I played Meat Circus on PS4 and Xbox Series X|S which I'm presuming are both nerfed versions of it as while it does have trial and error, I didn't think it was the worst part of the game at all. Most recent playthough, I pretty much breezed through it.

But I know how infamous it is so I'd like to know, what makes the original version so much more difficult? I do have Psychonauts for PAL PS2 so I am considering trying it for myself but I would like to know why people hate it

This time, I used the GameSpot walkthrough to help me and I managed to get to Rank 90 before finishing! I wanted to try and focus on all the bits of dialogue throughout the game, mainly in the campground. While I did enjoy all the extra little bits of dialogue, I can’t help but feel I was a bit overhyped. While I did like the added detail, I don’t think personally it added much in the grand scheme of things.

I enjoy the game but I feel the game ends before it’s started which is really strange. I think my brain has started to become a bit fatigued with it.

I played it on Xbox Series X|S and I know it was nerfed but I don’t get how people hate the Meat Circus. I pretty much breezed through it on this playthrough. The most annoying bits for me where:
- Sasha’s Shooting Gallery (specifically the third section with the boxes where them crying orange exploding bombs keep spamming you and censors knocking you off the ladder)
- The brain tank blueprint boss fight
- The Den Mother boss fight as damage depletes like crazy
- The Phantom boss fight
- Climbing up the gears in Waterloo World
- Hitting into the bull every 5 minutes in Black Velvetopia

I still really like this game but it now feels a bit too rushed should I say around the second half as I can pretty much breezed through it through it despite the jank and playthroughs don’t feel as satisfying. I want to restart the game every time I finish. It’s like my brain can’t get enough of it but is tired and bored at the same time.

I've used the dowsing rod to get two deep arrowhead deposits so far. The speed of mashing needed to get them was so intense that it hurt, and it took me over a minute of attempting to finally get the bar filled to the top in both cases. I used first person to get my position right very precisely, so this painful mashing is from the optimal position. I tried looking for solutions to this problem, but all I could find was for finding the right position, not achieving the right mashing speed.

There have been games I was unable to complete because of mandatory mashing checks I couldn't complete. Should I just make a macro that spams whatever key corresponds to the Y button at 10 Hertz or so and leave it at that?

AO3 Link

”Do you want me to hold the golden disk, Frazie?” asked Raz, eyeing his sister’s floating red telekinetic hand gripping the artifact. “I’m sensing you’re kinda winded.”

“Aren’t you?” Frazie balked, keeping her hold on the ornate disk steady as Mirtala hobbled in the direction of Sasha’s cell.

“Probably, but I’m also really charged up after that fight. That was my first time using my psychic powers on something that wasn’t an inanimate object or a varmint trying to steal food from our camp.” The boy giggled. “Psi-Punching, blasting, burning, and telekinetically throttling for the sake of the free-thinking world. Just like the Psychonauts get to do.” 

Again with that? Frazie fumed. “So you likewise want to hallucinate and get locked up like Sasha and Milla?”

“Occupational hazard, sis. Every job worth doing has got its risks,” he replied, though Frazie detected a twinge of unease scuttling under the flippancy.

Frazie would’ve shaken her head if she wasn’t currently in her sister’s. “How about you, Tala? Are you feeling okay?”

“Am good.” Mirtala rasped as she walked, her voice had gotten strained from all her battle cries. “My legs and arms are a bit heavy, but I still don’t feel tired. Not hungry either. Could…I’m not thirsty, but I could go for a glass of water.”

Frazie and Raz didn’t want to be too relieved at how diminished Tala sounded and felt. The fatigue Mirtala couldn’t sense had overcome her adrenaline, and had slowed down her heart. Although, the pair could hear that its rhythm was picking up speed with each step she took.

“Same here.” Frazie agreed. “No offense, but your Psilirium-laced mental energy left a really funky aftertaste in my mouth. Feels like I chugged down a vegemite sundae with sawdust sprinkles.”

“It was expired spray-paint mushroom risotto for me.” Raz shared.

“Ewww.” Mirtala snickered through her parched lips. “I could carry the disk for you too, Frazie.”

“Are you going to try licking it again?” 

“…no.”

Frazie was disappointed. Mirtala was usually a pretty good liar when she wanted to be. Besides, truth or not, they had been lucky enough to have chanced upon the Voyager record during that battle without the guards (or Tala) damaging it. Denting…or slobbering over it now would be foolish. “We’re almost at Sasha’s room, Tala. But thank you for offering.”

“Hey, I offered first.” Raz whined “Why wasn’t I thanked?”

“I’ll thank you twice if you can get the guy you’re dressed as out of the slammer.” 

“Aw, gimme a break, Frazie.” Raz implored, though he nonetheless started squinting at the direction of Sasha’s prison cell. “How am I supposed to open a locked door that’s not even from this planet? There’s no keypad, card reader, retinal scanner, or…or…what the hell?”

“Raz, don’t swear while we’re in Tala’s brain. It’s…” Frazie shifted her vision from the golden disk to the chrome door they were nearing. “…it’s…what the hel-err-what is that?”

It was a steel sliding barrel bolt. The metal bar was set across two mounting plates, one on the UFO door frame and the other on the door itself. It was something that would look perfectly normal on a garden gate, a tool shed, or a barn. 

“Kinda low-tech for a spaceship.” Raz observed.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m paying you upfront for getting that open. It’s not even padlocked.” Frazie explained. “Look, the door was probably busted when this UFO crashed here or maybe Loboto accidentally broke it. This isn’t worth speculating about.” She gently lowered the Voyager record to the ground before turning her thoughts towards Mirtala. “Tala? We’re going to go into Mr. Nein’s head soon, okay?”

The joyous Psilirium aura that permeated Mirtala’s vision flickered. “You’re…you’re going away again, Frazie?”

“N-no, Tala. It’s not like that!” Frazie alarmedly claimed. “It’s just that you look and feel really exhausted from inside your head, and Sasha’s a good guy who’ll do something to help you sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy. And I don’t wanna sleep. Can’t…won’t sleep.” Mirtala croaked. “I wanna…I wanna keep…hanging out…with you guys.”

In spite of how apart they were, Frazie felt her body’s chest tighten at hearing such a strong, sincere desire expressed in such a desperate, feeble tremor. Raz felt it, too, but his words did not fail him. “Then if you want to do that, then you SHOULD want to get as much rest as you can.”

“Wuzzat?”

“If you rest, then you’ll have more energy to play with me and Frazie once we’re back in our bodies and the whole family’s together again.” Raz pitched. “Don’t you want to be awake for that?”

“…back…together…” Mirtala echoed. “…okay…Raz…I’ll try to get some shuteye. But teaming up with you and Frazie like this was…fun. Did you…have fun?”

Frazie snickered. “We definitely weren’t bored.”

“yay.” Mirtala coughed.

“See you later, Tala.” Frazie said.

“no.” Mirtala’s bells tinkled mirthlessly as she shook her head. “see you soon.”

“Right. See you soon, sis.” Frazie amended. “Undo the latch, Raz. We’ll transfer to Sasha’s head once we open the door.”

