Last time, Vagina Maxwell and Maya Schlongtingler came one step closer to consummating their burgeoning Sapphic relationship after tussling with our favourite power-crazed gay cowboy on the tip of a giant stone phallus. Mixed messages, to say the least. Also, people were annoying and talked way too much, but that should be a given by now.
Before returning to our intrepid quartet, we’re “treated” to a sepia-toned flashback starring the moustachioed guy from Clive’s memories. As a tinkly, nostalgic piano theme tries in vain to stir some emotion in the player, we see a montage of Moustache Man wagging his finger at the camera, scrutinizing a pile of dirt, examining what looks like a computer monitor, and addressing Clive sternly. In fact, I think it’s the exact same flashback as before, which is hardly surprising given the game designers’ dedication to recycling. It was boring as hell the first time around, and it’s still boring as hell now, but Clive eventually wakes up.
“It has been a while, since I had that dream…” the Phantom Text God writes across a black screen. “The ruins must have awakened my memories. Professor…what do I do?” This is obviously Clive’s internal dialogue, which throws me for a loop since such introspective ramblings are usually reserved for Vagina. Whatever — as long as Gallows and Jet don’t get in on the action too, I think I can deal with it. Fade in on Claiborne’s saloon, where Jet, Gallows and Vagina are waiting for Clive as patiently as you might expect. Showing a total lack of consideration for Clive’s intensive skincare regime, Gallows asks what the hell took him so long. Because they clearly have such a heavy schedule at the moment.
Go for it. At this point, I’ll take ‘not very interesting’ over ‘annoying’.
“I feel like we’ve finally made it out of a long tunnel,” Vagina sighs in relief. At the risk of getting ahead of myself, we’re about to head into an even longer and darker one. Now that Anus is dead (shh, don’t ruin the twist for them!), they’re at a loose end, giving Jet an opening to kvetch about their continued lack of money. I’d forgotten what a multi-layered and complex character he is!
As she’s wont to do, Vagina rounds on Jet for his money-grubbing attitude, but Clive interjects that he actually has a point for once. This leads in to him finally explaining why he ended up looking for the Cock Scepter in the first place — apparently, he “became a Drifter in order to find the lost memories of this world.” From this borderline pretentious statement — please, Clive, you’re one of the two tolerable members of the group — we might deduce that Feelgayer, like, has amnesia or something. But no — apparently it’s just decaying at an alarming rate. We kind of already knew this, but thanks for the reminder, game. Vagina exposits that folklore attributes the planet’s decay to a long-forgotten war against the demons, and Clive believes that this legend has a basis in historical fact. “My professor and I travelled to many locales, investigating the cause of the planet’s decay,” he reveals. Translation, if that wretched flashback is to be believed: “My professor and I stood around for hours on end staring at huge piles of dirt.” Riveting!
Clive continues that his professor — aka Moustache Man — died at some point during their travels (of boredom?), leaving him to continue their investigation alone. In the time since, he’s reached the following conclusion: “Even though the destruction of the planet by demons only appears in folklore, many artifacts proving their existence have been excavated.” Wait. Is this proof, or “proof?” Because Clive sounds like he’s dangerously close to Ancient Aliens territory, and I’m not sure I can cope with that. It’s like finding out that actor or musician you admire is a homophobe or a conspiracy theorist. Or that Youtuber you like is a Gamergate supporter.
‘I’m not saying it was demons. But it was demons.’
OK, we know the demons actually exist(ed), so I guess I can give Clive the benefit of the doubt. I’m just terrified of him turning to the Wank Side and leaving Vagina as the sole party member who doesn’t make me want to break things. Gallows, meanwhile, has some real, actual thoughts on Clive’s theory: “So basically, the demons may have had something to do with the world’s decay, but you think there might be another, more direct cause?” I’m having a hard time believing all those multisyllabic words actually came out of Gallows’s mouth, but incredibly, he’s on the mark. Clive isn’t sure what this other cause is, but suspects the Eternal Sparkle might be involved. “Are we getting ourselves involved with something unbelievably extraordinary?” Vagina wonders. This is an RPG — of course not! You’re getting yourselves involved in something decidedly mundane. You won’t even remember it this time next week.
