I've Been Diddled Again! Let's Play Plok!

This is the best fish. This is also the best LP.

WHOA! Didn't see ya there, folks! I've been busy keeping an eye on these security monitors all day and all night for the past few days, so don't worry if I seem a little on edge. After all, endless cups of coffee are here to SAVE THE DAY and now it's time for your CARTOONS WHAT PLAY ON THE TUBES.



Fleas come from eggs, tard! You must be throwing back those cold ones a little too often lately. Only a person under the influence of... whatever it is Ploks drink could ever stumble into the rock-log dominated Crashing Rocks. For being the last flea-hunt level, it actually doesn't pose much of a challenge; it's fairly straightforward (just go from left to right) and there aren't very many fleas to kill. The point here is to dodge environmental obstacles and whatever the hell those Muppet-looking things are. They act just like Budd Lites, but are 100% uglier and just as invulnerable to Plokattax. The production notes say they're called Frogroses, but let's just call 'em Kermits. We won't get sued, I promise!

No I don't.



Crashing Rocks alternates between forcing you to navigate dry and wet areas. Surviving the dry areas is just a matter of avoiding incoming rock-logs either by hopping over them or by seeking shelter under a cozy, convenient awning. The wet areas play out a little differently than what Plok is used to; though the waters may seem stable at first, large waves periodically rise up to smother our hero in watery badness. Plok finds avoiding the waves a snap, but his gloating is sure to make these raging waters even more angry!



BOOM! CRASH! Water'd. It's somewhat annoying trying to destroy fleas under these wet circumstances, but Plok just keeps on keepin' on. Sometimes, groups of rock-logs attempt to get the drop on Plok by rocketing toward him at an alarming rate from out of nowhere. He finds the best way to get past these bits is to inch his way forward on suspiciously empty stretches of level and spin-jumping out of the way before the rock-logs have a chance to steamroll him.



You'd think that because Plok's got the maximum number of lives he can have, he'd utilize that magic SHELL POWER more often! He only seems to use it when he's desperately low on his Plok-health and in situations where he feels that punches alone won't get the job done. The several leaps-of-faith he has to take in the level are the perfect opportunity for him to show off some of that shell action! Interestingly enough, Plok's running and idle animation changes depending on his current health; it's nothin' drastic, but definitely noticeable.



I sort of love how angry Plok gets when going into shell-mode; he is mightily pissed that these shells are on his person. Shell-mode makes the leaps-of-faith easier to digest since Plok can tear apart any flea stupid enough to cross his path on the way down, but those ever-dastardly waves just don't give a crap about no shells and are still pretty dangerous. You can't saw through water, people!

Through some manner of magical science, that delightful buzzsaw can make those pesky rock-logs explode into showers of confetti! Plok soon discovers that the watery areas of the stage have a new trick up their sleeve in the form of these lovely swinging platforms. Unlike any of the moving platforms we've seen to date, these seem to have a perpetual momentum that makes it a bit harder to correctly time jumps. To make matters worse, a wave usually rears its ugly, inconsiderate head the moment Plok lands on the platform. Jumping to avoid it is no problem, but landing back on the platform is pretty tough when the thing is obscured by a large blotch of blue.



Plok snatches the high-flying flea flag to recover some of that much-needed health. After all, Plok is required to by law to be in tip-top shape when finishing off the remnants of the hopping blue menace, lest he find himself at the sharp end of the National Razor. Good work, Plok! You've saved yourself from self-murder.






You have all your flags back, idiot. Just leave the poor thing alone and go back to ruling your empty kingdom. I'm starting to think this wasn't a journey to get your flags back at all; you just like killing stuff for the fun of it! Were you the one responsible for the disappearance of all the other Plok-folk? Did you smother them in their sleep with your arsenic-laced flags? All I can say is you'd better have a good explanation once all of this is over.



OH GOD, GIANT FIST! Who-



No... NO!



NOOOOOOOO!!!

N-Now that I've had a moment to calm my nerves, I can tell you about this super-sized Rockyfella. He primarily attacks you with his many fists, each of which kindly give us a clear indication as to when their emergence is imminent. Those mounds of dirt may seem like regular-ass piles at first, but take a closer look and POW! Right in the kisser! The only way to damage Rockyfella is to hit his head/body when it bursts out of the ground. The tricky thing is that he only rises after Plok has punched all of Rocky's extremities back underground.