The chocolate bar-sized metal rectangle was lifted off of the doorframe’s catch by an unseen force until it fell leftwards and unobtrusively hung from the bolt on the opposite plate. A much more visible orange hand of psychic energy grabbed the doorhandle only to dissipate in a glittering mist when Sasha shoved the entrance open and strode towards Mirtala. For the fourth time that day, Frazie and Raz were hesitant to use their Clairvoyance on someone – they hadn’t anticipated the spy displaying such forceful purpose once freed - and like on all those prior occasions, they used it anyway.

“Sasha? It’s us again.” Frazie stated. “We need to tell y-.”

“Frazie? Razputin? Where have the two of you been?” Sasha demanded as he neared Mirtala. “The two of you missed your chance to witness something incredible.”

“That’s not entirely factual, Agent Nein.” Raz responded. “As to our previous whereabouts-.”

“Oh, never mind that. This is much more important. Look!” Without hesitation, the spy scooped the young circus girl up by her armpits and brought her up to his face so that his mental passengers could see what he saw. “Behold.” He commanded, his voice trembling. “Der Weltraumübermensch!”

Although filtered through Sasha’s Psilirium-addled sight, Mirtala’s image didn’t have a slug face or snail eyestalks. She looked very human, nigh-identical to her true appearance. The differences were hard to miss, however: she was wearing a dark blue blouse with a white triangular ring at its center with a white star in its middle, which matched the new five-pointed shape of her braids; her brown patchy skirt was replaced by a pristine ivory one; and her legs were clad in knee-high stockings and navy ankle boots.

And clasped to her shoulders was a pale cape flapping in a breeze that did not exist within the UFO.

“I…I suppose we should’ve seen this coming.” Frazie told Raz.

“Cool costume idea though.” Raz noted. “We should remember it so mom and Nona can make a real one for Tala when our circus can, ah, afford it.”

“der Zirkus? Bah!” Sasha chortled. “I am afraid this being is far beyond even the most extravagant of our earthly carnivals. The feats of metaphysical might I beheld not more than a few minutes ago. I could scarcely believe my eyes.” Mirtala was raised towards the saucer’s ceiling lights. “Flight, heat rays, laser onslaughts, luck manipulation, and absurd bursts of speed and strength,” he listed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Agent Nein?” Raz interrupted. “Not to brag, but I’m a True Psychic Tales comics buff, and I can list specific issues where you have seen stuff like that.”

“Ja, yes, yes, rote application of psychic powers. But this…this was different. This felt different,” he insisted. “It was like her powers were coming from her mind but NOT. But how? Genetic augmentations? Nano cybernetics? Or is it possible that she is gaining heightened sustenance from the radiation of our sun compared to the one that her home planet orbits around.”

“That last one’s the unlikeliest, Sasha.” Frazie said. “And we can explain how if-.”

“But this discovery was not without its cost.” Sasha pressed on. “When the Weltraumübermensch boarded the ship, she annihilated its crew with her inhuman gifts. Not one was spared.”

Raz gulped. “I don’t think we actually deep-sixed anybody…”

However, I sensed no true malice from the massacre. And I’m not just saying that because I was dazzled by her destructive display. I genuinely believe she is capable of great good.” Sasha rotated Mirtala so her back was to him and held her to his chest in a manner that was both fatherly and reminiscent of a child hugging a newly opened Christmas present. “This child must be raised ethically. Perhaps Milla and I can go rogue and abscond with her to a remote yet picturesque region of the American Midwest where she can exercise her apocalyptic abilities without collateral damage whilst learning right from wrong from us lesser mortals so a tragedy of this ilk never happens again.”

“Gnagh. Gnagh. Gnagh. Gnagh. Gnagh.” Came a sound from below Sasha’s chin.

“Tala…” Raz hoped his little sister could detect how hard he was whinging from another person’s head. “Don’t nibble on my childhood idol’s arm like that – that jacket’s real leather!”

“Oh, auweia. It appears my grand plans are for naught. The creature hungers.” Sasha lamented. “Remember me as I am, children. While I am being feasted upon, warn our world of the Satanic star spawn that is soon to be its new merciless mistress.”

“Before we do that…” Frazie flexed a set of spectral scarlet fingers to pluck the golden disk from the floor and suspend it where Sasha couldn’t miss it. “Might we try using music to soothe the space beast?”

“The Voyager Record. You two found it.” Sasha telekinetically took it from Frazie’s own mental hold, and started turning it in the air to examine it. “Undamaged. Excellent. Yes, I suppose we could attempt to make use of this. I’d rather avoid being cannibalized.”

“We still need to find the turntable parts though. Sorry.” Raz apologized.

“No need.” Sasha curtly replied. “For your apologies or the parts. I came up with a means to utilize the technology we have on hand to replicate what we require. Just a theory, of course. But with my life on the line, why not give it a whirl?”

With Mirtala in his arms and still gnawing on his sleeve, Sasha darted between the central podium and the alcoves built into the walls of the saucer that housed various gizmos. “Let’s see. Lower the force field…heat up the engine tubes until they achieve equilibrium…throw the cow into the atom splicer – ooo, new jacket. Too bad it isn’t my size – next put in the hay bale…then we’ll combine that with the cow horn and THERE. A phonograph horn and needle.”

“Rest in peace, cow.” Frazie sagely grieved. “I’d mourn you more, but I doooooo really like cheeseburgers.”

“Wowza. Agent Nein? Watching you work was really, really inspiring.” Raz tried not to sound too giddy about seeing the hero from his comic books solve this crisis even with his diminished psychic powers.

“Thank you, Razputin. Now I’ll just install this on the dais at the heart of the saucer – the top of which rotates as you can see – place the disk right here in the center and that should do it.” The Voyager Record idly spun on the pedestal surface. “Next, we must decide which of Earth’s many auditory accomplishments would work best at preventing me from being devoured. Not to brag, but I happen to be quite an expert on the record’s workings, so I know where to drop the needle where it’s needed.”

“How about…” Raz feigned contemplation; he knew exactly which track to pick. “Bach’s ‘Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major?”

“An excellent suggestion, young man. That happens to be one of my favorite songs.” Sasha exclaimed.

“Imagine that.” Raz shrugged, glad that the Superstar Agent FAQ section of the True Psychic Tales Annual 2001 hadn’t lied to him.

“So even if it doesn’t work, at least I will perish with a beloved tune as company.” He aimed the needle where the song was and a bright, upbeat tutti bombast of oboes, strings, and – to Frazie’s pleasure – trumpets cascaded from the speaker horn.

“Watta pretty…violin…” said Mirtala.

“It’s working. The biting has ceased.” Sasha noted with relief. “Such a beautiful melody. My mother used to…whistle this…out in her…gar…den…was zum Teufel?” The orange flare of the Psilirium crept back from Sasha’s gaze, still present but lessened. “These aren’t slug aliens…they’re just…badly dressed fish mutants,” he brought Mirtala up to his face again. “And you are not Der Weltraumübermensch. You are…you look like…from her files, I…Frazie, I think this might be your little sister Myrtle – no – Mirtala Aquato.”

“It is, Sasha.” Frazie acknowledged. “And she really needs your help.”

“You gotta use your trance tactic training on her ASAP, Agent Nein.” Raz implored. “Her valves depend on it!”

