Part 18: Episode XVII: The Clipping
Alright, back to the investigation. We've learned that there is some super secret members only society of pharmacists that wears shoes with their logo on the soles and ergh...that's about it. Time to report to the mayor!
Go fuck yourself, Ben. Seriously. Eat a dick. You have the most annoying idle animations of any video game character ever.
Returning to the Town Hall...
The town hall has arbitrarily decided to unlock itself for Briggs this time. Might as well go see if the...
...err...Count is in? I guess it wasn't between the hours of 9:00 AM and 6:00 PM before. Anyhow, despite this grand hall's appearances... the only location Briggs may enter is the top of the stairs.
Oh, wthe hell is this thing..? This is going to be profoundly stupid, isn't it?
"I would like to speak with the Mayor."
"But I am here on official business concerning the very capture of the Soul Taker. I must talk with the Mayor and inform him of my progress thus far!"
The sad looking brute in his tiny little desk does nothing to stop Briggs' assholish determination as he barges into the Mayor's office to report he's learned basically nothing of note.
In the Mayor's Office...
"A theory, eh? Well tell me more!" "Now mind you by 'theory' I mean 'wild conjecture' of course..." "I don't even know what that word means. Please continue."
Woah woah woah...hold up, Ben... Where did this "theory" come from? At best I would guess a possible suspect, based on fairly circumstantial clues mind you, would be one of the pharmacist brigade may possibly be involved. Not the whole damned group.
And we're basing this all on a shoe-print coming away from the crime scene leading to the group's members only club. A similar likely story is someone emerged from that joint, saw the guy on the ground, got a closer look, went "holy shit his soul has been stolen", and quickly retreated back inside.
You are the worst goddamn detective on the planet.
Sure... A cult... Why not...? Is there any ritual suicide action I can get in on nearby?
"Find the ringleaders and the rest will come crawling from the woodwork! Well off you go then Detective, no time to lose!"
Well, that was near brain damagingly dumb. The Rancor secretary has gone missing. You may think this is significant in some way, but you should not. This is Limbo of the Lost. They just didn't bother animated him further for when Ben leaves.
Right then... That note from that dubious snow...ice..sphere...thing... suggested we visit the Inn of Sin. Maybe that will lead to some new le-
--oh for Christ sake!
No, actually the game expects us to go visit the newly accessible Society Hall and Hospice. Why was this previous inaccessible? Mystery!
The aforementioned hospice seems to be the scene of yet another soul snatching. Glad someone bothered to inform us beforehand.
Oh NO! Not... Not...? Err...are we supposed to know who this is...?
"...in mid Sleuth..."
"It's just that we thought it best to..." "...Introduce ourselves, you know..." "...make you aware of who we are and what we do..." "...for these poor unfortunate..." "...Individuals."
...
...
...
...
I am looking at two character models clipping through one another, aren't I? I...err...you know, I can't even put to words anything for this... I mean, the implications of conjoined twins being married...the laziness of the whole thing... The gimmicky speech... Goddammit...
"Heaven or hell? Let's rock!"
At least Briggs is honest that he's a reprehensible asshole that can't stand any inkling of that which is good and pure. Granted, the "Goode Family" is in no way something good. And now you're going and resurrecting Beavis and Butthead...for shame, Mike Judge. For shame.
Umm... Ben... Forgetting something here? Briggs? DetectiveBen Briggs?!
Are you maybe going to investigate the crime scene? You know... Like a detective usually does? No...? You're just going to walk off and leave it to the Wordcollidenone Duo?
Doing an about-face at the map screen to do this chucklefuck's job for him later...
Welp, the body of the newest victim is already dumped in the river or whatever they do with corpses in Limbo. He did drop a few items behind him. Whoever is the coroner in town is really bad about hitting the stiffs like a piñata.
First up we have an apron. Apparently the departed was supposed to be the shoe cobbler from before. It's a bit hard to recognize someone who's only distinguishing feature is looking akin to a lumpy potato when their face is contorted into a decidedly non-spud like expression.
Next up is a pair of glasses Ben immediately sticks on his mug and likely stumbled about loudly declaring he can't see anything as he's somehow regressed into a pants-on-head retard since the Sewers.
The hospice itself is unfortunately locked until whatever erratic sequence of events will grant us access. Terrific. Oh well... We might as well go check back with the Blacksmith as his daughter assaulted us with vague hints earlier.
A trek to the Blacksmith later...
I guess the newly soulless shoe cobbler made shoes for every single person in Darkmere other than the only child in town. Given how much of a jerk this kid has been, I don't blame him.
