Advertise for the Mysterious Island Arena

Description

Advertise for the Mysterious Island Arena is a sidequest in the Mysterious Island Quest. The concert promoters need your help spreading the word about the upcoming concerts. The Mysterious Island Arena can initially only be accessed while wearing Frat Warrior Fatigues. It becomes available while wearing the War Hippy Fatigues after 458 Frat Boys have been killed.

Tasks

• Once you have rock band flyers or jam band flyers, simply adventure anywhere in the kingdom (with the exception of The Battlefield) and slap flyers on monsters in combat.
• The quest is completed once the total attack value of monsters you have advertised on is at least 10,000. Adding +ML (via effects or items) helps. The stronger the monsters you distribute posters to, the fewer you'll need to hand out, but the stronger their retaliatory strikes will be.
• Monsters don't like having flyers stuck to them. They will always hit you on the round you flyered them, for about double the normal amount of damage unless you stun them either with a multi round or single round stun.
• You can check your progress by returning to the Arena and talking to the promoter while wearing the Frat Warrior Fatigues or War Hippy Fatigues; their message will indicate your progress.
• Flyers can be applied without a uniform on. You only need the uniform to obtain the flyers, and to finish the quest once you're done advertising.
• You cannot put a flyer on a monster multiple times in a single combat. If you try, subsequent times will not count towards your goal. You need to spread the flyers out among many monsters until you reach your goal.
• The 10,000 ML total is not shared between the two factions, reaching 100% as one faction will not allow you to turn in as the other!

Strategy

• Stunning a monster will prevent its retaliatory strike. A class-specific stunning skill (Club Foot for Seal Clubbers, Entangling Noodles for Pastamancers, etc.) can be helpful, as can a blocker like a Levitating Potato.
• Similarly, when ambidextrously funk-slung with a stunning or staggering item (e.g. a gob of wet hair, palm-frond net, etc.) the monster will not attack if the stunning item hits successfully.
• Deleveling a monster will not decrease the advertising effectiveness of the flyers, only their initial ML is used for this calculation.
• The most efficient way to finish this quest is to use flyers while performing other tasks you'd do regardless, such as the other island sidequests.
• The Guy Made Of Bees has enough attack to finish the quest with a single advertisement, but requires many turns spent in the Haunted Bathroom to set up.
• Other high level monsters may be available outside of Standard and/or Hardcore:
  • Cyrus the Virus, available to those with access to empty agua de vida bottles, has 99,999 attack but also requires set up.
  • Using a Genie wish for an old tower monster is another possibility.
  • Large BRICKO monsters (>1000 BRICKOs) retain their item if you lose the combat, but this still costs a turn. These monsters have attack values ranging from 400 to 1,000, so spending 10 turns flyering and losing to the same monster this way completes at least 40% of flyering, if not all of it.

Rewards

• If you distributed jam band flyers, you can...
  • "Party with the free spirits" to gain Moon'd for 20 adventures, which gives extra stats per fight.
  • "Investigate a curious cloud of smoke" to gain Dilated Pupils for 20 adventures, which boosts item drops by 20%
  • "Join a drum circle" to gain Optimist Primal for 20 adventures, which increases familiar weight by 5.
• If you distributed rock band flyers, you can...
  • "Try to get into the music" to gain Elvish for 20 adventures, which boosts all stats by +10%.
  • "Bust a move" to gain Winklered for 20 adventures, which boosts meat drops by +40%.
  • "Pick a fight" to gain White-boy Angst for 20 adventures, which boosts combat initiative by 50%.

• If you finish this sidequest as one faction and then turn around and defeat the same faction in the war, the Arena will become deserted and it will no longer be possible to gain any effects. The arena will also be deserted if you destroy both sides of the war.

Text

Initial visit:

You wander up to the amphitheater, mentally picturing yourself pouring your heart out in front of millions of screaming fans (but don't worry, we won't tell anyone). You see two guys scuffling in front of the bulletin board where upcoming acts can post their flyers. One has carefully disheveled hair, a polo shirt with a popped collar, and a general air of smug superiority. The other is dressed like your basic trust fund hippie -- really expensive clothes designed to look like you just dug them out of a trash can. Both men are frantically papering over each other's posters as fast as they can. As you watch, they finally drop their posters and start grappling and sissy-slapping each other.

"Uh, what's the problem here, guys?" you ask.

Without wearing war fatigues:

They both turn and say "hey, could you help me --" in unison, but then they both look disappointed. "Never mind," the hippy says. "I thought you might want to help promote an awesome, organic, cruelty-free jam band."

"Whatever," Mr. Popped-Collar replies. "I thought you might want to promote a sensitive, screaming, weepy band that makes chicks think you're all deep and emotional when you sing along. But you don't look like you're into that."

"Yeah," the hippy says. "You don't look like you're into twelve-minute guitar solos, either. I guess we'll have to wait until someone comes along who is more sure of who they are."

