-famicom-
What ho! Another strange land to traverse in my never-ending quest to return home. Ah, sweet patricepamelapattypearlPenelope. And... Tele- Teller- How the heck do you pronounce this? Whatever. Wife and Son Guy, I'll be home to see you soon! Just gotta figure out why I wanted to come here again.
"You didn't want to come here, sir. We shipwrecked... again."
Did we now? One really has to wonder why that keeps happening. Seems awfully inconvenient.
"I'm sure the fact that you're wearing our sails as a cape has nothing to do with it, sir."
Right, so it has to be something else. Anyone have any clue where we are this time? Please tell me there are no cyclopses, I am so goddamn tired of cyclopses. Cyclopsi. Cyclopseses. They smell awful, and their loot is frankly worthless.
"So maybe you shouldn't spend hours running around killing every one we come across, sir? I mean, Poseidon is mad at you and everything, maybe the fact that you're killing his sons has something to do with it. Just a thought. OW!"
Oh no, oh, tragedy! Eurymachus went and fell to his death! On my sword, which was conveniently placed in my hand! O, gods, why do you torment us so? Incidentally, I can't help but wonder if his mysterious death had something to do with his questioning the way I run things around here! It's a good thing no one else has any complaints, right?
"...Yessir."
I thought so. Alright boys, let's get cracking. If I know old Pusseidon, we're not getting home until we've killed, robbed, or made love to every obstacle that stands in our way. I've already done two of the three, and it's only morning! Get moving!
"Yessir!"
"You didn't want to come here, sir. We shipwrecked... again."
Did we now? One really has to wonder why that keeps happening. Seems awfully inconvenient.
"I'm sure the fact that you're wearing our sails as a cape has nothing to do with it, sir."
Right, so it has to be something else. Anyone have any clue where we are this time? Please tell me there are no cyclopses, I am so goddamn tired of cyclopses. Cyclopsi. Cyclopseses. They smell awful, and their loot is frankly worthless.
"So maybe you shouldn't spend hours running around killing every one we come across, sir? I mean, Poseidon is mad at you and everything, maybe the fact that you're killing his sons has something to do with it. Just a thought. OW!"
Oh no, oh, tragedy! Eurymachus went and fell to his death! On my sword, which was conveniently placed in my hand! O, gods, why do you torment us so? Incidentally, I can't help but wonder if his mysterious death had something to do with his questioning the way I run things around here! It's a good thing no one else has any complaints, right?
"...Yessir."
I thought so. Alright boys, let's get cracking. If I know old Pusseidon, we're not getting home until we've killed, robbed, or made love to every obstacle that stands in our way. I've already done two of the three, and it's only morning! Get moving!
"Yessir!"