As you at home have probably guessed, Rockyfella's main method of attack consists of trying to very slowly punch Plok with his mitts. Leaving a fist unpunched also gives it the opportunity to chuck rocks at our hero, so it's best for him to keep on his toes and quickly dispose of any fist that dares to clench itself near his person. Another of Rockyfella's attacks is a side-effect of his head popping out of the ground; when he does so, a small wave of debris shoots at Plok, but the wave is relatively easy to dodge. Rocky's final attack is only used when his head and shoulders are above ground; it's pretty much the same as a normal Rockyfella's main defense mechanism, only a lot faster and with more rocks flying at Plok at once.



The good thing about the Rockyfella fight is that if Plok is nimble enough, he can exterminate the 'Fella without ever having to see that last-ditch attack of his. As soon as the ground goes still from a lack of fisting, Plok can unleash a barrage of punches and kicks toward the right side of the screen; as Rocky rises from his underground abode, he will collide with one of Plok's limbs and promptly dig himself back into his hole. He makes for a pretty easy boss fight, and our felt-headed friend seems to think so, too!

So what's next, Plok? Any idea what you're going to do now that all your erm... lovely flags are back?



no what are you doing get out of there

Well friendos, sorry to burst your bubble, but we're all out of time! Be sure to check back here soon, we're super-close to the ker-azy season finale! HAVE A TIME!

I love it.

I love it so.

Absolutely the best LP ever

Man, that's a really cool boss. I am eagerly awaiting the next update.

Come on Plok just put a giant flea collar around your islands and call it a day.

GREETINGS, VIEWERS! It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it? Does my irregular programming schedule happen to get on your nerves?

Well I’m sorry! I try to do my best to entertain but if you’re gonna be all calling-the-cops about it, I might as well just turn myself in already!

Nah, just kiddin’. It’s CARTOON TIME, but not just any normal-ass cartoon time; it’s CARTOON TIME FEATURING RICH UNCLE SKELETON, colloquially known as BEAT!

Greetings, dear viewers! We're going to have a GHASTLY good time this morning, no BONES about it! Did I mention I’m a skeleton? I’m a skeleton!

You heard it here first, folks! Skeletons.



My goodness, Mr. Demo! It would appear that someone has left the strange red and yellow fellow a present! A secret admirer, perhaps?

Whoever it was must’ve been really dedicated, especially considering the Fleapit is the most dangerous place to be in all of Poly-esta. Maybe these presents were left behind by our surly hero on one of his many wild, liquor-fueled joyrides through the flea habitat. No wonder they stole his flags; he left unsightly tire marks on all their lawns!

Alcoholism! It’s not just for teenagers anymore!

Everything seems normal enough on this first level, but how long will the normal last before everything goes balls-out crazy? Let’s find out TOGETHER!



Aha! Here’s where it gets interesting. Rather than just having Plok get from one end of the stage to the other, the Fleapit levels all have some sort of vehicle that our hero must effectively master in order to move on to the next level. No two vehicles in the Fleapit are ever the same, and usually have their own physics and special attacks. This here is Unicycle Plok, complete with intense momentum action! He also has the ability to shoot streams of what looks like water from a conveniently-placed hose.

Uni-Plok’s jaunty little helmet takes me back to my days as a young skeleton growing up on the mean streets of THE TOWN. This one time, my grandpappy bought me my very own unicycle, which I rode down to the local discount store. There, I was involved in a minor altercation with some sort of young hoodlum. And that hoodlum one grew up to be the president!

Not of this country though.



The Fleapit houses various wretched abominations to fleakind within its gunge-encrusted walls, the most annoying of which are the aggravatingly persistent Flying Fleas. They tend to fly around in a circular pattern and almost always end up positioning themselves in the worst possible places to be. Luckily, they go down in only one shot; if anything, flying fleas further reinforce my belief that all winged things are horrible, evil monsters.

That’s all well and good, but I can’t help but stare at that broken egg! Something terrible has entered our world, Demo. Something that should not be.

What is this terrible feeling?

Is it fear?

