It was resignedly night when he rode down and out from the mountains into the foothills of Ambarino. The sunset had guided him down the dusty shimmer of the last path down and now he was relying on the lamp trussed around the light barding of his horse, praying to the disinterested gods of this land to guide his way toward the place where the sky above wasn’t a complete inky black...
I’m not really great at writing westerns. I’ve seen the best – it ain’t me.
However, Red Dead Online gets you thinking somethings and sometimes. And here I am to catalogue them in the tome that is all holy, this stupid blog whatever it’s called EpicuzisuckiT entry 2021:
To tell the truth, I never played the Story Mode of Red Dead Redemption 2. I sort of digested it from a distance. I saw the South Park episode, have friends who have played it, one in particular who explained that he would “do the hunting and while he was at work, his wife would do all the cooking in the game.” They had a good trade-off in that family.
I did, however play the every sun-loving fuck out of RDR 1 — there are entries somewhere on this cursed tome – but maybe that is back in EpicuzuplayiT 1: When I was a young man. We all talk shit when we’re young, and man, I’ve talked a LOT of shit about a LOT of games up here. Sometimes I even drank liquor drinks and wrote in this blog, why there may even be a Kingdom Hearts entry back there when I’m even tipsy!
Things are different this time around, in good old / bad new 2021. We should all have the chance to let the past be the past and yeah I’ve been a jerk/amateur but I want one thing to be perfectly clear about one thing that hasn’t changed around here: These games are fucking EPiC cuz I Play Em, and precisely because I do, that’s my personal guarantee.
So let the Epic of Tezeta Plaguemaw nee “Teeth like the Sun” commence or comanche or whatever the fuck.
Tezeta Plaguemaw was born to a frontier man by a frontier woman. This was common on the frontier in the year of our Lord, 1888. Or ’89. Or whatever. One parent was native, the other was not. For all we knew about his past, he could have been descended from the god-like race of the shinobi from the Far East where shadows die twice.
Here on the frontier, they still may yet die again and again, too.
Because it’s a video game.
And Sekiro was too fucking hard, so I’ve come back to cuddle in the comforts of RDO where Tezeta has a successful trading business, moonshine operation, does some bounty hunting, and all kinds of mischief in between. He’s died about 100 times, I’d say – falling, getting shot, blowing up, jumping off cliffs with his horse, Darknut.
Well, at least back when it was Darknut.
Darknut was replaced by Light (don’t ask her full name), best horse money can buy – white as the moon and fast as its shine. Now Tez pilots an old blue nag called Bluedozer who he’s trying to get into shape, and she’s a beast to behold. An honest filly, now, she earns her weight in hay every day.
When I abandoned the game last time, I had just paid like $800 in game dollars for Light, but Blue had been sitting in the stable the whole time. She was essentially my spare tire in case Darknut died, but that happened pretty rarely, or at least un-frequently. Light was an Arabian Stallion, (and still is). Fast as fuck but I feel like her hearing wasn’t very good because I could be calling her for minutes from like not that far away and the bitch ass nag wouldn’t never come.
These days Horsie Death (as the old West doctors call it) has been somewhat frequent as of late, that Bluedozer will die and Light will come running in like an ambulance and it’s like, “What happened to Blue?” And she’ll say, “I don’t know,” and she say, “I thought she was with you,” and I say, “I fast traveled, why didn’t she? and Light will say HORSES CAN’T TALK and also, what the fuck, be careful around cliffs. These horses are so fucking gorgeous, it’s a damn shame when they Axl Rose off a mesa or something and break their horsey necks. I’ll let the pictures speak now:
—
“I’d rather pet a pig,” said Cripps, the bearded old hobo who ran Tezeta’s Trade Post.
“Don’t listen to him, Chikuwa,” said Tezeta to his dog. “He means his mother, but he is out of nickels.”
Chikuwa was a good boy and the old 19th Century trogolodyte could fuck right off.
“Har de har, Teeth Like a Pet Cemetary,” he said, whittling a dead squirrel carcass Tezeta had turned in last time along with about a dozen other dead animals and their parts. “You gonna sell this fucking wagon full of dead bullshit I turned into art?”
The wagon stunk and left a trail of animal blood and viscera in its wheel ruts. Today it was loaded with various pieces Cripps had crafted, and were all tied down to the bed with what looked like deer intestines.
“This is art?” Tez asked, picking one of the supplies off the cart.
“It’s a fuckin canteen lined with the petrified stomach of an alligator, wrapped in its own child’s skin.” Cripps could be grim in description, but it did not dispel him of his conviction about the quality of his work.
Tez refused to remember the alligator family he had slaughtered so that this water vessel could come into existence. He’d slaughtered hundreds of such creatures, but to remember each and every one, their agony, their lives extinguished, their corpses littered about the swamp drizzling blood downstream – it could drive a man mad! Good thing it’s just a video game. Tezeta would pray for for their spirits over dinner and smokes. He decided to cook a stew. Or maybe he’d just stop by the still for a vat of moonshine….
——
See? It’s all one long narrative, but a lot of it is just a matter of course. I go through horses, we go kill things – it’s the circle of life, baby, and Tezeta is a good life. It is an exclusively online game, too, so the encounters are unpredictable, at least they can be up to a certain point, but RDO always has new surprises. You could run into these guys for instance (show picture of Mario and Luigi in RDO – you know the one, it’s sick.
EpicuziplayiT 
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