Out of the several role models in our lives, the video game heroes from our childhoods hold a special place. Out of all media, video games are the most vicarious; we not only watch the heroes on their journey, we are the heroes. To the spongey brain of a child, this degree of escapism is a happy, happy glitch.
As children, however, the areas of our brain responsible for logic and reasoning need work, as do the parts that pay respect to the absolute godliness of our own abilities. Many of these heroes are actually weak little weaklings, aided by the bias of the stories they’re a star of and by the tools granted to them by their makers. Under several circumstances, even we, mortal human beings, can whoop some serious video game hero tushies, and we wouldn’t pull that much of a sweat doing it. Not much of a sweat at all, actually.
In researching this article, we actually ended up killing a lot of the video game heroes we looked up to as kids. Oops. Should’ve seen it coming, though. Anyway read with some caution, and if you feel you’ve lost a little weight after reading this article, it’s probably just your childhood evaporating.
Yoshi approached us kindly, curiously, not knowing that we were on a mission to prove ourselves by disproving him. After a few well-placed punches to his big eyes, the kindness and curiosity gave way to anger and determination. He struck us with his long tongue, which we caught with utter ease and used it to twirl his body like a helicopter amid his horrific cries of “Awawawawawa.”
When the confirmation of his impending death dawned on his goofy green face, Yoshi was too broken to jump away. In a last-ditch attempt to save his life, he gulped us up into his stomach and crapped us out as an egg. Panting and bleeding on the floor, Yoshi whimpered a weak “Yahoo,” thinking the victory was his.
Little did he know that all the egg-lay accomplished was to build our rage further. We broke free of the egg, jumping 25 feet in the air, and landed on the poor dinosaur with a two-fisted gorilla strike, breaking Yoshi into a million red-green pieces.
It was a day like any other on Olimar’s uncharted planet. He was out for a walk, looking for ship parts to collect. Turning a corner, Olimar saw his nightmare come to life: a mountain of a thousand dead Pikmin bodies. The only thing worse than the smell was his sense of total heartbreak. A shadow loomed over him, then over the pile of dead Pikmin. It’s not sundown yet, isn’t it? No, it’s us, coming in hot behind poor little Olimar.
We placed those Pikmin there specifically so we can see the look on his face as he watches the only friends he had in the world rot before he joins them. Olimar ran, oh, he ran, but how fast can an inch-tall little alien man run? Not fast at all, and definitely not faster than us.
We gave him a 10-second head start, then took one giant step in front of him. Olimar had nowhere to go. We picked him up, his limbs flailing like mad, put him into our mouths and chewed him like a string of arugula. When the crunches stopped, we spat Olimar’s mush onto the pile of dead Pikmin, and went to find something else to eat on the uncharted planet.
13 Prince (Katamari Damacy)
Oh Prince, you thought you were so tough with your crazy domino superpowers? Well guess what, we found a way to demagnetize your little body, so that you had no superpowers at all. You begged, you pleaded, but we were on a mission to prove something here.
Accepting that his fate would come down to this fight to the death, Prince charged at us and, with all his might, punched the side of our foot (the highest point his 5 cm-tall frame could reach), which felt to us like a welcome breeze.
Fighting for his life, Prince unleashed a barrage of punches on our foot, each strike robbing more and more of his energy, each strike feeling more and more like a happy wind against our stinky foot. Eventually he collapsed, gave us the finger, and lay down. We stepped on him, heard a sick snapping noise, and that was the end of Prince.
12 Ash Ketchum
Poor little Ash. We snuck into his room while he was sleeping and threw his Pokeballs down the garbage disposal. He woke up in a fit, not knowing where his Pokemon were, and burst into tears when he found them as a bloody mess at the bottom of the sink.
He ran out of the house to go cry to Professor Oak, but guess who was blocking his path: us. He said, “Hey get outta my way!” and we said, “No.”
In a bloody rage, he charged right at us and gave us a well-placed uppercut to the chin. Ow, that hurt a little bit. We put our thumb to Ash’s neck and pressed down hard, paralyzing his body completely. We picked the boy up, walked down to the Pallet town lake, and threw him in the water. Ash drifted to the bottom. When he woke up, he was in the next world.
Ahh, Luigi. Where was your brother? Out saving his girl as always. Left his poor brother home alone, as always. He thought you’d be safe, and so did you. But not that day, Luigi, not that day.
Luigi was on the couch, scared to death over nothing. That day, of all days, he had a reason to worry. He heard a knock on the door and farted loudly into the couch cushion out of sheer nervousness. He opened the door a crack, saw our shadowed face, and gulped.
“It’s the candy man, Luigi,” we said. “Would you like to buy some candy?” Luigi whimpered, “No, please,” and tried to close the door. Too bad our core strength was 10 times greater than his. With one kick, we broke the door into a million splinters. Luigi flew back into the house and cracked his head over the Italian brick fireplace. We walked over to him to finish the job, but stopped when we saw that he wasn’t moving. We checked his pulse — nothing. The knock on the head put him to sleep, but the cause of death was sheer fright.
