Double Fine is moving offices! We are giving up the rats, giving up the smell of bum pee. We are moving on to the land of eternally working toilets! Hooo-ray.
But you know, the one thing this old warehouse was always fun for was throwing killer parties. This is our last chance, so we’re inviting everyone! Come on down Friday night to 215 Clara Street in fabulous San Francisco. We’re near 5th street, between Folsom and Harrison. Kind of close to the All Star Donuts. Around the corner from the Olympic Deli’s burned-up awning. Near where that junkie is passed out, just past that pile of used syringes. That’s the place! Party!
8:00pm until whenever.
I’m already kinda drunk. Will you slow dance with me? Come on, this is our song.
Okay, whoops. I was wrong. Lorne Lanning is on TV. I often get the two of us confused because we like, practically, twins. You can see the Halo guys, too. Oh, and the Crimson Skies team. My face does flash on the screen for a second—just long enough for me to say that games invented surrealism. (God, when will I remember the golden rule of interviews: Shut up and don’t say a word!) Psychonauts does appear for a moment, and right when it’s on screen, Ed Fries says something that I won’t quote because it’s not the words that matter, but the meaning of the words. And if you listen to what he says the meaning is obvious: Ed thinks that Double Fine Productions is THEE GREATEST GAME COMPANY EVER OF ALL TIME EVER. And after that part, he adds that he loves us, and has a crush on many of us, and wishes we all hung out more, and that if we’re not doing anything this weekend, he’d like to see the Hulk with all of us, and then maybe play Pictionary after and have root beer floats. What makes this last part so effective is that he says it entirely WITH HIS EYES.
Hey, look! It’s…
If you catch the scene where Doctor Loboto takes out Dogen Boole’s pesky brain—the actor who plays Dr. Loboto is Nick Jameson, who also did the voices of Fred, Red, and Zed Edison in Day of the Tentacle, he played Darrel and Mavis (the projectionist) in Full Throttle, and in Sam and Max? d00d, he’s Max. And that’s…
We’re on TV! Right now!
Or so I hear.
They’re showing it again at 11:00.
If I remember correctly, I was a moron in the interview.
And there will be PLENTY of opportunity to see that in the future. Trust me.
Here’s some news: The rats have won. We’re moving. But our new place is better, and we gave a fake forwarding address to the rats, so we won’t be seeing them any more!
At least that’s what I think it says in this article. I’m pretty good at Norway talk, and from what I can tell, the people of Norway, so touched by the favorable and constant coverage they receive from the Double Fine Action News, have made me, and my associate producer Camilla, the new King and Queen of Norway. I would like to say that this comes as a total shock to me, but… come on you guys! I’m an adorably humble man, but didn’t we all see this coming?
I’ll probably be moving to that tiny island nation as soon as they send a boat for me. Once there, I shall take my rightful throne, hopefully without needless bloodshed. Please forward all my mail to my new address:
KING OF NORWAY
Norway City, Norway 94107
We can’t figure out why, but we think the change is permanent.
Okay, check out the Portal To Satisfaction™ to see all the hot, new jobs available at Double Fine Productions. There are so many there, you should apply to at least two or three of them. And have I mentioned this: You should tell ALL your friends? Spread the word. Why would you deny your friends a great job? Is it spite? Just let them live, will you? Let them be happy, for God’s sake! How long have you stood in the way of them getting what they want out of life? If it matters so much to you that your friends be miserable, then trust me—send them my way. I will make them miserable in a way you never could.
We have filled our office manager position! Yay for Kelli, the new office manager! If you wanted to be our office manager, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait until we open our Fiji offices. Or maybe you could get the visual effects programmer job, and work your way over to the office manager position in a couple of years by sabotaging Kelli’s efforts, while constantly flattering the vain CEO.
That’s right—we still have the Visual Effects position open. Tell your friends! And as soon as I get my act together, I’m going to post some more jobs. These are paid positions, and we will be paying you with MONEY: Environment Artist/Designer!
Game Play Programmer!
Yeah, so get ready for that.