That’s where those horribad flying fleas spawn from! Who knew that the egg menace had gotten this out of control? This first venture into the Fleapit also sees our first encounter with the odd-looking Shooter Fleas. Unlike regular fleas, these guys can’t move from the ground they’re bound to. In exchange for this newfound lack of mobility, shooter fleas have gained the ability to attack Plok from afar with unsightly blue projecticles. It takes three hits for our hero to murder one of these to death, and they’re fairly harmless when encountered one-at-a-time.



Plok’s bold journey across the terrifying land of swings and mud finally draws to a close by the great stone tentacle of Xcthunul’tch Gwaark’thc. Good old Xcthy is pleased with Plok’s years of loyal worship and animal sacrifice, and rewards him with two fully functional legs. We should all be as blessed when the ancient beast breaks free of its stone tomb and begins the twilight of out world!

It’s funny you should mention that particularly large tentacle gate, actually! These suction-cupped wonders act as the end-of-level markers for all the stages in the Fleapit. They’re different from the various other tenta-gates in the way they’re colored, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Plok found himself unexpectedly finishing a level thanks to that fashionable level of copy/paste design!

Also, you may have noticed that these Fleapit levels can be pretty short. Don’t you worry your squishy little heads, though, friends! Soon the Fleapit will toss us into stages that require all sorts of endurance and patience to get through in one piece. Let’s wish our hero CHANCE and LUCK!

May Xcthunul’tch watch over his tiny, limbless soul!



I am frightened by the implication that Plok’s universe has its own version of The Wizard of Oz.

The Fair Trade in Parody Act of 1987 requires that all media appropriate for children make at least one major reference to either the Wizard of Oz or Alice in Wonderland. We could have been seeing Plok grow several thousand times his size and getting harassed by a creepy cat. We got off easy.

You’re right! We could’ve been this close to American McGee’s Plok being a real thing. No living being deserves to be exposed to that. We’re perfectly happy with our bright colorful clay things that turn into...

Cars! This reminds me of something:



I was gonna say Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. But yes folks, it appears Plok has spontaneously generated himself a car. This is a defense that arose from billions of years of Plok-people being preyed upon by feral highways.

Well, it’s a good thing that mounted guns were a part of that evolutionary chain, otherwise our hero wouldn’t have any means of defending himself in that stylish gas-guzzler! The creators could’ve been total jerks by taking away Offroad Plok’s ability to jump, but thankfully they don’t hate us that much.




In reality, there is no place that the carefree car can casually cruise! Collecting clam carapaces, the cavorting crimson clunker callously crushes all contenders!

I see what you did there! GOOD WORK. Anyway, there are two different bits in this level that are made up of long stretches of ramps that are broken up by small spike pits. The farther along these roads that Plok goes, the shorter the ramps get, requiring both speed and timing to prevent a pointy demise. It’s unfortunate that Offroad Plok can’t straight-up run his enemies over, but them’s the breaks, I guess.



Oh look! A hideous new thing that we haven’t seen before!

Crimson Plok’s soul is aflame with the passion for combat! Marvel as he takes on the... the... is that a blue butt with eyes? What the hell, this is a kid’s show!

It even has a gross-sounding name! That’s one of those unsightly Spewing Fleas; they’re just like regular fleas except for the fact that they’re ugly as hell and perpetually shoot rocks from the top of their stupid heads. They change color just like the other blue fleas, too! You know what that means: green buttflea.

Let’s just skip that whole bit of nastiness and jump straight to the ending! Yes! The endings! You will find yourself overcome with joy as Plok celebrates his stunning victory over some foe that was definitely not a sentient blue posterior. Nope. Definitely not.






It’s not long before Plok ventures even deeper into the possibly foul-smelling depths of the fleapit, forever searching for a purpose that he will never find.

What about killing fleas? That’s almost like having a meaningful existence, right?

Well, not if they’re all dead, no. When that time comes, the only flea left to exterminate will be himself.

Oh! I wonder what sort of fun surprise this present holds?

That is the most American hat I’ve ever seen! Now I’m not saying that makes it the best hat ever, but I’m definitely implying it.

Yes, it is time for AMERICA PLOK, because I have no idea what to call that thing he’s riding on. I guess we could call it Rocket Plok, but we already used that once before! Everyone knows that originality is key in an ongoing series of adventures starring a temperamental lump of misshapen clay. Pressing jump in this thing makes it fly/hover, so that’s fun, but it also has the highly sought-after laser-gun attachment, which just so happens to make a very annoying noise.