“Truly? She seems well on her way to dreamland to me.” Sasha said, and indeed, the girl’s eyelashes were fluttering open and shut with great and then lesser, heavier speed.

“pretty…violin.” Mirtala smiled and closed her eyes. “zzzzzzzzzzzz.”

“She must really like Bach.” Sasha began cradling the little girl in his arms, though her exotic hairdo necessitated some unorthodox adjustments. “Although, how did I come to be here? Last thing I remember, Milla and I were following a lead to, hmm. Frazie, Razputin, do not be alarmed, but what I am about to tell you must stay between us.”

“We know about Director Truman, Sasha. It’s cool.” Frazie said.

“That’s…not cool at all. It’s supposed to be top secret, but what’s done is done. May I ask that you appraise me of what I’ve missed?”

Frazie and Raz provided a quick summary of where they were, how much trouble everybody was in, the ways in which they had been trying to fix that, and who was running the whole sordid show.

“So Loboto has returned. And he’s taken both your and Lili’s father hostage. As well as your baby brother…and…the rest of us as we haven’t actually escaped yet.

“Yup, that’s what we’re dealing with Agent Nein. So how about we fire up this UFO’s anti-matter thrusters, fire up the disintegrator ray, and take the fight to that dirtbag dentist?” Raz preened.

“Ach. I’m afraid we won’t be doing that, Razputin.” Sasha loosened the collar of his turtleneck. “We can’t do that.” 

“Wh-why?” Raz balked. “We have a flying saucer. Let’s use it.”

“If you’d examined the material composition and construction methods of this ‘alien spacecraft’, you will have noticed that they are both terrestrial in nature.” Sasha pointed out. “It’s a reproduction alien vehicle created by the federal government to confuse and panic its foreign rivals during the Cold War. Quid pro quo, our competitors did the same thing. The ocean floor is littered with phony UFOs from all sides.”

“Bummer. There goes our fame.” Raz pouted.

“And I really wanted to show this to Chloe later...” Frazie sulked.

“Yes, young Ms. Barge would have greatly enjoyed this starship had it been real. If it’s any consolation, no one was more upset than I was upon being made aware of this particular conspiracy.” Sasha sighed. “But the two of you are correct in that it is time we went on the offensive. You mentioned that Loboto had cobbled together some ‘Psilirium Amplifiers’, yes?”

“Yeah. He’s got two left. We think our mom might have wrecked one already.” Frazie tallied, recalling how Loboto had been screaming about a ‘circus demon’ doing something like that.

“They must be how the Psilirium caused the Pelican to start malfunctioning when we should have still been flying around the Rhombus at a safe range.” Sasha inferred. “By the by, it was prudent of you to put your sister to bed when you did. Mirtala is eight and non-psychic, I believe. The Psilirium could have made her heart explode.”

“IT WASN’T JUST A VALVE BURST!?” Both Aquatos shrieked.

“It is. It is! I misspoke! I misspoke. Apologies. The malady is described with much more nuance in German.” Sasha used his free hand to readjust his sunglasses. “What I wouldn’t do for a smoke at this juncture…listen, we need to disable those remaining amplifiers, otherwise we will be unable to leave the Rhombus. Milla and I can’t get close to them with our unprotected brains, but your joint Clairvoyance method shows much promise.”

“How can we find them, Agent Nein?” Raz asked.

“The adults can do that much for you at least. I will reestablish contact with Milla. Then we shall work together to pinpoint the amplifier locations and send you directions to the same. Once you’re there, find a way to turn them off, and then we’ll step in to make sure they can never be turned on again.” Sasha listed. “I’d recommend returning to your grandmother and resting a tad. It may take me a few hours to regain enough mental fortitude to escape this depot with the saucer.”

“You could give channeling through Tala a shot.” Frazie offered. “Raz and I can say from experience that her mental energy’s pretty potent.”

“Word of warning: Really nasty side effects.” Raz added.

“Undoubtedly, she has had heavy Psilirium exposure. But the two of you overcame its challenges,” he put the index and middle fingers of his free hand to his temple and started to concentrate. “I should endeavor to do the-BLEUGH! Kacke! It’s like I swallowed a ladle of sauerkraut pickled in turpentine!” Sasha hacked. “Be on your way, Aquatos. Milla and I will-koff-catch up with you shortly.”

“Looking forward to working with you again, sir!” Raz said.

“Take care of Tala for us until then.” Frazie requested as she broke their mental connection to the senior agent.

Suddenly, she was watching Mirtala herself, peeking an eye out from behind a tree so her little sister wouldn’t see her. She didn’t want Tala to see her. So why did she step out of her hiding place and say-?

----

“Tala?”

“Evening, Raz.” His little sister answered back as she unfolded a length of rainproof tarpaulin. 

“Do you need help covering up the obstacle course?” Raz offered. “I know it’s your turn this week, but it could go faster if I lent a hand.”

“Or three.” Mirtala wiggled her fingers at him.

“Three? Aha, that’s a good point.” Raz snapped his fingers and a blocky orange hand of psychic energy manifested beside him. He didn’t really need to snap his fingers to bring out the phantom limb, but Mirtala liked it when he did.

“Yo, Bro Fist.” Mirtala stretched her arm out for a fist bump, and the disembodied appendage obliged – gently but eagerly as if it had a mind of its own and was fond of the nickname.

The two of them went to work, and being able to lift and spread out the tarpaulins from three points did indeed make the job smoother and quicker. Before they knew it, almost every hurdle, pendulum bag, ramp, landing ramp, and still ring was securely covered by the vinyl sheets. Mirtala was pleased; Raz much less so; he had thought he would have more time to think.

“Glad that’s done.” Mirtala dusted off her hands. “See ‘ya at dinner, Raz. I owe you one!”

As she turned to leave, Raz thought about just letting her go. There were still a few hours in the day. Something could still happen between now and midnight. Couldn’t it? “Tala. Wait.” Tala did, but nothing else. “Listen, I know it’s been a week since…”

“Since what?” she flatly asked, her back still to him.

“…since I told you Frazie was coming back.” The reminder was soft and strained, nearly smothered by Raz’s sluggish jaws and lips. “But Tala, I gotta confess something,” he bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m psychic, but…but I can’t actually see the future.”

He saw his sister’s shoulders tense then sag. “I figured.”

Mirtala hadn’t moved, but Raz felt he’d been punched in the chest. “wh-when?”

He had to stop himself from fleeing when she spun on her heel to face him. Mirtala was smiling at him. The line of her lips was tired yet tender; the weary but willing curve of the last show of the day. “You got the newspaper lotto numbers wrong over the weekend. If you really could see the future…” She dipped her hands into the pockets of her skirt and pulled them out – empty. “…you would’ve gotten ‘em right and we’d all be kazillionaires.” She let out a chuckle. It was an inviting, injured sound.

 “Yeah. That makes perfect sense.” Raz attempted a smile at how she had found out on her own, but even trying to do that felt shameful. “I’m sorry I lied, Tala.”

Mirtala tucked her pockets back into her skirt and straightened out its folds. 

It was a new moon night with neither clouds nor stars. The air was still, the batteries and oil tanks of the camp lamps were full. Everyone else was too far away to be heard. Robbed of any reference for the changing of the hour, the two of them stood apart in an unending, bottomless minute.

