Amidst the thick density in the air that night among fellow Tiger patrons, the smoke traveling throughout the blistered lights seemed to be the only life force capable of foreseeing Dan's fate in this bit. As the cotton white glove, stitched to perfected failure, risen so high above the two brawlers it perplexed the condensation of time perceived within each man's mind. The referee statued his arm up longer than usual, considering that the dark brown swimming in his eyes were completely stapled to Dan's ridiculous physical gestures and facial expressions. Riding along with his continued ligament revolt against Dan's own biology, the words splurting out his now fluffy puff lips seemed by far much more far-fetched than his bodily linguistics.
"aaaaaaeeeeeeerrrrrrooooooooohhhhhwww. . . oh, oh my. Wow, I mean, WOW MAN!!! This must be the foretelling, no! the revelation of a forthcoming string of victories for me! It is here I am obviously presented by the heavens to experience the root of supreme victory! Until now, I have been merely fighting squirrels for peanuts. Machines and papers have created an illusive mist to penetrate my pupils and nostrils to convince my mind, by tye-dye surprise, that nothing stands before Saikyo-Ryu!!"
Dan's pre-victory speech rumbled feelings of deep annoyance and deeper confusion in the stomachs of fight-hungry dogs throughout the bar, but the opponent was growing weary of all talk and no beginning to anything. "Alright, you had your moment in the sun!" His hand still perfected with the midair pause, in the blink of an eye (before Dan's count) he now slashed to signal "Fight!!" . . ."Oh crap, I totally forgot about the fight. Alright action man, you think you can scare me with that cloak shadowing your mamma's ugly bred face and your own tig ol' bitties? Bring it on!" Immediately after Dan's last words of cocky uprisal, his opponent clenches his hood only to force his rotten cloak aside like a tossed and beaten hooker after she says something stupid. At that precise moment, the audience and every patron in the building was reminded intensely who the show belongs to and why the joint is called what it is. Dan's opponent was none other than the muscular Thai tiger himself, the self proclaimed king known as Sagat.
Rather than allowing for mixed emotions to make the worst of his stung impression, he immediately charged at full force as he ravages through the smoke breathing air with a contemplated (and well executed) series of combo kicks aimed straight at his opponent's bulky face. Sagat, attempting to make nothing of possessing his opponent by the lid of his skull, suddenly questioned his own motive for a split second as he recognized the flare that followed Dan's charging kick like blood rapidly traveling along the thin side of ice. His eyes now open to an unapproached attack, completely unexpected from a sever case of underestimating such temporarily displayed prominence. Instantly, Dan delivered such power without hesitation and with no expectations of any kind through composing a beautiful compassion, in a musical sense, upon Sagat's bubbly face. The entire human focus was now shifted strictly within the summer hot center of two fighters. To make this package complete, Dan's feet melody had finished with the face and now it was time to thrill everyone with the finishing Hibiki signature Super Combo finish.
"FOR YOU, FATHER!!!". . . every breathing, standing, gazing collection of flesh stood in awe and twisted sour lemon disbelief. In the hot center of the building, in where all attention was grounded, there remained a man in pink standing right next to the man who now lays broken and battered in his own pool of blood. As the air stood silent amongst all patrons, within seconds later the crowd went absolutely electric in chaotic bewilderment. Amongst all the cheering and crying, the referee hastily jumps in the ring aside Dan, "Ladies and gentlemen, you can't believe it! I can't believe it! We have a new winner that is unbelievably more deserving of our praise! I now proclaim Tipping Tiger's new champion. . . DAN HIBIKI!!" Turning his head to the new victor, he then queries "Sir, have you any comments?!" as Dan slowly tilts his head toward the referee's chest. As his body leans further down, with the eyes of everyone else in exact symmetry of his motion, before any word can develop his mouth opens for yet another unexpected surprise as his cheeks fill with what seemed like lava. The volcano that was his mouth rudely, yet unintentionally, erupted with an extremely distasteful explosion of orangish tang laced with mud brown mounting itself upon the referee's legs like a pouncing cheetah. . . gradually making its way across the ring floor in the mannerism of unmustered jelly.
