s down and we need some help.” For the record, there’s enough power for the numerous lights in the area as well as the mysterious console. But whatever — this is just an excuse to get Doofus and Dingus offscreen so the girls can fuck around with said console. But oh shit! Just as they approach the whatever-it-is, a generic soldier pops out of the missile room. “Hey! You! Haven’t seen you around before…” he tards. Wait, is this some new soldier? Selphie has talked to every one we’ve encountered so far, none of whom even mentioned that they didn’t recognize the chicks. So what gives? It’s possible that this guard, who is meeting these three for the first time, is the genius of the base and has the unique ability of recalling people he’s met. His new name is Einstein.

ANOTHER FUCKING CHOICE pops up for Selphie. It’s not that these constant multiple choice questions are that much of a pain to play through, but boy are they excruciating to recap. Just so I keep things in perspective, it’s still better than recapping Oldbag on the witness stand. Twice. It’s still better than recapping Rinhoa making everything about her. Calm thoughts. Calm thoughts. Selphie decides once again to “Play it cool,” as running away might come across as a tiny bit suspicious, even for these dunces. As part of her continued cover, she must now help the guys in the missile room. On their way in, Einstein bitches, “Unbelievable… Power failure at a crucial time like this? What the heck are the maintenance guys doing…?” Standing around staring at phallic weapons or wanking it over a railing, if previous encounters are any indication.

Inside the missile room, a new schlongerrific (I’m trying to find new and creative alternatives to “phallic”) launcher stands proud and erect in the center of the room. Two guys stand with their hands firmly planted at the base of the launcher, grunting and straining as they move against it. Another guy stands next to it, leering at them. If Doofus and Dingus are the two rubbing their hands all over the big, throbbing launcher and Einstein is the pervy voyeur, then where the heck are Sephiroth and George? But wait, when “Einstein” speaks, his title is “Maintenance Soldier” not “Guard” as it was in the last scene. Who the fuck is this then?! If I’m going to make up fake names and motivations for NPCs, I need to know their whereabouts at all times, damn it! I know this is just nitpicking and the game designers just threw NPCs around here and there without any thought to consistency, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t point it out.

Anyway, it should go without saying that the girls are needed for their help in moving the launcher to its proper location, a nearby depression in the floor. Yes, that means that the three ladies and two men must guide the phallus into a hole. It goes in balls base-first, which kind of ruins my analogy, but I’m still going to giggle over here. I mean, I have to rhythmically press the square button (complete with rhythmic sound effects) and everything.

I saw a porno like this once.

With this essential and demanding task out of the way, Einstein or whoever gives the three girls permission to use the “control panel” to confirm the coordinates. Even though he didn’t recognize them two minutes ago, he’s now trusting them with something that sensitive? Is launcher-pushing a new form of trust exercise? Also, I love how these tasks always require all three “soldiers.” It made sense for moving the heavy launcher, but does it really take three soldiers to deliver a message? Or confirm coordinates? Now that I think about it, given the average IQ of the base’s soldiers, it probably does take three of them to perform these no-brainers.

Back at the control panel, Rinhoa, inevitably displaying her useless side once more, screeches, “Does anyone know how to work this?!” Both Quistis and Selphie want to smash it up, but then Selphie, in an astonishing moment of insight, considers the possibility that destroying the panel might accidentally launch the missiles. “So, should we hold back a little and just mess around with it a bit?” Selphie wonders in our out-of-context lesbian innuendo for the day.

Sadly, dicking around with the control panel is the most interesting part of this playthrough, but still not all that interesting to recap. The game designers tried to make it look like a believable computer system, complete with login sequence, although the 3D bevel effect on the login dialog and the menu options are no longer the state-of-the-art graphic design they were in the late ’90s. The controls are not rocket science, to the point that the girls manage to figure it out all on their own, without any smart boys to help them. Unfortunately for them, the system won’t allow the peon who originally owned the ID card to change the final target, though they can still set the error ratio. Currently set to MINIMUM, they can increase it all the way to MAXIMUM. Now, I’m no military genius, but I’m pretty sure I just set the missiles to be less accurate in their targeting. If I’m right, why would this even be a plausible option? Why would these boneheads want their missiles to, well, miss? On top of that, what is “MAXIMUM” anyway? Is it a .0001% chance of missing the target? 50% chance? Why am I doing this, exactly?

What are my two options? I can barely see them!

