Voodoo Fishin’ — Missions & progression

Bro, I'm seriously craving some enchanted avocado toast. Here's an avocado, little brown, but it's got heart. · Problem is, Auntie Brigitte creeps me out. Pinches my cheeks, gives me those super wet kisses. I can't, bro. · Oh, and take this boot. Don't ask, she likes 'em. Put it in your cooler and go see Auntie, then bring me back an enchanted avocado. · Do that and my new Bamboozler rod is yours!

Thanks bruh! Should really level up my recovery. Here, the Bamboozler’s yours. A deal’s a deal.

I told everyone I could deadlift the biggest cooler full of fish. Help me make that story true before someone asks for a rematch. · Ten fish, any kind. Weight is weight, bro.

Set it down right there. I’m warming up. Don’t look at my form. Actually… look a little. Here, take these Jazzercise pants. They don’t fit me anymore. Quads got too powerful.

Bro, I read that Voodoo Nautalina is pure lean protein. Also it might glow. · Problem is, they won’t touch regular bait. You gotta get some enchanted at Auntie Brigitte’s. The recipe page’ll walk you through it. I’d go myself, but she keeps calling me “the big one” and asking if I’ve been eating my greens. I have not, bro. · Catch me one and I’ll handle the macros.

It's looking at me. That's fine. Gains don't blink. Wait... do gains blink? Asking for a friend. Me. I'm the friend. · Here, take my Barbell Rod. Every cast is a rep.

Bro, I dropped my vitamins. Three bottles, all over the swamp. · They’re totally normal vitamins. Doctor recommended. Well, a guy at the gym recommended. He said “doctor” a lot. · I’d look myself, but it’s rest day. Rest day is very important. Especially near the creepy parts.

All three? Bro. You’re basically my spotter now. Don’t read the labels. The labels are in a language I don’t speak either. Here, a spotter gets the signature look. Business up front, gains in the back.

Somebody took my posing mirror. Without it I can’t check form, and without form I’m just a guy with muscles and feelings. · Can you find it and bring it back to me?

Did you find my good side? Careful with the glass. That’s premium reflection. Here, take my sweat shorts. Fair warning, they’ve seen things. Mostly my thighs.

Bro. Speed drill. Catch one fish out in the Voodoo Lagoon and get back here before the clock runs out. · I’d go myself, but last time I was out there, somebody whispered my name. Nobody was there, bro. Nobody. Probably just the wind. The wind knows my name now. · Go, go, go! Speed is my training method.

You got one? Nice hustle, bro! …Did anybody say your name out there? No? Cool. Cool cool cool. Here, take this rod. Nothing fancy, but it never skips a day.

Bulking season, bro. My chum bucket’s on a strict meal plan: four servings, no cheat days, and the clock’s already running. · Chum four times before the timer runs out. · Don’t skip a meal. Never skip a meal. The fish around here can smell weakness. And chum. Mostly chum.

Is it full? Please say it’s full. Look at that. Peak nutrition. Here, take my spare sweatband. Feeding time is cardio. Now go before the fish start lining up again.

Bro. New diet. All fish, zero vegetables. I need three Filterus Gulpicus. · Big ol’ carp, mouths like a vacuum. They just cruise around gulping everything in sight. No plan, no portions, just gulp. Honestly? Respect. That’s my kind of meal prep. · Bring me three, bro.

Three Gulpicus! Look at those mouths. That’s a fish that never skipped a meal. Here, bro, take this reel. It’s a dumbbell. Every crank is a curl.

Chum the water by my dock. Three times. · I want the big fish watching my next lift. Every legend needs a crowd, bro. · Not too big, though. Like, impressed-big. Not eats-a-guy big.

You got an audience together? Look at ’em. They’re watching. They’re… really watching. Okay, that’s plenty of audience. Here, take this top. My, uh, girl left it here before she… disappeared. She just stopped coming to class. The fish keep staring at it. You keep it.

Eight catches. Five minutes. · It’s interval training for your arms, bro. Reel, rest, reel, rest. Except no rest. Rest is for rest day, and today is not rest day. · Feel the burn. Go!

