I recently read Reverend Anthony's dibs on Nick, and decided that I to should place my arbitrary sense of ownership on a character I feel I can connect with.

I call dibs on Coach

Here's why:

He loves Chocolate

I love chocolate too! As a child I was never allowed to eat chocolate because my father was a dentist and believed chocolate was the devil. The next day I ran away, and traveled the world looking for the best chocolate. I eventually grew up and made a wonderful factory. I made the best candy in the world, until that bastard Slugworth started sending spies to steal my recipes. I had to fire all my employees, and enslave indigenous people of the amazon to do all the work. Fucking Slugworth.

Anyways, Like Coach I have a fondness for that silky smooth bar of fermented cocoa seed.

We both use to live in nice neighborhoods


God damn gang bangers. I used to be able to where a mini skirt and halter top without fear of getting raped, but as soon as some thugs appear I have to wrap my self in them ugly ass sweats again. I'll never get me a good brotha wearing that slop, and I know I did not spend $500 on my hair so it can be counteracted with some nasty ass clothing. What's a sister to do.

Also I get more pumped up when Coach shouts his neighborhood line, than any other part in the trailer. Probably has something to do with that booming voice of his.

I can relate


Have you ever tried to run up thirty flight of stairs? It's hard, but good ol' coach pushes on. Of course if there was a helicopter of chocolate waiting for me, I think I could make it too. Not just that though. I used to be fat. Sure I was a kid, and fat kids are nature's way of making joke. I remember one time these kids pinned me down and stared slapping my belly. Then they threw pastries at me, and me eat them. God my childhood was depressing....

And lastly:



He puts Ellis in his place. Oh yeah

No likes Ellis. I forsee him being the butt of many jokes to come.

Literally Fuck Ellis

The Chewie and Nelson Perspective is a project between Mr.Chewie and Volkarin (Nelson). We will be exclusively reviewing games with Co-op play, as well commenting on what it was like to play one with one another. There will be both a Chewie Edition and a Nelson Edition of our reviews under our respective c-blogs

My experience with Demon's souls has been wonderful. I'll begin with the character customization, both aesthetically and functionally. There are a breadth of options to which you can customize your character, and I'm sure if you played around with it enough you could make some fun creations. My only gripe was the lack of beard options. I could make a measly excuse for a goatee that looked more like my character was eating chocolate than a actual facial hair. Luckily, not having a beard didn't affect the game too much. The stat customization is pretty standard at first. You choose an origin class, each of which have certain perks. I personally chose the Royalty class for two reasons; It was the only class that started at level one, and I like the way the circlet looked on my character.

I had a difficult time at first getting used to the "hard-core" nature of the game, but I was soon able to fight my way through hordes of enemies easily. As i gathered more souls I decided it'd be a good time to raise some stats and upgrade the weaponry. As soon as I saw the luck stat I decided thats where my loyalty would lie. So that's how my Luck/Magic based character came into existence.


Once you figure out what to do this guy is surprisingly easy

I personally found this game ridiculously fun. Every boss fight was memorable, every new encounter challenging, and though the story is rarely mentioned, it too was enjoyable. Each level does a good job of presenting challenges that require different strategies from the last, my favorite being the prison area of 3-1. The games is usually eerily silent most of the time, which I actually enjoyed. The silence adds a sort of tension that preludes danger. Kind of like the calm before the storm. The music that did play, exclusively during most boss fights, was both appropriate and fun to listen to.

The Co- Op is a little different, and takes some time to get used to. For not having voice chat it does work surprisingly well. The PvP on the other hand I found really enjoyable. There is nothing more satisfying to me than killing some one right after they have killed a boss. Plus it's super fun! You know what say, humans ARE best prey.

All in all this a great game that takes me back to a time, when beating a game meant something. I recommend this game to everyone, regardless of whether or not you enjoy rape in the form of repeated digital deaths.

Now for my favorite part :

PLAYING WITH NELSON!

You guys should all know, Nelson is a phenomenal person to play with. He would consistently took hits for me, while I stayed far behind and enjoyed the amazing scenery. We had countless adventures. I think I'll share one with you.

