LITTLE BIG PLANET
There was once a perfectly knitted being known as Sackboy. Not the most attractive name, I’ll give you that, but Sackboy was a charming little man with buttons for eyes and a zip, which if undone, would give instant access to his chest cavity. He just loved life; it could be to do with the fact that either he or his creators are blatantly high on some form of mind altering drugs. See, just like Santa, Sackboy wasn’t real. He was in fact a figment of everyone’s imagination. He lived on a planet which was both small and large where wool was currency and where pessimists weren’t welcome; just like…um…Wow. Is no where friendly these days? Anyway, one day, whilst baking cookies and laughing joyfully with his family, Sackboy heard word that a terrible thing had happened in LittleBigPlanet, much worse than the time Sackgirl had her watering can stolen. Somebody was kidnapping people! Oh noes!
So Sackboy left his Pod on a mission to save everyone. Upon venturing outside he noticed he was in The Gardens: a homely area with lots of greenery and birds chained to tress…wait…birds chained to trees? Maybe this place isn’t so nice after all! He skipped merrily along the spongy floor and came across Creator Curator: The King. The King made a noise which you or I would never have understood but Sackboy was fluent in nonsensical gibberish.
THE KING: Hello Sackboy. How are you today?
SACKBOY: I’m good thanks. What’s going down my man?
Sackboy was very hip and current.
THE KING: Someone is kidnapping our beloved citizens. We are all too lazy to do anything about it. Can you help?
SACKBOY: Fo’ Sho’. Point me in the right direction and I’ll get on it.
THE KING: Okay, but first there are 921 things you need to learn, such as how to hold on to certain things…
SACKBOY: Grandad, look. I can use a dual-phase subatomic particle accelerator with my eyes closed. I don’t need your lessons. See ya.
So Sackboy skipped back into rescue mode and made his way through The Gardens. He had regretted dismissing the tutorials so quickly. He was sure he was grabbing things in time but he kept missing. He’d only just started and yet he was having a stressful time. If it weren’t for the relaxing and endearing music, he surely would have quit and gone home already. But he finally got the hang of things and soon found himself swinging around like Tarzan. He soon encountered another LBP resident: Humpty Dumpty.
H. DUMPTY: Oh, hello there my friend.
SACKBOY: What do you want egg boy?
H. DUMPTY: Nothing. Just saying hello.
SACKBOY: Shut your face baldy or I’ll happy slap you.
His charm seeped from every pore. Sackboy reached The Castle. This was a daunting building with magical cardboard boxes flying around the place. The cardboard had pictures of ghosts on them. Scary! He ducked and dived through The Castle, up lots and lots of stairs and eventually emerged on the roof. Waiting there was Humpty Dumpty.
H. DUMPTY: Took your time!
SACKBOY: How the hell did you get up here?
H. DUMPTY: Well, now that would be telling.
SACKBOY: Whatever, numpty. Ha ha. That rhymes. Humpty Dumpty the Numpty. That’s you!
Sackboy noticed that Mr. Dumpty was sat on a skateboard. He slyly edged his way to the precipice of a hill and in one swift motion, pushed the skateboard and jumped on. The pair were now hurtling at 80mph down a near-vertical hill. As the ground began to level out, Sackboy noticed an obstacle fast approaching. He gripped the board tight and braced for impact. BANG! They hit the mound and went flying through the air. Upon picking himself off the ground, Sackboy turned to see Mr. Dumpty cracked-open and yolk everywhere. He looked around, realised no one was watching and whistled as he walked away slowly. He ran for a few miles more before coming to the coast. Here he met The Queen, who persuaded him to enter her Submarine. Lucky boy.
But unfortunately for Sackboy the ‘submarine’ was an actual submarine. He was locked in and the boat descended into the sea. Next thing he knew, he was being catapulted out of the water at an unsafe speed. He was sure submarines weren’t designed to fly. As you’d expect, the ship came crashing down to earth and broke. Sackboy crawled out of the burning wreckage. Considering he was trying to help, he wasn’t being treated very well. He looked around at his new surroundings and realised he was in The Savannah.
SACKBOY: I did not sign up for this shit!
Here he met the Curator Zola. Zola spouted on about something to do with a missing meerkat and crocodiles but Sackboy wasn’t really listening, by now he was becoming decisively less friendly.
SACKBOY: Look, I’m just trying to find the guy that keeps kidnapping people. I don’t give a crap about your stupid crocodiles and meerkats, you understand?
So he set off in a huff and was now faced with swinging from…well everything. He swung from giraffe heads to trees, rocks to buffalo. There was one particular occasion whereby he swung, missed his target and fell all the way back down to the floor again. He had to do this several times and it pissed him off no-end. He persevered though and along the way he discovered a crocodile being bullied by about 7 Meerkats. It looked to him like they were perfectly capable of helping themselves. He descended into a cave system inhabited by the meerkats and immediately the floor began to crumble and he had to race into the cave in order to save from dying. Why oh why is everything so bloody dangerous? If health and safety got hold of this place they would have a field day.