Eight already? Let me check the clock. Legit. That’s a personal best. For you. Mine’s way higher. I didn’t write it down. Here, take my headphones. Pump-up playlist on max. Drowns out the whispering. What whispering? Exactly. Works great.

yo cher, Im makin' muh cousin some of my famous crawhead saute, the secret is to keep stirring. · Think you could fetch me soma that Loosiana booty warmin' sauce? · Rusty Remy usually has plenty in his junk shop, imma need like 4 bottles.

Ooh weee, that's the good stuff cher. Muh cousin gonna eat real good tonight. Here, take some snacks outta my lunchbox. Hot dog, boiled egg, Twinkie. Fish love ’em more’n I do. Almost.

Cher, I been under this hood since sunup. · Bring me six fish, any kind’ll do. I ain’t picky. Half’s for supper, half’s for research.

Ooh weee, these’ll do. Don’t ask me which half is which. Here, take this rod, cher. Made it outta an old exhaust pipe. Still a little warm. That’s normal.

I need a Voodoo Sprocket Tooth for my engine. Don’t ask why a fish has better parts than my truck. · Thing is, they only bite on enchanted bait, so go see Auntie Brigitte. Treat that recipe page like a repair manual, cher, one step at a time. · Then hook me one and bring it on back.

Lemme see that tooth. Watch your fingers. Here, cher, take my spare weldin’ mask. Protects your face from sparks, fish, and family photos.

Cher, I need parts. Six sprockets, to be exact. · Most folks call ’em junk. Most folks lack vision. Where you see a rusty ol’ gear, I see a boat motor, a blender, and maybe a ceiling fan if I’m feelin’ fancy. · Track down six of ’em and bring ’em on back to the shop.

Six sprockets! Lay ’em out so I can see what’s load-bearing. This one’s load-bearing. That one’s emotional support. · Here, cher, take this rod. Built it outta sticks and leftovers, so don’t ask what’s holdin’ it together.

Bad news, cher. A gator swiped my toolbox right off the dock. Ate the box, spit out the wrenches. Picky eater. · Three sets of ’em are out there now, scattered all over the swamp. · Find all three sets of wrenches and bring ’em back here, would ya? Watch for the gator. He’s still hungry.

There’s my babies, all three sets. That one’s got teeth marks. Wasn’t chewed when I lost it. Here, take one of my work shirts. Grease stains are free. Keep it away from that gator.

Cher, we got us a situation. One of my prototype engines got loose. Number three. · It ain’t supposed to move on its own, but here we are. Last I saw, it was hummin’ off into the swamp like it had somewhere to be. · Go find it and haul it on back here before it makes friends.

You found number three? Is it still hummin’? …Yep, still hummin’. Don’t look it in the carburetor. Here, cher, take this reel. Got a little engine in it, so it fishes top to bottom, surface to mud. Fish can run, but they can’t hide. Neither can the boots.

Motor’s runnin’ dry, cher. She’s makin’ that noise. You know the noise. Sounds like a raccoon losin’ an argument. · Bring me four Oil Squeezers so I can top her off. And don’t squeeze ’em on the way. I’ll know.

All four? Stand back while I top her off. She gets thirsty, and she ain’t polite about it. …Hear that purr? That’s gratitude. Here, take my lucky hat. She likes you, so you get to wear it.

Cher, I bolted a fish-finder onto this engine and now she won’t stop twitchin’. · Chum the water near me six times. I wanna see what she does when she finally finds some fish. · Stand close, but not too close. She bites.

She revved all by herself on number four. That’s either real good or real bad. Writin’ it down as good. Writin’ it down in pen, so it’s official. · Here, take my spare work pants. Every research assistant needs pockets.

Here’s my lighter, cher. · Get it enchanted, then set it down by the engine. · Nothin’ warms a cold motor like a little voodoo fire.

Now that’s a campfire. Warm enough to cook a gumbo, or a gator if he gets too close. · Here, take some chili peppers. Fish go crazy for the heat.

