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Just your average long winded, princess saving, boss beating, enemy defeating, demon summoning, item finding, pokemon catching, world ending, life ruining, puzzle solving, star creating, lazy assassin savior attorney to the gods.

Wii FC Jpn: 6170.4894.3407.0968

PSN: trueb7ue

Favorite Games:


-No More Heroes/NMH2:DS

-Mass Effect/ME2

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No.. it was my--



I had to share this with the community.

I thought it was amazing.

Let me preface this article with one quick statement: I am normally not a fan of Rockstar or their games. I do not support the lifestyles they promote, I usually find their characters tripe, their plots tiring and bland, and feel that they are highly overrated. Then why am I writing this article, you ask? Simple, I played a Rockstar game. A great Rockstar game, an amazing Rockstar game, a game I would never have ever expected myself to be even talking about. If you couldn't tell by those descriptions, I am talking about Red Dead Redemption (or maybe the images gave it away, I don't know).

Red Dead Redemption was a game I was told by the general pubic... err public* I just "HAD TO PLAY." So grudgingly I did. And by the end of it I discovered something amazing, the main character John Marston and myself were one in the same (outside of the whole I'm real and he's not... OR AM I?). But do not fret my dear reader I wont leave you questioning how that happened (time travel? A biographical? Rockstar stole your likeness?), that's right par'dner/amigo/creepy guy with the lube hoping for pictures of boobies or muff shots (that's right, I see you there... Go ahead, apply it. It will be one of those articles) saddle up, you're about to find out how.



As stated prior I was told I *had* to play this game. "amazing," "awesome," "a western," "if you want to see the light of day again: GET TO PLAYING," are just a few examples of what people were saying about this damn game. Every time I would simply respond with /emote_rolleyes and go back to sucking at Super Ken and Ryu Online IV, maybe giving a slight, "Perhaps" in between my daily masochistic beat down sessions. Then finally it became unbearable so I, utilizing my astounding level of persuasion, convinced a website to send me a copy (GameFLY is SO my bitch.) so I could finally shut everyone up by shitting on their apparently new favorite game. Before I did however, I did do a little research. Spoiler-free research of course! Well turns out if you didn't already know (I AIN'T GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN, SPOILARS!) RDR is a free roaming mission based title with all sorts of extras such as outfits, side quests, and time wasting derpy things like horseshoes.

So, being the grouchy gamer forced to play something I had no interest in, I said to myself "ONLY THE MAIN QUESTS" and that's what I did. Focused completely on the main story, little to no side quest completion, no outfits gained, no horseshoes thrown, and maybe one bounty. John had to kill his friends, I had to get back to my life. We were in this together, and we wanted to get out of this fast. Think of the movie Twins.. no wait, don't. Think of Tomorrow Never Dies.. No, okay go ahead and think about Twins, that is a great movie. Anyways, we were stuck together whether we liked it or not, I was helping him, he was helping me. But just like another great movie, Marmaduke, we learn all too late that it's hard to let go after the adventure... Thus begun the adventure into New Austin for the both of us.


Seriously? I had to go to Mexico now too? Mexico, home of the real wild west (south?) apparently, I was pissed off beyond belief that I was lead to believe I was done; WE were done! We had bundled a ragtag gang of weirdos, ala Mass Effect 2, and completed an amazing end-of-game-worthy battle against Bill Williamson and his gang at Fort Mercer. And the one surviving member of the Williamson gang has the gall to let me know "YOUR WILLIAMSON IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE." I should have filled his eye sockets with lead just like every Toad that said the same thing to Mario, the trigger happy bastard. I was so shocked by this, I swear John and I both thought the same thing, 'This goddamn shit isn't over yet!?' Truth be told, I was unhappy with what had happened up till that point, nothing was standing out to me. I cared nothing for the characters, cared nothing about racing across the beautifully rendered 'land of opportunity' (see:wasteland) that is New Austin. And now I had to go to Mexico too?! Fuck this. John and I both felt betrayed, in different ways, Rockstar betrayed me as the intelligence gathered betrayed John.

