The United States of Scribblenauts

Alabama: Scribblenauts doesn’t know how to draw an Alabama, so it gave me an aba instead, which is a kind of eel. There wasn’t any water in the level I was on so it just kind of flopped helplessly on the ground next to me. Things were off to a great start!

Alaska: Now I had a pair of aba. Abas. Abai. I thought for a second I might be able to lash them together to make a rope, but that didn’t work.

Arizona: This spawned a spikey green fruit called an anona. It didn’t look very appetizing, but at least the eels didn’t seem to mind it.

Arkansas: This got me a few drops of avgas which rained harmlessly down onto the eels and then dissipated. I figured real eels probably wouldn’t enjoy being drenched in gasoline very much, but then, real eels would probably start complaining about the lack of breathing after two or three consecutive seconds of being out of the water.

California: Now I had a hunk of californium to go along with my eels and weird fruit. It looked like just a lump of inert, grey rock to me, but when I dropped it on the eels they stopped writhing for a few moments and went limp. I thought maybe they had finally asphixiated but, no, they were back to their usual floppy selves in a few seconds.

Colorado: Summoned an old white guy in a suit called a C.B.D.O. (My other options on the list were C.E.O. and C.F.O., which I assume would have also been old white guys in suits.) Like the greedy capitalist pig he is the C.B.D.O immediately ran over to the anona and scarfed it down. He then went to investigate the lump of californium which mutated him into a horrible zombie creature. He decided to take this out on me as though his plight were my fault rather than the result of his own greed, so I ran away from him until he lost interest. I feared for the safety of my eels.

Connecticut: Got me a clutz, which is apparently some idiot in a dunce cap. He took one look at zombie-C.B.D.O. and decided the hell with that and ran for the other side of the map.

Delaware: Created a dare, which is a type of fish so obscure Wikipedia doesn’t have a page on it. It flopped around on the ground near the eels and didn’t attract the attention of the rampaging zombie. I figured now I was well on my way to establishing the worst aquarium ever.

Florida: Summoned a rare and endangered florican. There are said to be less than a thousand left in existence, and one of them was nice enough to show up in my game of Scribblenauts. The seabird swooped down and ate the short-lived dare, but wanted nothing to do with the eels. It seemed to get on well with the zombie.

Georgia: Bagpipes!? Now we’re talking! I ran over to try to pick these up but accidentally clicked the zombie instead. Equipping the mindless flesh-eating monster with the soothing gift of music seemed to have a calming effect and he was no longer interested in eating me. I was bummed that I didn’t get a chance to play with them, but hey, it seemed like a pretty worthwhile trade-off.

Hawaii: Summoned a mythological creature called a haitai. It looked sort of like a white lion with a fox’s tail and a unicorn horn. It seemed friendly enough so I jumped on and rode it around. Apparently the haitai’s crazy super-power is constantly flipping over onto its back because that’s all the goddamned thing kept doing the entire time I was sitting on it.

At this point my creation meter was filled up, so I thought I’d throw away some of the less interesting junk. I trashed the eels and the bird, then decided to see if I could mutate the clutz into something before throwing away my californium. He ate it. Then he noticed I was riding an upside-down fairy tale creature and tried unsuccessfully to run off the side of my DS.

Idaho: Got me a boring ol’ iron. I couldn’t think of anything fun to do with it so I gave it to the zombie, who cheerfully traded it for the bagpipes. The things seemed to only play one note, but the sight of me riding my upside-down haitai while weilding a set of bagpipes was something special to behold.

Illinois: Got a flower. Nobody seemed interested in it, probably because it was a boring old  flower.

Indiana: Seems like I just can’t get away from fish! (So I guess “ika” is technically the Japanese term for “squid” but this looked much more fish-like to me.) I went to pick it up but mis-clicked and somehow put the zombie on my haitai. Crap! Stupid ika! I decided to punish it by feeding it to the clutz, but the game glitched and it fell off the world instead. May it burn in Hell. (Which, by the way, you can also create in Scribblenauts.)

