"They may be called the Palace Guard, the City Guard, or the Patrol. Whatever the name, their purpose in any work of heroic fantasy is identical: it is, round about Chapter Three (or ten minutes into the film) to rush into the room, attack the hero one at a time, and be slaughtered. No one ever asks them if they wanted to."
Guard 1: Did you hear something?
Guard 2: Nope.
Guard 1: But I—
Guard 2: Here's a tip, newbie: Guards that run towards the blood-curdling scream don't last long. We heard nothing.
Guard 2: Nope.
Guard 1: But I—
Guard 2: Here's a tip, newbie: Guards that run towards the blood-curdling scream don't last long. We heard nothing.
Disguised Elan: Chief need you. Go. I guard cave now.
Ogre Guard: Okay. I do as you say, strange ogre I have never seen before. I go.
Ogre Guard: Okay. I do as you say, strange ogre I have never seen before. I go.
"An intelligent guard! Didn't see that one coming."
— Preed, Titan A.E.
Black Mage: Ah, the perfect disguise.
Cultist 1: Hey, the new guy killed Suh'zanne and now he's wearing his face.
Cultist 2: Like we wouldn't recognize it?
Cultist 3: Tsk. What a poorly conceived disguise!
Cultist 1: Hey, the new guy killed Suh'zanne and now he's wearing his face.
Cultist 2: Like we wouldn't recognize it?
Cultist 3: Tsk. What a poorly conceived disguise!
Chakotay: "Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?"
Vorik: "It was necessary to disable the communications, transports, and shuttles."
— Star Trek: Voyager (showing its usual excellent security)
"Hmph, just a box."
— Guard, Metal Gear Solid
"No, I don't know how late I'll be. I said I don't know! I was told to walk in this pattern over and over, until something interesting happens!"
— Guard, Saints Row IV (mission "The Curious Case of Mr. X")
"I can't believe they're attacking us! They must be really love their job!"
— Kou Leifoh, The Bouncer
"You gotta love an elite killing force you can fool by putting on a hat."
— Marn Hierogryph, on the Mandalorians, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
"In far too many fantasy stories only the main characters are people. Palace guards, in particular, come off badly; nobody seems to think twice about slitting the throats of a few guardsmen... Besides, they're so utterly ineffectual. Really, has any clever thief or sneaky barbarian ever been stopped by palace guards? Why do all these palace-owners bother with them? If I were hiring guards, I would want them to have at least some instinct for self-preservation, and to know how to do something other than stand there looking bored until someone sneaks up from behind and cuts their throats, or jumps down from an overhanging ledge, or gets them to look the wrong way with the distinctive sound of a pebble being thrown."
— Lawrence Watt-Evans, The Laws of Fantasy
"Four messages to warn me about the four Dalton Brothers' evasion?! Those wardens are starting to become just as stupid as their prisonners!"
"You got past the guards because you had... a pie? *sigh* We need a more rigorous hiring process."
— Laura, Fantasy Life
...to say nothing of the guards' color codes, which include Red Standby Alert (apparently meaning stand around and do nothing), Red Mobilisation (wander around outside the house), and Blue Mobilisation (allow the President and his daughter to escape in a vintage car accompanied by two terrorists).
— Review of Blake's 7 episode "Bounty"
"He's in the middle of the room. The middle. In plain view. Do you guys need glasses?!?"
— The Joker, Batman: Arkham Asylum
That guy's eating his fucking lunch, what is he doing? Mate, there's like, there's shit going down! Guys, come on! You're guards! You should be guarding this fucking place! There was an explosion, guys! Did you not hear that? Two men got shot and then two more exploded and you're just like standing around as if that's normal noise to hear in this fucking attic. "There's ghosts, just ignore the ghosts, guys. The ghosts are spooky, I don't like them. So don't go over there, just, just in case, y'know."
— bigMooney06 mocking the guards, Christmas Kill Everyone Challenge!