I also have the opportunity to view green 3D models of the various weapons available to the Galbadian army. When I scroll through to the green model of the teal and gold missile, Rinhoa pipes up again. “Is this the one where you set the coordinates? If it is, if you set the error ratio on maximum, there’s a good chance the missiles will miss.” Some points here: first of all, thanks, Rinhoa. I’ll get right on that. Jesus. Also, why does she know this shit? Did her dad discuss missile launchers at the dinner table? Are the Forest Owls better at collecting information than I gave them credit for? Okay, I couldn’t type that last sentence with a straight face. It would be much more believable if Quistis or Selphie had said that line, but I guess that’s what happens when the game designers try to make dialogue interchangeable — now I see why they decided to take the lazy route for 90% of this sequence.

At this point, Stratguidos informs me that by holding down a certain button combination, I can see dancing character models of Galbadian soldiers. Oh, the hilarity! That’s right, the strat guide, which can’t even give me a fucking map or helpful instructions, falls all over itself to point out this totally unnecessary Easter Egg. Awesome. My recapping time is not totally put to waste here, as the model of the Galbadian Officer…well, let’s just say his dance borders on the provocative. Bending at the knees, he tugs wildly at his crotch, followed by a dramatic air punch. He repeats this sequence while I stare in a mixture of horror and amusement. I can’t look away.

Eventually, I manage to tear my eyes from this mentally scarring yet hilarious show and exit out of the program entirely. Team Estrogen’s mission is not yet over, despite this latest “triumph.” Stepping away from the console, they find Dingus back at his staircase post nearby — or Dingus’s replacement, rather. Good thing he didn’t hear their conversation about lowering the accuracy of the missiles. Or maybe he did — it’s not like any of these mental giants would notice anything out of the ordinary. Selphie lies about reporting the “missile coordinate data” to whoever’s at the top of the stairs, causing Dingus 2.0 to step aside and allow them to carry out this fake task. As soon as the girls are offscreen, Dingus 2.0 mutters, in what I imagine to be my Vyse Retard voice, “Did we have someone that puny in our base…?” Dear God. The fact that someone finally pointed out Selphie’s diminutive size only makes these guys seem like bigger morons for not mentioning it earlier.

‘I thought they only let well-hung soldiers in here.’

At long last — 38 minutes and 8 seconds to be exact, the music changes. To think that I would actually get tired of porno music. It switches from something along the lines of “Take it All, Big Boy” to something more like “Chased by a Murderer.” I’m starting to think that trouble just might be afoot. Sure enough, we fade in on yet another control room, this one containing an officer in a red uniform and two more generic blue soldiers. Let’s pretend that these two are Sephiroth and George, since they disappeared from the launcher room earlier. The two of them confirm that everything is going according to plan — I’m assuming they’re talking about the launch, not the aborted gay orgy. “We had some minor setbacks, but proceed as scheduled. We’re running behind, but prepare for the final launch phase,” Officer Durr orders. This is our subtle clue that the fudging of coordinates was not the end of Operation Stop the Missiles.

Just as the orders are sent to the entire base via intercom, the camera switches to our three imposters entering the room. Once more, Selphie tries out the lie she used on Dingus 2.0. At first it appears that Officer Durr, true to his name, is just as mentally-impaired as his subordinates in the base. After a string of ellipses, while the gears in his head are no doubt grinding, he suddenly orders them to stop. “I thought you looked suspicious. You’re the intruders!” Now wait just a minute. How on earth do they “look suspicious”? Is he referring to their obvious femininity? If so, that’s an awfully strange way to put it. Also, this is the first time anyone has mentioned intruders. As far as I could tell, their only suspicious activity was the power outage, and everyone seemed to treat that as a random fuck-up by the “maintenance guys.” Is this just dialogue left over from the “Oops! I Fucked Up!” version of this sequence? Or is Officer Durr somewhat of a psychic? After all, he’s correct about them being “the intruders.” Oh, but then he follows it up with something about a phony salute they did — I think Selphie might have fucked up and used the SeeD salute or something. Whatever — it’s probably the least suspicious thing they’ve done this whole recap.

The game forces this “discovery,” so luckily my glorious SeeD rank increase is still a possibility. All of a sudden, a painful flash of light fills the room, causing the screen to go white and Officer Durr to scream like a girl. Five seconds later, when the screen fades back in, the girls are back in their regular costumes. Wow, that was sneaky, game designers. I almost didn’t notice the trick you used to disguise the ridiculous costume change. This brings up another question — if the girls have been wearing their clothes under these uniforms the entire time, where the hell did Rinhoa stuff her cape? It’s not such a stretch for Selphie’s tiny little hooker skirt to fit inside even the snuggest of uniforms, but what about Quistis’s longer skirt and pant legs? And where has Rinhoa been hiding her weapon? You know, I don’t really want to think about this any longer. Let’s just say it’s the same place Squally hides his gunblade.