“What good is history?” Jet contributes from his lonely table in Wankers’ Corner. “It’s not like we can sell it. What we need now is money.” Hey, writers, Jet’s mentioned money, or the accrual thereof, twice in the last two minutes. Next time, have him make a comment about being a lone wolf who doesn’t give a shit about other people, lest we forget his other character trait. Just a helpful pointer. Vagina’s ready to verbally eviscerate him yet again, but Clive defends him for the second time this recap. It pains me to say that his cel-shaded ass is rapidly going down in my estimation. After some gentle persuasion, Vagina admits that the party’s lack of funds is indeed a problem, and we get a fade out. But it’s just the game designers displaying their inherent cruelty again — when we fade back in, the fucking scene’s still in progress. God damn it.
Amazingly, it falls to Gallows to point out the obvious: that there’s probably not much Gella to be made in a town where the height of excitement is someone’s hen laying a double-yolker. He reckons they’ll find more leads in the delightfully named Little Twister, a “seedy little town” not too far from Claiborne. But there’s a catch — he doesn’t recall exactly where it is, as he hitched a ride on a caravan and fell asleep the first time he went there. Of course he did. Vagina basically goes, “My God, THIS FUCKING GUY” but agrees they should check it out. Providing they don’t all die of heatstroke or exhaustion while trying to locate it, I suppose. Before we continue, I should point out that somewhere in my brain — most likely in the section where I hoard useless information in lieu of facts and knowledge that might actually benefit me — is the notion that Little Twister was originally called Titty Twister. I have no idea whether this is actually true, and I’m not really invested enough to go and research it, but the name amuses my adolescent self enough to adopt it officially.
I take a deep breath, anticipating a protracted round of Talk to Everyone in order to get directions I won’t be able to follow properly anyway. But it turns out our first information dispenser is just feet away — Miss Gulch, of all people. Not remotely concerned that her niece has apparently disappeared, she instead chooses to mention that Titty Twister lies to the west, on the other side of a huge crevasse. This suits her just fine, she claims, since the “hotheads” from the Wrong Side of the Chasm can’t come over here to cause trouble. “But we do get blockheads who pass through here…” she finishes, casting a very pointed look towards the party. Okay, I know she’s an evil harridan who whips children for fun, but I have to give her some points for that shade. A few other NPCs around town very naturally reiterate the general direction of Titty Twister. I love this — nobody even seemed aware of its existence up until now, but now we actually need to go there, the entire town can’t stop talking about it. But before we actually get there, it’s time for one of my favourite things in all the world — a scene of the villains discussing their nefarious plans!
Can you please do something about the wallpaper while you’re at it?
We fade in on a clinical, futuristic room completely at odds with the Old Western aesthetic seen throughout the game thus far. Hey, this sounds familiar! The three robed individuals who briefly debuted back in Part 3 are pacing around, raving about the results of some undetermined experiment. If they’re scientists, then those priestly garments, with their multiple floaty layers and enormous baggy sleeves, seem mighty impractical. The fey blond man (still identified only as “Slickster”) observes that things are going exactly as they predicted — various Drifters have begun searching for artifacts, and “he” is demanding more power. I do wonder who this mysterious man could be. “Robed Woman” replies that any impediment to their plans must be removed, and volunteers to take care of things herself, prompting Slickster to poke fun at her for always taking things too seriously. Predictably, this doesn’t go down well, but the third member of their group intervenes before she can strangle him with one of her many reams of cloth.
“Masked Man” calmly reminds the others that they’ve each been given a task, and squabbling amongst themselves probably isn’t going to help them get the job done. Robed Woman puts her I Am a Calm and Rational Scientist head back on and starts reeling off a progress report on something called the [fortress]. The brackets aren’t mine, by the way, and I’m pretty sure they’re grammatically incorrect, but who am I to argue with an accomplished professional? Anyway, the [fortress] is currently at 14%, which just isn’t good enough for Masked Man. He essentially tells Robed Woman to hurry her slow ass up, and Slickster tells her to loosen up once again. Um, those two things don’t really go together. With all these conflicting instructions from her colleagues, it’s no wonder she sounds close to going off the deep end. “And rely on that unscrupulous rogue!?” she screeches, and if you still don’t know the identity of this mysterious man they keep droning about, there’s no hope for you.