Simon’s deli next door caught fire AGAIN today. Experts agree this is totally insane and weird because it was almost exactly a year ago that it caught fire in exactly the same way. One of the tenants of the flop house above the deli chucked out a lit cigarette, which alighted upon poor Simon’s awning and smoldered, eventually erupting into a massive, smelly inferno. The thing that made this year’s fire especially exciting is that some of us were inside the deli at the time. I was enjoying a tuna melt with some of our excellent programmers, when one of them started screaming like a girl (I think it was Anna), “Fire! The building’s on fire! We’re all going to die! Ahhhh!”
The other programmer eating with us, let’s call him… Matt Franklin, calmly rose from the table, twisted one of his beard hairs, found a fire extinguisher and ran outside. I jealously found my own extinguisher and followed him, determined not to be outdone. Matt’s extinguisher was a dud however (heh heh, what a loser!), so he ran back to our office to retrieve the official double fine fire extinguisher. Which we cleverly keep in the bathroom. The cleverness of this plan was then revealed when Matt realized that someone was in the bathroom, and the door was locked. So we all burned to death the end.
Or did we?
Luckily, being the coolest, I had my extinguisher ready to go, and so I took aim and—click—it was a dud too. And covered in dusty diner grease.
“Noooooooo!” I yelled to the sky, in slow motion.
The fire raged on. People were throwing themselves out of upper-story windows, maybe. We ran back into the deli to grab something to throw on the fire. Since the building was burning, there were no rules. Total pandemonium. I probably could have grabbed all the deviled eggs if I wanted to. I probably could have even shoved them all in my mouth at once, and walked around with my mouth open, scaring people with my moaning egg-maw. But no. I continued to fight the fire in my quiet, humble way.
I grabbed the hot water carafe off the coffee maker, ran back outside and threw it’s contents on the fire. It was pretty silly, because a coffee pitcher, it turns out, is not really the best way to deliver moisture to a fire. The angle of the spout and the wind—I don’t know what happened—but I totally missed the burning part. I just got this other, non-burning section of the awning all wet. There was a crowd gathered by this point, and they saw me hurl lukewarm tea water at an uninvolved patch of awning next to the fire, and I was totally embarrassed. This must be how junior firefighters feel. It was too humiliating. I had to leave. Screw this fire I said, and left. I have no idea how it turned out. Simon could be dead for all I know.
If he’s not, though, you should really go to the Olympic Deli some time when they are not on fire and try one of his tuna melts.
They are delicious.
All in all, the fire was generally agreed to be the best one yet. We all had a great time, and we’re looking forward to next year’s fire. I wonder though… if this could be related to another recent flammehav we had recently… hmmm…
I am at this party in Seattle (Which seems strange, I know, because I live in San Francisco, but the thing you have forgotten is that I am the Living and Immortal Spirit of Good Times—I simultaneously exist at all parties in all dimensions simultaneously. Try it! Throw a party and I will show up and talk loud and, with a 60% certainty, spill some beverage in the kitchen and make the floor all wet and then spend at least a half hour apologizing and mopping up) and guess who’s there but Tycho from Penny Arcade. At first I don’t see him because I was not out looking for thieving web comic personalities, but then I see him and I’m all hey, and he’s all, what? And I’m all, dude! And he’s all, eh? And I’m all where’s my %#$@&! yo-yo punk! And he’s all, damn. Then I’m like, bro. And he’s all, yeah.
So it’s cool. We’re cool. Somehow we managed to overcome our differences (like the fact that I’m human and he’s a cartoon) and become best friends. You should have seen the hugging. Some people at the party cried. It was so beautiful. Then I totally perpetrated like I got a phone call and had to go. Man that guy is such a sucka!
I guess that’s why I love him.
While I remain true to my promise to avoid posting any useful Psychonauts-related information on this page, the folks at IGN have taken no such pledge. Behold their dogged research on our mysterious project, and they’re disturbing fixation with crotch-related language.
Crotch, crotch, crotch! Psychonauts! Crotch!
(Someday you can be president, and then you can say crotch as much as you want.) Crotch.