He travelled deeper into the caves only to come across a meerkat nightclub. WTF? There were lots of them, all sitting around smashed out of their faces. Sackboy even got hit on by one of them. Normally he would have been pleased with the attention but he pushed the meerkat away without even talking. In the corner, coking-up, was the missing meerkat. Sackboy ran over to him, grabbed him by the legs and dragged him all the way through the cave system. He threw him over ledges, bounced him off of walls and accidentally jumped on him…9 times. Finally, Sackboy threw the meerkat at its parents.
SACKBOY: Here’s your precious little darling. Smacked off of his tits and you have just wasted my time. I want compensation.
MEERKAT MUM: I’m so sorry…I can offer you this craft object.
SACKBOY: What is wrong with you? What the hell do I want with a craft object. Money, woman.
Meerkat Mum gave Sackboy the last of her change and he stormed off to carry on his original mission. Next stop: South America. I don’t know why, don’t ask me.
His plane touched down and he was immediately confronted with a scary-looking woman, at least he thought it was a woman, demanding that he help her find her husband.
FRIDA: Please help me find my husband, we are supposed to be getting married today.
SACKBOY: Look love, I’m sorry you have been jilted but you’ll have to get used to it.
She wailed with such intensity that Sackboy gave in and agreed to help just so that she would shut up. He now had to make his way across some very strange looking scenery, scenery that even Marilyn Manson would be wary of. Apparently people in South America don’t use stairs. Instead they favour skull-shaped trampolines covered in poisonous gasses. Sackboy cautiously advanced having been reincarnated about 50 times by now. Springy steps are the bane of his life. Frida appeared again.
FRIDA: Look, you seem to be taking your time in finding my Husband. Take my dog and go down to the basement.
SACKBOY: How about you find your own damned husband?
Frida looked at him with sad eyes and Sackboy caved. He took the dog and went down to the basement. The dog had a lamp on his collar and he was supposed to follow Sackboy, but there were times he would carry on going or turn around and go the other way. In the end, our woollen hero restorted to beating the dog with one of his button-eyes to teach him a lesson. The dog followed thereafter. Sure enough, there was the groom, steaming drunk and lost. Sackboy had had enough. He threw the Groom into a lift and sent it to the surface before proceeding to get back to the top himself. As he emerged, Frida saw that Sackboy didn’t have the groom with him so she went absolutely berserk! She steamed toward him with such force that she tore the house down with her. Sackboy could do nothing but to run as fast as he could from this demented, scorned woman, and oddly, she was emitting a poisonous red gas too. There’s a reason not to marry her. Sackboy managed to flee before she could go any further. She then noticed the love of her life sitting in the lift waiting for her.
FRIDA: Oops! My bad. Sorry about that little fella. I lose it sometimes.
Frida and her man eventually got married and Sackboy couldn’t take the lovey-dovey surroundings, so he escaped while he still could. He headed onwards to The Canyons.
The second he arrived he was greeted by a friendly Mexican man with a great big moustache. It was the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Hey Gringo!…
SACKBOY: NOPE! I’m not helping you. You are going to ask for help because you have lost someone or something, or you’re in danger. Well, screw you. I’m not doing it anymore. I’m only going to be jumping from ledge to ledge, swinging from ropes, dodging dangerous elements and all for what? People to say thanks! Well unless you have some hard cash waiting for me at the end of it, you can forget it.
SHERIFF: We have no money.
SACKBOY: In which case I’m off. You can tell Mags down in metropolis that I am not helping her and her fellow grease monkey colleagues either. If she thinks I’m going to run along steel girders suspended in mid-air then she can think again. Whilst you are at it, tell that no good son of a gun, Grand Master Sensai, that he can expect no help either. Him and his stupid flaming cat. Buy a box of Go-Cat biscuits and it will soon come crawling back. Then tell your Magic friend down in The Temples that I won’t be stopping by there either. I have no desire to climb across molten bricks that could or couldn’t disappear sending me to my death. I would be there for ages timing jumps and getting seriously hacked off with dying all the time. Nope, I’m off to Russia. It’s obviously where the bad guys are.
SHERIFF: Woah! Chillax dude. How do you know the culprit is in Russia?
SACKBOY: First off, if you say chillax one more time I’m going to get out my Pop-It and make one hell of a mess out of you. Secondly, I have seen enough films to know that Russia are always the bad guys. I should have seen it coming from the very start and saved myself all of this hassle and stress. Goodbye.
Rant over, Sackboy did as he promised and headed straight to Russia. Those that he had ignored were devastated. He used to be such a happy young man with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. Now he was this miserable, cranky, woollen mess that cared for no one. Shame.