"You mean," you say, "someone who is so sure of who they are that they've completely adopted a group identity?"

"Something like that," they both say, and turn back to their poster war.

In War Hippy Fatigues

The hippy struggles to get out of a headlock, sees how you're dressed, and says "I'm trying to promote a holistic, cleansing, uplifting concert from The Goat Cheese Occurrence, Loathing's premiere jam band. They always put on a great show -- they play for at least four hours, and even longer if they decide to play more than one song!"

"Uh, that sounds great..." you say, while meaning the opposite.

"It would really help me out if you could take this stack of flyers and put 'em up all over the Kingdom. You could even just stick them right on the enemies you fight! I'm sure they won't mind. Help me out, and you'll be rewarded with the greatest gift the world can offer you."

"Phat meatz?" you ask.

"Great, consciousness-raising music."

"Oh."

You acquire an item: jam band flyers

First distribution message [may not come up in this order every time; I got third and fourth messages in reverse order]:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the hippy promoter rigging together two tin cans and a length of string. "Y'know," he says, "it's not that I don't appreciate your help, but I don't think you've been promoting as hard as you might could. I mean, with the current popularity of this band, these two cans and the string are going to be our P.A. system."

Second distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the hippy promoter dropping brown food coloring onto a sheet of little, colorful stickers. "Hey," he says, "you're doing a decent job promoting, but the band's still not popular enough for me to find financial backers for the show. As it is, we can't afford brown acid; hopefully nobody will notice these are just regular stickers that I stole from some little girl's backpack."

Third distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the hippy concert promoter talking with a couple of guys in three-piece suits and monocles. "Hey!" he says, when he sees you. "You're doing a great job promoting the concert. There's enough advanced buzz that these gentlemen have agreed to invest in the show! We'll get to have a real sound system and concessions now. Thanks a lot!" Then he pulls you closer and whispers "the thing is, though, if the attendance at the concert isn't as big as what I promised these guys, they're going to remove my spleen through my nostrils. So keep up the good work, okay?"

Fourth distribution message:

You walk up to the amphitheater and see the hippy promoter sitting on the steps with his head in his hands. "What's wrong?" you ask. "I thought I was doing a pretty good job of getting the word out."

"Oh yeah," he says. "You've done a great job so far, but I just did an informal survey at the hippy camp and everyone said the exact same thing..."

"What?"

"'Oh yeah... I remember that concert. It was totally awesome, man... what was the name of that band again?' I mean, half of the hippies think they already went to the concert, and the other half don't remember what date it is. I mean, in addition to what day it is TODAY, they don't remember what date the concert is. You're really going to have to redouble your efforts to pound this event into their greasy, filthy heads.

Fifth distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the hippy promoter busily barking orders at a swarm of roadies and lackeys. He sees you and walks over, holding up his hand for a hi-five.

"Man, you've done an awesome job!" he says. "Even people who have never heard of The Goat Cheese Occurence are calling them the 'only band that matters' and saying if you don't come to the show, you're a rectangular object! It used to be more people knew about goat cheese and cottage cheese than The Goat Cheese Occurence, but now they're more popular than cheeses! Keep up the good work and this show is going to be the event of the century!"

Sixth and final distribution message:

You wander over to the amphitheater and see that people are starting to arrive for the concert. There's a kind of silence around the place that's made up of a bunch of roadies who have been working very hard finally sitting still for a change. You see the hippy concert promoter kicking back on the steps up to the stage. He's inhaling some kind of smoke from a rolled-up tube of paper.

"Hey, man," he says laconically. "You did a, like, totally awesome job promoting the concert, man. If you have any flyers left, I'll take 'em; we can use them at the next show. Speaking of which, they're hitting the stage in just a couple of minutes -- you should come back in a few and check 'em out. It's a totally awesome show, man."

In Frat Warrior Fatigues

Trendy McPopped-Collar stops kicking the hippy in the ribs and glances over at you. When he sees how you're dressed, he says "hey, I'm trying to promote a really sensitive, but totally angsty, concert by Loathing's best screaming-crying band, Radioactive Child."

"I've never heard of them," you say.

"Surely you've heard their hit single, 'If You Want to Tell People the Truth, Make Them Laugh, Otherwise They'll Kill You (Royale With Cheese)?'"

"Uh, no... what's it about?"

"It's about when the lead singer's girlfriend left him for another guy. But to show they're clever and hip, screaming-crying bands use famous quotes and pop culture references for their song titles, and make sure that the title never has anything to do with the song."

"Wow, that certainly isn't the dumbest thing I've ever heard," you say, while meaning the opposite. I mean, everyone knows there's no future in pop culture references.

"Anyway, it would really help me out if you could take this stack of flyers and put 'em up all over the Kingdom. You could even just stick them right on the enemies you fight! I'm sure they won't mind. Help me out, and you'll be rewarded with the greatest gift the world can offer you."