Stealth games like Metal Gear Solid have a difficult relationship with reality. While the idea of quietly sneaking up behind your enemies and dispatching them sounds great, it would be exceedingly hard to pull off more than, say, one time before everyone in the secret military installation goes on high alert and combs the area with search lights and helicopters. If you were a soldier on patrol and one of your buddies mysteriously turned up with a broken neck, you would never let your guard down ever again, much less 30 seconds after discovering his dead body.
Well done, Hilred! An antiquated capsule, for which you get adequate early warning, transducts on the very steps of the Capitol. You are warned that the occupant is a known criminal, whereupon you allow him to escape and conceal himself in a building a mere 53 stories high. A clever stratagem, Hilred! You're trying to confuse him, I take it?!
—Castellan Spandrel, Doctor Who, "The Deadly Assassin"
The door looked thick, as did the man guarding it.
Here is a brief list of things that these professional soldiers, guards, and career mercenaries have never been trained not to do:
* Stand next to each other and jabber about how much they hate democracy and apple pie and the smiles on little babies' faces instead of guarding the fucking room;
* Give away their position every five paces by screaming out personal insults at the professional killer they can't see but know for a fact he's in the room, currently training his sights on their big, flapping potty-mouths;
* After catching a glimpse of said professional killer, unload every clip they have at the spot where he used to be, with their backs to about 12 different entry points; and
* Walk around in circles, repeatedly checking for the professional killer in the same square yard of floor space, loudly announcing their discoveries with each revolution.
Of course, none of this eclipses the stupidity of going up against Sam Fisher in the first place, when he's the one who got most of the solitary brain cell everyone had to share.
* Stand next to each other and jabber about how much they hate democracy and apple pie and the smiles on little babies' faces instead of guarding the fucking room;
* Give away their position every five paces by screaming out personal insults at the professional killer they can't see but know for a fact he's in the room, currently training his sights on their big, flapping potty-mouths;
* After catching a glimpse of said professional killer, unload every clip they have at the spot where he used to be, with their backs to about 12 different entry points; and
* Walk around in circles, repeatedly checking for the professional killer in the same square yard of floor space, loudly announcing their discoveries with each revolution.
Of course, none of this eclipses the stupidity of going up against Sam Fisher in the first place, when he's the one who got most of the solitary brain cell everyone had to share.
The reason the heroes are always so easily able to infiltrate the bad guy’s secret base isn’t because evil minions are stupid. I mean, they may well be, but that’s not why.
Rather, it’s because effective operational security depends on establishing and enforcing norms. No behaviour is suspicious in the abstract; that judgment can only be made with reference to some accepted code of conduct.
And if you’re a minion? You basically have no point of reference, because working for an evil overlord is, scientifically speaking, weird as hell.
You had to fight a giant squid as part of your orientation. You’re pretty sure Alice over in engineering is a version of you from a parallel universe, but neither of you have ever had the guts to bring it up. Your supervisor wears a horned helmet in the goddamn break room.
So when you’re confronted with that “new hire” who’s really, really obviously three raccoons in a trenchcoat, you’ve gotta ask yourself: is this… normal? Should I be reporting this to someone?
More importantly, do I want to make this my problem?
And for those who make it as minions, the answer very quickly becomes no, no I do not.
Rather, it’s because effective operational security depends on establishing and enforcing norms. No behaviour is suspicious in the abstract; that judgment can only be made with reference to some accepted code of conduct.
And if you’re a minion? You basically have no point of reference, because working for an evil overlord is, scientifically speaking, weird as hell.
You had to fight a giant squid as part of your orientation. You’re pretty sure Alice over in engineering is a version of you from a parallel universe, but neither of you have ever had the guts to bring it up. Your supervisor wears a horned helmet in the goddamn break room.
So when you’re confronted with that “new hire” who’s really, really obviously three raccoons in a trenchcoat, you’ve gotta ask yourself: is this… normal? Should I be reporting this to someone?
More importantly, do I want to make this my problem?
And for those who make it as minions, the answer very quickly becomes no, no I do not.
