No. This is sorcery -- a vile trick this land is playing on my mind. This is how the mariners of old were cascaded upon rocky shores, splayed out to bake in the ancient sun. I am no fool, I will follow this demon-spawn to its source and end this infernal nightmare.
When I grab the demon, its banshee wail changes to a cry of distress! It is alerting its master to my presence. Must be quick. The land rises against me, throwing obstacles in my way; I must be nearing its lair. Descending further into the inky black darkness, I must evade the armies of snow that surface. It is near. I hear the beast's forlorn call answering the babe's panicked screams.
When the two are united, they unleashed a bright hell- a gold flash seers my sleep-deprived eyes. "You cannot win!" I cry, holding the baby penguin aloft near the abyss. "I'll make sure no others are guided into your den!"
With a sudden burst of strength I cast the little demon into the bewildering emptiness of the abyss. It falls into the ether that resides past the end of the world, and for all I care, there it shall remain.
Sorry for that -- I guess what I mean to say is:
I've always felt the urge to kill videogame penguins.
In Super Mario 64, I would put up with the baby penguin just long enough to collect my reward and then, oopsidaisies! Off the level it would go. Its incessant whining was not only intolerable, but ungrateful. I'm only saving the world to get a slice of Peach's cake, after all, who are you to not only demand being saved, but complain about the process.
I am not alone in my penguin hate, however. Thanks to the glory of flash games, I can live out my penguin smashing fantasies with games like Pingu Toss and Bloody Pingu Throw. These 'games' whet my appetite temporarily, but I needed a full-fledged penguin killing sim, not these half-assed flash games and hidden mini-games (alright, loopholes in level design).
It seems like NIS heard my prayer. Disgaea answered my lust for penguin blood with what must be the most accurate penguin killing simulation in the world. You throw them and they blow up. Not only are they willing to do this, but they treat you with respect; calling you 'Dood!' while they hurtle towards their very timely demise. No more arrogant pricks. They have been replaced with subservient tools of destruction. My tools of destruction.
Prinnies are God's gift to the penguin hater. You can set them on the front line to be knifed. You can choose to never heal them (why bother, I'd rather get a replacement). You can make a team of Prinnies, ripe for the slaughter. Most importantly, they each come with a nice self destruct mechanism, the pinnacle in penguin evolution.
Their death will serve me exceedingly well, though we shall let fate decide if it is to be a quick one.
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