Miister X's adventure in [redacted] part 3

A message from the editor

When Miister X sent me the copy for the second part of what we had promised the readers would be an epic tale of adventure in a foreign land, I had some concerns. There was only one day left in the story, and I was worried that having learnt the secret to enormous wealth (back breaking manual labour as it turned out, who'd have guessed) that it seemed unlikely that anything tense or exciting could happen during that time. I received the copy for the final part a few days ago and found my fears realised. I'll give you the abridged version of what happens: our now very wealthy hero buys some nice clothes, gives a speech and goes to a nightclub. That's it. I called him and attempted to explain how this might be an issue but this proved pointless. At one point, in an attempt to explain the problem I mentioned the notion of a three act structure, which he saw as a reason to segway into talking about when he used to perform three stand-up comedy gigs a night.

Timeless stuff.

 Several hours later I managed to steer the conversation back on track but when I tried to be tough and say that he'd have to rewrite the previous entries so that the finale could have some kind of climax, he giggled, then in a serious tone explained that he wasn't contracted to do re-writes of any kind. He also explained how he had long since lost interest in the project because the whole concept was as he put it "lame as hell".

On that it was hard to disagree.

So without further ado I give you the concluding part to the trilogy. When we last left our hero he was fabulously wealthy, despite what his attire might suggest.

For part 1, click here.

For part 2, click here.

As I awoke, I felt happier than I'd felt since I got here, knowing that my time in this town was almost up. It might also have had something to do with the bright summer colors of the room, they were just so positive! I made a mental note to have at least one room in my house decorated with this "carrot monster" theme when I got home.
I occurred to me that my one day of labor may well have made me the richest man in town, but that money would be of little use to me in the outside world. I had taken lots of money out of the town, and who knows if this bunch of idiots could deal with a sudden dependence on importing. Clearly, there was one decent, honorable thing to do....




SHOPPING SPREE

This spree didn't exactly last long, the town only has four places to buy things and I wound up buying an awful lot of horrible wallpapers, carpets and museum fixtures but I like to think I shared the wealth.

"Oh... someone to weed, right, see, thought you said some... although that might have explained a lot"

I knew the villagers didn't recognize me, and probably wouldn't be that enthusiastic if that unshaven, sweaty homeless guy who'd spent the previous day shaking down trees tried to open the lighthouse so I stopped by the beauty parlor to get cleaned up, and managed to perfectly describe, from memory, the dimensions and design of my favorite suit to a local tailor.

The result. You're welcome, ladies.

You can't please 'em all I suppose.

Two things caught me by surprise when I arrived to give my speech.

1: That a few people had actually shown up

2: That the lighthouse was there at all, because I swear to myself it was a construction site eight hours ago

I had taken the time to write my speech on a scrap of one of the carpets I bought earlier (no sense letting it go to waste). As I recall, it went something like this:

Citizens of [redacted]

When I arrived I was a success but your country ways made me feel like a failure. And yet here I am, the richest man in town, who unlike the rest of you, has the power to leave. My time here proves what I have always known, that winners always win because they're winners, and losers like you always lose. I cannot think of a better public work for this town than a lighthouse. A lighthouse stands tall giving the message, "you don't want to come here" a fitting description of this dump. NOW WHO WANTS TO PARTY IT UP WITH A WINNER?

Unsurprisingly only one (guy called Static) of these losers had the nerve to meet my challenge to party it up and to be honest, I'm not sure he heard me... you'll see.

I'm bald you idiot.

Like I said: a few pieces of fruit short of a stack. Sorry, local humor.

So I partied all night long. All night long. ALL NIGHT LONG, except for when I was asleep. I wasn't keen on taking the train with a hangover but in the morning, when he woke me up, the club owner explained how I'd been drinking fruit juice all night, and that my drunkeness may have been half placebo effect and half mental fatigue. 

As the train sped away from New Wangsburg, I reflected on my time there. What I learned from the experience was that a winner

Wait, I said all that in the speech. Just read that again, but this time picture me on a train as you do so. I think I was drinking a latte. That's it. This is the end of the story.