Anyways, as I grinded my teeth quietly raging to myself I got on that raft with Irish and fought the bandidos on the rio praying that there would be something different in Mexico, instead of helping able bodied people do things they more than likely would have done themselves. But maybe a quick mission and get the fuck back to John's family and my family of games waiting for me. I was dead wrong, Red Dead Wrong... (ehehe..)


So fast forward a bit, now we're on top of a mountain fighting alongside the US army and it's snowing like crazy. John and I had ended the Mexican Revolution, hung out with Sam Elliot, killed both Bill Williamson and Javier Escuella (Bonus kill!), seized a train/protected the same train/stole the train again, watched an innocent die, and watched the vicious and telegraphed tyrant cycle start again. Now we are north of New Austin chasing after John's previous leader Edward Blake, I mean Dutch Van Der Linde, and his new gang of Native Americans, (badasses pretty much) because the government is doing what the government does - fucking their own promises! Once again the end was in sight and it was yanked out right from under us. But now, now we're here on this mountain top with Dutch cornered, both John and I once again thinking again, "Kill this douche then we depart ways. You get your life back and I get mine." Dutch reenacts the beginning of the Watchmen solo-style and throws himself off of the cliff. The government goons show up, slap John on the back and send him home where his family is waiting.

The End.

We start riding home listening to some tired sounding guy sing a song expecting both the embrace of John's family for him and the credits for me. "Not so fast friend." John says to me, "lets ride for one more chapter, then... then its over." Its then I realize, small and faint, that perhaps we are the same person? I shake the feeling, grunt, and move on. We had worked for this, for John it was days but for me it was mere hours. But together we had accomplished great things, helped many people, killed many people, and now it was all over. Now instead of John and I helping people, its my turn to help John.


As John spends quality time with his family and his deadbeat "uncle," who is in seriously need of a napkin, doing things that we've done now for what it feels countless times I realize something is amiss. This is too perfect, too normal. RDR is built on tragedy and conflict, yet the only tragedy that has happened so far is old chunk beard let the livestock go while John was gone. Then it happens. Jack goes up the mountain to fight a bear and unlike his papa he isn't blessed with the ability to beat the odds and gets his ass kicked. John saves the day like he has so many times before, using his hero on his waist he kills the grisly and everyone goes home happy (minus one godless killing machine). But then it happens.

John is having a sensitive moment with his son talking about flying machines and books or some shit and gets interrupted by vomit man and his (vomit covered, I'm sure) binoculars, letting us know that some bad mother fuckers be on the horizon. "Oh shit, the rest of Dutch's gang?! Banditos?! Friends of that bear we just killed?! Worse: Its the fucking US Army here for John. John then quietly tells Jack to get in the house with his mother while both he and I and uncle too apparently prepare for the final battle. Everyone's luck runs out sometime, John's has finally too.


John Marsden died that day fighting the US army, but saved his family in the process leading his son Jack to become a man in his father's own image. I didn't play the post-John game. I shut it off quietly, returned the game to the mailbox, and reflected. I did so for about 3 days, then went to my local money taker, GameStop, and bought myself a copy. Why so? Because, well just like a corny after school special I learned something about myself. John Marston and I were one in the same and I didn't realize it, we both wanted to get out of our situation fast, I just wanted it faster. Together we were put together not by our choice but by persuasion from others we were steered the same. We both helped a whole shitload of people, both of us grunting and moving right along. We killed a fuck-ton together too. John completed his goal before I completed mine, yet I was the one left with feelings of regret as if I had lost a piece of myself, a friend. Longing to return to John Marston and New Austin, I happily bought RDR and added it to my collection, my first Rockstar title ever and am enjoying my 2nd and full completion playthrough.

and that's how the Terminator went back in time to save Christmas. The end.
Photo Photo Photo

I AM!!