Just like Evel Knievel! Man, that guy had the best hats and rockets and annoying lasers. Probably.



This level’s structured in such a way that requires a lot of careful tappin’ on that rocket boost; too much and Plok will go flying into some spikes; too little and he’ll plummet to a watery grave. Occasionally, he’ll need to stop and blast some barriers made of tiny flea eggs while dodging projectiles, but otherwise it’s pretty straightforward.

A question, Mr. Weasel: where did Plok get his pilot’s license?





Eventually, things really start to ramp up with the number of horrible shooting fleas that the level throws at Plok. To make things easier, he can destroy them with his trusty laser, but it’s still tough to even do that with all the floating death rocks slowly hurtling towards him.

Are those things tires attached to drinking straws? And here I was thinking that Super Mario was a little unusual! Regardless, at last Plok has reached the end and can celebrate his victory by asking to do the same thing all over again! And what answer shall we give him?

NO.

Thank god! For a moment there I was worried!



I don’t understand you, small clay man.

He’s lying. He has to be. There’s just no way he didn’t see this coming.

Well, perhaps he just has a very warped sense of what “fun” is. Remember, we’re talking about a being that has gone a nationwide flea hunt because they stole his flag. The one with his picture on it.

He’s just... very lonely, is all. Anything to get out of the house. Maybe he’s not even saving the flag anymore. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Believe it or not, this is the worst vehicle.

I don’t believe you. Just sayin’.

It’s completely true and for one very simple reason: the physics on this thing are all kinds of stupid. Like with Unicycle Plok, Motorcycle Plok has momentum that must be built up in order for him to clear a majority of the jumps in the stage. The problem with Motorcycle Plok is that the jump button only seems to work when it wants to, leading to the possibility of countless deaths that are far from wheelie-sweet. Even worse are Moto-Plok’s only weapons: grenades. These grenades fly in a very peculiar arc that make hitting enemies with them way harder than it should be. It could’ve been fixed if the grenades actually blew the hell up like grenades should, but they don’t.

I believe you now. Also, my heart might be broken.



Moto-Plok can’t even manually do wheelies! What kind of lame motorcycle-based attachment is that?

The tragic kind, Demo. The most tragic kind.

Even the level itself is refusing to compensate for Moto-Plok’s crumminess. It has the nerve to put egg hurdles all over the place that must be grenaded to the ground in order to have a clear path to the next DEATH RAMP. It mocks you by making an already boring, unfun level even worse.

At least there’s still tentacle gates, so it can’t be all that bad! In other news, I’m deep in denial.



These jumps in particular are probably the hardest/worst to make! Falling into the pit below means a session of Moto-Plok endlessly looping his “bounce-out-of-water” gimmick until he dies. It’s pretty damn hard for him to get back up on the platform, you know! Such tasks are considerably difficult for beings that are part crafting material and part motorcycle.

The second image there fills me with sorrow. It’s like watching a baby bird leave the nest only to plummet to the ground. Why must the world be filled with such suffering? We have combined clay and metal, and created sadness.



More tentacles gates and a sign with an exclamation mark on it. Rather than warning us of impending Bubsies, these signs indicate that either a short enemy gauntlet or a series of tricky jumps waits ahead.

That’s awfully considerate of the buttfleas to put up such warnings. Why, maybe deep down they’re actually decent fellows and not just horrible disgusting monsters that combine the worst aspects of fleas and glutes!

...Naaaaaw.

I really don’t want to imagine what a dank pit of fleas smells like, either. Especially with those derriere monstrosities roaming freely.

I don’t think you have to imagine. I would wager that deep down, we all know exactly what it would smell like, and we’d rather not dwell on it.

Make up your mind already! Is this fun or not?! Stop playing games with our viewers’ emotions, wiseguy!

In Plok’s defense, I’m not sure if he knows if he’s having fun or not either.

Well, I’m sure we’ll find out with whatever madness the latest and greatest present holds for him.



that’s a helicopter how did it even fit

Best Pilot, or best pilot ever?

Helicopter Plok is most certainly not the best pilot. He does handle the chopper pretty decently, though! The only problem is that it’s kind of perpetually descending, and pressing the jump bit repeatedly is the only way to keep it afloat. At least he can also drop shiny-looking explodo-bombs from it, right?