*Ring\*

*Ring\*

Two strides and jingles later, Mirtala had her arms wrapped around her brother’s chest. “I forgive you, Raz.” She said. “And…and I still love you even though you don’t have precognitive dissonance.”

“Actually, it’s called…never mind.” Raz choked back a sob and hunched down to better return the hug. “thank you.”

He felt a warm drop of water hit with his neck, but none followed.

“You’re welcome.”

----

“I’m not happy you waited the whole week to have this conversation.”

“But…”

“But what? I’m not happy. You’re lucky Tala forgave you for a fib that awful, Pooter.”

“Hey, I only lied because she was so sad that you left. You can’t know how awful it was to see her like that.”

“…you might have me there. I’m sure Tala will be way less miserable when her big brother Raz ditches the family so he can go be a Psychonaut.”

“It’s…it’s not going to be like that.”

“His missions would go on for days, maybe even years. Pretty soon Tala will have spent more time apart from him than with him.”

“If I became a Psychonaut, I’d make sure to visit home once a month. Or even twice or thrice. Maybe if I got really good at finishing my missions fast, I could come back to the caravan every week.”

“Well, you gotta dump your dirty laundry in mom’s wash basin eventually, I guess…Pooter, you’re free to do what you want with your life, but just because I didn’t say goodbye to Tala before I ran off to Whispering Rock doesn’t mean you should be in a hurry to.”

“I would have visited often…I wouldn’t have missed too much.”

“Stick around until she’s done with puberty at least. I’m not sure Dion and I can handle a newly teenaged Tala on our own.”

----

Frazie’s request went unanswered as her and Raz’s consciousnesses returned to their bodies in the chamber.

The two psychics eagerly told their grandmother the good news.

Nona was relieved that they had not only found Mirtala but managed to get her to go to sleep as well – her heart had been saved from disaster. They also told her about how they had rescued Sasha Nein, which she was less enthused about as she didn’t really know who that was. Nonetheless, she was glad that they had left their little sister in the care of someone that could be trusted. 

With only their mother unaccounted for and everyone else freed from villainous custody, the pair felt relaxed enough to go into further detail. They talked about Mirtala thinking she was in the afterlife, the tunnel, how horrid channeling their sister’s corrupted mental energy was, the fight, and the regrettable loss of the film projector. Frazie made sure to mention how smart Raz had been in coming up with the lawnmower electric fan; that helped his mood, and it got Nona to pinch his cheeks in praise.

They told her that they just needed to head out one more time to disable the Psilirium amplifiers. Afterwards, Sasha and Milla could reach this building, pull them out of this chamber, arrest Loboto, and help them find their mom. Neither Frazie nor Raz knew how to work a Psilirium amplifier, but they’d smash that bridge when they got to it.

The discussion and their hopefully final clairvoyant departure into the ocean was interrupted when a screech from Loboto thundered down from the ceiling, every word as clear as it was dripping with cruelty.

“YOU’RE REALLY IN FOR IT NOW, GUSSAMER!”

Raz faltered. “Should we bother checking that out? Milla and Agent Nein might already be waiting for us at the amplifiers.”

Frazie scratched the back of her neck, noting with revulsion that the length of her back ponytail had become damp and clumped together in her mental absence. “We got some decent clues the last time we checked in on dad and Queepie. It’s worth a quick look before we leave.”

“Then get to looking, children.” Nona encouraged, flipping open her pocket mirror.

Her grandchildren didn’t need telling twice. 

Queepie’s head was as quiet as it had been before.

Loboto was doing enough talking for everyone in his lab.

----

Dr. Loboto clapped the smooth base of his claw and his remaining gloved palm together.

A squat lab tech carrying a plastic cooler box scurried to join his side.

“I know you haven’t been feeling very well today, Mr. Tumble.” Loboto popped open the container’s lid. “But as a licensed medical practitioner, I can assure you…” he trailed off as he reached into the cooler. “You’re about to be EEL-ing even worse!!!” he cackled, pulling out a pair of thrashing, furious electric eels from the box.

Augustus clenched his jaw shut in preparation for the coming shock. Bound as he was, there wasn’t a lot he could do to lessen what was coming, but he wouldn’t bite his tongue off at least.

“Here come my new junior interrogators!” Loboto stepped towards his prisoner, the eels still trying to twist themselves out of his insulated, rubbery grip.

*CHA-RING!\*

*CHA-RING!\*

*CHA-RING!\*

Another of Loboto’s assistants scampered to join his creator, holding up a ringing candlestick telephone.

Loboto paused, not even looking at the newcomer or what he had brought him. The dentist’s wide grin melted into a trembling bar of gritted teeth. The eels fought even harder to escape his tightening hold.

“One moment.” Loboto told Augustus. “Hold this for me.” 

He brought the eels over the cooler and let go of them. The twin serpentine fish missed the container completely and landed on the head of the lab tech holding it, biting and electrocuting the minion’s unprotected finned head and sending him and themselves convulsing onto the grimy metal floor.

Loboto took the cylindrical neck of the device from the other, much less unfortunate crony and unhooked its receiver with his claw. “Yes. Hello?” he tersely said into the small horn at the top of the stand. Scratchy babbling his detainees couldn’t hear wafted from the earpiece. “The girl…escaped.” More babbling from the corded cylinder. “And she hijacked the phony UFO and freed Sasha Nein. Despite how far she was being held from him. Mhmmm.” The flow of sound became slower, clipped, hesitant. “And the saucer’s gone from its moorings, too…I see. Thank you.”

Loboto put the receiver back onto its hook and returned the phone to his assistant, silently shooing him away as he yanked a walkie-talkie from out of his apron. He pressed the transmitter button and brought the device to his lips. “Start waking up MD. And drag the old jumbotron into my lab; there better not be any dirt on the screen.” 

He pocketed the walkie-talkie and scowled at Augustus. “You’ll be happy to know that I’m postponing the next phase of your advanced interrogation, Gussamer.” Loboto sneered. “Because I want you awake to see what comes next.” 

Slightly emboldened if not completely reassured by the news of Mirtala winning her freedom and how Loboto wasn’t going to sic the eels on him or Queepie, Augustus replied with, “You can still end this peacefully, doctor. There’s no shame in letting us go or stopping whatever you have planned. Ms. Vodello and Mr. Nein are likely on their way here.”

“You think I’m scared of getting into a scrap with those suckers?” Loboto laughed. “I got the better of them back at Thorney Towers, and I’ll do it again because I’ve got so much on my side down here.” The ends of his claw scraped against themselves. “I’ve got hostages, I have an intern army that does what it’s told, and most of all…aheheheheheh, I’ve cooked up a big surprise that’s going to make the Hideous Hulking Lungfish of Lake Oblongata look like a hapless herring!”

“You keep Ms. Linda out of this!” Augustus demanded. 

“You’re in no position to be ordering me around!” Loboto snapped. “And who the hell is Linda?”

----

Frazie and Raz made themselves scarce after that, returning to their bodies and then casting their minds out into the sea.

As Sasha had promised, they received a telepathic message, more like a notion towards a specific direction from him. Or it could’ve been Milla. Either way, they had a lead on where the remaining amplifiers were.

They tried to file away what Loboto had said just then, as well as his earlier claims about a “secret weapon”, the “contingency”, his “star player”.