Just got my confirmed invite to the tournament! I am so excited I cant even handle it... "But Sir B7ue how did you manage to become so intimidatingly awesome in so short of a time?" Shut up before I break your teeth with a freshwater trout. I have always been this awesome, its just time someone noticed..

Anyways, the way to win an invite was by sending capcom a message at the capcom-unity site and explain to them why you should receive said invite.

here is a copy of my message:

(pardon the lack of spell check, I dont spell for you, I dont spell for anyone)

Dear whomever it may concern,

Let me start with this - I will suplex you. No seriously, El Bueno does not kid…

Now that I have that out of the way (and your attention), I would like for you to consider my modest proposal as to why you should send me an invite to your fancy little preview event (If you prefer the non-TL;DR version, scroll to the final paragraph)

First off, I will reluctantly admit it. I suck at Street Fighter, always have. But with the announcement of Super Street Fighter IV I knew I could finally have my chance to shine. When I first saw El Fuerte in SFIV I knew I finally had a home in your well established franchise. I did everything I could to get better, I even bought that amazingly awesome SFIV madcatz-special-edition-fightstick-amazing-piece-of-heaven for my hard earned pounds of flesh. Sadly no matter what, my luchadore spirit never quite connected with the frantic ADHD-stricken fighter supreme that is Fuerte. The announcement of Super Street Fighter IV gives me hope however, it means a chance at rebirth. A chance for this phoenix to rise from the ashes of terrible defeats (one time, no joke my record was 2-30-1.. Yeah seriously I sucked straight nachos) with a improved move list, better combo opportunities, and hopefully some more awesome suplexes. Lots of suplexes SSF IV is going to be amazing, I can feel it in my joystick…

Secondly, think about it - what a better way to represent your remixed game by having some of the best players and some of the worst. Imagine what a statement it would make if I was able to actually go toe to toe with much more improved players and give an exciting fight not by just button mashing but by having an equal learning advantage. Not going to lie, I will probably suck more than Seth’s cheap ying-yang belly button-torso-thing but it will be the most entertaining suckage that anyone will witness. So if you invite 6 of the USA’s best fighters and decide to throw me a bone and invite me as well - I guarantee to beat everyone (false confidence, but confidence none the less!) with nothing but perfects (ok, now that’s just facetious…) but finish every match with an ultra combo (setting up for amazing failure) and beat my chest like a gorilla. How’s that?

Lastly - I own several luchador masks and will gladly wear one the entire tournament. No seriously, I collect them. When I mentioned that I practically bought SFIV just to beat in Ken’s face with a flying suplex spin around into a nose breaking kick, I had a reason. Its kind of like a split personality or something but I have the worlds greatest hero living within me. His name is El Bueno and he was the one who promptly stated that I would suplex you and he (I am?) is not joking. I have enough masks to wear one everyday for a normal work week. I will include a picture of the classic Bueno mask along with this message. Seriously, think of how awesome it would be to have a luchador fighting against someone on stage. Epic doesn’t even cut it.

Personally I believe you should invite me to this little tournament. Not because I am the greatest street fighter there is (frankly I’m more of a Dan than a Ryu in proper terms) but I am incredibly excited and have the highest expectations that SSFIV will live up to everything hardcore fans and non alike can agree on. I love Street Fighter, I love fighting games, and most of all I love you Capcom.

Have my babies and invite me to this amazing once in a lifetime event please.

and completed it with a wonderful photo taken from my DSi:

Am I a whore for awesome things? Perhaps, yes. But regardless I am going to this tournament of street fighting kings and will represent Destructoid while there..

Wish me luck, I will post my results with photos and details on everything I see/play/and squeeze.