"Massive piles of loot?"

"Really getting to know the soul of a sensitive, tortured young vocalist."

"Why is he so tortured?" you ask.

"Well, he's the lead singer of a rock band, but he was born with only half a tongue and no nostrils."

"Wow."

You acquire an item: rock band flyers

First distribution message:

You wander by the amphitheater to see how things are going and see a crazy hobo sitting behind a keyboard. He's singing some nonsense song about vampire birds and banging on three chords, to the accompaniment of the keyboard's "Demo 3" setting. You try not to look directly at him and look around for the concert promoter. You see him sitting nearby, looking at the hobo and holding his head in his hands. Uh, his *own* head, that is. Not the hobo's.

"I thought you were going to promote this show, bra," he says. "You see that guy over there? Unless we can get some financial backing for the show, he's the opening act. And to get financial backing, we need buzz, bra! Go out there and get the word out, or I'll frat-paddle you myself."

Second distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the frat-boy promoter dropping brown food coloring into cans of sparkling water. "Hey," he says, "you're doing a decent job promoting, but the band's still not popular enough for me to find financial backers for the show. As it is, we're going to have to sell this colored water instead of light beer. Not that anyone will notice, of course, but maybe you should promote just a little bit harder."

Third distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the frat-boy concert promoter talking with a couple of burly, cigar-smoking penguins in tuxedos (though it's hard to tell). "Hey!" he says, when he sees you. "You're doing a great job promoting the concert. There's enough advanced buzz that these gentlemen have agreed to invest in the show! We'll get to have a real opening act and concessions now. Thanks a lot!" Then he pulls you closer and whispers "the thing is, though, if the attendance at the concert isn't as big as what I promised these guys, they're going to take my kneecaps and make yarmulkes out of them. So keep up the good work, okay?"

Fourth distribution message:

You walk up to the amphitheater and see the frat boy promoter sitting on the steps with his head in his hands. "What's wrong?" you ask. "I thought I was doing a pretty good job of getting the word out."

"Oh yeah," he says. "You've done a great job; so great, in fact, that all the band's original fans are talking about boycotting the show because the band's so popular now that they've obviously sold out. That's really going to put a dent in ticket sales. The only way to salvage it is for you to keep promoting -- once the band is super, super popular, all those original fans will go to the show just to act superior to the people who just heard about the band. So keep doing what you're doing, okay?"

Fifth distribution message:

You check in at the amphitheater and see the frat-boy promoter busily barking orders at a swarm of roadies and lackeys. He sees you and walks over, holding up his fist for a fist-bump.

"Man, you've done an awesome job!" he says. "Even people who have never heard of Radioactive Child are calling them the 'only band that matters' and saying if you don't come to the show, you're a rectangular object! It used to be more people knew about, I dunno, goat cheese than Radioactive Child, but now they're more popular than cheeses! Keep up the good work and this show is going to be the event of the century!"

Sixth and final distribution message:

You wander over to the amphitheater and see that people are starting to arrive for the concert. There's a kind of silence around the place that's made up of a bunch of roadies who have been working very hard finally sitting still for a change. You see the popped-collar concert promoter kicking back on the stairs leading up to the stage, enjoying an ice-cold beer and a plate of wings.

"Hey, bra," he says, "you did excellent work promoting the show. If you have any flyers left, I'll take them; we can use them at the next show." He leans closer to you and says, in almost a whisper, "actually, the band's pretty horrible. But the kids seem to like it, so we give them what we want. Well, actually, we tell them what they want and then we give it to them. That's showbiz, y'know? Anyway, the show's going to start in a few minutes; you should come back then. Well, really, you shouldn't. Bring earplugs if you have 'em."

References

• The band which the hippie is trying to advertise for in the arena, The Goat Cheese Occurrence, is a reference to the jam band The String Cheese Incident.
• Radioactive Child is a thinly-disguised parody of the band Fall Out Boy.
• The ridiculously long name for the song by Radioactive Child mimics the similar naming style of Fall Out Boy.
• The statement that "everyone knows there's no future in pop culture references" is a lampshade on Kingdom of Loathing itself, which is obviously full of them.
• The Clash is the original "only band that matters"
• "If you don't come to the show, you're a rectangular object" is a play on the phrase "Be there, or be square". A similar gag was used in the Discworld novel Soul Music.
• The promoter's remark about the band being "more popular than cheeses" is a reference to a famous controversial remark by John Lennon, who said that with all the publicity they were getting, the Beatles were "bigger than Jesus". This variation of the gag was also used in Soul Music.
• The hobo playing a keyboard and singing nonsense songs is a reference to Wesley Willis, who was a schizophrenic recording artist. His songs followed the general pattern described in the game text, and he had a habit of headbutting his fans at concerts (which may be why the frat boy is holding his head).
• The line "As it is, we can't afford brown acid" references The Woodstock Festival, where brown acid was the most common (and cheapest) type of LSD available.