Oh! A visitor! Hello there. I’m Lucile. Lil’ Lucile, most folks say, though I can’t recall the last time folks said much of anything. · I host a tea party out here every afternoon. The swamp is ever so quiet, and my guests are a little shy. I saved a seat for a friend, but she’s running late again. · Would you cast this Enchanted Decoy out beside me so her spot isn’t empty? Mama always said an empty chair at tea is terrible manners.

Oh, she looks just right. You’re welcome at my table any time, so long as you mind your manners. · Here, have some gummy bears from the party. Don’t eat them all yourself. The fish like them too.

Tea’s nearly ready, but there’s nothing to eat. · Would you bring me five fish? Any kind will do. My guests aren’t fussy. They hardly eat at all, really.

Five! One for everybody, and one left over for whoever comes late. · Take this jar. I used to keep fireflies in it, but they always flew away. Fish don’t fly away. Mostly.

My tea party needs a little guest with pretty colors. A Voodoo Betta would be just perfect. · They’re awful particular, though, and they won’t bite on plain old bait. You’ll need to visit Auntie Brigitte first. She knows how to make bait special, and the recipe page can be your guide. Tell her Lucile sent you. She’ll know. · Then catch me a Betta and bring him here, gently. He’s the guest of honor.

Is that my new guest? Let me see him. Oh, he’s even prettier than I hoped. · Here, take my teacup. Nobody drinks from it anymore, but it spins ever so nicely.

I picked flowers for my guests, but I set them down somewhere and wandered off. · Could you find three bunches? They’ll be wherever I left them.

Did you find them all? I only remember picking two. · Here, wear my bonnet. It keeps the sun off, and I don’t go out in the sun much anymore.

There was a little dollhouse where I used to play. I think it’s still out there. I left it somewhere when… when I had to go. · Could you bring it back to me?

Was it where I said? It looks just like I remember. Or maybe I look just like it remembers. · Take my umbrella. It never kept me dry, but I bet it can catch a fish.

My guests get restless when there’s nothing to play with. · Could you find three dollies and three trikes? They don’t have to be new. Mine never were.

Oh, they’ve been out in the rain. That’s all right. Everything out here has. · Here’s my ducky. Auntie did something to him, and now he won’t stop looking at the water. The fish can’t stop looking at him either.

Would you catch three fish nearby? Quietly, please. · My guests are resting.

Did you catch them without making a fuss? Shh. · Here, take my party skirt. It twirls, but not right now. Don’t wake anybody.

I sent out invitations. Real ones, with ribbons. Nobody came. Not one. · Well, that’s alright. A party’s still a party if you say so out loud. · Would you set three of your decoys around my blanket? They can be my guests today. They won’t eat much, and they never interrupt.

Look at that. A full table. They’re very polite, aren’t they? Nobody’s leaving early. · Here’s a party favor. It’s Auntie’s special bait. It wiggles in the dark, and things in the dark wiggle back.

The dollhouse is gone again. I didn’t move it, and I didn’t see who did. It’s somewhere out in the swamp now, all by itself. · Would you find it and bring it back to me? Quick as you can, please. · I don’t like waiting alone after dark. The dark doesn’t like it either.

You’re back already? Is it okay? Let me see inside. …One little chair, tipped over. Somebody was sitting there. Never mind. · Here, take my party blouse. It matches the skirt. Now you can come to tea properly dressed, even after dark.

Psst, you got a second to help a brother out? I seem to have misplaced some potentially incriminating legal documents in a boating accident, it sure would complicate things if the wrong people got a peek, you git me? Use your Grappling Hook Bait to pull a brief case out of the swamp. You're welcome to keep anything else you find, just forget you saw any paperwork.

You got it open? Good. Real good. Whatever else was rattlin’ around in there is yours. I don’t wanna hear about it. · Take this mousetrap too. It only catches junk, but junk tells no tales. Just go easy on the line, ’cause some junk fights back. Far as anybody asks, we never talked.

I need six fish. Any fish. · It’s for a dinner party, a completely legal dinner party, and my guests aren’t picky. They’re just happy to be invited. Very happy. Owe-me-a-favor happy.