5 Barry White clones agree Capcom = sex.

I've been a gamer since the 16-bit era (I know, so young and naive) so my opinions are at the least "slightly valid right? i remember the days when multiplayer required 1 TV, 2+ controllers, and 1+ more person than yourself in front of that TV. Those were the golden days of multiplayer, when it made sense and was fun. Well here's the deal, I hate a trend that is starting to overtake the gaming universe so badly in fact that i figured I'd come to you guys and tell you about it: I hate with a passion, online multiplayer. But why, you may ask yourself, I love online multiplayer it's bringing us together! Shut up. we weren't friends before shooting the fuck at each other or with each other thanks in part to some cable and some numbers, data and a bandwidth and what makes you think I'll be your friend when its over? Call me misanthropic, call me a shut in, or even call me a n00b i don't give a rat's ass. I am a part of a small faction of us gamers that still exists, I am a single player split-screener.

THE ONSET - when it's the most important selling feature of the game

How many times have you made a purchase just based on the gimmick, YOU AGAINST THE WORLD. If that's you, I hate you. Why would you wanna play a game that is basically the theory of evolution wrapped in a candy covered pixelated shell? Now don't get me wrong, I am very guilty of purchasing one or more games because of that exact reason (I just don't like to admit it). I'm also pointing at the online co-op games, screw you (you are the same problem but attempt to make it okay by saying "BUT WE ARR WORKING TOGETHER LAWL"). But honestly, are you that cut off from the world to realize that is exactly what you do when you do anything in the real world? Competition and survival of the fittest is everywhere in our society whether it's in your job, playing Russian roulette, or making a sandwich. Everyone wants to come out on top, it's human nature. Why do you want to bring that into the world that you inhabit to enjoy yourself? I don't get it and nor will I try.

THE TUMOR - Gamers who are addicted.

You. Yeah you. Assholes at the top of the leaderboards, go get a life. It's not hard and don't give me that bullshit that "hey man, dis is mah life alright?!" bullshit. You weren't born in front of the game system and taught only to play. I'm also looking at you people who shut yourselves out from the rest of the world and play for days on end. I understand going outside for you is never going to happen (if you did, your skin would sizzle, it's alright) If by chance that this is your career, playing video games and what not, then by all means i take my statement back. But for all you dickwads who constantly play and play and play and if the world was ending in an hour you would say to yourself "well shit that gives me at least another hour!" fuck you. The number one problem in our world is extremists, and guess what? They come in all forms, including the ones who have controllers or keyboards attached to their wrists. I'm not saying don't play the shit out of a game you've been holding out for or what, but what i am saying is don't let it consume your life.

THE PAIN - twelve year olds.

The most cliche thing on my list, I know but still it's a problem and it needs to go away. Maybe if we eradicate this generation of 12-year-somethings and try again, I wont hate the youth of this generation with such a passion. They've learned that they can hide behind this wall of screen and internet and be the most disrespectful little shits that make us all unhappy to share a species with them. Now all of you older gamers, do you remember while playing games like Goldeneye, Mario Kart, or even Tekken shouting at each other "FUCK SHIT BITCH EATSHIT (racial slurs here pls) FUCKING TWAT!!!" Of course you do, but you whispered it. Wanna know why? Because mom or pop would have broke your jaw had they heard you shouting it, let alone saying it to another human being. I think we can solve this problem easily, install an age detecting laser into every online mulitplayer game. If anyone who is too young or acts like an immature shit grabs it, the laser activates and it fires a single pure shot of energy right between the eyes. Totally humane and 100% satisfaction guaranteed.


I have nothing against being a total nerd and loving your character or whatever. but what i do have a problem with (and I've already covered this to a degree) is the people who lose track and become their character. We've all seen the videos, those WoW weddings and funerals are cute guys really, but wholly unnecessary and stupid. I understand and see it as a culture all of its own or that you have to commit to certain cult-like rituals to gain items but still. Have we lost our connection in our own race that far that we can't even have enjoyable "role playing" situations in our real world? Honestly we're all in an RPG and its called life. Sorry to say, there are no patches for it. But seriously, people committing suicide over their characters? Playing themselves to death? It pains me further to note that a vast majority of MMO players are highly intelligent individuals.. Please guys, use those brains.