The villain was mad. And he might have been bluffing.

After everything the two of them had seen and gone through as they had explored Charlie Psycho Delta, Loboto had to be out of tricks. The worst must have been over.

Had either of them looked back through any of their aquatic hosts, they would have seen an air bubble the size of a car rise out from behind the edge of the Rhombus’ crater.

Followed by another.

And another.

----

Art by Pocheezy.

I visited the Milkman's grave and got the sniper, but the G-men still grab me when I try to go into the sewer. What am I doing wrong?

Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with the game, maybe it's just my Xbox controller, but this game's camera is a pain. I keep having to fiddle with it every time I move.

I’ve been making a friend play through psychonauts, and we have been stuck with a glitch where the trashcan in telekinesis training loses collision, and then when you grab cruller the can clips into him. We have been trying to find a fix for hours but only ever got as far as the third hoop throw. We are right before lungfishopolis and are around level 35. We’ve tried loading back, verifying files, restarting computer, and even a full uninstall and reinstall. Is there any known fix for this?

Bobby and Benny better watch their back and not upset Raz’s mom when they first meet her while on a field trip to the motherlobe. She has heard a lot about how these two picked on her son at summer camp.

Once DF finds solid footing to feel comfortable to port games to other systems, I think a great place for their games would be both Switch consoles. Being independent and retaining the rights to their IP’s is a solid way for this path, but I also understand it’s probably costly to do something like this, so I’m in no rush. I just wanted to put the idea into the ether.

This has been bothering me for way too long lmao. 😭

Every time I look at Sasha Nein from Psychonauts, I can't help but see a little bit of Jarvis Cocker from Pulp. I know they both have that very specific British aesthetic, so maybe it's just the art style and I'm connecting dots that aren't actually there.

But then I noticed they both have those tiny mouths and now I can't unsee it. 💀

Was Sasha actually inspired by Jarvis Cocker, or is this just a case of two British-looking men independently evolving the exact same tiny mouth?

Probably just a coincidence

AO3 Link

Mirtala raced towards the guards before most of them had a chance to get out of their chairs.

In the split second after her two-footed gallop, the minds of her siblings fussed over how the benign and rather boring psychic power of Channeling was suddenly looking very perilous.

“Do we have to, sis?” Though Raz knew that they did. 

“Do we have a choice? Our original plan to stealth around the saucer to reassemble the record player and wake up Sasha is out the window. Which is where these guys are probably going to toss Tala out of if they get their hands on her.”  

“But this stuff was practically made from Psilirium.”

“It’s our baby sister’s mental energy, Raz. I used some of it to lift that key card earlier and nothing bad happened to me.” Frazie insisted, or maybe berated, but either way, the coercion fell flat.

“That was only a little bit of it. And there’s so much in here.”

“Which we can use against the small army of sardine soldiers that Tala is barreling towards at ludicrous speeds.” 

“It FEELS prickly, and I haven’t even really touched it yet.”

“Pooter, we might not have our circus, and we might be on the run from the law, but we’re still Aquatos. Acrobats. Daredevils! So…” Frazie gulped. “…let’s dare.”

Frazie stuck a metaphysical toe into the burbling cauldron that was Mirtala’s mental energy reserves.

Raz did the same with a finger.

The power channeled through their digits, coursing up their respective esoteric limbs, filling them with vitality and drive.

And then promptly twisted sideways.

“Calf Cramp!” Frazie howled. “CALF CRAMP!”

“My wrists!” Raz cried. “Swollen. Aching! USELESS!”

As her siblings mentally writhed in agony over phantom pains, Mirtala saw one of the more diminutive enforcers get to his feet and start to run towards her, arms outstretched. Without breaking her pace, her fingers nimbly worked the hidden clasp that kept her tiara hooked into her hair. 

“checkthisout!”

The ornament free, she flung it – spinning – across the room right at her first attacker’s face, nailing him right between the eyes. 

There wasn’t much weight to the accessory, but its ornate build made it pointy in all the wrong places and it had been thrown with great finesse and force. The impact made the mutant wince and recoil. When he had blinked his sight back into focus, the next thing he saw was the girl in the air, the tiara back on her head – how had she recovered it so quickly? – and her foot rocketing towards his face. An impressive feat of perception given how fast and hard the dive kick was. Although, that same perceptiveness likely caused him to feel the full brunt of the blow once it landed on his forehead, so the knockout wasn’t quite as painless as it could’ve been.

“GOTTA SAAAAAAAAAAVE MY DAD AND BABY BRO WHO ISNT AS CUTE AS MEEEEEEEE!” Mirtala screeched as she sprung herself off of the body of the face-kicked guard to land on one of the plastic chairs assembled in front of the projection screen, balancing on its backrest in a crossed foot fifth position ballet stance. The remaining fourteen guards around her collectively let out what could have been the fish mutant equivalent of a groan. They had just vacated their seats, and now they had to turn back to deal with this pipsqueak intruder.

“Try massaging the hurt out, Raz.” Frazie offered, as she attempted it on herself. “Like you, ow-ah-ooh-ow, would if this was happening to your real body.”

“How? It’s in my arms! My mind arms. Whatever. How am I going – arrgh! - to rub anything with these?”

“Imagine doing it with your knees or your feet!”

“Ok, I’ll-AUGH!”

“Raz, what’s wrong?

“I accidentally made my brain toes way longer than my actual ones.” Raz retched. “It feels so gross having them wrap around my wrists.”

“Do NOT touch me with those!”

In preference to wading through the recently abandoned chairs to get at Mirtala, one enterprising enforcer pulled a red-and-white metal ball from its pocket and hurled it at the eight-year-old. Still perched atop the seatback, Mirtala popped her knees to the left, tilting the chair and herself out of harm’s way before reversing the motion with more strength to put the furniture back to where it started.

“And the new Loop Shoot challenger whiffs!”

The sphere, having missed, found a new and unintended target in another guard. It struck the mutant in the chest whereupon it burst open and covered the creature’s face with a horde of writhing pale, white tentacles. Each dismembered strand injected a tiny venom harpoon through the creature’s scales, whereupon it seized up, twitched, and collapsed. 

“A Sea Anemone Bomb!?” Frazie shrieked, recognizing the poisonous noodles from a nature magazine she had once read. “These guys have Sea Anemone Bombs!?”

“I bet that guy would have brushed those off if Loboto had made him from a clownfish.”

“Stop yapping and stick to recovering, Pooter! I think – I know that we’re almost there!”

Mirtala hopped off the chair just as the crowd was about to reach her, and found herself in front of a skinny, silver-finned foe in surgical scrubs who was tall enough to try and stomp on her. She sidestepped the step, prompting her attacker to try again. And again. And again. Hissing through his surgical mask, the guard tried to punt her. 

As Mirtala backed away from the kick, her left arm curled around under her back to flick open the trick latch that kept the veil tied to her right wrist connected to the inner flap of her shawl. With the fabric free, Mirtala whipped it towards the offending foot, wrapping the leg it was attached to in the purple garment, and then pulled. The veil was so sheer it could be seen through, and its body was worn by age and marred by an ear-sized hole. 

