Cowtastrophe

Prologue

Please don't tip cows. You could end up the defendant in a lawsuit, get impaled by a pitchfork-wielding farmer… or inadvertently kill your fiancée and start an interdimensional war with beings from beyond space and time. But before I can tell you that story, I have to tell you this story.

[Disclaimer: The following is an exceedingly sarcastic rehashing of the Golden Sun games, which helps set the tone for the story. Readers who may be offended by lampooning of the blatant deus ex machinas and absurdities of the series may skip this section if they wish. I do not apologize, though I personally love Golden Sun; as with any abusive relationship, I feel free to fling insults at the series until it begins to question its self-worth and possibly develops a chemical dependency. Enjoy.

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Once upon a time, there were eight teenagers who lived ordinary lives. As with most youths, their time was spent drinking liquor and groping one another, among other typical adolescent pastimes. Four of these eight lived in the same village, and hence were the only four who knew one another – this was before the internet, mind you, and the common man was too busy abusing livestock or being burnt at the stake to invent it. Anyhow, one dark and stormy night, the village was invaded by a raiding party of barbarians from the north. Despite their bizarre names and the fact that they physically resembled clowns whose makeup had begun to smear, apparently nobody recognized them as potentially dangerous until they had already plundered the ancient sanctum that the village was supposed to protect. In true ancient-temple form, the sanctum spat out the clichéd giant boulder, which splattered all but two of the northern clowns, and then proceeded to kill one of the teens along with his family. So sad.

For the next three years, the surviving northern barbarians hung out among the village population, all of whom were far too multicultural and sensitive to blame the clowns for their act of terrorism. Then, one fine autumn day, one of the teens ate a delicious, bright-colored mushroom and had a wonderful idea – she'd enter the forbidden sanctum herself! Yes, the sanctum that had killed her brother and which the village was charged with guarding for all time! She could even bring along two of her buddies and possibly a creepy old geezer who'd divide his time between being stumped by childishly easy puzzles and trying to steal glances up her skirt! And thus, the group set off, sneaking past the single dim-witted guard posted at the sanctum entrance. Apparently, the events of three years ago hadn't taught the village the importance of proper homeland security.

After traversing the sanctum's interior, most of which was taken up by ugly statues and puzzles that a reasonably bright Labrador could solve, the teens and the geezer reached the standard mystical-artifact-storage room mandated since 1998 by the Senate Committee on Dungeon Design, wherein they found four artifacts that could unleash the power of Alchemy into the world. These were the same artifacts which the clowns had failed to acquire three years ago, thus establishing them solidly below Labradors in terms of intellect. Sadly, our shroom-munching heroes weren't that much brighter, since the two surviving clowns were able to follow them to the central chamber, kidnap the girl and the geezer, steal three of the artifacts and set off a volcanic eruption. Evil may be cliché, but it's never dull.

Oh, and her brother turned out to be alive and thoroughly brainwashed by the clowns. Dunno how that happened.

Anyhow, the two remaining teens escaped the sanctum with a fair bit of deus ex machina, and instead of beating their asses, the village elders concocted a much craftier plan. Rather than chuck the remaining artifact into the volcano – presumably foiling the villains' plans – they would send the two boys out into the world, under the guise of a heroic quest! Remember, in these days the world at large was prowled by bandits and psychopaths, and most travelers found themselves being mugged, raped and eaten, sometimes all at the same time. As for the artifact itself, the elders figured that sooner or later the boys would pawn it for drinking money, and it would get lost under someone's couch cushions, never to be seen again. Thus it was that the two teens were sent off on their epic quest to rescue the world from its inevitable doom…

The first town they stopped at was a tiny hamlet whose economy consisted mainly of stealing things and hiding them in attics. Within five minutes, the boys had refined the process by stealing things and taking them with them, searching every jar and crate in the city for a few coins or an herb while the villagers stood by, marveling at their ingenuity. The omission of the attic step led to a remarkable 10 jump in the village's GDP, until someone finally figured out that stealing each other's things wasn't really contributing to the wealth of the village – what they really needed to do was steal other villages' stuff. That proved to be too much effort, so eventually they just hired some creative accountants and watched as their profits soared. Of course, by this time, the two boys had long departed, taking with them a blond midget whose ancient artifact they'd recovered from someone's attic. With nothing better to do, he decided to travel with them until such time as they ran out of food or got exceptionally lonely.

And so they had many exciting adventures, mostly revolving around a talking tree with a decidedly Marxist-environmentalist political stance and the power to curse stuff. For some reason, they decided to head north despite the imminent winter, and so they froze to death and were eaten by bears.

