3.
Star Max and the Corneria Street Fighters.
(based from the hair-raising, suicide inducing novel: "Sam & Max kicks butt in outer space!")
After miraculously avoiding the rather unappealing fate of being devoured by a giant new-born alien carnivore plant, our two Chosen heroes by the Goddesses of reckoning randomness finally managed to sigh in relief and relax in the surprisingly comfortable spore-made softness of their newly acquired mushroom spaceship.
"Max? Are you trying to eat our ship again?" The unmistakable inquiring tone of the freshly labeled captain Sam Aran (as his soul eating irremovable nametag stated) asked to his dangerously gluttonous little buddy.
"Mmmhno…" The oversized headed lagomorph thingamajig by the name of Max Payne (as his soul eating nametag stated right before painfully dying for starvation) answered back while almost choking himself with a piece of the spaceship. Sam rolled his eyes.
"Young rabbity things will be young rabbity things." He said to himself.
"Ehi Sam, why don't we see what our supposedly godlike passenger is doing, for no particular reason?" Max advanced.
"Yes… Distracting our attention from driving is one sure way to ruin any virtual impeccable space travel!" Sam enthusiastically replied. Then the both of them, openly ignoring the subtle sarcasm of the latest sentence, and the ever so overrated common sense, turned their heads to take a satisfying look at the Asian divinity of jumping midgets that happened to be their passenger…
"Ehi Sam, what do you think is wrong with this picture?"
"Mmmh… Aside from the fact that our prized passenger aka unique object of our entire mission seems to be missing and the rather worrying giant hole in the back of our vehicle that threatens to suck us into a very disdainful death by floating in outer space frozen like the proverbial clichéd caveman… Nothing at all!"
"Phew… I was worried for a minute." And with that said, Max launched himself towards the hole in the fabric, successfully blocking it with the convenient cartoon-like non-proportioned-ness of his skull.
"Good job Max! I knew that oversized illegal weapon we usually referred to as 'your head', would have been a perfect cork for potentially lethal space vacuuming holes such as this one!" Sam proudly stated, raising his arm over his head in the typical "Eureka" manner.
"It's a good thing that my fragile grey matter is protected by that huge piece of metal planted in my skull, otherwise it would have probably spilled out from my nose and fluffy bunny ears in a scornful gory fashion!" Max said through the hole his head was so efficiently blocking.
"And it's a good improvised antenna for capturing any nearby satellite signals, too!" Said Sam while watching a wrestling match on TV and eating popcorn. "None the less, we've got to somehow rescue Mr. Miyamoto, Max" He muttered, reassuming his questionable professionalism. "A few millions of barbarian hardcore gamers would very well sacrifice our lives to the Hyrulian Goddesses if we don't bring him back to earth in one piece… Or at least, in presentable pieces."
"Will this rescue mission involve uncalled for Sci-fi references in spite of any form of copyright decency?"
"Probably…"
"WHO'S YOUR DADDY, LUKE!!?" Max yelled in eager enthusiasm… The one that usually precedes a catastrophe beyond human recognition.
"You crack me up, little overused movie sentences' twisting buddy!" And with that said, Sam ignited the lightspeed engine and the mushroom spaceship disappeared within the stellar infinity of space, while the "Star Wars" theme was relentlessly playing in the background.
"Wow… I did not see that coming." Said Max in evident annoyance, while his seemingly indestructible head did not suffer the rather overrated effects of the warping experience.
Max's head… The last frontier.
"Ehi, I found a moon rock in my nose!" Indeed.
It didn't take too long for the two copyright breakers (for which I have no responsibility whatsoever) to reach their randomly chosen destination with just 4 planets mesmerized in the process and one induced Super Nova...
"Well… I guess that's it for the Orion constellation, eh little buddy?"
"Awww… I'm sure nobody is gonna notice that giant burning star destroying everything in its path." Max confidently assumed while applying some sun lotion on his 3rd degree burnt body.
"For being our first reckless lightspeed travel, it went down pretty well."
"You mean… Our first lightspeed travel IN space!"
"Precisely."
Suddenly, Sam's attention was lured by a peculiar street sign placed on a floating piece of meteor right in front of them.
"What's written on it, Sam?" And thus, Sam began to read.