The more pressing issue in this scene is the fact that all three of these girls can strip out of a uniform in seconds. I’m sure there are certain professions where that would come in very handy, though I’m not sure why Garden would include it in their training. One more obligatory comment from Selphie about the uniform’s disgusting reek and itchiness leads us into a battle. Here’s where things get fun for me. This is the very first battle of the recap, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I haven’t touched this game in three and a half years. Although I thought far enough ahead to set up my junctions and magic…well, let’s just say this next sequence is not my crowning glory as a gamer. Rather than bog you down with tedious details of the battle, I’ll make a list of the things I forgot:

1) How to trade magic between a current party member and an inactive party member.
2) How to choose decent GF combos for each party member.
3) To fight random battles and stock up on magic before entering the base.
4) That GFs currently in the process of being summoned greatly pad the HP of the summoning party member.
5) That setting up no party members with the Item option, then summoning Carbuncle (party reflect) ends up with the inability to heal anyone.
6) How to fucking Boost, for crying out loud.

In other words, I have a party with shit for magic, except for Quistis, resulting in dismal stats. Naturally, my best party member ends up berserking herself (after being confused by the enemy). What do I do about this situation? Why, just see #5 above. I think watching a sex tape of myself would be less humiliating than this debacle. For completeness’ sake, I’ll add that the enemies occasionally yell crap along the lines of, “These must be Garden students” or “Target the one with the lowest hit points!” or “Ughhhhhhhh!” Riveting stuff, here. By some miracle, I make it to the end of the battle on the first try. I’m momentarily stunned.

Not with my shitty gaming, they aren’t.

With the unconscious bodies of the soldiers littering the ground around them, Selphie squeals, “Ok then! Let’s stop the missiles, blow the base to smithereens, and get outta here!” The three of them agree to look around the control room for a way to accomplish these objectives. Before doing anything else, I make sure to heal — the first intelligent thing I’ve done in the last ten minutes of footage. Selphie “guesses” the correct console on the first try, and psychically determines how to stop the missile sequence. This isn’t too much of a stretch, given the idiot-friendly computer system I dealt with earlier. This taxing process completed, Selphie moves on to finding the “self-destruct mechanism.” Because there always is one. Despite Rinhoa and Quistis supposedly examining the other two consoles earlier, Selphie re-examines both of them and determines that they’re not what she’s looking for. Meanwhile, Rinhoa and Quistis tag along uselessly. Well, more useless than usual, in Rinhoa’s case.

Heading into the adjoining room, which contains even more control panels, Selphie discovers the big red button. I mean that metaphorically, and not literally or sexually. By the way, during this entire sequence, an incessant, annoying alarm sounds and the screen flashes red. I imagine the rest of the retarded soldiers in the base are frantically searching places like the conveyer belt or underneath the outside control panel for the intruders. Good thing for the girls they don’t think to check the obvious and important main control room! Anyway, Selphie only has to look at one of the consoles for less than a second before determining that it houses the self-destruct mechanism. Rinhoa and Quistis watch passively as Selphie taps away at the keyboard/buttons/whatever for a mere ten seconds. I’m waiting for the device to pop up a message about authorization, like the control panel with the missile info, but no. It’s just that simple to destroy the entire base. Shit, with the lack of security, I’m surprised that one of the brainless soldiers didn’t already set this off by accident.

I think you should try stopping them with your face.

Now Selphie has the chance to set a time interval for the base’s destruction: 10, 20, 30, or 40 minutes. I didn’t mention it earlier, but making it through the base undetected was only the first requirement for the SeeD rank increase. The second is to successfully complete the base escape in 10 minutes. “This won’t be too difficult,” I say to myself, remembering all the times I completed this very task with no problems whatsoever. I go ahead and choose the 10 minute option. I think you see where this is going.

A message on the intercom orders the base to evacuate, so at least I don’t have to have the death of any more random soldiers on my conscience. I am also surprised to find that the game designers showed an uncharacteristic amount of mercy in allowing me to exit the base via a nearby door, rather than backtracking through multiple screens. I’m not sure how to reconcile this — it’s like getting a nice birthday card from Hitler.