The setting is the Prison of Hope ( A.K.A. World 3-1)
Nelson and I had just escaped braved the terror that haunted deep inside the hellish antechamber ironically named "Hope". Despair surrounded us as we bolted towards the doors of a nearby church. I looked at him as we ran. I looked at the man who practically held my life in his hands. I looked at the man I called friend. If it wasn't for his very capable hands I would have undoubtedly been penetrated by the long slimy tendrils of the octopus headed guards that patrolled the halls. Suddenly, an arrow flew past me, but from where. There was no one in sight. We continued to sprint. Slowly a dark figure formed out the shadows, and charged us. We fought, and eventually it fell. Nelson waved his arms in victory. Once the celebration was over we proceeded to enter the church, and that's when she a appeared. A beautiful goddess clad in black descended from the ceiling, giggling softly. Nelson prepared for battle.

" No!", I yelled through the online telephone service Skype, " She can't be evil"

" What the f@#K are you talking about", gargled Nelson, " She's the boss"

The poor fool had been taken by the demons. This was obviously the princess that Captain Falcon had sent us to save. Nelson was lost, and I know what I had to do. I prepared to attack, but unsurprisingly they had no effect on him.

" Stop dicking around, and help asshole", he roared. He was gone. The Demons had consumed him. He struck the princess. He struck her repeatedly. He struck her so hard that it could almost be considered sexual.I tried to stop him. I tried to protect the princess. Fortunately when the got hurt enough she made multiple copies of herself. That kinda clued me in that she wasn't a princess, but was actually Fool's Idol . We both ran to the side, and prepared a strategy.

We had to draw out the original, but who ever drew the fire would surely die. I volunteered, but Nelson stopped me. He grabbed my arm, looked me in the eyes, and mumbled, " No Chewie! You have your whole life ahead of you! There's no reason for you to die". We embraced for the first and last time. As we let each other go he whispers in my ear Live life for the both of us. In a flash he was out in the open, rays of energy hitting him from all directions, and that when she revealed herself. On the far end of the room The Fool's Idol sent out a lightning ball far to large for any clone to create. A single tear feel from my cheek as Nelson's charred corpse hit the floor.

I leaped into action, running from pillar to pillar. I was within running distance. I was going to make it. Then I stepped on some sort of glyph that stunned me, and I died.....


Mr. Chewie ~<3
Link to the Nelson Edition

Demon's Souls has been out for a good week or so, and I have thoroughly enjoyed playing it. Apart from the challenging game play, memorable boss fights, and essential ( but fun) grinding one things stuck out for me. The Crestfallen Warrior. The following will contain "minor" spoilers regarding said character, so if you care about this character as much as I do stop reading now.

Most of those who have played this game probably remember the Crestfallen Warrior as the first person they meet in the Nexus, and would characterize him as a patronizing, depressed, failure who's only purpose is to discourage you. However, I say that all those that think this should be ashamed. They belittle this poor man's efforts, and everything he represents. To me he is probably the most important influential NPC you'll meet in this game.

As I mentioned before there is a lot more to this man than what his words reveal, He is essentially " What Could Have Been". The Crestfallen Warrior was a man just like any one of us, but suddenly the responsibility of being a hero was thrust upon him. He probably fought, and he probably fought well, but something happened to him that made him just want to give up. Something horrific that completely shattered his will. This could be his "death", and the loss of his body. Whether or not he truly lost his body, or just forgot where it was is irrelevant. Imagine the trauma. Being forced to continue this mission that he probably didn't even want to do even after his body is lost. Being forced to fight for cause, as noble as it may be, even after you die. Bound to this fate like a slave, forever tolling away, hoping someday you can taste freedom, but he knew he would never taste freedom. Such a realization would break most will, and it did just that. He gave up, fell from grace, and became a shell of the man he once was. Then to add insult to injury, he is quickly replaced by the character. Of course this poor character is going to be rude an morose.