Okay, okay, so it controls like that mutant fox critter from that one forgotten SEAG game. That’s not so bad! At least it’s fantastic rock-throwing bazooka can kill fleas dead, right? I mean, that is what’s happening in the second frame there, right?

Well, even though it should be way more powerful than a fist to the face, a bomb does pretty much the exact same amount of damage as that does. There’s something super-annoying I didn’t tell you about flight, though; Heli-Plok can reach absurdly high speeds if left to his own devices, and colliding with level geometry means he ends up bouncing all over the damn place. This makes some of these spike-laden corridors pretty tricky to navigate.

Helicopters bounce now? This game is quickly exceeding the limits set by conventional sanity. I’m beginning to worry that this journey to the center of Poly-esta might be somewhat more metaphorical than initially suspected. We are traveling to the center of Plok’s soul, and there’s some seriously messed up stuff in here.

Oh god, it all makes sense now; those buttfleas must represent the king’s repressed se-

-dentary nature! This is a family friendly show! For all audiences!

You can make up the rules when you host your own show, fascist.



Maybe I’m just a silly follower of totalitarian ideology, but the more I see, the more convinced I am that operating a helicopter miles underground is a terrible idea! Plok, however, remains as fearless as ever, and boldly presses onwards through the maze of tunnels, brutally slaying any wildlife that dares to, uh, stand around in a nonthreatening manner.

That wildlife does have one advantage that our hero doesn’t, though! While Heli-Plok must bomb the egg-barriers surrounding the indescribable blobs of color before being able to hit them, their projectiles fly right the eggwall as if nothing were ever there! A bunch of cheats, I’ll say.



I don’t even know what the hitbox on this thing is.

It’s the gills, right? I mean, that’s what those things on the side are, aren’t they? That’s what lets it swim, there in the last panel. Obviously. Some sort of fish-chopper.

It can’t swim, actually! Heli-Plok has to be very careful here, because if he hits the water, it’ll rocket him up toward that very low ceiling, which in turn will bounce him back down into the water, creating the world’s deadliest game of superball.

And so, Heli-Plok flies his metal and clay self towards the tentacle pylon, signifying the end of this subterranean level revolving around flying machines and flea murder and... okay you know what none of this makes sense anymore. I’m not sure it ever did! Why tentacles? Why helicopters? Why am I even here!?

It’s a mystery that not even I can solve!

Well it doesn’t matter anymore! This episode is over, and I’ve got to get back to haunting my giant spooky mansion! Thank you kindly for having me with you on this glorious adventure in very British madness!

It was my pleasure! Just remember to keep our little deal on the down-low. We wouldn’t that other guy to find out about it!

But of course! Rich Uncle Skeleton doesn’t do 30/30/40 when 50/50’s an option!

Welp, see you next week for more MOVING PICTURES, everyone! In the meantime, don’t forget that anyone carrying a nightstick is possibly evil and wants to hurt your dogs. BYE!

This game is blowing my mind

I wouldn't have expected helicopters that touch water in a famously deadly game to react by repeatedly bouncing between the sea and the ceiling...

On the one hand, I'm sad that the normal presents don't get stages.
On the other, that would make the flea pit longer.

Fun Fact: Flea Pit was the cancelled original concept of an arcade game from these guys!

That fact is pretty fun!

So was writing this with demo!

That was totally mentioned in the second paragraph of the Plok archive the creators keep that I linked on the first page! So much nice Plok stuff, there! Also, nice to finally see stuff so far into the game! I think the Womack Spider is the farthest I ever made it, myself... Fight on, Plok! Though your limbs are all hanging lifelessly on hangers, and buttfleas spew forth projectiles to offend you, fight on!

indeed! It seemed timely to bring up now we'd arrived at the Fleapit proper.

I really just wanted another opportunity to link that archive, as nobody commented on it last time, and it is an amazing thing in my eyes.

Just playin'.

This does not bode well for our intrepid hero!

Well friendos, it seems like we’ve reached the end of the line. This gravy train could only keep going for so long before it had to make its final stop, and here we are.

Oh, who am I kidding? You want your CARTOOOOONS, right? Did you like that bit with good ol’ Rich Uncle Skeleton last week? I know I sure did. He was a pretty great guy; never stopped fighting the good fight.

