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Dec. 8th, 2008 05:24 pmWhat we’ve learned today is that I should never spend an entire hour trying to do the Fucking Impossible Roller Gizmo Galaxy in Super Mario Galaxy, especially when that hour is late at night. Because at some point in there I will be so tired of it I’ll start to wonder what Mario thinks of all this, and then somehow I’ll do some tremendous leap of weirdness and suddenly I’m amusing myself making up what Mario would be thinking if Frank Miller had written his inner monologue.
It’s been a thousand lifetimes since I started this level.
Lava’s bubbling at my feet, almost lapping at my shoes. He loves his hell. I lost my fireballs somewhere. Don’t remember what happened. Don’t even remember why I do this. It seemed so clear at the beginning.
I do it for her. She’s all I’ve got—her and Luigi.
Hang on, Princess.
He’s waiting for me on the bridge, grinning—no other expression on the bastard’s reptile face. The fangs hold flames, and then I’m engulfed. My mushroom vanishes. I can’t touch him.
Then I see the axe.
He’s powering up another flame. Come on, old man—just one more leap. Just one—
I watch him sink, his flaming grin still on me. Lava’s his favorite bath. This won’t stop him for long. But for now—
I fling the cell door open before my knees give out. Made it. Made it one last time.
And beyond the door is a Toad, relief clear on his face. Where are you, Princess?
The Toad smiles sadly, and I know what’s coming.
“Thank you, Mario. But our princess is in another castle.”
It never ends.
I may have to revise my opinion of Frank Miller, which so far has been “I Fucking Hate Frank Miller.” I had never realized before that he’s comedy gold. Now if only I could wedge something about whores in there …