THE LAST BIRTHDAY - VOIP and the d-bags who use it.

I am appalled, really. Its the same problem as those little shit 12 year olds, people who are too immature and decide to let their mouths shit everywhere. That's right, you racist, sexist, and vulgar shits on the Xbox live, I'm talking to you, go fuck yourselves. Granted my opinion is no less valid than yours, and by all means we share the same rights. But hey, were you touched by a priest of another race while you were a child then slapped in the mouth by a foul mouthed parent everyday of your life? If so, then I feel terrible for you and can attempt to understand why you are the way you are. But seriously the other 99% of you twats. It's just like your parents used to say, "If you cant say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

THE DEATH BED - What it is doing to our universe.

Video games have come a long way. In practically 30 years, gaming has come from an idle pastime to something that is on the verge of being considered a respectable art. A verge that we are slowly falling away from thanks in part to everything I've talked about here. We have a bucket full of dicks who want nothing more than to pull the plug on video gaming forever and every time someone does a study on video games, the common online fps is pointed at. Yes I know the GTA controversies, and I agree it was only a matter of time. But as someone who is a hopeful game dev, I hope for our sake we can turn this around. It prides me to say that I am a gamer and that video gaming has been an important factor in who I am today. But imagine if we turn ourselves around, one day video games could be revered as wondrous pieces of art, it's a beautiful and optimistic dream. But I love it.

THE HOPE FOR A CURE - A better tomorrow.

I never said I hate mutiplayer, lets get that straight right now. But I think in this world of online multiplayer, we're losing touch of whats really important, the experience. How many of you still have friends come over and play a split screen, any of the Smash Bros series, or even just take turns "co-op" playing through a single player game? If a lot of you reply to this with a resounding yes, I will be pleasantly surprised.

Here's the deal folks, I know this has been a long read and I know a general populous will disagree with me. But I honestly hope that this blog will get you thinking.

"Son, you are destined to do great things.."

Yeah right.

Here I am now in total darkness, I haven't seen the light of day in weeks and quite frankly I may actually be dead, but I'm not sure. If only my father could see me now. Oh I'm supposed to introduce myself right? I'm a Pokemon, more precisely a Magikarp. Any Pokemon trainers out there reading this already know, I am destined to do nothing but splash.. Sure if I'm lucky I may make it to that level I may learn tackle and a few levels after that I could evolve. But nine times out of ten, I and a majority of my species end up in this same fate of unknown existence. We Magikarp have it hard, and there is no love out there for the likes of us..

ACT 1: Magikarp-e diem

It was a nice sunny day in June, the cold water felt nice on my scales. I swam fast through the stream I was residing in just to feel the bubbles in my whiskers, today was perfect and nothing could change that. As I swam by I overheard two Shellder gossiping about a recent tragedy. I guess some Tentacool got too close to a boat's propeller and well.. The sea was red with poisonous jelly. (For most of you humans reading this, I am sure you are taken back that I knew what a boat was, well we Pokemon are a lot more intelligent than you give us credit for) But even that sad tale couldn't get me down today. I swam for a bit longer until my tail was tired and drifted to a nice little patch of algae for a quick snack. But right before I began to dine, I noticed something much more delicious was delicately dancing just inches above me. It was a baby Wurmple, struggling and wriggling with the current. It seemed unconscious but still alive.

A perfect treat.

I swam towards it curiously and making sure it wasn't a tricky Ditto or something more sinister. So far so good, it looked clean and clear. With one small gulp I swallowed the young Pokemon whole and happily began to swim back to the patch of algae. All of the sudden, I felt a tug on my lip 'what the--!' the tug soon became a pull and I was yanked out of the water by my lips. It was a lure, and I fell right for it.

ACT 2: Suffocation, Deprivation, Annihilation.