Beautiful. If anyone asks, you caught these for charity. Which charity? Great question. Next question. · Here, take this reel. It fell off a truck. A fishing truck. Very gently.

Bring me a Voodoo Eddie Devil. It’s for a friend who collects devils. It’s a hobby. People have hobbies. · Now, these little guys don’t go for regular bait. You’ll want something enchanted, and Auntie Brigitte’s your gal. The recipe page’ll show you how. · And if she asks who sent you, you don’t know any Steve.

Ugh. He looks just like my old business partner. That’s a joke. Mostly a joke. · Here, take this reel. It used to be a fashion accessory. Very exclusive. Came with a curfew. It tracks fish real good now.

I need a Miami Drug Smuggler. Fish. It’s a fish. · My buddy’s throwing a theme party, ‘Night in Miami,’ and he wants authentic local seafood. Is it local? No. Is he my buddy? Loosely. · Bring me one, and if you see anybody with binoculars, just keep fishin’.

Oh, that’s a beauty. Smells like neon and bad decisions. · Here, take my shades. Very Miami. Very nobody-can-tell-where-you’re-lookin’. Trust me, that comes in handy.

Psst. Over here. No, don’t look over here. Look at the water. Good. · I’m in the market for two Long Range Hole Punches. Office supplies. For my office. Where I punch holes. From a distance. · Bring me two and I’ll pay top dollar. Their previous owners won’t be needing them. Because they moved. Far away. Very normal move.

Two Hole Punches? Keep your voice down. Okay, now act casual. That’s too casual, nobody whistles like that. · Here, take these pants. They’re from a costume party. The theme was orange. Walk normal. Normal-normal, not suspicious-normal.

So, funny story. I had three packages, and now I have zero packages. They’re out there somewhere in the swamp. · What’s in ’em? Stuff. Regular stuff. Stuff that should stay dry and unopened, for its own safety. · Go out and find all three and bring ’em back to me. Don’t shake ’em, don’t sniff ’em, and definitely don’t read the labels.

All three? Still sealed? Beautiful. You didn’t peek, right? Good, ’cause there’s nothing to see. · Here, take this rod. I found it pointed at my house for six months, so now it’s mine. It sees everything. Mostly fish.

So there’s a official game analysis out in the swamp. A big one. It’s mine. · What’s in it? Personal belongings. Large personal belongings. · Go find it and haul it back here to me. Lift with your legs, and if it makes a noise, no it didn’t.

Heavier than I remember. Probably the humidity. Did it say anything on the way over? Don’t answer that. · Here, Auntie’s special bait. It buzzes. It nips. Don’t ask what I traded her for it.

There's an old Grandpa Big Mouth out there. Seen a lot. Heard a lot. Knows a lot. · Catch him and bring him to me on ice. · Why? No reason. He's a fish. Fish can't talk. Everybody knows fish can't talk. Right? ...Right?

He’s got that look, like he remembers me. Into the cooler, old timer. · Here, take this reel. It’s quiet, and it’s quick. Like a good witness. A good fishing witness.

Okay, I need a favor, and I need it fast. Catch a Silver Bullet and bring it to me before the timer runs out. · Why the rush? I got a guy. The guy has a deadline. The deadline has a guy. It’s a whole chain of guys. · Don’t ask questions. Just fish. Fast.

Just in time. Look at that shine, it’s like a getaway car. A fishing getaway car. · Here, take this shirt. It’s from a costume party. The theme was orange. If you got the pants too, you’re a natural. If not, keep fishin’.

I’m going through something. A crisis. A half-life crisis. · There’s a canister out there with my name on it. Not literally. Please don’t check. It’s the one that’s a little… warm. Find it and crack it open. · What’s inside? Stuff. Hazardous stuff. Ambiguously hazardous. If your stuffing starts humming, that’s normal. Probably.

You opened it? And you still have all your stitches? Count ’em. Okay, good. Why are you glowing? You’re not glowing. · Here, take these. Boat pants. Very classy. Very innocent. Nobody wearing these has ever done a crime.