I actually had to rewind that last part because I got so distracted by the hideous interior design in this place. Remember those maze puzzles we all had as kids? Well, imagine one that covers an entire freaking room, including the floor and walls, and you’ll have a somewhat accurate picture of the decor around here. Man, if this is what these guys have to stare at all day, I’m starting to see why they all seem a few tacos short of a combo platter. Speaking of crazies, the (surprise!) very much alive Anus Cascade takes his cue to enter the room, and…well, he looks a little different since we last saw him. Apparently, being stabbed by Soul Edge results not in a painful death, but in the growth of scales and webbed fins. I got nothin’. He’s really gone overboard with the backcombing, too, giving him the overall appearance of a merman cosplaying as a Dragonball Z character. Oh, and he’s still wearing his regular clothes, which just adds to the weirdness of his new look. What in the fuck were the game designers smoking when they gave him this makeover?
Though Robed Woman clearly isn’t happy about Anus’s presence, Slickster seems to think he’ll be a valuable asset to their cause, so long as they keep a close eye on him and make sure he doesn’t step out of line. So, essentially, Anus is working his probationary period in a new job? Man, I’d fucking love if one of them sent him out for coffee. “He needs to be broken in,” Masked Man declares. Ugh, the images. “If abnormal behaviour ensues, let him go.” On cue, Anus takes his leave, declaring, “My time has ended…” while staring into the palm of his hand, like he’s about to deliver a Shakespearean monologue. Fuck this. It’s hard to imagine how Community Theatre Anus could possibly be any more annoying than Megalomaniac Gay Cowboy Anus, but I’m dreading his next appearance already.
Sadly not.
It’ll probably take us another 4-5 trips to the Maze Puzzle Laboratory before we come anywhere close to gaining an understanding of what the robed freaks are planning, so without further ado, let’s head back to Vagina and the others. On the World Map, they mount their steeds and ride towards the giant ravine standing between them and Titty Twister, but are rudely sucked into a random battle before they can attempt the jump. You heard that right — in this game, even riding a horse isn’t enough to stop enemy encounters. I just can’t catch a break.
In my first playthrough, I thought that the horseback random battles were the coolest thing ever, somehow overlooking the innate hilarity of the poor monsters frantically running alongside the galloping party like they were trying to catch a bus. This time around, however, I’ve seen the error of my ways — whoever made this game design decision should receive some kind of award for their services to comedy. The only way it could possibly be any funnier is if the entire party accidentally rode right off the edge of the ravine (which, by all rights, they should have in the ~3 minutes taken up by this random battle).
That jump looks easy enough, right?
Back to the party’s attempts to jump the Great Crevice of Claiborne. The key word here being “attempts.” See, at some point during the development of this game, a certain bitter and twisted game designer decided that it wasn’t quite enough to combine mandatory horse-riding with a game engine that makes characters handle like they’re walking through molasses with their feet bound. That would just be minor-league trolling. No, the jumps also have to be approached at exactly the right angle, or else the horse in question (in this case, Vagina’s mount, Quicksilver) just stops dead at the edge of the abyss and whinnies indignantly. I’m talking pixel precision here. I don’t think it’ll be news to any of you that I don’t manage to succeed on my first try, or my eighteenth, but after a few more attempts (and even more outbursts containing words I only use when David Cameron appears on my TV), the gang finally makes it across.
There’s a skip in my recording here because I literally got so pissed off that I had to take a lengthy break. If you’ve never played this game, you’re probably wondering why I got so angry at these cute cel-shaded horsies and their half-hearted showjumping, in which case you should thank your lucky stars you haven’t had to ride them yourselves. I’m not even going to rephrase that.
Go fuck yourself, Alan.
Keeping up my tradition of sadly bumbling around the World Map until I accidentally stumble upon my intended destination, Vagina has two false alarms before the woefully inadequate radar locates Titty Twister; the first, a carelessly dropped money bag containing a whopping 3,500 Gella, and seconds afterwards, an innocuous sign dispensing financial advice from one Alan Smithee Smithy, the legendary Drifter. I bet he had a horse that handled better than a three-wheeled shopping trolley, Quicksilver.