Planets devastated
Mankind’s on its knees
A savior comes from out the skies
In answer to their pleas
Through boiling clouds of thunder
Blasting bolts of steel
Evils going under deadly wheels
He is the painkiller
This is the painkiller
Dead Space, Gears of War 2, Resident Evil 5, Bioshock. Epic games in plot, premise or production value, but no matter how bombastic the adventure feels, the final boss for these games are whimpies.
Bioshock’s is a Street FIghter 3 character. RE5’s is an exercise in “hold on a sec while I slowly get behind you, shirtless Wesker.” The boss you fight in that massive zero gravity chamber should have been Dead Space’s final boss. And Gears didn’t have one. It had a helicopter ride.
The last final boss I beat that had me struggling for the win? Judas Priest’s Painkiller.
“Yeah…wait, what?”
“Rock Band 2.”
“Oh yeah…wait, what?”
Painkiller is so a final boss. It’s the last song in the last gig in the largest venue, sponsored by Rolling Stone. And after you rock the song the credits roll. Sure you can go to Shanghai and still have venues to unlock; just look at them as side quests on the world map.
The song is difficult. The song is long. And while I don’t like the song, I think it’s outrageous and glam enough to be the big bad. Up to this point you’ve been playing a nice slice of the spectrum; some alternative, some pop; a little bit of grunge and a whole lot of rock. This is the journey you have to take, and by the time you reach Shanghai you have the battle scars and the skills needed to be a Rock Immortal.
“Uselesses, let’s show them who is going to be the painkiller.”
“But we don’t want to be the Painkiller. We want to be Useless.”
“I mean we’re going to be the ones who kill the Painkiller.”
“But Painkiller is supposed to be mankind’s metal savior.”
“Shut yer face and start strumming.”