Just kidding. Bears hibernate during the winter. Dumbass.

The three arrived at a small town in the frozen northlands, which was apparently built by complete numbskulls, considering that it was at least fifty miles and a dungeon away from the rest of civilization and had no natural resources to speak of. Noticing a large, phallic building nearby, the party quickly agreed to two binding resolutions: that they had become "a total sausage fest," and that they "need some babes around here." One of the group members made a motion that the blond midget by reclassified as female, but he was voted down with a counter-motion of "you homo."

Fortunately for them, they soon encountered a female healer with a connection to the phallic building, and driven by lust for whatever was under those robes, followed her inside it. On the journey to the peak, the boys proceeded to annoy the piss out of her with incessant dick jokes and constant attempts to look up her skirt on staircases. At the top, they discovered that – what a surprise – this was one of the four lighthouses where the bizarre clowns hoped to use their artifacts to unseal Alchemy! After a brief battle, their antagonists fled thanks to the trickery of a blue-haired man who happened to be a former fuck-buddy of the healer, taking with them the kidnapped and brainwashed villagers. Returning to the nearby town to whine about the succession of failures that comprised their existence, they were astonished to hear that the girl was willing to join them on their quest, having nothing better to do with her life. Erections and discreet high-fives were all around the table.

After a long and uneventful journey through an oriental land chock-full of kung-fu and offensive stereotypes, the group reached a small inland sea in their path. Sadly for them, the path around the sea was blocked by a landslide almost three feet tall… and they'd just eaten lunch… and they'd left all their mountaineering gear in their other armor. Whatever the excuses, they decided instead to take a ship across the sea, and were repeatedly ambushed by sea monsters, each of which killed and/or ate exactly one oarsman, in strict compliance with new hunting laws. After dispatching the sea monsters, which included a kraken and its accompanying Japanese film crew, they arrived at the port of a massive imperialist superpower, which was roughly the size of every little town they'd visited thus far. However, it also had an enormous coliseum where warriors from across the world gathered to kick the crap out of each other for the crowd's amusement, as well as an imprisoned blond midget who the crowd sometimes got to feed garbage to. For reasons that I'm sure made perfect sense, the alleged heroes decided to help find the missing tyrant of the city.

And find him they did, collapsed (invisible, mind you) inside a cave filled with monsters, all of whom apparently had a poor sense of smell, seeing as he had developed a powerful scent over the days he'd spent lying in his own filth. You'd think that even if they didn't want to eat him, they'd have made an effort to say hi. Monsters can be so… monstrous sometimes. Anyhow, the group made its way to the bottom of the cave, where they broke into an ancient pharmacy and retrieved a bottle filled with a miraculous fluid that instantly restored youth and vigor to old men lying in their own filth. After rejuvenating the tyrant, the party returned to the imperialistic superpower and were handsomely rewarded with the opportunity to be killed in public during the coliseum games. Sadly for the crowd, the teens had other plans and cheated copiously, easily winning the games and becoming famous heroes… who shopkeepers refused to give even a tiny discount to.

For some odd reason, possibly the promise of free beer, our heroes agreed to find the lost land of Lemuria, on whose late-night infomercials the tyrant had seen advertisements for his rejuvenating beverage. So they traveled south, following a party of guards who were taking the imprisoned midget out for a walk in order to inspire the people of a conquered midget-worshipping town to build a large, phallic building for the tyrant. Viagra was not yet available outside Lemuria; he had to make do with the next best thing. Anyway, the guards, being incompetent, were quickly ambushed by the clowns, and the midget was kidnapped… again. After crossing the desert and reaching the midget-worshipping town, the heroes entered the partially-constructed phallic building and took an underground tunnel to yet another phallic building… which, whaddaya know, turned out to be another lighthouse.

Atop the lighthouse, the heroes battled the clowns once more after a long and pointless conversation, soundly kicking their asses. Perhaps taking pity on their adversaries – after all, the unbalanced battle system lent itself to the spamming of summons in such a way as to make combat ridiculously easy – the party let them live. This proved to be a mistake, as the villains proceeded to light the lighthouse – who would've guessed? – and then transform into a two-headed dragon, whose four-cheeked ass was soundly kicked in quick succession. For some reason, this led to the entire group of adversaries becoming suicidal; the clowns leapt into the lighthouse itself, whereas the blond midget and its tamer threw themselves into the sea below. Laughing their asses off, our heroes proceeded to steal the tyrant's private yacht and sail out to sea for a months-long cruise to a succession of islands whose natives had few, if any, sexual taboos.

Oh, and they also wanted to rescue the chick who the clowns had stolen. That too.