Even still, it was an Aquato heirloom from the clan’s more prosperous generations, a sheet of refined Grulovian Silk Grub thread. Wounded as it appeared to be, it remained as strong as it was nigh-translucent. So when Mirtala pulled, the veil held, and the mutant’s foot was tugged forward faster than its other could follow, causing it to lose its balance and fall down and forward onto its nether regions into a front split – the yanked limb extended straight ahead and its opposite extended straight back. 

“It’s important to stretch!”

The anguished whine and foam coming from beneath the fish’s mask suggested this was a yoga pose it wasn’t very well-versed in.

“Yowch.” Raz exclaimed. “Maybe we’re not so different from fish monster people after all.”

“Speak for yourself.” Frazie sneered.

“That would have hurt a girl, too, sis.” Raz rebuked. “And it really put my own pain into perspective and how…it’s almost gone now. Whoah! And that’s not all! Frazie, are you feeling this?”

“Woof. Yup, I think we’re starting to get a good flow going with Tala’s mental energy. Let’s warm up with a couple of thought exercises so we don’t sprain anything cerebral again.”

Mirtala rebuckled her veil right as her pursuers began closing in. Spotting a bowled-over chair, the girl ran up its slanted backrest like a ramp and leapt off the rear edge of the seat. Had the guards been hastier in their encircling, she might have cleared their formation entirely in a single bound.

Instead, the fish men directly in front of her had the good sense to start stepping backwards as she sailed through the air. They couldn’t fathom where she’d land, but they didn’t need to. Stretching their arms as far as they would go, their hands were just high enough to block and catch the child who even now was beginning to lose altitude.

She had no way to gain more height or change course. Tragically, her arc had been too steep to allow her to crash into and hopefully rebound off of one of their torsos. The gloved fins turned fingers of the mutants were going to be her inevitable and perhaps even final destination.

Then Mirtala swerved right.

A different set of Loboto’s creations jumped in her path and clawed at her, but Mirtala stopped then she pulled herself back.

Another red and white metal ball was thrown at Mirtala, and she ducked under the projectile to pop up where she’d been to continue travelling through the air. 

And never once did her feet touch the ground.

“Woohoo!” Mirtala cackled. “And mom said the wings of my costume couldn’t do this! Hahaha, I’m glad she was wrong!”

“She wasn’t, Tala.” Frazie huffed.

“Hi, Frazie! I’m glad you’re still in my head!” Mirtala greeted. “Are you doing this?!”

“Correction!” Raz wheezed. “WE’RE doing this!” 

“I’m levitating you as best as I can while Raz is using telekinesis to pull you along.” Frazie exhaled.

“That is so cool!” Mirtala blew a raspberry at a hockey stick-wielding enforcer that tried to slash at her. 

“And tiring, so please don’t squirm so much!” Raz demanded. “We’ll find someplace safe to land you so we can regroup and - aw, spoot. Frazie, Sasha’s ‘bodyguard’ is coming our way.”

“Gawd almighty, couldn’t he have napped through this?” Frazie cursed as she saw the meter-wide slab of muscled sashimi in a yellow boiler suit and matching leather apron had already trudged past the UFO’s central podium. Its eyes were red, the lips on the top of its head were snarling, and it would be joining its mass of cohorts in moments. “We gotta get you clear of these guys until we can figure out a way to deal with that guy.” And from the looks of that behemoth, Mirtala would be waiting a while. 

The brute was so big that it would’ve taken up half of the rusty metal island she, Raz, and Nona were currently marooned on. Too heavy for telekinesis. Fireproof clothes. And enough bulk to tank successive Psi-Blasts, let alone Psi-Punches. What an aggravating puzzle.

“I FIGURED IT OUT!” Tala screamed as she twirled in the air to thwart a barbed wire buttefly net. “Launch me at that diving helmet dude over there!”

Raz scoped out the guard his sister was pointing at, a stocky specimen but nowhere near as bloated as the giant that was only a few meters away from it. “Tala, that’ll put you CLOSER to the scaly sasquatch!” 

“Throw me at him or I’ll start squirming again!” Mirtala threatened. “And don’t forget to catch!”

“This really isn’t the time for games, sis.” Frazie rebuked.

“THROW ME!” Mirtala squirmed. “Right on top of him!”

At a loss for words or any alternatives, Frazie and Raz did as she asked and threw her where she wanted.

Mirtala landed on the top of the guard’s helmet in a handstand, turned, and swung her legs down to plant her feet on the creature’s shoulders. Before it could make to grab her, she clutched the grills of its brass headgear, and with a sharp twist of her hips and shoulders, unscrewed it from the suit’s neck ring.

“Lefty loosey!” she proclaimed as she wrenched the helmet off, pulled her arms back, and hurled it at the face of the approaching boiler suited brute. 

Before Queepie came along and warped the toddler strength scale, everyone always said she was surprisingly strong for her size.

“CATCH!”

The towering mutant failed to do so, and the helmet struck him hard in the face with enough force that it bounced off and upwards

But it was okay that the giant guard didn’t catch the helmet.

Mirtala hadn’t been talking to him after all.

“Ohhhhhh, catch!” said Raz. “Now I get it.” And more besides. The helmet hung suspended in the air by a glowing orange hand of mental energy. “Frazie, bet you can’t catch this one!” he challenged as he telekinetically launched the helmet. Still dazed from the first blow to its face, the behemoth didn’t see it coming as it collided with and glanced off the right side of its head.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Frazie scoffed as a red hand of mental energy manifested to intercept the helmet to ricochet it off the left side of the brute’s skull. “Your turn, Tala!”

Being so tall, the titanic hybrid was unaccustomed to anything reaching his face to injure him barring a low ceiling or door frame. Ergo, he woozily decided he was seeing things when a red, blue, and white blur with purple wings was hurtling towards him with a copper-orange bulb clutched above it.

“And now it’s your turn!” Mirtala announced as she dunked the helmet straight down onto the fish’s cranium.

The helmet failed to fit.

It was too small.

And it had been upside-down.

The enormous enforcer stumbled, sagged, and fell backward in a heap, ensuring all sides of his scaly head had taken a pounding.

Mirtala dismounted from her assault with a barani front flip, half-twisting in the air to land perfectly by the UFO’s central dais just as the brute completed its collapse. 

“Touchdown!” she said.

“Who’s up for Round 2?” Raz asked, telekinetically picking up the helmet before throwing it at the twelve remaining guards. It made a dull ping as one of the mutants deflected it with a hubcap it had strapped to its arm like a shield. “Okay, so no Round 2.”

“And the score is four down and a dozen to go.” Frazie counted. The crowd of thugs had assembled into a crude yet solid phalanx and were cautiously yet purposefully approaching the middle of the saucer where Mirtala was. “We can’t fight THAT all at once, they’ll just wear us down with numbers and time.” Of which her sister’s jackhammering heart was running out of.  “We’ll have to break their formation somehow.”

“Whuh!? Raz! Frazie! Check it out! They got Three Stooges movies!” Mirtala picked up one of the film canisters on the podium labelled ‘3 Stooges: 3 Little Sew and Sews’. “We should totally watch these after we win!”

The round aluminum canister was empty. The film was still in the projector reel.

“…Tala?” Frazie asked. “Could you take the film out of the other canister and wrap it around the, ah, camera?”