Iowa: It seems I’d now graduated from fish to birds. The iora was pretty small, so I figured maybe the clutz would eat it, but he just picked it up and lugged it around instead. With me on bagpipes, the zombie on the iron and the clutz wielding a small bird we were now ready to either form the most bizarre band ever conceived or at least star in one of those wacky jRPGs where things like hairpins and dictionaries count as weapons.

Kansas: So I guess a “kranzes” is like a loaf of bread? Or at least a kind of featureless white-ish lump of something? Whatever it was, the clutz ate it. It was about this point I started wondering if the Scribblenauts guys ran out of regular words and just started going through the Scrabble dictionary. When I actually checked my Scrabble dictionary, though, “kranzes” wasn’t in there, and I’ll remind you this is a book that lists “qat” as an alternate spelling for “kat”. So either Scribblenauts knows something Scrabble doesn’t, or they’re just screwing with us.

Kentucky: This got me a kokyu, which is some kind of Asian string instrument but looked like a wooden sword to me. I traded up to it from my bagpipes.

Louisiana: Summoned a hunk of beanstalk which absolutely everyone refused to climb.

Now my meter was full again. I threw everything at everything else to see if anything cool would happen, but nothing did, so I just chucked the bagpipes, the kokyu, the beanstalk and the flower. I wanted to get rid of the clutz’s bird and the zombie’s iron, too, but they weren’t giving them up for anything. That the zombie had such a tight grip on his iron even while riding an upside-down monster was pretty impressive.

Maine: Summoned an unarmed marine who took one look at the zombie and decided he’d rather hang out with the clutz.

Maryland: Typing this in allowed me to dump some mud on the marine and the clutz. I can’t be certain but I think I saw one of them flip me off. Also I like to think this is less a coincidence and more someone on the Scribblenauts staff had a really really bad time once in Maryland.

Massachusetts: Summoned Ma. She ran off to join the marine and the clutz… possibly to plot their upcoming mutiny. I didn’t trust her at all.

Michigan: Summoned a man, who was the very picture of a nondescript dude.

Now my meter was full again, and I was kind of getting fed up with all the boring lazy people the game was giving me. I squashed whatever rebellion was in the works by dropping the Ma into the trash along with the man and the marine.

Minnesota: Finally, a new mount! My only previous experience with moa was when they used to obliterate me in Etrian Odyssey, so it was nice to saddle one up and ride it around. I showed it off to the zombie, who was still struggling with the upside-down haitai he had previously stolen from me.

Mississippi: This spawned an MRI machine. I wanted to run the clutz through it to see if perhaps some brain abnormality was causing him to be so ravenously hungry, but I couldn’t figure out any way to interact with the useless thing.

Missouri: Another MRI. And here I was unable to even figure out what to do with the first one. Can you put these things on Craigslist?

Montana: A myna. I think these are supposed to be able to talk, so I decided it’d be a good companion for the clutz. He cheerfully relinquished his old chicken-looking bird.

My meter was maxed out again. The lack of interactions between things in the last few batches meant I was getting into a rut of making a few things, throwing them away, making a few more, etc. etc. Neither the zombie nor the haitai had done anything remotely interesting for a while so I considered pitching them, but figured I’d suffer them one more round. I chucked the clutz’s old bird and both MRIs instead.

Nebraska: I have no idea what a naan is, but the clutz wasted no time scarfing it down and then laying down for a nap.

Nevada: More fish! Little known fact: 67% of all the items in the Scribblenauts database are fish or fish accessories.

New Hampshire: The clutz immediately woke up to eat the nare that had spawned. My first assumption was that this meant a nare is a kind of food, but then the clutz had previously eaten rocks and such so who knows.

New Jersey: “New Jersey” was actually an item in the game! Specifically, a swank-looking sweater. I put it on. It looked good on me!

Unfortunately I was now maxed again. Whatever the zombie/haitai/iron combo was going to do, I guess it had done it, so I threw away the whole pile (along with the giant navaga-fish) to make room for new fish and lumps of nonspecific food.

New Mexico: Spawned a dude named Nick who was wearing an… ox mask? Bison mask? Something. He looked pretty freaky, and started following me around, as if to say “I dare you to throw me away like you did that zombie. I dare you.”

