//**YOU JAM BANANAS IN YOUR EARS!**
They used to call me 'Mike' back then. I didn't mind. I clearly entered my name differently at the configuration screen, but the simple islanders adopted the pet name for me. Maybe I resembled another Mike they'd met before, like the one in Goonies II. Maybe Mike was island slang for white 'devil.' Regardless, Mike is what they called me, and I'll go by it as I weave the tale of my island and planet-hopping adventure.
I arrived on C-Island to see Uncle Steve, who had been studying something that both necessitated being near unwashed aboriginals and having a personal submarine. Probably studying the topless clam-diving ritual of the Coralcolans. As I arrived at the familiar settings of tiny Coralcola village, I chatted up the locals to get a feel for the local customs.
OK. So bestiality and pedophelia are kosher here. Moving on, I decided to see the village chief, Saddam Hussein.
Boy was my face red, when I climbed down all the way into his spiderhole, only to find out that it wasn't even MY Uncle Steve who was in trouble. Oh well, with nothing better to do, I offered to help out the villagers by finding Dr. Jones. The grateful chief gave me his best wishes, and bestowed upon me the treasured Island Yo-Yo, which he assured me was a weapon of great mystical power (but not Mass Destruction), and not just a carnival prize he didn't feel like just putting in the garbage. His trust in my pitching ability was a tad misplaced though. I throw like a girl. A little girl, mind you, and not one of the scary older mulleted types. So, with the chief's permission I went to enter the underground tunnel to Dr. Jones's laboratory.
The horror began almost immediately as the shaman came out of the pitch black and started prophesizing. After about the third time she mentioned the god damn Southern Cross and it's magical powers, I kind of assumed that there was a reason the chief's sister was in a heavily guarded (well, one guard, but he was kind of heavy looking) underground passageway. So, when she broke down and asked me for a quarter and some 'coconut milk,' which I'm sure was a euphamism for booze or something, I punched her in the stomach and continued into the cave to see what sort of deadly monsters the chief was complaining about. It turned out to be mainly a large infestation of slugs and rats. There were plenty of secret passageways to be found by hopping up and down on the ancient linoleum tiles. I even found a secret room inside another secret room!
Whoops, my bad. It looks like there's only death here. Fun Fact: Fhe skull and the femur are the bones in your body with the most buoyancy!!
The secret secret room sucks. I want my money back. Also: My flesh. Back on the main drag, I continued to the end of the cave where the gigantic mythical beast, the C-Serpent dwelled. While a sight meaner than the pink slugs and gyrating rats, I couldn't help but notice that it was really only dangerous if you stood directly in front of its mouth, waiting for it to vomit fire. I fought fire breath with fire, which amazingly worked and caused the C-Serpent to explode like a chain of wimpy fireworks.
Maybe I underestimated the blast, since it scattered the remains all over the adjacent room. I hope C-Serpents aren't endangered. I wonder if Uncle Steve's disappearance is tied to the fact there was a fire breathing, 40-foot leviathan on his morning commute.
Continuing on my merry way, I found his assistant Babu dancing on the beach. That slacker! I was ready to give him what for, then he told me about the horrible things that had taken Dr. Jones in the vaguest terms possible, then confiding in me that the only reason he didn't go after him already was that he was afraid of... of...
Eh, I got the keys to Uncle Steve's kickass minisub out of it, so I'll let Babu live. For now. I'll just tell the good doctor about his assistant dancing on the beach and blocking the steps when I find him. So, I climb in the Sub-C. Then all of a sudden, I hear an awful mechanical BEEDYBEEDYBEEDY. And there it was. Decked out in purple chrome, was an NES R.O.B. unit. He claimed to be the ship's navigation computer. "Call me Nav-Com!" he blurted. It was then- as he comically slipped on some of his own leaking oil and got up, shaking his head as his synthesizer went "WA-WA-WAAAAH"-that I realized that I was in for the worst road trip ever.
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