Dear Diary,
Today I had to slay a mobile version of Jabba the Hutt, and then an Angry Dino-Bird with a ridiculous name, and as I was chasing Angry Dino-Bird around it angered the region’s Angry T-Rex and the Angry T-Rex chased us both.
It was a good day.
***
I did not expect to write a second article about a video game, but here we are. Possibly it’s a slow news week. Or maybe my hunter’s life is just more exciting than mine.
Anyway, the Angry T-Rex that was mad-dogging my hunter the other night has a name: Anjanath.
I discovered this by accident.
I figured I would have to deal with him eventually. It’s Chekhov’s T-Rex: If there’s a giant angry tyranid roaming the forest, you will fight him. But he was big and intimidating and I guess I thought the game would give me a grace period where I could play amongst lesser dinos and enjoy the tropical ambience without his toothy ass coming after me.
Hahahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALOOOOOOOOOOOL Joke’s on me. I’m the sweet summer child in this scenario.
I was tussling with the Pukei-Pukei, which is pronounced Pookie-Pookie but whom I refer to as Pukey-Pukey because he spits poison. I was supposed to get him in a quest but just found him wandering the forest and decided to give him a try. Kraken and I had landed a few good hits and Puke-y ran off. I chased him.
I chased him right into the Anjanath.
Seriously. Right into his snout. How the hell we managed to smash into something that big without any kind of warning will forever remain a mystery to me.
(The likelier explanation is there were probably heavy footsteps and other warning signs and I, merrily chasing Pukey, did not pay attention to them. Such is life.)
The Anjanath roared in our faces. The screen shook and went blurry. My hunter clutched at her head. The cat cowered. I’m fairly certain Pukey squawked in dismay. The handler (who is sort of a cheerleader/annoying roommate) popped up on the screen squealing that OMG WE NEED TO RUN NOW!!!!
There comes a time in every woman’s life when she must decide for herself whether she’ll run away or stand and fight. I could summon the bravery handed down by my ancestors and charge the beast, or I could slink away and hope the forest would conceal my shame.
I had my dinner knives. I had the cat. I had the Pukey—oh wait, no I didn’t. Pukey hightailed it out of there. I guess I can’t blame him.
The Anjanath stomped on me.
I went flying. My health bar imploded.
I chose life. Kraken and I ran as fast as our pixelated feet could carry us. The Anjanath followed, roaring all the way. I could see his icon on the map tailing me. I jammed the shift key to make the hunter sprint.
Somehow we lost him. We staggered back into the boat city, where I was promptly headbutted by my pet pig. I actually don’t know if the pig is mine or if it belongs to the boat city, or what I did to anger it. I have no idea who put the sun hat on it, either, but I like its style. Here is a sweet picture I took right before the actual headbutting:
“GUYS,” I wrote to Mr. Truck and Miss Mac, “I ALMOST GOT EATEN BY THE ANGRY T-REX.”
Raging dinosaur nightmares aside, MHW is completely bonkers. In what other game do you run around a tropical rainforest with a sentient feline picking fights with monsters, knocking back hot toddies and brandishing dinner knives at anything that moves?
(SIde note: I’ve decided my hunter is drunk at least 90% of the time, because you’d have to be drunk to go up against this dude, who appears to use, uh, vomit as his primary weapon. Honestly, this dude would’ve merited his own entry if the Anjanath hadn’t attempted to chow down on me.)
It’s nuts. I kind of love it.
“I think you found your game, Suz,” Mr. Truck said.
And then Miss Mac, non-gamer, asked the question no one expected:
“How do I buy this game??”
TO BE CONTINUED…