While they were off doing that, of course, the blond midget and its tamer miraculously washed up on a tiny floating island. Strangely enough, it was the exact same floating island on which dwelt the boy's sister, the old geezer, and the blue-haired prick from the first lighthouse. I mean, c'mon, how many floating islands can there be? Anyway, the group was overjoyed to be back together, at least until the floating island was swamped by a tidal wave and they all drowned.

Just kidding. There was another deus ex machina.

Miraculously avoiding injury, the three teens and the geezer washed up on an unfamiliar continent. Arriving at a nearby town devastated by the wave, they ignored the pleas of the townsfolk and the FEMA workers and joined the looters, searching specifically for a working boat so they could go light some lighthouses or whatever. Sadly, the townspeople practiced an ancient art of shipbuilding which rendered their boats invulnerable to damage from any source – with the exception of, you guessed it, water. Since the tidal wave had melted all their boats, the alleged heroes abandoned the town to its fate and headed south to seek a working ship.

After having many useless adventures involving an ancient monastery and the blatant thwarting of natural selecting in the case of two dim-witted children, the group made its way to another town on the southern edge of the continent. This town had recently come under attack by pirates, you see, so of course they were perfectly reasonable in letting three heavily-armed warriors, all of whom had spellcasting ability, into the town after only a cursory round of questioning. On the subject of natural selection, maybe there's a reason the continent had only two towns on it…

Anyway, this town had no boats in it either, so our heroes had to make do with visiting the few local landmarks, including a jail containing one particularly annoying blue-haired inmate who constantly whined about violations of his civil rights. The group pointed out to him that, since this was a medieval fantasy world, after all, the few civil rights he had were on the level of "the government cannot kill you unless it first proclaims you a heretic." After thus informing the prisoner, they decided, fuck it, they would head east onto yet another continent to look for a boat… since, after all, this was a medieval fantasy world, and people had tremendous amounts of spare time while they sat around waiting for bubonic plague to kill them.

Crossing a desert, the heroes made their way to a small town which had also been devastated by the tidal wave – but which had a functional boat! The townspeople, all of whom by this point lived in FEMA trailers, begged the heroes to dispose of their evil mayor, who used the town's funds to buy oil from known pirates. Upon learning that the pirates had traded their oil for the boat, the group beat the crap out of them and tried to swipe it, only to learn that a big rock had fallen on its mast. Rather than, I dunno, building a new mast, the group once again decided, fuck it, we're gonna scour the continent for another working boat.

After getting lost in the desert, climbing a big pink rock, and messing around with nice, cuddly werewolves, the teens and their pet geezer returned to the first pirate-afflicted town, which had just suffered yet another act of terrorism thanks to the blind eye they turned to illegal immigration. Hearing that the terrorists had stolen a shiny black thing, the heroes' undying love for shiny objects took them onto another continent, this time to the west. Outsmarting any number of dim-witted guards, they pursued the terrorists through a mountainous pass to their homeland.

Noticing that every man, woman, and child in this village carried a spear and a loincloth embroidered with the words "Death to the Great Satan," the heroes wisely decided to avoid a direct fight, instead joining forces with the escaped convict, who was also searching for the shiny object. Fortunately, the statue to which the terrorist tribe sacrificed the orb happened to be hollow… and about ten times as large inside as out… and the group was able to retrieve the shiny black orb, which turned out to be a fully functional cold-fusion reactor capable of powering, oh, I dunno, a boat. As luck would have it, the escaped convict had a boat on hand, and the heroes set off for the ocean.

The four teens and the accompanying geezer tried to sail to the western part of the world, where stood the other two lighthouses, but were stymied by a small, rocky object about three feet thick. Rather than blow through it with, I dunno, their ability to summon meteors and deities, the group gave up and sailed the eastern oceans aimlessly, having many pointless adventures such as saving a chick from a misogynistic dragon and exploring some ancient ruins. With absolutely no hints of where to go, they were on the verge of giving up until a higher power shelled out fifteen bucks for the official strategy guide and commanded them to search for the three prongs of some ancient trident or something. While they were doing this, of course, they miraculously managed to avoid running into the other four teens, all of whom had by this point contracted an antibiotic-resistant case of something-or-other and decided to return to their quest.

Finally recovering all three pieces of the trident, the party had it put back together by an old hag who just so happened to be the grandmother of the pirate whose ass they had earlier kicked. With the trident, they were able to defeat the legendary sea monster Poseidon and enter the mythical land of Lemuria, whose resemblance to ancient Greece was strange considering how badly Greek mythology had just been raped. Anyway, in Lemuria, they finally learned that the lighthouses had to be lit to prevent the world from dying, thus finally giving their random wanderings a purpose! Anyway, they also received an ancient, mystical artifact that allowed them to effortlessly destroy the aforementioned three-foot-thick barrier and progress into the western ocean.