The outside air is warm and unforgiving to us fish-types, for several reasons. Reason 1. Its very dry outside of the water (Don't know if you've noticed) 2. I prefer to use gills as my primary breathing mechanism and it is a H2O only supporter. 3. I'M A FUCKING FISH. I suddenly came back down to Earth with a sickening "THUD" and began flopping upon the soft but terribly warm grass. A young boy who looked about 10 was starring intently into this small red device.. it was talking in a metallic voice, "In the distant past, it was somewhat stronger than the horribly weak descendants that exist today." "Aww, man. Well I heard from Prof. Oak that you can evolve into something super powerful all I gotta do is catch you!" the boy shouted at me. My consciousness was fading fast, either I was about to die or this kid.. wait what is he doing!? He's reaching for his belt and some orb in his hand was growing rapidly in size. Suddenly my heart grew cold and my spine fin rigid, I knew exactly what it was, a word that strikes fear into hearts of all Pokemon (big and small).


However this pokeball wouldn't be my prison. It would instead belong to a much stronger and much larger Pokemon. A Mightyena. My flopping was beginning to tire me out more so I attempted the only attack I could manage on land, splash! As I flopped for my life the small amount of water left on my body began to splash all over the Mightyena, what I considered injuring was merely pissing it off. "Use scratch attack, Mightyena!" The Mightyena walked over to me, and with one paw held me and my only attack down to the warm grass. with a grunt and a slight of its other paw it slashed me right across the face. The last thing I can remember was this small round shadow flying towards me.. My vision faded, and I fainted.

ACT 3: A Rock Hard Defeat

When I awoke countless hours later I was sitting inside some strange and euphoric chamber. There was no water, however I could breathe without a problem and it felt as if my strength was regaining more and more! the chamber I was in was large and was constantly flashing a healing light, a light tune accompanied the light. Suddenly it stopped and I heard voices, it was a soft and soothing voice and a very familiar voice. I barely caught "Thank you, your Pokemon are fighting fit!" and it suddenly felt as if the world was moving. I knew where I was, inside a pokeball and that pokeball belonged to the boy with the Mightyena. A few hours ago I would be dreading the thought but for some reason right now all I could think about was proving myself and helping this kid. I don't quite know what has come over me but seriously, I feel like a new Pokemon (Its hard to explain).

I drifted off to sleep sometime after and was awoke abruptly by the sensation of spinning! "GO MAGIKARP! I CHOOSE YOU!" the young trainer shouted. This was my chance, and i would make sure to prove my worth. I felt a strange warm and almost dismantling feeling as my new home seemed to get smaller and smaller further and further. Suddenly it stopped and there I was lying on the ground again, except this time I could breathe. "GO ONIX!" another voice shouted, this one sounding much older and as if the speaker was squinting. "GRAAAARGH" a booming voice called out, I flopped to see my opponent and was instantly frozen with fear. (I'm not going to bother discribing it, just know it was terrifying) "MAGIKARP USE...! uhmm.. wait, what attacks do you have?" Finally my chance to shine! Quickly I sprung into action and began sweating profusely from my scales, produced enough water and began splashing.

The Onix was either in a lot of pain or incredibly in a lot of pain because it and its trainer kept making a weird choking noise that sounded like laughter. But it couldnt be, was it!? I stopped splashing to listen and only heard one more thing, "oh god hahahaha ONIX baahahahah use hehe USE TACKLE!!" This is my last memory of being outside in the open air, a large rock formation coming straight down upon me...

I was knocked out.

EPILOGUE: Do All Pokemon Go to Heaven?

So that's my tale. No pun intended. From what i assume (from my limited knowledge of Pokemon training and the rules of it all) I believe I have been "boxed." Its dark and lonely here and frankly I haven't seen the light of day in what feels like years. I think I have been forgotten, perhaps both the young lad and myself were killed by the Onix that day. I am not sure, but what I am sure of is..

I am and always have been utterly useless.


