Simply put. Remove boars.
All of them, every single last damnable boar, remove them.
Especially Pugots.
And to further appease me, in every spot where a boar was found, place some bloodstained earth and bones, to show me they died a grizzly death without mercy.
And add NPCs to distribute bacon, sausage and ham related food items. Make it an event, festival of the pig or something, in which we celebrate our liberation from these tyrannical snout-nosed abominations of hell.
PLEASE KILL ALL THE PIGS! - 豚のホロコーストを行ってください。
These are the worst thing of all the worst things ever in all of the video games... ever... EVER.
They're worse than Vaan (FFXII), Quina (FFIX) and Starcade (FFXI) combined. Ever.
They make me want to set my skin on fire, so I can feel something other than the anguish and despair these pork-bellied douche bags wreak on humanity. And when I finally did set myself on fire, it didn't work. I have become numb to all misery, except that perpetuated by these raging alcoholic child molester pigs that troll the world by chilling in gauntlets or raptors and hanging with their drake buddies.
Also, seared human flesh smells eerily similar to bacon. More fuel to my rage.
So I'm sitting here, waiting for this Pugot to face the right direction so I can start another blind blitz past it, the raptors and the other two Pugots around the bend, hoping they're all facing the right direction... and if they are, hopefully the Drake and Salamander across the bridge are off to the side enough I can keep racing by... and hopefully there are no more Pugots beyond that bridge... but I'm sure there are... There are always more Pugots... just like there are always more Pugots, just like there are always more parasitic micro-organisms that'll devour our brains from the inside out or makes us bleed uncontrollably from our rectums as we feel life slip away from our bodies.
One last thing I hate about Pugots... how their heads twitch from side to side. It's like they're telling me "no, you shall not pass". It just makes me wish my character had some sort of blunt, metal object, like a cudgel, or a solid steel table leg, or a railroad hammer. The fantasy plays out that each and every truffle hog has been immobilzed by having their tendons slice with a rusty fishing knife. The truffle hog looks up at me, with pleading eyes, but I respond by shaking my head in the same manner in which they torment me. Then, with one swift and decisive motion, I lower my crude instrument down upon their skulls, the result of which is a deafening crack, and the contents spill out onto the Twelveswood Floor. Repeat ad nauseum.
I'm not really this disturbed. This is just what I have been reduced to because of Pugots. And I'm sure I'm not the only one.
So again, Yoshi-P, Dev. Team... I appeal to you. Please, please remove these menaces, and bring balance back to our collective sanity.


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