He won’t be joining us this morning, but SE�OR STIV sure will!

Hello there, boys and girls. I’m glad to be here for the final episode of whatever this thing is, because we all love cartoons and are sad to see them die, but that’s what happens when you get old and drink a lot and throw your arms everywhere and then end up buying a giant bottle of whiskey to cry into every night. True fact: Plok is an alcoholic. Can I say that?

Seáor. those FCC rats could be watching us right now! I’ve heard they carry very large sticks that are all kinds of painful, y’know!

I wouldn’t know, I’ve only ever been shot. That didn’t hurt so much, but I guess that’s also because it was laser tag.

See, kids? Maybe if you wish really hard, you too will get shot by lasers and grow up big and strong like our pal Stiv!

Oh, and drink your milk, or whatever.



H...His outlook on this situation keeps changing. There’s no doubt about it; our hero’s gone off the deep end. What do you even do when you’re no longer able to distinguish between pain and pleasure?

Well, I think that Plok’s alcohol problem has reached critical mass here. He has gone from being a “happy drunk” to being an “angry drunk.” This is what happens when you switch to tequila, kids - take it from Seáor Stiv!

Uhh, if you say so!

Trust me, I’m an expert - I’m a Mexican! Olé, or whatever! Anyway, Plok looks like he’s ready for another adventure through the fleapit. What will today’s magic box hold? Will Plok turn into a kite? A box kite? A sybian? Only by paying attention can you ever find out, kids! Stay sharp!

Wait... what?



Well, uh, as some of our more cartoon-crazy viewers would recall from last week’s bit, I said that Moto-Plok was the worst vehicle in this thing.

I LIED.

I don’t see what could be worse than a clay blob with legs attached with velcro riding a motorcycle.



Maybe I spoke too soon.



I’m pretty sure all our loyal viewers at home are asking themselves, “But Mr. Weasel, how can a tank possibly be worse than a motorcycle? That thing’s got treads!”

Boy, do I ever have the answer for you: y’see, unlike most of the other vehicles deals in the fleapit, TANKPLOK has bad case of the Slow and Heavy. Tankplok’s unfortunate tendency to crawl along the floor at a snail’s pace is only made worse by the fact that his maximum jump height is around three inches.

You know, it looks like that thing is pretty sturdy. But that’s a goddamn lie, like what the Jews say, because whenever Plok fires his trashy gun it just kind of plops forward a few feet in front of the tank. Not only that, but it pushes the tank back whenever you fire, because in video games, firing heavy weaponry always does that, so I guess that Plok has to do that too. Oh yeah, and he still takes full damage. I guess because whatever the fleas are throwing goes straight through steel like a fat woman goes through a box of Twinkies.

You know what? If the Nazis had won World War II, I bet that this vehicle would rock. They had some great tanks. Small price to pay, just saying.

Wh-... N-Nazis? What do they even have to do with this-

Pretty sure it’s a law that every video game has Nazis, dude.



Well, uh, like our acquaintance Seáor Stiv pointed out, TANKPLOK’s attack isn’t that great. In fact, it’s the opposite of great. Not-good. You’d think that with such a crummy attack, our rageaholic hero would be better off traversing a level with fewer egg barriers.

I’m not seeing a whole lot of enemies in these screenshots. I assume it’s because this stage is platforming-oriented, which is of course exactly what a level where your hero is inside a giant death machine should be.

It’s true! For extra laffs, the fleapit architects propped up several egg barriers right next to narrow, oscillating platforms. Take a wild guess what happens if TANKPLOK happens to be in the wrong spot when he fires!

I’m going to take a wild guess and say “something bad.” The real question is: Is it worse than the time the police dug up my back yard and found my freezer box filled with severed asses?

...I sure hope you mean donkeys.

Some of them used to be part of donkeys.

How to Make Things Worse: Plok Edition - Steps 1-38: Make every successive egg barrier more resilient and surrounded by shooty enemies.

I like to imagine that in that final shot there, Plok is exuberant about getting out of that terrible tank. Also, isn’t it a little too late to tell the fleas to “eat lead,” Plok?

Hey, I never said he was a smart king.



That is the last thing you should be complaining about, clay-man.