DISCLAIMER: Due to me being a crazed gamer (who is delicious and sexy in every way) I bought a Japanese import Nintendo Wii just to bring you people a review of the outrageous arcade smash hit Muscle Kōshinkyoku, because I love you.
DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER: There's a big fat lie somewhere in that last disclaimer. Find it and win.
DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER: The lie isn't about the delicious and sexy in every way. That is nothin but trufax yo' trufax.

Muscle Kōshinkyoku, or Muscle March as it's know stateside, is one of the greatest things to come out of Japan since... well since... uhh... since... Pandas and macaroni salad. Regardless, the idea of 4 muscle bound mr/ms universes chasing down savagely a fastidious sticky fingered (bad choice of words but I will never be silenced) bastard who only wants to steal the most valuable thing known to mankind. Powdered Protein. The one thing kings, emperors, and the forests of world have all sought and murdered for since the beginning of time. If it has cells in it, it needs that fucking protein. It is your job, as the meekest of the muscle madmen, to make sure that the thief does not complete his goal NO MATTER WHAT I took the role of that very superb superhero and began the march to save humanity and the protein.


Muscle March features 2 modes (I dont read Japanese so I'm going to make them up): 'Save the protein, save the world' and 'Chase the gold muscular god through space and time to save the protein.' The first mode is the arcade classic in which a team that weighs more than a ton in muscle chases a perp with protein. The second is merely a terrible attempt at multiplayer "take turns" gameplay. bleh.. Anyways the first mode has 3 different worlds which include: the city, the past, and the future. All 3 of the worlds have 3 thieves and 3 "Stages." If you've watched the trailer, you know how this game works and you know that when you catch the guy he tosses up the parcel and the next one magically comes up out of nowhere to start the chase all over again! I wont spoil who the thieves all are (for their protection, I know you will all be in arms to kill them if you knew their identities) but to be honest I was quite dissapointed..
All 3 worlds end with the same thief taking the protein...


Why Dr. Manhattan wants protein I haven't the slightest, but let me tell you all the time he's spent in space has really taken a toll. He rides a skateboard and gyrates his ass in a circle no matter how fast his magic skateboard goes or how many poses he throws out. It's really really REALLY out of character and awkward to watch how far he's fallen. Wait for that E True Hollywood Story, itll be a real tear jerker.

Which reminds me.. How you catch these bastards is amazingly inventive. Holding the jug of protein makes the one holding it stronger than diamond and faster than a cheetah. Just like real thieves these dishonest douche bags arent the smartest nails in the tool chest. They seem to enjoy glorifying their awesomeness by making poses and running square into walls and right through them in the shape of their pose. A sort of signature if you will. Unfortunately for them, their pursuers are professional pose makers! Making the poses are as simple as waving the wiimote + numchuks in a sort of voodoo doll hokuspokus kind of way. I don't it people I just play it and write about it. With every successful pose it speeds the chase up and creates a combo...

the chase is long, sweaty, and hard... go ahead and chuckle, I did it on purpose

But not all can be good in this garden.. At random a banana peel will be placed in the path of your muscled marauders and will cause a devastating slip to the one closest to you. The slip is so devastating they cant even pose to save their lives! The poor soul will end up smashing into the wall and spiralling into a sad and sickening doom as they wish you the best in your pursuit. A tragedy yes, but you must press on and now you have a personal vendetta against the one being chased. This will happen two more times until it is only you and the bandit in which he speeds up and attempts to break away once and for all.. BUT NOT IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT! Pose quick, pose well, and you will catch that bastard in no time flat! Pose wrong however and well its all over for you and the fallen...

Get him polar bear in speedo.. Get him for all those who fell before you!

As exciting as I made it sound.. Muscle March sadly gets old quick, I finished the whole game in about 15 minutes tops maybe? But at least it's priced correctly (800 wii points). I saved the world's supply of powdered protein supplement one pose at a time. And now I can rest easy...