Upon entering the western ocean, the group proceeded to make landfall on two new continents, each of which had exactly one town of appreciable size, almost as though some cosmic Designer had gotten exceedingly lazy halfway through the- never mind. Our heroes faced xenophobia, misogyny, and horrible mistranslations (how the hell are American Indian warriors labeled knights?!) to recover yet another sacred artifact from a tribe before entering the third lighthouse… where they promptly encountered not only the other four heroes, but two more northern barbarian clowns and the blue-haired prick from earlier. Just like one happy little reunion… where everyone was trying to kill everyone else.

However it happened, all eight teens survived the confrontation atop the lighthouse, though their artifact was stolen and the beacon was lit. Being close to death – but, thanks to contrived plot events, not quite dead yet – they decided not to kill each other atop the lighthouse, but to meet in town and "talk things over," which each party correctly understood to mean kill the others then. After thoroughly booby-trapping the meeting site over the intervening night, each group made their way to the building after double-checking their concealed weapons and preparing a last will and testament. However, all these preparations turned out to be unnecessary after the red-haired boy got struck in the testicles by a spring-loaded iron rod trap, after which both parties laughed heartily, decided "you know what, these fuckers are alright," and joined forces to light the last lighthouse and save a bunch of people who were so totally killed by the big rock.

Okay, maybe I'm oversimplifying a bit. But that's about as long and intellectually solid as the dialog was.

Anyway, despite having two powerful fire-element spellcasters, the party was stymied by a big wall of ice to the north… and so, they ventured into an active volcano because, hey, it was there. Retrieving a small volcanic rock which apparently had the power to rape the laws of physics, they launched it from a cannon without the need for that pesky gunpowder, and shattered the wall of ice, allowing them to reach the homeland of the northern barbarian clowns. Fortunately for the heroes – who, as we recall, had killed two of the clowns' best warriors – the laid-back tribe's official motto was "Whatever," and they received a fairly warm welcome. After chilling with the clowns for a bit and giving all the pretty young barbarianesses their diseases, the heroes decided it was time for this dreary little saga to end… and so, they set off for the final lighthouse.

Exploring the lighthouse's interior, our heroes found a pair of dragons frozen inside a giant ice cube. As you or I would do in such a situation, assuming we had consumed a massive overdose of nonprescription medication, the party decided to free the dragons from the ice cube. The dragons, of course, immediately set on their saviors, intent on tearing them limb-from-limb and consuming their still-warm flesh. Happily, the dragons' asses were kicked. Sadly, though, while clowns may be proficient at climbing lighthouses, they are not very skilled at evading the judgment of a one-eyed glob of deus ex machina. That's right – the dragons were actually the clowns who had stolen the last artifact from the heroes! I'd never have guessed! Well… maybe not if the dragons had used different moves than the clowns… or if I hadn't seen clowns become dragons before… or if… ahhh, fuck it.

Chuckling and leaving the clowns to die, the party swiped the last artifact and headed to the top of the lighthouse, palpable relief filling their faces. They'd done it – by killing every carbon-based organism in a five-mile radius through the magic of random encounters, they'd eliminated all potential final bosses. The last lighthouse would be the easiest! They could light it without any confrontation! They-

Oh fuck.

As usual, an omnipotent deity figure materialized in front of them and uttered a few cryptic remarks about the world deserving to be destroyed. It also turned out that the blue-haired prick from earlier had been manipulating them all along. Everyone whined about the situation for a while until the deity got bored, threw a three-headed dragon at them, and left. Demonstrating the lovely prank-playing quality so common among deities (which has led to, among other things, Sudan), the dragon turned out to be a fusion of three of the heroes' parents. Thanks a lot, you divine prick.

Anyway, after the contrived final boss, the heroes stood around being angsty until one of them finally decided to, y'know, light the damn lighthouse. And, happily, the lighting of the aforementioned lighthouse miraculously resurrected the dead parents… thus defusing any and all emotion associated with the situation.

And thus our heroes returned home, having saved the world. But wait – what about the blue-haired prick? Having successfully manipulated the dim-witted heroes, he climbed the legendary mountain – which, by the way, was supposed to be an active volcano – and received the almighty power of the Golden Sun. And just when you thought there would be a real final boss, the series ended with a clusterfuck of deus ex machinas that left at least three plot threads unresolved.

As for the eight teens, they all lived happily ever after. At least until the cow-tipping incident.

To be continued…