He also serves to motivate us. Motivate us to never give up and let doubt or anguish consume us. He shows us how important a little thing like hope can be.


He may be weary, but he won't take getting attacked lightly. He can take quite a few hits.

This downtrodden warrior of light served as a mentor, and an ally. Through out my journey I found comfort in speaking with the man I had replaced. Never did he show jealousy ( perhaps he was too caught up in his own emotional torment), and I always found myself eager to return to the Nexus to hear his next comment. Then it began. First he began to go on and on about his body, and how it was probably long gone. Then he began forget. Everything. I desperately searched for his body, but eventually I returned to find nothing but the soul of a storied soldier. He had killed himself to spare himself, and us, from the demon which would undoubtedly consume him. I grasped his soul and brought into the air, releasing him from his torment. Though I never knew his name, I called him friend.

A nice little song that inspires me

For those of you who don't know french, today's title translates to Beard of Poverty. You may be asking yourself, " Why such a melancholy title?". I find myself asking this too. It turns out there was more to the saga that is my beard. What was supposed to be story of victory has thus far ended in defeat. I haven't given up, though, I haven't given. Still I fight so that one day my whiskered brethren, and I can have equality. Still I fight for acceptance. Prepare to cry, because it's about to get all kinds of depressing up in here.


First picture I got when I searched hobo. Isn't that beard glorious?

As you know I have come to terms with my new beard repulsing the ladies, and ,now the my beard is growing past the "Hollywood" look, it has done that to a certain extent. However to my surprise I was confronted by a young lady who ran a sort of host club near the campus. For those of you who don't know, a host club is a common form of night time entertainment in the lands of the Far East, an idea just arriving to the shores of North America. Customers ( male or female) will come and ask for a host or hostess, respectively Once seated with their host they will go on a sort of pseudo date. The host or hostess provides charm, attention, and possibly affection. Anyways, the young lady had been working in this club going on for a couple years now, but failed to have any male hosts. Her boss, a bizarre old women, ordered her to find some men that would be interested. Thus, for a reason I'm still not sure of, she approached me with the job offer. The pay was meager, but 30% of any purchase made by the customer would go into my pay check as some sort of glorified tip. Although I was probably a last resort choice, I accepted. The next day I was to report to the club for a quick interview, and a brief run-down of my responsibilities.


Look at all those beautiful men... Strange how none have a beard, eh?

I was ecstatic. Someone had thought that I as worthy of a job dependent on looks even though I was sporting a soon-to-be glorious man-beard. That evening I put on my best shirt, and favorite pair of shiny shoes. I was looking like a star, with a beard mind you. I left for the club, with a hop in my step and a twinkle in my eye. As I swung open the doors I entered a place of wonderment. There were roughly 5-6 girls treating men who either weren't the best looking people, or suffered from severe social disorders to drinks, and making them feel loved. " This is perfect for me", I thought, " I get to make people happy". Anyways, I was called to the office for my interview. I was somewhat nervous at this point, but to my joy everything went smoothly. The owner found my up-beat attitude and love for most things refreshing. The job was mine. At least it should have been. As I was shown out the door I heard her make a quick comment to me. A comment that completely killed the buzz. I could still hear it ringing in my head.

" Make sure you shave before you come to work tomorrow"


That makes me feel better

Turns out I was beautiful, but my beard wasn't. Once again I was upstaged by this mysterious thing called beauty. I began to think about this idea of beauty, and wonder if it plagued all the bearded men in history. So I did some research, which took me to the classical period in Greece, where art began to pursue this idea of beauty. The paintings and sculptures created during antiquity were exemplified by the search of this " Ideal", which was most commonly portrayed through the kouros, to my dismay. The kouros are any and all statues of young men. These were meant to be the best of men, both physically and characteristically. One thing the all had in common; no beards. Of all the pictures I saw, not single on of the "ideal young men" had any sign of facial hair. I tried to rationalize, saying that maybe these men were too young to grow facial hair. That wasn't he case. These statues depicted men from the ages of 16-20, and unless you have an extra X chromosome, you're gonna be growing some fuzz.


