Last time we talked about the importance of a Sanwa-modified arcade stick, as well as two strategies for keeping other players’ hands off your prized possession (hint: they rhyme with gurder and gabotage). Of course, none of this matters if you can’t actually perform El Fuerte’s moveset (your new main will be explained later).
While many pros have advocated “practice” and “using a good arcade stick,” the first is a given, and the second is meaningless since any respectable arcade stick has been modified to be identical to all other Sanwa-modified sticks. No, what the professionals really rely on to pull off their ultra-clutch victories is secret fight stick grips that give them a competitive edge. Let’s review some of the highest-tier grips and discuss what makes them so powerful.
Sitting on the ground: By sitting on the ground, you’re telling your opponent that when it comes to victory, nothing is beneath you. Not even a chair. Whenever you get the chance, remind him or her him that your head is level to his crotch. Lick your lips sensuously for maximum effect.
Two or more chairs: If you can find any way to use up two chairs, do so. As mentioned last time, volumetric superiority is one of the most primal ways to establish dominance over another creature. Luckily, you have some options: you can either gain enough weight to justify using one chair for each cheek, or you can bring an arcade stick so monstrous that it warrants using a second, steel-reinforced chair to support it. Or do both, and elevate your mindgames to the unheard-of three chair tier (only previously seen at EVO 2006).
City on a hill: While most players place their controllers on their laps, on the ground, or on a chair, if you’re big enough to balance it on top of your gut, doing so could offer you a gigantic psychological advantage. Namely, there’s a large possibility your foe will become distracted or nauseated by your undulating layers of fat and lack of self respect ability, and be forced to leave play to vomit. Some people call that a cheap win. I call it strategy.
The chump stump: By far the strongest maneuver, simply demand to place your arcade stick directly on your opponent’s back during play. This position will distract, humiliate, and hopefully injure your rival. If anyone questions your right to perform this action, tell them the judges gave you permission. If the person questioning you is a judge, tell them your opponent gave you permission. If your opponent disagrees with you, murder him. Either way, you win.
I already know what you’re going to say, so I’ll just get out and explain this decision: El Fuerte has an infinite combo. And not just any infinite combo: an extremely annoying infinite combo.
Sure, in Marvel vs. Capcom 2 other games, Magneto some characters had inifinite or near-infinite combos. But did those characters’ combos include a dizzying combination of dash-canceling and (what appears to be) mosh-pit ballet? Did those characters constantly grunt and shout the names of various Tex-Mex specialties, emulating the environment of Chipotle during peak hours?
“But WiNG, El Fuerte’s infinite combo is really hard to do! And what about damage scaling? Also, what’s Chipotle?“
Those are all interesting, valid questions. But instead of answering them, let’s use absurd theorycrafting without settling anything in a satisfactory manner.
Sure, there’s damage scaling in Super Street Fighter 4. Basically, the more hits you add to a combo, the less damage successive hits deal. This is often referred to as “diminishing returns” in some circles and “that is bullshit; I had him… fuck this game” in others. But let me ask you one question: even if, after a dozen repetitions, each hit of your infinite deals only 1 damage, if you can complete this combo flawlessly at least 130 times in a row, you will win.
“But WiNG, that wasn’t a question.”
And there is absolutely no question that infinity times any nonzero quantity equals victory. If I offered you a penny for every day of your life ad infinitum, you’d take it, right? Of course you would. And while I can no longer make such offers due to legal restraints in the continental United States, you get the point.
If possible, count out loud while you repeatedly smack your opponent’s character in the face. For an additional psychological advantage, count in Spanish. For the ultimate in soul-crushing strategy, simply repeat “in-fin-ite-com-bo” every time you successfully land each hit. Your opponent will eventually come to appreciate the irony of the situation.**
Just because the bracket hasn’t begun yet doesn’t mean strategy isn’t involved. Here are some quick tips to getting off on the right foot:
Once the match actually begins, there are many unspoken rules about what is and isn’t allowed. However, never forget David Sirlin’s famous advice: “Fuck the rules.” You wouldn’t argue with David Sirlin, would you?
Once you’ve actually won the round, etiquette is no longer required, since you have clearly established your physical and mental superiority over your opponent. At this point, everything is fair game.
First, immediately unplug your arcade stick from the Xbox 360 and walk away. This demonstrates (accurately) that you are more concerned with your next bracket than with assigning any kind of dignity to the garbage you have just massacred.
If your opponent tries to give you a handshake: Oblige him. However, while you keep up the appearances of a begrudging, obligatory social gesture, use your sharpest fingernail to pierce his skin in an attempt to tear a vital ligament, crippling him for life.
If your opponent tries to talk to you: It is now socially acceptable to murder him, as evidenced by International Sportsmanship Law, Clause 2.43b: “Whatever your t-shirt says, it is a legally binding contract with whoever reads it.”
Next, inform the judges that you are the victor of the match. If possible, try to do so without saying your opponent’s name, unless you are required to do so as part of the body-identification process.
Finally, change into your next t-shirt and ask the nearest female to read it to you.
In the event that you somehow fail to find an opening and connect El Fuerte’s infinite combo flawlessly in every match, it probably means you didn’t practice your p-links enough. But hey– the past is the past, right? Why don’t we focus on something more productive, like ruining the tournament for the “winners”?
Here are some final tips for making sure that even in the unlikely event you lose, so does everybody else.
**I actually don’t know what the word irony means.