The happy axe (murderer)
This is not normal behavior. Leif (is that your REAL name?) here likes to place the word 'happy' in front of everything she sells. Happy red cosmos bags, happy saplings... it's a good job she doesn't work in a chemist. 'Happy hemorrhoid cream' anyone?
We suspect she's a manic depressive constantly telling herself everything's OK. Maybe that's why she only sells seeds and saplings. The 'rebirth' end of the spectrum. So we'll keep buying her 'happy axes' just so she doesn't have any in stock when she finally snaps and goes 'happy postal'. The happy weirdo.
Wait... I don't even...
Labelle here works in the fashion industry. Now, we admit we don't know lots about fashion, but we know what we like. And we don't like the idea of walking around with two slices of cucumber stuck to our face.
Yes, our avatar is smiling, but only because he's humouring the mad hedgehog. HOW is this 'the flashy look', Labelle? Flashy to us means a sharp tux and a gold wristwatch. Not finely sliced cucumber stuck to our face. Get with the program.
PEWCUMBER?!!!
What is it with these guys and cucumbers? Kapp'n here, who steers the ferry from the town to the Tropical Island, loves to sing shanties to while away the journey. Yes, there's a certain melancholy to his melodies, but there's also more than a hint of 'bonkers-itis'.
And how can a cucumber be someone's best friend? Alright, don't answer that.
What are you SAYING?
This is Midge. One of the first animals we ever met in our humble town of Longoria. She's obviously eager to welcome us so is throwing compliments around like they're going out of fashion (unlike cucumbers which are obviously 'in').
Only these are either the hollowest compliments ever seen or she's gone completely insane. Look at the room. The default floor. The default walls. A basic bed, metal filing cabinet, the lamp we were given on the first night, and a record player. How is that 'filled with our personality'? Unless you're saying our personality is a featureless void decorated with a delicate layer of crap? Engage your brain before you speak.
Dog daze
Wait... is that it? That is it, isn't it? Not an invitation to dance with you (even though we can and have done in the AC world), but rather a statement there isn't enough dancing going on in general.
Well, you sure fixed that, Shep. You sure fixed that.
What does that even mean?
This is meant to be prophetic. Philosophical. Is it? We can't tell. We've thought about this statement for so long, the words don't even make sense. Bad times ARE times that are bad, but does that negate the effects of the undesirable situations contained therein? Well, does it? ANSWER ME!
But Katrina won't elaborate, instead leaving you to ponder what must surely be words of utmost wisdom. Words that more 'normal' people can't possibly comprehend. Y'know, cos we're not clinically mental.
Easy, Lenny...
Funny thing with this slide is that we've forgotten what Gulliver was talking about. He does like to go on travels (oh, we just got that. Come on, now...) so perhaps he was talking about something he'd seen. A polar bear? A swan?
But that's fine, we have no problem with the basic concept of what he's saying. It's the "pet and pet and pet and pet and pet" that concerns us. No, Gulliver, you can't touch our hair. You'll muss it.
You want tea on your WHAT?
Kapp'n, I fear you've been at sea too long without any meaningful social interaction. Your songs have been about cucumber, mayo and how your wife's wet hair looks like a plate of spaghetti. But this one takes the biscuit.
You want tea. On your feet. The worst thing? It doesn't even rhyme.
Are you sure?
If you follow the GamesRadar Twitter account, you'll have seen this one already. Sometimes you'll find a lost item lying on the ground and you'll need to ask around the town to track down its owner. In this case, it belonged to Dierdre, who was so overwhelmed by the return of her lost item, she gave us a flat-screen TV.
Isn't that lovely? Oh, but you're probably wondering what the lost item was. Well, we can tell you that. It was a bag of donuts.
Crayola fixes all
Of course! Why didn't we see it before? The key to happiness is a blue crayon. My god, Midge. You must be some kind of genius to come up with that. Existentialism? The pursuit of true happiness as a life goal? Pfffft. It can all be solved with a blue crayon. To think of all the poor, misguided, clueless philosophers like Plato and Socrates who wasted their life debating a problem that only existed because Crayola hadn't been invented yet.
Please stop talking to us. We're scared your insanity is contageous.