I hope that in this level, Plok’s vehicle is a starship filled with the last trees from Earth and he accidentally kills his crewmates and then gives a bunch of robots dumb names and eventually sends them off into the stars to, I dunno, watch trees die or something.

I guess what I’m saying here is that the seventies are dumb.



Well, you got the starship part down, I guess! I’m not so sure about the dead crewmates and stowaway trees, though.

I’m not seeing any flying here. This is the lamest UFO since pretty much ever. I’d almost prefer the preachy heavy-handedness about important environmental issues. The trees are gonna die, man.

Makes me glad I burned all those hippies when they came back from ‘Nam.

Taking your hippie-burning fantasies out of the equation, UFO Plok totally does fly! There isn’t even any repeated button-pressing required to keep him afloat; all it takes to maneuver through these deadly tunnels is a good ol’ D-pad.

Well, they could’ve been fantasies. I was dropping a lot of acid. Remember, kids: Only use dealers you trust, because otherwise, sometimes there’s also some PCP on those LSD tabs.

But my crazy trip where I was on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and then suddenly the car flew into space which was also my bellybutton is totally beside the point, because if UFO Plok can fly, then it can’t be all bad. Right? Right?



See, he can fly! He can also shoot out a bunch of RING LASERS really quickly to make short work of both fleas and egg barriers alike. If only he could stay in there forever!

Well... I guess there had to eventually be a vehicle that did something right. I suppose they could do worse than ripping off one of the sweetest Gradius weapons.



This particular level has a bunch of these vertical shafts that are blocked by a series of egg barriers. The good news here is that UFO Plok can simply destroy these nuisance-walls by hanging out on the opposite side of the spiky barriers found in the middle of each shaft. It feels a little bit like padding, but the ring lasers make it tolerable padding, at least!

Cut them a little slack. Not every level of Plok can be sheer brilliance, and let’s admit that they at least made a vehicle that didn’t suck. Plus, you’re making it sound easy! This must mean that we’re about a quarter of the way through the actual game.

Well, it sounds easy, but the whole time UFO Plok is breaking down the egg barriers, shooter fleas are constantly bombarding him with their deathwads. It’s less easy and more annoying than you think!

And so, children, knowing that he was unstoppable in his mighty UFO of death, Plok did smite the fleas, and lo, he did smite the barriers, and lo, he did fly around thanks to much tender touching of the D-pad in its most special places.

Plok also seems to think we’re about a quarter of the way through the game, by the way. Because we’ve established that he’s a retarded alcoholic, this must actually mean that this was the final non-boss level.

You’ve got this game sussed out, Seáor! No more having to deal with crummy egg barriers! No more watery pits of death! No more egg barriers!

I don’t know why you’re so excited. The bosses are either really terrible or ridiculously easy. I guess we’re going to find out after this commercial break! It’s more suspenseful than that time I trapped a mime inside an actual clear box, and he slowly died from a lack of oxygen!

W-What’s so suspenseful about that?






THE TIME HAS COME! Though she may be able to hide behind the HUD, the Flea Queen can no longer run from our hero’s deadly fists of justice; she will have to answer for her heinous war crimes and for all the perfectly good carpet her flea gunge managed to crap up.

However, instead of finishing the job with something cool and rad, our hero decides that the most appropriate tools for the situation are a pair of springy shoes and a can of silly string. Way to go, tard.

See, now you’re getting into the spirt of it! You’d think that Plok would’ve done something smart, like, say... fly a UFO straight into the Flea Queen and say WELCOME TO POLYESTA while punching her in the face.

But when you’re an alcoholic, sometimes you make bad decisions. What we missed during the commercial break was Plok drinking an entire case of Boone’s Farm. True fact!

You don’t understand; If he had remained in the UFO, he wouldn’t ever have had the chance to wear that style Union Jack helmet!

Right. I almost forgot that Plok was made by a bunch of Limeys. Did you know they eat terrible food because they’re really Reptilian aliens? I read it on the internet.



I guess I should talk a bit about what the Flea Queen’s attacks are, eh? Well, like most other bosses in the game, she has a projectile attack that can be pretty tough to dodge with Spring Plok’s perpetual bouncing. After a short session of ick-flinging, she then poops her kids out at you from her butt.

Well, it doesn’t seem like the fleas are too much of a threat, because they’re just babies. And like all babies, they die in a single hit.