See what I mean. Bought loads of stuff, makeover, speech and party. That's all. What a waste of internets.

Miister X's adventure in [redacted] Part 1

For part two click here.

Hey, it's mii, Miister X. You may remember from such roles the King, the Prince and the Princess in Streetpass quest. I don't need to tell you, I'm a pretty big name in the Miiverse. So when Ivan and the other one were putting together their plan for a games blog, they'd the right idea asking mii to be their mascot. In the negotiations they insisted I do promotional work for them and write at least one piece, because when you're both a champion tennis player and an ace pilot, people want to know what's it like in your head. That's why I wrote my book, "Miiverse-us the World". I was in a bad way financially at the time because of my skiiing injury, so I couldn't say no. I did manage to talk them into letting me do the article about the promotional junket mind. With the contract signed, the Moustache guys said they'd be in touch when they had the junket arranged. Four months later, the other one remembered that he was the mayor of a small town called [redacted] (I didn't call my town [redacted], by how I wish I did. ~Ed) which thanks to a lack of checks and balances he could pretty do what he wanted with. He arranged for mii to spend a few days there promoting the blog, culminating in a speech at the opening of the the town's lighthouse. This is that story. A story of making the best of a bad situation, of fixing problems when no one will help you and absolutely terrifying snowmen.

The other one recommended I explore the town and check out the sights on my first day there, so I had a wander around. The first thing I noticed was weeds, lots and lots of weeds.

Also, tropical fruits.

Not funny. At all

One of the sights I'd been encouraged to check out was the local museum. This proved to be another mystery. The place had a number of extremely valuable paintings (the Mona Lisa to name but one) but clearly no security, seeing as most of the exhibits had been stripped bare.

My leg had healed nicely, so for the first time in weeks I was ready to shake what my Miimaker gave me. I rolled up to club lol (or is it club 101, I couldn't tell), told them who I was and.... nothing. I was pretty mad at the Moustaches for this, how the hell am I meant to promote their duff blog if no-one in the town's heard of me. But this wouldn't be their only mistake.

A frosty reception

Disappointed, I made my way to the other one's house where I'd be staying. At one point, a talking wolf asked me to sign a petition to ban anchovies. I tried to make a "get stuffed" "stuffed anchovies" based pun. I failed and then awkwardly continued on my way. Then I encountered this...

Something about it gave me a feeling of unease,so I kept my distance.

The other one had told me that he'd hide a key under the mat. With that in mind, can you see what's wrong with this picture?

The red light district.

Finding myself without a place to sleep, I headed straight for the mayor's office to see if the other one had made other arrangements.

This bitch was no help

The mayor's assistant seemed to have some repressed rage towards her "blow in, absentee boss" (something to do with having the same uncompleted paperwork on his desk for 6 months)which she took out on me. She told me to try the campsite and then threatened to release the hounds (her cousins). Sadly, the facilities at the camp site proved to be.... lacking

Who leaves a perfectly good picnic go to waste like this. These people are animals. ANIMALS!

You know what mate? Go quack yourself!

Night at the Museum

Things looked bad. It was winter time and I needed a place to sleep. As I wandered the high street looking for shelter, an idea occurred to me. The museum was open all night, and with such lax security I could probably find a quiet exhibit or store room and sleep there. 

Sure enough one of the store rooms was unlocked.

I wasn't too keen on the totem pole, but I once slept in Sean Connerii's attic, and, well, 'nuff said.

Will Miister X get a good night sleep? Will the petition to ban anchovies be a success? Will he ever forget the things he saw in Sean Connerii's attic? And what of the sinister snow gentlemen? For the answers to these and other question tune in next week whenever this blog gets updated to find out!

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Hey you! Do you long for style? The kind of style that says "yeah, I'm the face of a games blog that's read almost as infrequently as it's updated". The kind of style that starts to look disheveled over time because you only packed one set of clothes. The kind of style claims to resemble that of Gordon Gecko just because of the suspenders. The kind of style that isn't sure if the previous three sentences should have ended with question marks.....?

Well now you can have that style!