I'm as sad as that kid

Turns out that I was wrong before. Beards were never beautiful. They never were considered "pretty". Within this cesspool of depression I did find a glimmer of hope, and that glimmer is what kept me from putting a blade to my chin and giving up. These same Greek artists who portrayed these "ideal" men as beardless, also portrayed their Gods with nice long beards! Gods the respected! Gods they loved! Gods they worshiped! Once again I came to terms with the fact that I wouldn't thought of as beautiful, but now I can look forward to the dignity and aura of respect that comes with my beard. To everyone growing a beard, don't give up! We may not be gorgeous, but God dammit we are MEN! ... Also we can look like some sort of Godly high level wizard now! Thuper Exciting!!!!

Mr.Chewie ~<3

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e53e-J7yJII

I am so excited for this movie! There's even a new song by Randy Newman! Got to love that man's passionate songs about friendship!

In any case, enjoy !

Those are my cats. They have no relevance to this, but they sure do catch the eye. NVGR

I'll start this off by asking you all a question. Do you remember a time when a man was allowed to be a man? Back in the good ol' days before most of us were born, a beard represented something. It showed that you were a man, it showed you were to be repsected, and , if flamboyant enough, it showed that you were powerful. Nowadays the glorious chin whiskers that meant so much are now frowned upon by most and repulse even more. With that, you may be asking why I mention the past glory of the man-beard. Well, sit down as I regale you with my tale.

At the beginning of this past summer I learned that I would be leaving the city of Houston for college in Canada. I've lived in Houston for 17 years, so this was bound to be a huge change. In order to commemorate this change, and as a physical manifestation of my passage into man hood, I decided that I would grow a beard. My mother, who is a avid supporter of my " pretty boy" look, was naturally against my new life style. " No, it will look horrible", she'd say, " You'll look like a beautiful homeless man". She tried and tried, but I persevered. I wasn't go to live in her world for fear. Shortly after that conversation I left home, and begun my trip up to Canada.


Fun Trip....

After my exceptionally uneventful trip, my young beardling was taking somewhat of a form. Granted it was nowhere near long enough, but I definitely had that " Movie Star" cropped beard look going on for me. So here I was, in Canada, looking like pretentious Hollywood wannabe, and in a brand new environment. My beardling made me distinguished, and was surprisingly turning a few heads. I was never good with the ladies, but the jolly feel of Canada and the freedom that came with facial hair gave me a sort of boost to charisma. I was making friends left and right, even getting a date with a decently attractive girl. The relationship ended rather quickly though. On our first "date", if you could call it that, I brought up the fact that I was growing a full beard. She didn't take to kindly to it. She said that I looked much better with it shorter. I ended it.


What an a-hole......

So at this I had lost the support of my mother and , as expected, was doomed to live a life sans female. However, my will was strong. Soon I discovered a new friend in my Biology Lab Partner. We'll call him Thomas for reference sake. Anyways Thomas is a first year student who is originally from Ohio. Thus we had the grace of being raised in America in common. What made Thomas special was that he sported a rather fetching beard, and was still growing it. Furthermore, he revealed that he had a special lady friend back in Ohio who actually requested he grow the beard. Just then, when my hopes of a bearded society were dim, I felt the warm light of hope overtook me. He was truly a free man. His family couldn't care less about his beard ( My mom is probably just insane), AND he had a significant relationship with a girl. No, not a girl. A woman! My epiphany led me to only one conclusion. The beard disappeared from our lives because of girls. Girls and their need to have gorgeous well groomed men. So I have a message to all the girls out there with boyfriends, boy toys, or significant guy buddies, and that message is this: Stop being girls, and start being women. I used to fit into your tight pant, almost girl arch type, but no more. I have chosen that . As a women you'll realize that your man having a beard is more than an excuse to not buy razors. It means that he is free! It means that he demands respect! And above all else; It means that he his truly worthy of the title Man. Also, He can look like a really High level Wizard!!!!!!!!!

<3~ Mr. Chewie