FF7 Remake jokes

With the new FF7 remake in high definition announced, fans eagerly await the sight of Tifa’s boobs, which will be comprised of an impressive 16 million polygons with 170,000 different textures.  Director Tetsuya Nomura tells us to “Look forward to the bouncing physics, as we have devoted an entire development team to programming them.”  Women’s rights activists who complained about the gender stereotyping were told to “Sit on a buster sword.”

The remake will probably cost the usual $60 dollars, which is about $700 less than what most of us would pay for it.

Many fans are worried that they may ruin the game by changing the story.  Developers addressed this concern by touting their new “Fluid Plot System”, which will allow you to import the FF7 fanfiction of your choice to play through in place of the official script.  Nomura did warn that “some fanfictions were noted to cause nausea and/or vomiting and should only be played with the consent of your physician.”

In one noted improvement, Yuffie will be replaced by George W. Bush.  Bush will now be a mandatory character and will be voiced by the former President, who is “excited to finally do something liberals will enjoy.”

The developers stress that the remake will follow the recent trend of allowing your player different moral choices with resulting consequences.  “Whereas before you were forced to hunt down and kill the WEAPONs, you now have the option of doing that, or romancing them.  If you succeed in wooing one of the WEAPONs you just might see a special scene just for adults!”  It was confirmed that there will be a gay WEAPON to romance as well, although “your fashion sense will need to be leveled to 99 if you want to have any hope of success.”

The long summons in the game have been replaced by episodes of the Bachelorette.  You will still not be able to control the outcome of the summon with button presses, but the developers note that “you can still pretend to.”

GameStop Trade In Comedy Skit


For about five seconds, we see the storefront of the Gamestop, setting the…setting.


Our shot starts centered on the gamestop Clerk, standing behind the counter.  We hear a door open and a jingle-bell ring.  The Clerk turns to the left, to our 2 customers who are still off-screen.

Welcome to Gamestop…where new games are born and old games go to die.
Can I help you kill something today?
JEN and FRIEND walk onto the screen from the left, and stop in front of the counter.  FRIEND is holding a bag of used games in her hand, but the camera should be so high that you can’t see the bag yet.

Yeah…actually, we were hoping to pick up the new Nerdy Fantasy 35.  Because I prefer watching movies that are 80 hours long.

Awesome!  Nerdy Fantasy is my favorite series because it never ends, no matter how bad it gets.
And I really like the hero, because he’s a cold and unfeeling jerk.
Anyways, if you buy it today, you get a unique costume for Yuni, the main girl.  It’s a red bikini with a thong…

Yeah…we’re not as interested in that as you are, buddy.

JEN (laughs)

No no no…See, the bikini top makes her the best character because she whips it off and throws it like a ninja star.  It hits all the enemies on screen with a 50% chance to faint. And it’s so shocking that it actually deals lightning damage.

That’s about as enticing as a flan’s farts.
So how much is the game?  I have fifty dollars, which I saved up by pouring lattes at Starbucks over the last seven months.  And I don’t even work there.

Nerdy Fantasy 35, new, is… $89.99.  $89.79 used.

Holy flaming chocobos!

Chill yo’ chocobos, girl.  We still have these old games to trade in.

FRIEND hefts the bag of used games up, bringing it on-screen, then plops it down on the desk with a bang.  It is very full and heavy.

Let’s see what you’ve got here…  *Searches through bag.*  Ooh! Super Plumber World 2!  That game is so fun that I actually ran through a sewer on my vacation, just to see the real thing.
It’s too bad the game remotes don’t have a smell emitter.  It would really add authenticity.  “Whee, jumping down pipes is fun!!  …Hey, is that poop?”
Uh…yeah.  So it’s a masterpiece.  And I bought it last year for 70 dollars.  I know trade-in values are bad, but I figure that one’s worth at least 15…

One dollar fifty.

Are you kidding me?  Mushrooms are $1.29 a piece.  Do you know how many mushrooms are in this game?!  There’s at least 10 on every level.

Sorry, I don’t like mushrooms.  That’s why I always jump on them.

*sigh* I guess the trade-in value I want is in another castle.

What about Unnecessarily Gory Combat 10?  We just bought that for $50.  It’s practically brand new.  I only played it for an hour…because Lizard’s Fatality was so gruesome that I threw up.  On my controller.

Yeah!  Then the controller vibrated and splattered it everywhere! Well, mostly on the cat.  But it was awesome.  It was a…*deep voice*   BARFTALITY.

Barftality!  That’s a great idea!  They should put that in!  “FINISH HIM!!!”  ….BLEGHHH!!!!!!

*fake* Yeaaahhhh! That would be so cooool!  So…trade-in value??

Unfortunately the PTA froze sales of the game so we can’t even accept returns on it right now.  It is basically as worthless as the block button.


Okay…time for our 3rd round.  There are ten Playstation 3 games and a console in there.  Now, I know you guys don’t normally take old systems, but maybe you can make an exception…

No, we still take Playstation 3 stuff.