The warm "Tiger's" glow of such brightness swooned its patrons into a stumble of drunken debauchery and illuminated high times. Feeling the daring need to engage in further animal instincts, Dan approaches the door after checking in his conscious at the front. . receiving a ticket to reclaim it when the time comes to leave. Expecting mainly a crowd of hardknockers and the night life's remaining wild population, he enters only to realize that his thoughts betrayed his heart. His eyes glistened with a wet vibration as he becomes witness to men, women, and even families gambling every form of currency on groups of fighters proclaiming their martial arts in the highest regards, assuring the audience their money's worth.
Heaven itself could not compare to the red carpet exiting through the mouth, exiting a stench that calls attention to eyes with gold nugget pupils. Amazement to the highest degree rushed in Dan's veins as fast as his tent was pitching simultaneously. "I can beat these yackos at the blink of an eye!", he exclaims through his heart his deepest sincerity in wanting to prove his macho egotism. Sliding one pink glove after another, pluckings of harmonous strings strike his mind of Saikyo-Ryu and its promised coming glory. Once again, however, betrayal could not have been any better of a friend that night as he soon realized who he was challenging.
Reconsidering his approach in the fight, yet true to his word regardless of whatever beating lies ahead, he loudly whispers to the competition judge "Hey uh, well you see, umm. . the thing is, I don't feel comfortable about engaging my opponent without first meeting him and at least knowing a little bit of something before I. ." and immediately cut off with "Hey sucker, don't take me for a chimp by chumpin' out. Grab your balls and quit crying!". Realizing his fate, a masquerade of thoughts run amok his mind without a conscious as he panters to himself thoughts of minor doubt. "I don't doubt for a second that I'll put my opponent to shame with Saikyo-Ryu, but I must absolutely make use of the toilet before the show begins at your call" garaunteed Dan his permission to immediately escape through the back door only to find an incredibly large man with stripes of red on his face. The man said absolutely nothing, for his facial expression told Dan exactly what was already heard. With a big gulp swimming through his crushed words, the worried warrior now faces the empty promise of a nervous wreck. In shambles, he grabbed the nearest plant and starts to eat in excess, "Gotta eat before the show, a body's gotta have nutrients ya know?". Inside, his emotions were racing to reach a solution for a noble image as the other man was racing in his mind to reach an idea.
As usual, Dan was rolling back in the building, rolling over bar stools to pave through a colorful reaction from the audience to immediately raise all betting stakes. Finally prepared, Dan yells louder than ever to assure himself of a victory neither the challenger nor the opponent will forsee. The big man from the back forwards to his comrade "You know that guy was a sorry wreck when I nearly caught his ass trying to book out of Dodge, but when he reckoned with me he started eating all those nasty lookin' mushrooms growing along the back wall". It was at that moment in silent confusion when the bartender put in his money on Dan's opponent.
"Oh man, what the hell was I thinking? Now I really have to use the toilet, but I already told that guy I went!" and sooner than he realized, the bell had already started the fight. A large, mountain of a man stepped slowly towards him and grinned with an assurance of crushed fate. However, for whatever reason, Dan repeated the bell's ring in his mind continuously until the ring transformed into a chime that called his spirits to an unknown god of an unknown state of being. raindrops of sweat on each man's face soon appeared as swimming drips of bleeding clouds. Now, Dan seriously regretted acting upon extreme hesitation and impulse. 'Now I know why they have you check in your conscious at the front door, I'm royally screwed!"
Walking alongside the dirt paved sidewalk, leaving only a stench of exhilarant contention over counter thoughts of perceived victory, a man celebrates his pride in bright pink. He knew his gi told others that no introduction was necessary, for his smile also garaunteed a signature that carved a permanent memory in hearts of all weather. Dan relinquished his rooster attitude with the warm to appear conniving with a circus approach, but he would only boost the roost with the cold to challenge thier power and his own at that. . .
On a warm night of the turtle, the palate of Hong Kong was in desirable need for a cheerful quench. "Tipping Tiger" stood out for all to see in what Dan considered 'Gynormous stinging neon lights from heaven's shine and hell's intrigue'.
