Evil Geeks Art Gallery – Classic Rockman
I apologize for my absence from these hallowed halls of the Evil Geeks Art Gallery, I’ve been trotting the globe scouring for pieces from antiquity. Alas, no period in man’s history has produced works as astounding as these following examples, and I have as a result returned empty handed. I give you, the Art Gallery so far (in hyperlink form).
I know what you’re thinking; “That about does it for art, civilization, you’ve gone and peaked”. Well think again, my friends. My appetite for beauty is positively insatiable and I have once more opened my billfold to commission a work of finest art from two modern masters. Truly, this generation has offered no purer talents than Biff Tannen and Arthur Harkness!
And SURELY their skills have never been put to a greater test than the awkward beauty of the Mega Man 2 cover art. One of the most playable videogames released for the NES (And that, sir, is saying something!), Mega Man 2 was an improvement in every way upon its predecessor. More bosses, longer gameplay, still challenging and yet not impossible. This game long stood as my favorite, and so this project was near and dear to my heart of hearts. And it was, indeed the first addition! Let me tell you the tale.
When the divine inspiration for this addition to the galleries struck me, I was enjoying a glass of wine at my palatial villa in Montenegro, but I immediately chartered a seaplane to take me back to the States. Once on American soil, I hired a driver to bring me to the Bohemian ghetto that these artists called home. I gave a sixpense to a street urchin in exchange for the address of (and safe passage to) the shared studio and abode of these blessed but struggling craftsmen and he led me through a maze of alleyways and up a precarious fire escape to the gentlemen’s hotel in which they currently reside. I knocked on the door and, having dealt with their like before, immediately declared that I was neither a policeman nor a bill-collector (If one IS a constable, one must tell them so or else it’s entrapment, old boy). I noticed a trembling shadow through the peephole and then heard the unfastening of a dozen locks. The door creaked inward and I saw, in the flesh, the 21st century’s premiere interpreters in the medium of “Pop Culture Art Knockoffs”. I sent the orphan boy (who had graciously waited in the hall to be sure that I was not attacked in this frightening tenement building) to fetch fresh bread, hot coffee, and all the methadone his tiny arms could carry, If I ever intended to own a wonderfully recreated cover to Mega Man 2, I would first need to free these two men from the grasp of the Great White Dragon!
The next few weeks were rather touch and go. But when the dust settled and I felt comfortable in undoing the handcuffs which bound them to the radiators, I introduced them to another drug; Pen and paper! They immediately relapsed into the deepest depths of the art world and in a few days time, a single tear did find its way out of my eye and down my cheek as I gazed upon Biff’s re-imagining of that wondrous cartridge art. A man possessed, he laboriously reconstructed the work, his hands seemingly moving of their own accord to capture the frenzied action of this robot shootout.
Arthur, however, was a bit more resilient. He didn’t wish to be a slave to the graphic arts any longer, and he resisted. Once he was Biff’s illustration, though, things changed. To paraphrase REO Speedwagon, he could no longer fight that feeling and forthwith set pencil to notepad and sketched out this understated masterwork:
The simplicity is serene, Harkness utilizes an almost Native American level of economy in his art – There is no part of this “buffalo” going to waste!
And so, I had two fantastic reproductions of an important work of art. And yet I still felt empty. Surely, I could set them at opposite ends of my grand chalet in the Alps so that I might never be too far from their individual splendor. Still, if only there were some way I might enjoy an amalgam of their beauty and grace in a single frame!
I dreamt that night of a machine. A machine that could boil each drawing down to an essence, mix them together, and color it about half as well as the original work was done. And, perhaps because I had taken a tongue-full of Bath Salts with my evening glass of brandy, I decided the machine should be called “The Collabotron”. I sprang from my slumber, grabbed my bedside candle, and made my way to the carriage house. I sent a stable boy into town to retrieve the three finest scientists money could buy. Luckily, that town was Geneva and the nearby CERN was in the midst of constructing some type of “Large Hard-on Collider”, if memory serves. Since I was paying better, the scientists immediately set out to build my machine. I also requested that they build a handgun capable of entirely disintegratingits targets. The very moment they finished the Collabotron, I placed the two originals in the feeder tray and the status light went green. Mere moments later, a warm piece of glossy paper emerged, bearing the faint smells of ink and hot plastic. I turned it over to reveal perhaps the most glorious work of art ever beheld by human eyes.
Then I shot the scientists with the disintegration ray. Can’t have them making another one of these, now can I?
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