…but they’re so old that their trade-in value is actually negative.  You will need to pay us 315 dollars to take these games from you.  Alternatively, you could trade in 10 PS4 games to make up the money that you lost.

What?! That’s ridiculous!  You know as well as I do that there are only 9 PS4 games worth buying!
*rubs her head*
Look…there’s got to be some way for me to get Nerdy Fantasy 35.  I’ve got fifty bucks here.  That’s half of it.

*calmly*  Well, we accept used Kidneys for $40 store credit.

Hmmm. That’s not a bad deal.  Where’s the kidneys at again?

*points to under his ribcage*

Okay.  *suddenly turns to Friend* Raggghhhhh!!

JEN grabs at the side of FRIEND’s stomach and tears at it like she is ripping out a kidney.  FRIEND screams.  Change shot to counter.  FRIEND is off screen screaming.  JEN plops down a bloody kidney onto the counter.

There!  A Kidney!!!  Is that good enough?  I just killed my friend over this, and I don’t even get experience points!  So, GIVE ME THE ‘BOCO-RIDIN’ GAME!!!

*Scoops up kidney, puts it away, then hands game over happily.*  Here you go.  You will really like this one.  They worked hard to make the graphics the only good part of the game.

Ooooh yay!!!!!  *snatches the game quickly*

Oh, and check this receipt for the code for the Attack Bikini.  It starts with OMGWTH. *hands receipt*
Jen walks off Camera to left, leaving store.  Door slams, bell jingles.  Camera zooms out to reveal FRIEND laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, dead, with a big red bloody stain over her kidney and a painful expression.  The shot stays like this for a few seconds.  Then FRIEND suddenly turns her face over to the camera with big eyes and says in a deep voice, as the words also appear in  big red letters on the screen:



The end.


2300 Aierophyx Era

There was a humming in the background, an unfamiliar, yet constant humming.  Its lack of brightness made it distant; she thought it must be his air conditioner, but it sounded so perfectly smooth, never breaking up, never stopping.  Maybe it was a refrigerator or a bathroom fan.  She could ask him, but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t listening.

“…although many of my peers are under the impression that dreams do not have any real meaning, I believe that dreams are a method for our subconscious to present and resolve conflicts that the conscious mind cannot or will not handle.”  His shoes were bright and brown, flat and undecorated, no tassel, only creases over the toes—they looked like any other dress shoe, but somehow they emanated “expensive.”  Which, of course, they were.  He was a popular doctor, and especially popular with Sharon.  She might as well have bought those shoes for him instead of paying the secretary month after month.  But she needed him.

“If that’s true,” she said, stumbling over the words in her mind as she stared at his shoes, “…how do I make them…how do I make them stop?  Please.  Although she could not look him in the eye to beseech him, she did lean forward as she said the word.  Her right hand, closed on her lap, twitched, the bones in her wrist tightening against each other.

“Sharon, as a psychologist, I believe that the patient is ultimately responsible for the cure.  I simply guide you to the problem.  And your problem is clearly a sense of helplessness.  Would you agree?”

“Helplessness…yes…that’s what I feel.  That’s it exactly.  I’m helpless, and there’s no way out.  They have complete control over me.  Over my life…and it’s more than I can take.  So what am I supposed to do?  How do I stop them?”

“Your sense of helplessness originates from fear.  You are afraid of confronting reality, afraid of the unknown, afraid of the future.  This is common, I feel it sometimes, too.  But your fear has grown to an extreme.  It has permeated your mind and your body to the extent that you have this recurring dream each night.  As I said before, the only way to destroy the symptom is to attack its cause.  Put simply, you need to face your fear.”

“But…my fear comes…it comes from the fact that I can’t do anything.  How am I supposed to ‘confront reality’ when…when I have no hope!”

“There is always hope,” he said, “Except in the most cruel of circumstances.”

She heard muffled voices from beyond the room.  It sounded like three or four people, grunting unrecognizable words.  Perhaps some sort of primal scream therapy.  This was a psychiatrist’s office, after all.  Still, the foreign sound of it unnerved her.

She swallowed.  “I’ve tried.  I’ve tried.  Again and again, to escape.  To change things, somehow.  To fight them, if only for a moment.  I’ve struggled so hard, and I’m so tired, and nothing I do helps me, because nothing can help me.”

“I can help you, Sharon.”  She heard the scratching sound of a pen on paper.

Sharon repressed a laugh.  “Can you?  Can you?”

He didn’t answer.  “Tell me, what is it you feel you must escape?”

Sharon’s body shook, her neck grew taught.  “You know, you know, I’ve been here before, and I’ve told you.  Don’t make me say it again…”

“I’m just trying to hear it in your own words.  I think, more than anything, you need to talk about it.”

“No.  No.  I can’t.”  She was so cold…she pulled her jacket tight over her chest, but it didn’t warm her.  Her skin prickled, and she shivered.  Did they have the A/C set to kill intruders?

