Bay 12 Games Forum

Lies. The original Smash Bros was on '64.

Virtual console.

The privateer dropped what he was doing in order to glance at his ailing comrade.

"Hang in there mate...Urgh, any of our numbers have a medical license of any sort?"

He had very few reassuring things to say on the matter.

>Move two tiles north, and one tile northeast and show Mr. Bones a piece of Chauner's mind on the current situation! Stably stably!

The pumpkin just blankly stared.

"Uh, I don't think this pumpkin has enough of a vocabulary on it to answer those sort of questions."

He waved his hand around the creature's face, yet it didn't respond. The buccaneer attempted to smell the two objects, yet neither of them gave any scent whatsoever.

The pumpkin man grabbed onto the glass and throwed it into his mouth, a horrid crunching noise resulting as he chomped it down like it was a piece of meat. Glass shards flew from the fiend's resulting messy eating, throwing shrapnel across the room and forcing the group to duck down in order to avoid harm. Another popping noise, and another demand. Propman was all too familiar with the game now, having been struck by it firsthand in one of his earlier forum escapades.

"Give me the eggs!"

The Hungry Pumpkin slammed his fist onto the table with enough force as to jolt the foods around a bit, mixing around the order ever so slightly. He seemed to had grown slightly from the last meal.

The cabinet that the group had entered wouldn't budge. They were trapped within the room. Propman glanced at the curious being as he tried to remember what the heck it reminded him of. He looked at the assortment of foods and tried to find what might be considered a sandwich to the being, unaware at SB's finding and subsequent throwing of the blocky foodstuff, which took him aback.

The pumpkin grabbed the sandwich mid-air and started to munch on it voraciously, loudly slobbering and slurping in front of the group. A popping noise resonated from within their heads.

"Give me the water."

"Urg...Prepare yourselves, lads. "

Propman shielded his nose and mouth with the collar of his greatcoat once more, as though mildly diluted with the passing of time, the room was as foul smelling as ever.

The pirate prodded the grime encrusted walls until he scratched a clear, glassy object, revealing a single glimmer from the otherwise completely saturated mirror pane. There was a rusted out knob to the side of it, which he gingerly opened using the end of his weapon, careful not to pry it off by accident. A small square of light was revealed, a bit on the small side, yet more then adequate for a person to crawl through if needed. Though he could not discern what was on the other side from inside the restroom, Propman stuck his head through in order to see what was beyond. It was small dark and...The inside of a cabinet? He pushed open the end of the small space, and slowly crawled through.

The room appeared to be some sort of small diner, and the scent of the restroom almost miraculously dissipated at the scent of food frying upon a greasy grill. A set of food was neatly lined upon the counter, including a hamburger, a hotdog, a sandwich, and a whole slew of food one would associate with such an area, as well as objects one wouldn't such as noodles and fish. Standing on the white linoleum floor, the front of the room was a large glass pane, peeking out into what appeared lush green plain next to a road with...cars. A closer glance revealed that it was merely some sort of facade, as the scene had no dimension, as if he was staring at a TV screen. Nevertheless, a door seemed to be present, most likely leading onto the next room.

"Crikey, look at this!"

Though Propman wasn't terribly hungry, the food smelled too good to pass up, and he attempted to grab an object at random, immediately flinching and wincing as he dropped the resulting item back on the counter almost as quickly as he originally grasped onto it, lightly cutting his fingers on the rough, polygonal representation of a hotdog that was placed on the front. Looking at the room again, the whole area appeared as an unnatural early attempt at some computer animator's diorama, the objects being unnaturally sharp and shaded, as if they were made from a kind of hard light. A distant orange figure was showing up from behind the windows.

Propman slowly climbed through the chain, careful to keep poise so as to prevent his spear from falling out of the belt. He landed on the upper floor of the room with a loud clomp, and regrabbed his weapon, utilizing it as a walking stick.

"I'll be leading the way. Hopefully the hand took a clue and isn't still lingering in the toilet."