You know, I must have missed the whole transition where this kid went from accusing us of being a heretic and having us locked in prison to becoming our BFF. The only justification seems to be "the mayor (who everyone and their uncle say is acting sketchy) said he was cool so now I like him too."
This is the most detective work Benny has done thus far in the game.
I'm not going to even comment on that twisted mockery of a smile on that ugly mug. I am instead going to call this little girl's bullshit. Let us back up a moment...
Unless your dad is ironically named "Laura" I am pretty damn sure that you wrote this note. Granted, it's typed in some atrocious font and all. But one tends to sign letters they write.
Isn't this the same guy who told us to fuck off out of his store and not come back less than an hour ago? Is this just a family of bipolar personality sufferers?
Heading inside...
So instead you had your daughter go out and risk her soul to deliver the message? A message that you apparently signed with her name to protect your identity, I suppose... That's not eye bear trap assholish but it's pretty high up there, chief.
Why do I seriously doubt that claim? I'm going to take a wild guess and call that we get, at best, vague and cryptic advice.
That's good to know. Maybe Briggs would be a bit further ahead on that front if you didn't throw him out like a dick last time. Good to see you came around to his side due to...err...wait, why did you start helping him...?
We're not actually going to get an answer to that question. Instead, that conversation has opened up a new area to explore. This would all make a lot more sense if Ben didn't literally have a map of Darkmere as the world map. Not knowing there is a house at the end of a derelict path is one thing. Not knowing there is a house at the end of a derelict path due to being too lazy to fully scan the map is quite another...
I was expecting more of an old witch's hut, really... I guess there wasn't a UT2K4 map available to snake one from.
Our new font of knowledge turns out to be a French chick in a bikini. I'm fairly shocked she wasn't just topless. I thought there was some Terms of Service agreement for Poser and its derivatives that all products utilizing the program must have at least one creepy shirtless chick featured at minimum.
I think "Mystic" is supposed to be "Psychic". I'm not sure how anyone can manage to fuck that up it is pretty com-oh right....Majestic Studios.
Benjamin Spooner Briggs is quite the ladies man, don't you know? I mean look at his fox of a wife:
Shadows may seek the poorly lit house owned by a Frenchwoman dabbling in the dark arts. Hogwash!
Madam Mystic's eyes go white and she undergoes a brief spaz attack. Before I could so much as process what the hell was going on Briggs butts in with:
Pictured: Benjamin Briggs with eyes focused below the neck...
"Horrible, terrible images of the future... Creators of pictures that can be moved and controlled.. They've taken you... Used you... Twisted you... They tear the souls from other such moving pictures to craft this corrupted deception of your destiny..." "What?! Why?!" "They have lost their way... They meddle in dark arts we cannot comprehend or decipher. Your destiny is locked in limbo... It is hardly a majestic fate..." "...Well, that is disheartening. How about the whole Soul Taker thing?"
"Haut, haut, bas, bas, gauche, droite, gauche, droite, bey, ah, entrée."
No way it could be "DEAD END ? ?" The one with the poorly concealed walls and marked with the pharmacy symbol? No...that would be silly.
So, what did I tell you? Vague and cryptic with a pinch of ultimately useless advice.
Fous le camps et morte.
Waiting outside is the other resident psychic, good old Mr. Jailer. Seriously, how the hell did he know Ben was here?
Not the pie lady who did nothing but waste three minutes of our time! The grief is almost too much to bear! If only she hadn't put out moldy, decade old pies for nobody to eat, since she was clearly a senile person left unchecked, none of this would have happened!
You'd think people would learn to avoid the town square seeing as three people have been murdered in and around it within the last couple of hours. Just saying...
"Hop dippity dog"? People don't speak like that. Not even horribly done stereotypes of people speak like that. Especially regarding fresh corpses.
You'll just have to take his word on this one. The developers couldn't be bothered to render the post-soul taking husk for this victim. Meh...effort...
I'm going to put all my detective skills to use and deduce this was found in
...but Mrs. Hudson didn't even wear a chef's hat...
Really? They're going to introduce key collection and it's not going to be color and/or themed keys (i.e. chess pieces, parts of a knight's outfit, clock mechanisms and what have you.)
And so the chronicles of Benjamin Briggs: Oblivious Gumshoe continues...
Bonus Content:
Movies -
The Mayor's Secretary and the Conspiracy Chat
Clipping Issues and Creepy Smiles
Chatting With French Mystics