Fueled by a wave of Christmas high, and inspired by X-E Matt's list of the best Yetis (that man...I swear if I were a woman) I realized it's as good a time as any to take a look at an old friend: BLIZZARD!
Primal Rage may not have been the best game, but you can't argue with the concept: Giant Gorillas that spit ice fighting fire breathing dinosaurs? HELL YES! And all of the animation was done the good ol' fashioned way: vinyl stop-motion puppets! Now imagine five year old me stumbling across this treasure trove of dinosaurs and monsters. Oh, I flipped my shit. HARD. I had to have a toy Blizzard, and thank god for Playmates. Not only were there toys, they were good toys, based directly off the puppets used in the game. If I never forget one event in my measly, tiny, dirty little life, it will be the day I woke up with a pointy box in a wal-mart sack poking me under the covers. Being an astute lad, I assumed it was a beer box, until I ripped away the sack and gazed into the eyes of that glorious blue visage. Blizzard instantly became the king of all toys, and remained uncontested until the Pokemon uprising of 2001.
All right, the Primal Rage nerds (all 4 of them) are clenching so hard right now, and I admit it: This isn't how Blizzard came factory stock. This is what he used to look like, and as you can see he's had a little work done. See, we had many glorious campaigns of conquest during my youth, chock full of perilous adventure. Perhaps a few too many said adventures involved bath tubs and swimming pools, however, as up until a year ago he looked a bit worse for wear. His majestic white fur was tarnished pee-stain yellow, and his sweeping mane was less Fabio and more Don King on a sweaty summer day. Even at his worst I stood by his side, and when the time came and my skills were sufficient, I retored my old friend to his former glory. LONG LIVE THE KING!
Whenever Old Saint Nick starts making his jolly rounds, my mind always drifts to Lord Blizzard. Maybe it's his icy theme, or the fact that Yetis and Christmas are like Pineapples and peanut butter to me (blame the bumble), but I think it's something else. He may not have been a Christmas present, but I think Blizzard is the best gift I've ever been given. That morning when I woke up, I had no idea that six inches of plastic gorilla were about to be in my hands, and it wasn't even a holiday. I can't even remember asking for him, he was just there, and the Universe was as it should be.
I've tracked down a few of his friends in recent years, and I will finish this line if it's the last thing I do. Now Mr. Peter Jackson, you know what you must do. Finish the Hobbit, then it's time to RAGE OVER NEW URTH!!!