The Official Video Game Short Story Thread

[Martyr]

This was a story I wrote as an aggressive, lengthy insult for some Megatokyo forumite who wrote a really incredibly stupid Zelda poem.
It's the first and oldest piece of work I ever placed online. I hating putting original work online, and I haven't been to MT in eons, so I may as well res this piece of crap here for you pitiful souls to suffer through.
Some of it prolly won't make sense.
And there's no mystery about the video game of this story. At least, not if you've ever played a video game. I suppose somebody like Amerigo Vespucci wouldn't know, but it isn't his fault. He died a long time ago.
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Thou Shalt Not Steal

Well, that bastard pig-demon has taken advantage of my mercy and come back for more punishment. I should have known that simple silver arrow could not quench his hate.
His countless minions drove down from the mountains in an avalanche of rock spitting arachnids, arrow shooting fat things, and grass hopping… grass hopping crab-like things that also have a lot of legs, whatever they are-
They swarmed into the castle while I was away, away fighting off something or other for some farmer chick, ya know, getting those last few thrills before marriage, ya know, and…
They took my princess hostage. Again. Damn it!

When I came back to my place, expecting to see my beautiful, gigantic, human love machine, I was greeted by a couple of saps in Hyrulian military uniform, tights, and they told me that the princess was gone. Again.
Those worthless bastards. Here I am, a four foot tall elf, a little chubby around the waist, and these humans stand before that figure of me and claim that they can’t save the world when I can. It was absolutely preposterous. Complete nonsense. Without a word, I left. I just started walking back to the mountains. I figured I’d just go up and get her back, the same way I always do. We walk through some dungeons, find keys, kill “bosses.” Let’s do it.

It was seven days after I left my place before I realized that I had made a crucial mistake. I was so hasty to leave that I only brought my sword and shield. Now, when you have a spell reflecting, all projectile blocking, full body shield of golden brilliance and a legendary, infallible, infinitely powerful, Hyrulean Excalibur of a Magic Master Sword as your only equipment, you’re usually pretty well off. But, however, such was not the case for me. Here’s why:

Ya see, I had found a little group of blue barbarian monsters camping at the base of one mountain north of the castle. Apparently, they were a little tipsy, and they began to squabble over some arrow or another. I charged out from behind a rock and killed every slobbering brute of them, but one seemed to find a hidden reflex in its drunkenness and managed to hurl a bomb at me before passing away under my mighty blade. The bomb struck the mountain, and, with a jingle from the heavens, the rocks parted for my entrance. I ripped a couple explosives off one of the dead critters and, with an elfin screech, ran into Gannon’s chilly hideaway.
Clad in blue mail and wielding razor sharp broadswords, the knights of darkness assaulted me upon my entrance. With their steady march, they surrounded me and closed in. I dodged their blows, and maneuvered around their majestic capes to supercede their strategy with my skill in the art of killing. Blah blah blah….

Only after I had dragged their corpses into the center of the room and built a pyramid of carcasses and then pushed some blocks into a perfect pentagram around their bodies in accordance with the sound of four musical chimes being struck in unision by a series of well-timed bombs did the secret door open. And as soon as the steel clanged against the rock, a spiked cube rushed out from the darkness. I hoped over it; Gannon ought to know that I am far too seasoned a veteran dungeon raider to fall for such traps.

What I didn’t expect was for the darkness of the room beyond to spread to mine. Suddenly, I was blinded, and I hadn’t brought a candle with me. Next came a sturdy clamp on my left arm. I pulled free, acidic goo dripping off my sleeves, and realized, despite my temporary blindness, that my shield was missing. “You crusty”-
I cleaved the monster before me, but I could feel more all over me. They bit at me, their eyes didn’t glow, and their slimy remains did stick to my finely groomed hair. I remember just swinging in all directions. Even my blade did not provide the dimmest light, but it did chop up monsters. I sunk my weapon in with many a spewing flesh chunk, and ripped it out to cause a chain reaction of repetitive cleave strokes. I stomped across the increasingly squishy ground and bombed a Dodongo before it could begin to realize that it’s thundering footsteps gave away its location.
The rush of the slaughter brought on enough energy to run through the black rooms. I gripped my sword in both hands and hacked through anything, living or nonliving, that got in my way. I had cast away all the grace and style that I had prized so greatly in the past. I had no more bombs so I kicked through weak walls, I had no boomerang, so I simply didn’t miss when I swung my sword, I had no wand, no candle, and no bow. When the one eyed crabs came, I just stabbed them in the eye. Maybe an arrow shows more class, but a sword works just as well!
Behind the roomful of crabs, there was a doorway, and, as usual, Gannon was standing there, confining himself to some tiny room and awaiting my arrival. He just wasted his time waiting for me. No wonder he hated all life, his sucks!

As I entered the room, Gannon cleared his throat in preparation for his painstakingly crafted villain speech. We both knew that a boss fight could never begin properly without the villain first imparting some pretty grouping of hateful four syllable words. I walked up to his face and felt a puff of rancid air clutter my sense of smell. The first and only word spoken in Gannon’s eloquent speech was the word, “The.”
Instead of listening, I lopped off that ugly head of his neck and shoved his porky body into a fire pit conveniently located on the side of the room.
There were lots of fire pits. Their purpose was clearly for some form of intimidation. I was just concerned with cooking up some fresh pork. Unfortunately, among all the equipment I had forgotten, forks and knives were included. And barbeque sauce. How can I eat Gannon without a fork or barbeque sauce? I let the Gannon roast while I hunted for Zelda. Her dress was hung on a hook, which was good, because I love seeing Zelda naked, but her perfect body was nowhere to be seen.

Angrily, I turned back to the dead monster over the fire, but there, instead of a headless pig, I saw my beloved. Very headless, and very juicy, her flesh getting to its most succulent point by now; Zelda was roasting over Gannon’s hell fire! As I stared in shock, I heard a voice behind me.
“I bet you wish you killed me now!”
I turned to the monster, stuttering, “B-But h-h-how? How are you alive?”
It sneered, “Remember the silver arrow you green turd? You can’t kill me without one of those!”
I snarled back, “You’re supposed to leave one lying around here you jack-hole! I fought through this entire dungeon and didn’t find a single treasure that could focus on any of your monster’s weak points!”
“But you did see a silver arrow.” The hog was gloating now. “The moblins outside the fort were squabbling over it. You simply didn’t take the time to fetch it from them. You let your blind rage get the best of you, now, didn’t you.”
“Thou Shalt Not Kill!” I shrieked.
(SPOILER)That line doesn't make sense unless you read the stupid poem that inspired me to write this drivel

Gannon nodded. He walked over to the princess, who was beginning to burn, and kicked a chip of charcoal off her leg. “I think you’ve done enough killing. Give me that Triforce of power.”


So I traded him the tri-force for some paper and a pen. He said he’d mail this out for me. At least the next hero won’t make the same mista-