“Okay, Sharon.  If you can’t talk about what’s wrong, can you tell me how you feel…?”

“I feel…God, I feel shame most of all!  But it’s not even my fault.  I had no choice.  Why should I feel shame?”

Cold, she was cold.  Beyond the scratching of his pen, she heard the grunting men, resuming their nonsensical conversation.  Then there was the clink of glass bottles being picked up, and the rattling of metal on metal.  What were they doing in there?

“That’s alright, Sharon.”  “Go on…”

“I…I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me next.  Afraid of losing my sense of self completely.  Afraid I’ll never be able to go home.”

The scratching stopped.  There was a pause.  “Sharon, when you say, they, are you referring to real life?  Or to your dream?”

Sharon bit her lip, and said nothing.  She’d talked to him before, he should know.

“That’s okay, if you are uncomfortable then you don’t have to answer.  Let me say a few things, then.  I think that you have suffered a great blow, and your ego has been damaged, so damaged that you are unable to believe in yourself anymore, unable to believe in your own power.  That frustration with yourself manifests in your dreams.  I think the first step in resolving this is self-affirmation.  You have to believe that there’s a way for you to change things for the better!”

She laughed, but only despair was in it.  “That’s easy for you to say!  Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?  You couldn’t imagine it, even if I told you!”

“Calm down, Sharon.  And remember, this isn’t about me—this is about you.  I’m just trying to help.  Can you breathe for me?”

Somehow, she couldn’t.  “No…I’m too upset.  There’s just…too much going on right now for me to calm down.  I’m getting assaulted from everywhere at once.  Physically, mentally, emotionally…I’m just…completely drained, and I don’t know what do anymore.  Please…you’ve got to help me!  Give me some medicine–”

“There is no medicine,” he said.  “There is no magic cure.”

She whimpered.  It was so cold.  She rubbed her freezing fingers against each other, but felt no heat.

“Try this, for me, Sharon. Right now, envision yourself as a happy, successful woman who is comfortable in her surroundings.  See what that person is like, and try to become her, in your imagination.  Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t need to imagine her—I was her!”  Tears watered beneath her eyes, but were too frightened to emerge.  “I used to be this…this power in the world!  I was beautiful, I was bright, men beat each other bloody for me and companies crawled over each other to hire me.  I had more friends than I could remember all at once, and even strangers seemed to know my name!  And now…”

She stopped.

“And now…”

“Yes, it’s okay, Sharon.  Take a breath, and go on.”

She breathed.  The strange male grunts in the room beyond grew to a frenzy of snorting and clucking and throat-clearing.  She wanted to cover her ears.  Because now, she recognized what it was.  Recognized it, but dared not think it.  Dared not accept it.

“And now…I’m lost!  Everything I had was taken from me by this nightmare…by them. Each night I dream that they come for me, they come for me while I’m asleep, in the darkness they come for me and they—and they take me!  WIth their cold, skinless hands they grab me by the arm and pull me out of bed and they talk to me in their guttural, nonsense language and I don’t know what they’re saying but they take me, God, they take me! –up into their blinding light, into that freezing metal room, and they tie me down and they…and they….and they….oh God!  Oh God!  Oh God!  I can’t…”

Hands over her eyes as she sobbed into the darkness, shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the memories.

She heard creaking, the creaking of leather, the sound of his shoes groaning as he stood up.  They whined further as he walked to her side.  She was startled by the hand on her shoulder, that hand of—was it reassurance?— that gripped her shoulder.

The humming in the background grew louder.  As she struggled to remember what it was, the nerves in her shoulder told her that his hand only had three fingers.  Three fingers….three fingers!

“It’s not a dream,” he whispered in her ear.

She screamed and flailed her hands in front of her, trying to fend off reality as it crashed back into her.  Her eyes wide open now, the floor of the doctor’s office was gone, and in its place was—black eyes!  Huge, solid black eyes, popping out of a too-smooth gray-blue face, skin oily and transparent and filled with jagged purple veins—and a tiny, tiny, lipless mouth, a mouth that smiled at her as it leaned closer.  She was naked and cold and her hands, her real hands, were bound to her side by some invisible restraint, bound to the narrow and comfortless operating table.  She thought then to kick, but, her feet were bound too—spread apart so that her private self was revealed to them, revealed and open, and he—yes, it was a he—squeezed her shoulder as he neared her, still smiling, as she screamed and screamed and screamed at him, at the others surrounding her, watching…

…There was a humming in the background, an unfamiliar, yet constant humming.  Its lack of brightness made it sound distant; she wondered what it could be.  She smiled as she stared at the doctor’s classy, too-good leather shoes.  “Back again so soon?” he said.  “Well, that’s fine, I am here to help.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “But I need you right now.  I need you.”

“That’s alright, Sharon.  So, relax.  And tell me…what’s bothering you?”