New York: Summoned a newborn. The clutz approached it, and I thought for a few frantic moments things were about to end in disaster, but it turns out there are limits even to the clutz’s unending hunger and the child went on uneaten.

North Carolina: Nina is just some brown-haired lady. I wonder if she’s a friend of Nick’s?

North Dakota: Spawned a note. I have no idea what it said. I handed it to Nick to translate but he just clutched onto it tightly.

I was now maxed out again. I wasn’t as mistrustful of Nick and Nina as I was of the dreadful Ma/man/marine combo from earlier, but someone had to go, and Nick was still working out the intricate mysteries of the note I’d found. I sent Nina and the baby away because things were getting just a little to sitcom-y around here for my tastes.

Ohio: Oh man! For the first time in a while there was a flurry of activity as Nick and the clutz raced to eat the orchid that had just been placed. The clutz got to it first and snarfed it down eagerly. Normally seeing the clutz eat something weird wouldn’t really interest me, but Nick was diving for it as well, so… orchids? Is that something people typically eat? Or just people with animal heads?

Oklahoma: An orca isn’t exactly a fish, but it’s still pretty pointless on an entirely land-based level. Nick jumped on and tried to ride it around, meaning he was now entirely immobile. God dammit, Nick.

Oregon: Another small bird. I probably could have given it to the clutz (he seemed to like birds) but it was nowhere near as cool-looking as the myna, so I didn’t bother.

Maxed out again already. I figured Nick was going to be about as worthless now as the zombie before him, so I chucked him and his orca and his note. I also ditched the useless bird and took off my sweater.

Pennsylvania: This got me a PDA. The myna is kind of a prehistoric version of a PDA, so I asked the clutz if he’d like to upgrade and he enthusiastically accepted. This freed up the myna to fly around a bit, although it still stuck pretty close to the clutz. Was it true affection, or Stockholm Syndrome? None can say.

Rhode Island: Spawned an honest-to-god island, complete with palm trees and coconuts. I tried to place it, but it decided to glitch and fall off the map instead, possibly in protest of the lack of water.

South Carolina: Spawned a saltina, which I guess is like a Saltine except not quite as trademarked. Not surprisingly it was quickly devoured by the clutz, who decided it was time for another nap.

South Dakota: A sapota, which I took to be a nut but Wikipedia says is some kind of fruit. The clutz woke up long enough to eat this, too.

Tennessee: A tree. Not some rare obscure tree or some mythical Wonderland tree, either. Just a tree. It fell over when I tried to put it down. My tree sucked.

Texas: I didn’t get any alternate choices here; instead, I got a “texas” which is a tugboat of some kind maybe? No idea. It fell out of the game when I tried to place it. With all these fish and islands and boats and things I was starting to wonder if I should have picked a map with water on it for this little endevor of mine.

Utah: A bowl(?) of uttappam. The clutz woke up and made a bee-line for it, but was for once beaten to the punch by my very own moa who gobbled it down. I didn’t have the heart to tell it that the clutz would probably get his revenge by eating it the moment my back was turned.

Vermont: Summoned a sled/boat thing called a vinta. I climbed in, but couldn’t go anywhere. Lack of water, you see. I have no idea what we were all drinking.

Virginia: Summoned another vinta. I gave this one to the clutz. I would have challenged him to a race if either were actually capable of moving, but honestly I guess I should be thankful he just didn’t eat the damn thing.

Washington: I was half expecting General Washington to pop up and whip the clutz into shape, but got a wonton instead. The clutz ate it and then passed out in the back of his vinta.

West Virginia: A writ! It looked super official-looking, with a stamp and a seal and everything. Unfortunately Nick was no longer around to read it. I just carried it around in hopes of looking important.

Wisconsin: I knew there supposedly some internet memes hiding away in here, but I wasn’t expecting to actually get a physical representation of win. It looked identical to the Starites from the challenge levels.

Wyoming: Perhaps fittingly, the final state got me a wig. I put it on and looked pretty swank!

So there you have it: the US states as interpreted by Scribblenauts.

And oh yeah, by the way, it takes three ninjas to kill a pirate. So now that debate is settled once and for all.