I really hope this isn’t something you’ve tested.



Oh god, that face she makes.

I... I swear I’ve seen that face somewhere before. But... where?



That sure is a woman who looks like she’s about to eat your soul! I probably should have mentioned that after you kill a batch of the newborn fleas, the queen stupidly drops from her safe place behind the HUD to give Plok a nice clean shot at her lazy-eyed mug. Intelligence seems like something of a foreign concept in Poly-esta, don’t it?

Actually, I have a hypothesis.

You see, back when Plok’s ancestors were roaming the ancient lands of Poly-esta, putting their flags everywhere both literally and metaphorically, Great-great-great-great-great-grandpappy Plok accidentally, in a drunken stupor... fornicated with a flea. The resulting horrifying mutant offspring, its development retarded by fetal alcohol poisoning, had an insatiable urge to get back at the Plok family by stealing their flags. And drink a lot. Also, they all had lazy eyes.

I’m not very good at this mythology stuff, am I?

I don’t even know anymore.

HOORAY. Y’know, for being such a tough game, Plok sure has an anti-climactic endboss. I’m pretty sure clayboy even managed to get out of that one unscathed!

This is such a disappointment. Plok could’ve beaten the Flea Queen with both of his arms and one leg tied behind his back, only kicking with one of his stumpy little leg-foot until she exploded in a shower of goo. For this, what? He expects a parade? Fireworks? A monument of his visage?

Let me tell you something, people. If you want a vision of the future of Polyesta, all you need to know is that it’s one of Plok’s limbs stomping on a flea’s face... forever.

Fight the power.

Well, we must get some sort of cool reward for making it all the way to the end in one piece, right?



=|

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. We went to war with you over less, England! We’re not going to stand this act of Plok-based aggression! Mr. Weasel suffered through this whole fucking retarded bullshit game of fleas and pits and pratfalls and goddamn miserable vehicle segments and for what? A picture of Plok sitting on a goddamn chair? You know what, if I owned an Amiga and this was 1988 and I was a moron this might be an acceptable ending. I might be able to forgive you, England. I might be able to forgive you for being mind-controlling reptiloids, but no. Not this. This is a video game hate crime. This is an act of aggression.

England, I am going to fuck your shit up so hard.

Shh, wait; did you hear a tapping just now?



I... I think so. That’s not friendly knocking, though. That’s police knocking!

OH GOD! I just bought that doo-

Jesus christ, it’s the FCC! Quick, put on this laser tag vest before they start shooting us!

I wasn’t built for this kind of pressure, man! I didn’t sign up for this! All I wanted to do was show cartoons and have a GOOD time!

Shut up! They’re only here because of your crimes, not mine! You’re the one who put BEAT’S skeleton... I mean, BEAT... in the basement!

He was already a skeleton! He’s been a skeleton! Suddenly you’re tryin’ to make me look like I’m the one who set that bus of school children on fire! It’s you! YOU’RE the flamer!



I... I, that wasn’t my fault! It was those kids, man! They made fun of my mustache, and... and I had to! I had to blow up that bus! But quick, help me reinforce this door, we can’t let them get into the heart of Cartoon Central, or I’m going to put your skeleton next to BEAT’S.

Fine, fine! Take it easy ma-



OH NOOOOOO! It IS the FCC!

Hey, hey, take it easy, man! I didn’t do all those extreme cusses and say that Plok was a sex-crazed alcoholic maniac! It.. it was all this guy’s fault! He’s the one who owns the studio and all the monitors and has all the jaywalking tickets!

A pound of lies! The jaywalking tickets, sure, but the FCC violations? Not me! Nev- SHIT, OW! That’s my eye, wiseass!

Step back, man! I can’t do hard time! I’m too pretty for jail! I - ack, get your hands off me! You’ll never take me alive, you’ll -

S-sorry kids! Looks like we’re gonna have to cut our - OW! Cut it out, asshead! - time short th-this week! Don’t forget to testify on my behalf! This has been your pal DemoWeasel, signing - OWW!

([un?]fun facts: The ending where Plok is sitting in the chair occasionally has the boss-noise which wakes him up and makes him look around)

Bravo. Brava. A play that they would not Let-

Don't worry kids, just some technical difficulties.