10 Edward (Final Fantasy 4)
Edward, crown prince of Damcyan, the man in line to become the seventh king. Sorry to say, Eddie, but your blood line ended — in blood. Edward was playing his harp, as he always did, his back against a lush Final Fantasy tree. There was a notebook by his side, and once in a while he jot down a poetic observation, then returned to playing.
He saw a shadowy figure in the distance walking his way. The silhouette brought to mind something lyrical, dark and observant, so he jot it down. When he looked up from his notebook, he saw us looming over him.
We snatched the notebook from his hands, read the last few pages, and threw it to his face. “What a load of crap,” we said. Then we picked his harp, ripped a sweet Van Halen solo, then bashed him across the head with the harp, ending him instantly. We walked away with his notebook in hand — reading material and toilet paper for our upcoming bowel movement.
9 Lester (Lester the Unlikely)
On a desert island, poor Lester’s limbs were quaking as he came face-to-face with a turtle, who was slowly making his way toward the water, not even noting the existence of the terrified man before him.
Painfully aware that courage was the only thing that would make him survive the island, Lester inhaled deeply, took a few trembling steps toward the turtle, and patted it on its shell. The turtle barely even noticed the man’s hand as he continued making his way toward the water. Lester leaped into the air with his fist punching the sky, screaming, “Great Success!” Little did he know, there was someone else on this island: Us.
We snuck up behind Lester, whispering into his ear, “Great job, Les.” Lester immediately wets himself and assumes the fetal position. We picked up the turtle, removed its body from its shell and threw it into the water. The turtle said, “Thanks dude,” and backflipped gracefully before plunging to the depths. We picked up the sobbing, snotty Lester with one hand, and stuffed his adult body into the small turtle shell. The sobbing stopped abruptly, and the island was silent at last.
8 Blob - Clayfighter
Blob was in the alley where he lives, making a boxing glove out of his body and punching the brick wall. He was a fighter, after all, and practice was the only thing that would give him an edge against his foes. What else was there for a fighter blob to do besides train, anyway? The answer is: run.
We were walking down the alley with our own boxing gloves that we inherited from our dear grandfather, champion amateur boxer back in his day, with a record of 19-1. Blob saw us and, being a fighter, immediately sensed our intent to hurt him. He split his body into two long arms with boxing gloves at each end.
We sparred, and it was utterly one-sided. While Blob tried to put himself one step ahead of us, we were already eight steps ahead of him. We blocked, parried, dodged, and directed excruciating strikes into Blob’s weakest points. After less than a minute, Blob was completely defeated. He slumped down, looking up at us.
“Finish it,” he said. We bent down to our knees, put our lips to the top of Blob’s head, and slurped him all up, not leaving one green drop to the alley. We farted the Blob out gradually as we walked away.
Jigglypuff was in the tall grass of Route 3, with the microphone he just found in Pewter City. He was utterly, indescribably happy to have found this microphone. Jigglypuff loved nothing more in life than to sing, and now his voice was amplified for all of Route 3 to hear.
He closed his eyes, brought the microphone to his lips, and sang a beautiful hymn: Ji-ga-lee-ee-pa-aa-aaff, Ji-ga-lee-ee-ee-pa-aaffI. All the people and Pokemon in Route 3 felt a sense of great bliss before falling to the floor in a deep, wonderful sleep. Not us, though; we brought earbuds.
When we catch sight of the pink puff ball, we broke into a heavy sprint towards him. Jigglypuff, caught by surprise, dropped the microphone and jumped at us with a fierce Pound attack. We smiled, catching his little fist, and tightened our grip until we heard it crack.
“Jiggalee!” Jigglypuff screamed in complete pain and terror. Still clenching his broken fist, we pulled a safety pin from our perfectly coiffed hair, and placed it gently to his stomach. Jigglypuff exploded instantly, and floated down to the floor as a soft, pink pancake. We picked up the mic only to drop it again, then made our way to Mt. Moon.
Kirby was out doing what he does best: terrorizing the citizens of Dreamland. He was swallowing Scarfy’s, Waddle-Dee’s and Blade Knight’s like they were nothing. He had no ears to hear their cries of protest. Even if he did, his politics were permanently etched into his mind: King Dedede is evil and wrong and should be killed, and the same applies to those who fight for him.
The politics of Dreamland are of no importance to us; we were there because we had something personal to prove. As Kirby continued on his side-scroll, swallowing Dark Matter’s, Octacon’s and Yin-Yarn’s, he ran into a previously unseen obstacle: us.
A glint of determination in his eye, Kirby leapt into the air and used his powers of inhalation to swallow us whole. Thinking himself victorious, Kirby attempted to swallow us and absorb our infinite power. But there was a problem: the food wasn’t going down.
Kirby gulped and gulped, but we remained completely in tact, a pit in his stomach. When we grew tired of the game, we stretched our arms and pointed our fingers outward. Kirby shrieked in fear as two hands appeared from inside of him. We grabbed a tuft of his pink skin, got a good grip, and ripped Kirby in half from the inside. A million of Dedede’s minions explode out of him from all directions, running back to their homes and families. We didn’t give a damn, our point was proven.