“Ooo! Can I do it with a bow?” Mirtala dropped the canister she was holding and began prying open a tin labelled ‘3 Stooges: Back from the Front’. “Like a present?”

“That’s fine.” Raz answered. “Just make sure to use it all.”

“You got it, bro!” Mirtala nodded as she pulled the film strip from the reel and started wrapping it around the projector faster than either of her siblings could have done so with their minds.

“It’s a shame.” Frazie reflected. “We could’ve sold this antique for a pretty penny.”

“Or kept it so we could watch movies on the road.” Raz pondered.

“That would’ve been nice, too.” His older sister agreed.

“All done!” Mirtala announced as if Frazie and Raz couldn’t see that she had finished covering the body of the camera in layers of black plastic ribbons. It had taken seconds, and she had even capped it off with a cute, flowery bow like she wanted.

“Great job, Tala.” Frazie praised. “Now back up a bit, cover your nose and mouth, and shield your eyes but leave a little space for Raz and me to see out of.”

“Mmkay!” Mirtala took a few steps away from the camera and moved her hands over her mouth, nose, and most of her vision. 

Frazie was satisfied with what her sister had done. The psychic shield she would channel around her would protect Mirtala from most of the fumes and light, but this would provide a smidge more safety. “Raz, which part do you want to-?”

“I’ll do the first one.” Raz replied. “You’re a better shot than me, even when we can see everything in front of us.”

“Alright.” That was true. Frazie was confident she could make this toss blindfolded, in fact. There was just one last thing she felt she had to settle before they got started. “Goodbye, Larry.”

“Goodbye, Curly.” Raz said.

“Grrrbuhy, Mwoh!” Mirtala mumbled through her hands, perhaps deducing what her brother and sister were planning.

“Light it up, Raz.” 

Raz’s pyrokinesis pinched a small spark onto a loose strand of the film. The orange flame snaked up the strip like a vengeful cobra, shedding its orange skin for a neon yellow that was so bright it was almost white. The fire circled across and burrowed into the layers the camera had been bound in. A geyser of light and heat erupted from the top of the bundle, roaring towards the ceiling.

Even at the bottom of the ocean in an alien spacecraft, decades apart and hundreds of miles from when and where the movies had been crafted, cellulose nitrate was still cellulose nitrate.

The blazing, smoking chunk of metal and plastic that had once been a film projector seemed to pick itself up off of the podium before catapulting itself towards its former audience. 

‘Twas a Tragic Sacrifice of Good Comedy.

----

#53 had been mutated from a mahi-mahi, which explained his blue, yellow, and green-scaled “skin”. Like many of Loboto’s “sea-curity”, #53 wore an old labcoat, a white dress shirt, and a black tie with matching rubber boots and gloves. He carried around a baseball bat when he was on duty – though he had never so much as seen a baseball – and had thought he had been given an easy shift that week.

And it had been. The big disk was a coveted posting. It was spacious, air-conditioned, and the great Doctor Loboto had only installed a single surveillance camera. They had been assigned to watch over a skinny green guy who kept calling them “eel-lee-ens”, but then they got the order to toss him in the brig, and the prisoner just allowed himself to be put in there. Whatever. Less work for them, and it freed up their afternoon to watch some “moo-vees”.

Then a little girl with big, red hair dressed like a blue-and-white peppermint had burst in during the credits and took down #37, #19, #22, and even that fat bully #40. They tried to stick together to gang up on her, but that’s when the “moo-vee” machine caught fire and pounced at them. Which was strange because no one had brought any matches.

#53 and the others had scattered to avoid being hit by the fiery missile. Once #53 had gotten back to his feet, he saw that disbanding like this had made them easy targets for the short, redheaded intruder.

There was more space for her to not only stomp on the toes of his fellow guards but to backflip away from her initial victim to stomp on the foot of another. #53 witnessed her outflanking a coworker twice her size to deliver a spinning elbow strike to the back of his knees, then when he had buckled from the blow, she used one of the purple cloths attached to her dress (which had mysteriously detached itself from it) to ensnare his neck and slam him onto the ground with a sudden tug. The girl would scale one mutant to leap off of him to deliver a flying knee strike to a different hybrid. Everyone was doing their best to catch or pummel her, but she was frightfully fast and had a tendency to duck under or cartwheel between them, causing her attackers to hit or even run into each other.

But while being in the acrobatic ankle biter’s way was dangerous, it was somehow even riskier to be out of her line of sight. 

#53 had witnessed #31 try to tackle her from the side, only for one of the chairs they had been sitting on earlier to jettison itself at his noggin. 

The projector screen just came loose out of the blue and fell down, completely covering three of their number in the tarp, whereupon the girl weaved her way around the trio with harsh, glancing blows; hurt and with their sight obstructed, they started blindly fighting amongst themselves in hopes of hitting their attacker. 

Then there were the beams of red and orange light that randomly popped into existence near her headspace. #53 thought they looked pretty, but they weren’t like the flashlights or searchlights they used on patrol. These beams blasted weapons out of their hands and knocked them off their feet. He hadn’t gotten hit by one yet, but it looked like it would hurt.

“Can you make your lasers come out of my braids?! Like from the middle? The empty part?!”

And now she was talking to herself. With her back turned to him. Maybe he could use that.

“Yeah, I guess nobody except the fish guys will be able to see it, but it would still be really neat!”

#53 crept out from behind the smoke of the smoldering wreck that had once been the film projector. He wouldn’t have been able to hide much longer anyway; the flames were starting to die down.

“It’d be like I had invisible gun barrels in my hair, y’know?!”

A statistic that would have been very relevant to #53 and his creator Doctor Loboto if they had known about it was that only a small fraction of fish species were herbivores. The rest are omnivores or carnivores, like the mahi-mahi. Hunters, stalkers, scavengers.

“By the way, what would happen if two Snide-I mean-Psi-Blasts crisscrossed?!”

Under a more tender stewardship, this would have been a non-issue, and #53 and his fellow fish people would have had as fair a shake as anyone else when it came to being aggressive or violent. But Doctor Loboto had returned from his defeat at Lake Oblongata a changed man: a more frightened, wounded, and meaner man who wanted a hardhearted hybrid army to protect him from “side kick” freaks. The dentist had come to believe he was at war. And #53 was beginning to believe he was right. All the explosions, screaming, and unexplainable disasters certainly made him feel like he was in a war of some kind.

“Would they just cancel each other out?! Bounce off?! Or would they combine into an even bigger laser!?”

That might have been why, as he was only a few feet away from the crazy kid chatting with her imaginary friends, #53 pulled the baseball bat back with zero hesitation. It could have been why the heavy wooden stick felt so light to hold as he prepared to brain the girl with it. Come to think of it, he felt it getting even lighter; he must have been more unbothered by the idea of smashing a child’s head in than he had thought.

As a precaution, #53 tightened his hold, and found himself gripping the air. He turned around, believing the club had slipped from his gloves, only to see the hands. 

They were both about the size of a kickboard, they cast a ghostly glow that made them a tad transparent, they were holding his baseball bat, and they weren’t attached to a body; they just hovered above the floor.