"Attention, fellow reckless spaceship travelers and probable copyright breakers, you are now entering Corneria Street, the most favorite enemy filled space highway for the occasional X-wing-like drivers with a taste for cheap game references, predictably fitting musical choices and, naturally, wanton destruction in the typical Sci-fi style! Please, take a hold of your Form Baton before entering this area…" After reading the advice all in one breath, Sam motioned his already pissed-off mini buddy to get a hold of his Form Baton (which is a Wii remote, in case you've forgotten), only to notice there was something else written on the advice in smaller characters: "P.S. If you are close enough to read this, then you should probably slow down." Sam read right before crashing the Mushroom Desoto on it at full speed.
"SAM, DO THE BARREL ROLL!!!" Yelled Max in panic.
"It's a little too late for that, Max… But thanks anyway." Sam scornfully said.
"Anytime, Sam!" The lagomorph happily replied, once again tragically ignoring the record breaking amount of sarcasm in his older friend's tone.
As soon as they grabbed their respective Batons, a rather unpleasant cluster of alien battle ships approached them with evident bellicose intent. Out of nowhere, a familiar piece of paper scrolled itself in front of the freelance starship fighters, revealing a whole new position for the Form Baton to assume.
The DBZ scouter… Place the Form Baton on your right or left ear like the aforementioned most accursed Japanese device of utter overusing-ness. The successful appliance of this position depends on three simple things: determination, ears and the awesome ability to ignore corny references.
"How the hell am I supposed to place this thing on my ear, Sam!?"
"Here… Let me." And Sam glued the Baton on Max's oversized skull with some convenient adhesive tape. "There you go, little buddy, now you're ready for the greatest corny adventure of your life!"
"I hate you so much, right now…"
As the space army grew dangerously closer and the predictable musical choice began to play, the newest (and despised-est) series of micro games to boot, started its painful course of utter evilness:
Bang your head! Done.
Bang your head twice! Done.
Bang your head thrice! Done.
Bang your freakin' head in crazy heavy metal fashion, dude! Done.
Bandage your bleeding head after crashing it on the steering wheel! Painfully done.
"… You know, the rockstar's auto-destructive kind of life style isn't exactly how I imagined it to be." Complained Max, while adjusting his metallic cranium.
Spit random commands to your spaceship.
"Errr… Fly? Turn? Shoot? Don't get hit by the enemy?"
"It's not working, Sam!"
"Damn all these useless peripherals!"
Failed. You lost a life.
"That sucks…"
"Don't worry, little buddy… We still have three lives left.
"Woo-hoo…"
State this angry Japanese guy's power level!
"IT'S OVER…. Errrrr, 2500? 5000? 150000000? DRAT! It's in times like that I wish I wasn't analphabet…"
"Don't worry Max… As far as I'm concerned, you are in possession of all the necessary attributes to become U.S. president."
"I already am U.S. president, Sam!"
"See? What did I tell you?"
Failed. You lost a life.
"Okay, I'll do the next… Stay back Max and watch a professional Baton holder at work!"
Save the princess and kill the monster! Failed. You lost a life.
"I was pretty sure the princess was the monster!"
"It's a common mistake, Sam."
Boss Stage!
Defeat the shambling incorporate presence that threatens the entire universe's life!
"Is it just me or that supposed shambling incorporate presence resembles a stereotypical Sumo wrestler?"
"That would explain why the entire galaxy suddenly turned into a crowd filled downtown alley… And the obnoxious boy band-like music, too. Anyway, could you please end this thing, little buddy?"
"HADOKEN!!!"
Destroyed!
"We did it again, little buddy! We managed to once again overcome all the absurd obstacles put in front of us by… THE VIDEOGAME INDUSTRY!!!"
RPG badass music time, GO!
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi
"Max! What did I tell you about old repetitive jokes?"
"But… It wasn't me this time, Sam!" The current master of the secret martial arts' technique of ultimate pwning-ness, complained.
"Then who…" Before Sam could actually complete his sentence, the aforementioned overused theme grew louder as a certain giant burning star was slowly devouring the entire galaxy in its ever lasting flames of impending doom. "Oooooh… Right. Well, you know what to do, little buddy." Sam calmly stated as he began opening a fine bottle of sun cream.
"ETERNAL TANNING, HERE I COME!!!" Max joyously cried as he put a couple of sunglasses on his eyes and just relaxed.
Meanwhile, in some remote part of the universe yet to be discovered and make fun of… A certain Asian Godlike entity was creating Life at his own image and ideals…
"I'm sorry but your credibility is in another galaxy!"
Then he got pissed and destroyed it.
Too bad!
Game over.