Pac-Man couldn’t possibly have thought his little buffet would last forever. Even his nugget brain must’ve realized that, eventually, someone would drop into his little 2-D world and end him indefinitely.
The day it happened was a day like any other; Pac-Man ate an impossible amount of fruit, way more than his sustenance required, while battling the pathetic ghosts that stood in his way. Fighting ghosts is a good way to stay in shape and keep on one’s tones, but it’s definitely no way to prepare for us.
We put a quarter into the machine, rendered ourselves to 2-D form, and entered Pac-Man’s domain. He was at the end of a successful game; the ghosts were dead and almost all the fruit was gone. He was happily chomping his way toward the very last cherry. Before he could get to it, we snatched it right out of his sight and gulped it down joyfully.
“Mmm, delicious,” we said. We spat the pit of the cherry into Pac-Man’s forehead. The force of the impact gave him a concussion, and he went right to sleep. Pac-Man snored away as we devoured his entire body, stomach first. Instant karma. Game over.
“Exodia, obliterate!” Yami Yugi shouted his grandiose line to a poor little kid as the mighty Exodia proceeded to obliterate all of his life points. The game was over, and Yami Yugi reverted back to his pathetic child form, Yugi Moto. Yugi thanked his opponent for the battle and proceeded to go on his way. But an overwhelmingly beef person stood blocking his path: none other than us.
“Ever play 40 card pick-up?” we asked. We took Yugi’s deck of cards out of his hand and threw them all into the wind. Poor Yugi didn’t even move a muscle, he was so scared. We slapped him in the face twice: once for respect, the other for discipline, and he fell to the floor.
“Help me, Pharaoh Atem,” Yugi pleaded to the skies. But the Pharaoh did not answer. We pulled out a deck of 52 playing cards and threw them individually at the poor boy. The speed of the flying cards was incredible, and the edges were sharp as knives. The light in Yugi Moto's eyes would go dim by the 8th card, but we finished the deck anyway.
It was just another sunny day in the rural village of Animal Crossing. Villager was happily planting some seeds, dreaming of the beautiful fauna they would one day grow into. What he didn’t know was that he would never live to see them bloom. There was a dark stranger on his way to the village, and his name was us.
Once Villager was done his daily tasks which, aside from the planting, included grooming some of the local fauna and refurnishing his house, Villager took some time to socialise with the neighbours he had formed close friendships with. They spoke their nonsensical language, presumably talking about vegetation and animal life. Suddenly his friends stopped speaking, and their mouth dropped open as a shadow loomed overhead.
Villager turned around, only to be struck in the face by his own shovel. The village’s other inhabitants trembled as we took his limp body into his garden. No one moved a muscle to stop us; no one dared to. We took our time to dig a perfectly square hole amid the bushes and flowers. When we were done, we dropped the limp Villager into it, and packed the hole shut. He would wake up hours later, hours too late.
2 Earthworm Jim
Earthworm Jim had a dream one night. He was fighting off a murder of crows who were after his delicious worm skin and guts. The range and power granted to Jim by his plasma blaster made quick work of the crows, but he felt a greater enemy approach, an enemy more powerful than any he had ever encountered. When he turned around, he saw the shadow of a black figure. Then his vision went blank, and he woke up in a fit of disgusting worm sweats.
“Wow, what a weird dream,” he said. In the distance, he saw a large murder of crows approaching; in fact, it was the exact same amount of crows that were in the dream. He pulled out his plasma blaster and unleashed its rapid fire on the crows, ending them in no time at all. But Jim’s sense of deja vu and impending doom felt too real to be paranoia. He turned around and there we were, unarmed but very much a threat.
Jim unleashed a barrage of plasma fire that we easily deflected with one hand. Backing into a corner, with no options left, Jim fell to the ground, begging for his life. We hesitated for a second, thinking Jim might be of use to us somehow. It was only a second, though; we took Earthworm Jim’s plasma blaster and zapped him to total nothingness.
Out of all video game heroes on this list, Rayman proved to be the most difficult to fight. His great strength and reach were absolutely key assets in any battle, even against us. But the level-ups we acquired from defeating everyone else on this list gave us the confidence we needed to end Rayman indefinitely.
We boxed and boxed, for days and nights. With his incredible range, Rayman easily landed more blows than we did. However the hits that we did connect were well-placed and incredibly piercing.
After a week of incessant battle, we saw a single glimmer of sweat appear on Rayman’s forehead, a sure sign that his endurance was waning. What he didn’t know was that we’ve been fighting at merely 60% of our full capacity for the entire battle.
As soon as we saw his exhaustion set in, we cranked it up to 90%, and hit Rayman with an uppercut so strong, it sent his head into the Sun. We dragged the rest of his body to a lake, where a gam of sharks feasted on every bit of him. Game over, video game characters.