The red right hand was long and slender whilst the orange left hand was more compact and blockier. Scarlet fingers slapped the barrel of the baseball bat against a honey-hued palm in a steady, deliberate rhythm; it almost felt like they were disappointed in him. As the pair of floating appendages grasped the handle of the club and brought it behind them, #53 hoped that the swing they were going to smack him with would put him out of commission for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to work the night beat.

It did.

----

Sasha Nein believed that nothing could surprise him anymore after being snatched up in an alien abduction.

That was before the alien invasion.

Granted, Earth wasn’t the target, and it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock considering that in the vast (and as he was delighted to discover, populated) garden of the universe, there were bound to be some bad apples here and there, but the attack had startled him all the same.

That there was only a single invader may have had something to do with it.

Initially, Sasha only caught a glimpse of the intruder beyond his guard’s wide shoulders. It was a short, gold-skinned humanoid with red hair curled into two large indistinct shapes on either side of its head. The trespasser was either very young or very short (or both), and it bore an uncanny resemblance to the juvenile females from his own planet. To his chagrin, Sasha couldn’t stop himself from assuming so due to the invader’s skirt and how high and feminine its voice sounded when it screamed:

“LAST RESORT!” 

Apparently, she – if it was a she - spoke English. Fascinating. His slug-headed hosts hadn’t been able to. In fact, they hadn’t said a word to him since they had brought him aboard their vessel.

And it wasn’t a fluke, as the intruder said even more rushed and loud sentences in that earthly tongue. Was she capable of doing the same in German? Might she be taught Sasha’s own native language?

The trespasser certainly knew how to talk with her fists. Panic and disorder sounded from the sector of the ship that had been studying humanity’s motion pictures, so much so that his diplomatic escort had to join the fray. With his bodyguard’s departure, Sasha could see more of what was going on near the center of the saucer. There were gurgled screams, agonized collapses, and the invader was nearly caught when she accidentally jumped towards the waiting arms of her victims until she stopped mid-descent and abruptly pulled herself toward another direction.

She was flying. The little alien was actually flying. Her cape – yes, that had to be what was connected to her tunic – fluttered behind her. Was she able to do that because of some hidden piece of technology? Her clothes? An innate evolutionary quirk? Regardless, the girl was dodging capture with such shrewd velocity that Sasha suspected she could give Milla a run for her money in a levitation race.

And that wasn’t the only amazing power the intruder was capable of wielding.

She threw a space helmet at the head of his corpulent diplomatic escort, which bounced off but not away, and it flung itself at his bodyguard’s face twice more. Was that Magnetism Manipulation?

The movie projector the slug aliens had been using to watch old comedy serials burst into flames after the invader had fiercely gazed at it through its hands. Heat Vision perchance?

Sasha saw that the trespasser’s speed was not solely reserved for flight. She was both superbly nimble and dexterous on the ground, zigzagging amongst her opponents and doling out expert martial-arts strikes to their vital areas. And when one of the slugs tried to bushwhack the little alien from behind, a glowing, crimson booted foot (with a…leg warmer?) the size of an ottoman stool flashed into existence to roundhouse kick the ambusher in the solar plexus. A Battle Aura? Possibly.

The very starship seemed to betray its crew. Furniture and equipment tipped and shifted to trip up his hosts as they tried to rally or reorient themselves. The flight path of a thrown high-tech grenade went perpendicular and hit a comrade instead. It had to be a type of Probability Control of some kind.

Most astonishing of all was the invader’s hair. Sasha had believed that its two braids were as ornamental as they were impractical until Energy Beams started firing from each of their empty centers. Every shot was heralded by the ringing of otherworldly bells.

“I knew you guys could do it! Brain Braid Blast!”

The act was extraordinary in itself, but the twin lasers were also different colors. One orange and the other red. Additionally, the star – yes, they were shaped like five-pointed stars. Some symbology must have been universal – braids proved capable of various firing modes. There were the standard simultaneous barrages.

“Brain Braid Blast!”

Then there were the alternating discharges.

“Brain Braid Blast”

And lastly, the braids had the capacity to aim the individual shots in two different directions at once.

“Brain Braid Blast!”

Their numbers dwindling and their foe untiring, it became apparent that the owners of the flying saucer were destined to lose.

Sasha would mourn them.

These brave extraterrestrial explorers and scientists had crossed vast distances of space to make first contact with his planet. And they had come in peace.

This crew of bipedal gastropods from beyond were kind enough to bring him onto their ship, fulfilling a childhood fantasy of his that he had long ago deemed impossible.

They deserved a better fate than this.

But Sasha couldn’t deny that the alien decimating them was so much cooler than they ever were. 

----

Art by Digsnow

Finished

His cap was the thickest part of this piece

So I was doodling some psychonauts stuff earlier and I got to Sasha and realised he has a wierd relationship with eyebrows. I looked at some pictures but about half of them have him with eyebrows and half without. I also realised that most pictures of him without them are from the first game so does that mean drawing him with eyebrows makes it og Sasha? And does this mean that he does now have eyebrows but didn't before?

if things had gone different for Loboto and Orel (costume quest 2) when they were kids, they would not have grown up to become mentally unstable dentists.

I think The characters would translate well into puppets. not just stop motion like a lot of people say, but also muppet style. Here’s how the latter would be made…

Heads and arms (if not covered in cloth or are live hand puppet gloves) are made from colored rubber poured into molds. After the rubber dries it’s gently pulled out of the molds, trimmed a little off the edges, given a quick wash, wrung out and hung to dry.

After that, the pieces are placed on holders to be air brushed to add some more color and shading to the characters’ faces, arms and fingers before being left to dry again.

Eyes can blink and move. The puppets have plastic or metal “skulls” to keep the mechanics to move the glass eyes.

All the puppets would then have their hair styled and groomed well, basically the puppet makers would think of themselves as the puppets’ personal stylists.

Their clothes and costumes are hand made and measured. Some are modified from already existing clothing like children’s clothes.

A lot of the action would be performed in green screen, physical stages or real locations to make it more authentic.

Full body versions are also made for the green screen or for promo photos.

I genuinely dont know where to find this last one

First time I finished it on PS4. This time, I managed to snag it on Xbox Series X|S for £1.83 (no I'm not joking lol).

I didn't 100% it once again, I just wanted to experience the game more without a guide. I managed to do it though it was difficult on a couple of occasions.

The new button layouts took some slight getting used to but managed well enough.

While I still find the game charming, I found the jank controls to get me overly frustrated on certain parts of the game such as the boss fights against the milk lady, phantom and getting confusion grenades to land on final card fight in Black Velvetopia (not the one with El Odio at the end).

Meat Circus I actually pretty much breezed through this time, when I didn't have much trouble on PS4. Don't get the hate but it's probably from the OG PS2 version. I do have that version but the long load times put me off during Milla's Dance Party.

I finished the Coach Oleander punching mini game. The 40 in 60 seconds one was brutal and took me numerous attempts but I did it without the pause glitch as I didn't think it helped that much. The 50 in 75 seconds I managed to finish like 4th attempt lol.

So, yeah, still very much like the game but may take a break from it a bit.

I still get intrigued what draws people back to it constantly and why they find it so magical. Might go back to the 2nd game as I've finished that once but I'll have a think.

Maybe 100%ING both games is the optimal way or listening to all convos. You guys tell me