But Sackboy was cheered up instantly upon his arrival in Russia. He found a husky sled! Everyone loves huskies. He jumped on and ‘mushed’ with all his might. The dogs kicked into action and he went sliding along from one place to the next. He was having so much fun. But, as with everything, it had to come to an end. The dogs performed their patented emergency stop procedure and Sackboy flew from the sled at great speed and smacked head first into a steel reinforced door. The Door opened. An army man stood there with a panicked look on his face and he began shooting at our woollen, if not slightly aggressive, hero. Well, Sackboy was not standing for this. He dodged the bullets in a manner that would make Neo look like a clumsy fool. He somersaulted over a barricade and detonated 1600 tons of TNT. BOOM! The Army men were reduced to melted piles of plastic. This made Sackboy feel great. He tied a bandana around his ample-sized head and began an onslaught. He destroyed hundreds of little robots and traversed electrified defences. There was no stopping him; he even ran down the old lady that was innocently lost. SACKBOY RAMPAGE! No one was safe. It was a massacre. When he finally calmed down he turned to look upon the carnage and let out a single tear. What had he become? Just then, an Army General appeared behind him.
GENERAL: Oh, please help. The Collector has gone insane. He has all of the LBP residents holed up in some evil contraptions. He needs to be destroyed.
SACBOY: Wait a minute, you are on my side? Why the hell were your boys trying to kill me?
GENERAL: Oh they were just messing around. Bygones! How are they back there anyway? I heard some commotion.
SACKBOY: Err…yeah…They’re fine. It’s a good job I’m just a harmless little sack.
GENERAL: Good good. Now go and do your stuff. Win one for the team.
SACKBOY: Oh sure, now we’re a team all of a sudden.
He felt his blood boil again but he controlled it and moved on. He moved deeper into the bunker. The traps were bigger and more dangerous. He was tentative this time but eventually managed to overcome the obstacles. He pressed forward, opened a large door and his jaw dropped.
SACKBOY: What the holy barnacle is that?
Looming over our boy of sack was a huge wheel with many levels, electrified floors and spongy sections. I make no exaggeration by saying it was huge; Bigger than New Zealand. He took a deep breath, entered the wheel and was promptly electrified. He woke up on the floor and tried again. He was electrified one more time. This chain of events repeated roughly 423 times, and yet he carried on. Hurrah! He made it down into the first level where he was electrified. Okay, Sackboy had the first level in the bag; he knew how to get passed that part. He eventually got the knack of level two, entered level 3 and was…you guessed it…electrified. This time Sackboy didn’t reawaken for about a week. In this time he had a strange dream about a ‘Human’ picking up a ‘PS3’, taking it outside, putting it under the wheels of a ‘car’ and driving over it. Several times.
But he finally regained the courage to attempt once more. He had told himself: ‘If I don’t achieve it on this go, then I quit’. But he stormed forward and made it to level three with ease. This part was new to him but he timed everything perfectly and exited the wheel. He turned and looked at the wheel.
SACKBOY: HAVE THAT YOU SPINNING PIECE OF ELECTRIFIED HORSE POO.
He was happy, but had no time to waste. Onward and upward! He surged into an open area containing various moving ‘cells’ that housed his fellow…Little Big Planetians? Planites?…’cells’ that housed his friends. This sight made him realise how much of a jerk he had been before. He was determined to right his wrongs. He jumped from cell to cell with athletic prowess and using his trusty craft bag, he fashioned an indestructible can opener and freed everyone. They fled the scene whilst heaping praise on the now-reformed Sackboy. He was loved by all. But now came the real challenge: The Collector.
He boarded a subway train.
ANNOUNCER: Thank you for choosing Collector Rail. Please be seated at all times and no smoking in the cabin.
Sackboy put out his Cuban Cigar. The train came to a stop and the doors opened. He exited and was immediately greeted by The Collector in a big armoured suit.
THE COLLECTOR: Ha ha ha. You will not stop me. Behold my evil creations.
A weird contraption landed in front of Sackboy. It was lifting its arms up and down in what would appear to be a poor impression of a monkey. Sackboy ran over, sprayed water on its joints and the machine ceased up.
THE COLLECTOR: Oh. Well that’s just the start of it.
Another machine, bigger and more elaborate appeared. But again Sackboy watched it for a minute, walked over and pressed the big deactivate button on its chassis.
THE COLLECTOR: Um…actually, no.
SACKBOY: Really? I had more trouble skipping over a tie than I did these ‘evil creations’.
THE COLLECTOR: Um…RUN AWAY.
The Collector attempted a bolt for it but Sackboy cornered him.
SACKBOY: What are you anyway?
THE COLLECTOR: I’m an evil genious.
SACKBOY: Really? You look like a disgruntled badger.
THE COLLECTOR: Please don’t hurt me. I have no friends; I didn’t want to be evil.
Just then, all of the freed LBP residents appeared.
THE KING: That’s okay, join in with the world. They’ll welcome you.
SACKBOY: Woah, woah, WOAH! You’re telling me that he kidnapped you, tried to kill me and yet you’re going to embrace him with open arms. THIS IS WHAT I DIED APPROXIMATELY 927 TIMES FOR? This is bull crap. I’m going home.