Well, I must start off by saying that it feels so good to post a new blog on this site that I love so much. I've been so incredibly busy with my short stories and poetry, getting ready to publish them is an insanely difficult process (but fulfilling at times, nonetheless). In the midst of finishing school and writing, unfortunately, I've had very little time to play video games and yet every time I play games most of my homework seems to go out the window. It sucks when a professor asks about why you only half-assed the assignment and you tell him "I had to unlock Gill in Street Fighter. Plus, I got all of the alternate colors maaan!"
But now that school's over and I graduate today, I've been so fortunate to spend the past couple of days playing Street Fighter III: Third Strike. On top of that, I'm actually getting much better at it. As much as I love playing these games, considering that the school I'm transferring to is much more expensive than Community College, I have no choice but to sell the games I'll be least likely to play. I'm also going to be selling a lot of Capcom related peripherals (PS2), my Devil May Cry trilogy, and (the worst part) my Street Fighter IV Fightstick. I really can't take this stuff with me when I transfer because I want to focus on my studies, but nonetheless it still feels bad letting go of it all.
However, if I was going to sell a lot of my stuff I had to come to a conclusion in where I feel better about what I'm doing. I now realize that these items were hardly put to use recently, despite their constant enjoyment in the past, so clinging on to material possessions at this point seems rather unnecessary. The only reason why I'm not selling my PS3 is because I just can't find it in my heart to do so. With that in mind, I decided to keep at least 6 PS2 games and 2 PS3 games. Anyways, here's an incomplete list of what I'm selling (pictures & ebay links available at shop.ebay.com/merchant/cheekyphuzz#item2...)
-Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots [Special Edition]
-Street Fighter 15th Anniversary controller lot [Ken/Ryu/Chun Li] (PS2)
[Every item comes complete with manual, box, etc.]
Everything is in excellent condition, being that I'm such a neat freak, so hopefully I won't have such a hard time selling this stuff and gettin' some cheese for books (gwa gwaa gwaaaa)
I think I can speak on the behalf of, what I can only imagine millions of satisfied consumers, who invested in Street Fighter IV on February 17 when I say that this game will have no problem dominating next gen consoles for many months (possibly years) to come. With that in mind, I am also reminded of how such appreciative, or rather "popularity" phases are influenced in other artistic mediums. Lately, I have decided to ponder on this thought simply because my admiration and appreciation for Street Fighter IV is beyond all of my expectations.
With that said, I am grateful that I have found a game of such magnificent calibur, but I also feel that this game should be respected as time passes instead of merely varying the color scheme in your game collection. By all means, I'm not attempting to suggest following any worship of some sort torwards this game. I just enjoy it so much and I would absolutely hate to see such a great game thrown across the colorless halls of fading pride in my mind. With all of that wrapped up in the bag, I continue to my main point. People will always feel the desire to explore different things as is the process of human development, so it seems only natural to desire the gameplay of another. Queens of the Stone Age [at the time of this writing] is my favorite band and considering that, I do my best to not listen to them as much as I'd love to. So I do my best to incorporate this idea in playing video games.
Of course, it seems highly unlikely (in my opinion) that there will be another game worthy of comparison to release some time soon. However, in order to truly appreciate a genuine game I feel that it's important to play other games whenever possible as loosely as possible. Coincidentally, I completely forgot about the March 3 SNK re-release of King of Fighters '98: Ultimate Match. I must say, long story short, this game is absolutely breathtaking in nearly all respects. On a sidenote, this game supports progressive scan (which is great if you have HD component & HDTV), but this game looks surprisingly amazing on my PS3 via HDMI cables. For any PS2 game to carry such detailed structure, that's impressive.
To finally end my rambling, I would simultaneously like to acknowledge the King of Fighters '98 UM as an excellent post SF4-release fighter to play (especially for an 11-year-old remake on the PS2) and also recognize that I believe Street Fighter IV will stand amongst those select titles that are exemplary staples on its console/s of its generation. It's amazing how Street Fighter II defined the arcade culture as something amazing for the arts, and I feel comfortable in imagining Street Fighter IV making the same impact on how people choose to view the consoles of our generation. Right on. .
