What follows is part one of a three–part journey into madness. Meteo X, a man whom God himself deemed unfit for humanity and therefore biologically categorized him as prime rib striplets, found himself in a quandary within a conundrum. All five of the games he had played this month were singularly the most frustrating exercises of hopeless pain and nihilistic spiritual jacking off to come in years. Not a single game brought an easy-earned smile to Meteo’s beautifully resculpted face, and each literally brought a frown to his ass. The cleft has shifted even!
Now, with words unearthed from the heart of a human boy, let Meteo X display his emotionality, as only he could, in prose crystal-eloquent and pure….
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!
Here’s an ass-blasting, piece of shit question: Have any of you sick bastards ever played QUAKE II for the N64? Fuck-knuckles! I hope not! There’s no fucking reason in the faggoting world for you to have to experience what I just ass did. Whore! I’m pissed. I wasted a day’s worth of crapping time trying to fuck my way through this assing game like a damn communist abortion. That’s time I will never shit back! And I only made it like two-thirds of the way through. Pussy.
Now, I was a stranger to Quake when I started it up, but not a stranger to id. id made the ONLY FPS games I ever needed. Wolfenstein 3D for the Jag and the original Doom games (including 64) were my bullet-time bloodlust that satisfied every sexual urge I had toward demonic violence. Hell, sometimes you couldn’t tell the two of us apart! Those were the good old days.
Again, now, I’m a 24-year-old autistic man with little else to do but play Quake II because it showed up in my collection. I don’t fucking know where the fetusing little butt nugget came from, but I was determined to play it and crown my dick a champion. Some lesbian arrogance on my part, sure, but honest to Buddha X bitchslapping hornballing tapdancing Siddhartha, no one could’ve seen any of it coming. And why the fart humping doglicking rimjobbing circus midget should we have?
“This is not how we design our games!”
The first grievance I piss into your ear is the difficulty of the game. Difficulty might not be the best word—a better word would be the “impossibility” of the game. You’re up the creek without a cunt this time. You’re going to get your ass handed to you on the third level at the latest. That’s because every enemy in this game seems to have a Gatling gun and futuresight. They know where you’re going, and your ass is going to get a pounding. Even the lowly alien soldiers will blast you before you even step into the room. Your tits will be splattered farther over the walls than a chronology of Pamela “Hepatitis ABCs” Anderson. Honest to feces, every single corner has some tall cockgobbler with a grenade launcher and a machine gun and a knife and a laser. They fire FAST. Whether or not you make your shot determines your life or death. And that’s just the enemies—there’s a LOT more to hurt you in this game.
And I mean, like, everything.
You take damage for jumping down a ledge, you take damage for doors closing on you, you DIE if you fall into anything that doesn’t look like a floor, and then you start the whole thing over. Sometimes, I swear, I took damage just because I hadn’t for a while. So when you have like 19 or whatever levels where you take 15 damage for falling in a shaft and then 70 damage because your shotgun blast was an inch too far to the left at least 10 times per level, you’ll be screaming “You fucking fuckshit!” like I did for all to hear and ruin a badly timed baptism that was going on in my backyard for some reason.
The second grievance I squeeze into your mouth as you take it like a woman is the pissdestitute choices that put the “mental retard” in “developmental retard planning.” Further giving you reason to drown your sorry ass in a porcelain of lost souls, everything in this game is far too excessive to be balanced. Your Gatling gun eats up a MINIMUM of 15 bullets every time you push the Z button. It takes 50 bullets to take out the grenade queer that’s currently sodomizing you and another to take out the little bitch firing rockets at you from the other side. Once again, you only have two damage left before you have to do it all over again. Any health left? Nope—you already used up the two medikits that only refill 10 damage a piece. A Gladiator is just behind the door, and anytime you cross his gun, your head pops out your anus in a deluge of blood and semen (btw, what was semen doing in your neck?) that make your stool look like fudge brownies. You run out of ammo every two or three levels. There is no map, so don’t worry about trying to backtrack to find lost items. Just spread your legs, get square with God and kiss life goodbye.
Yeah, I’m bitching like a pregnant Pope during an MRI. FPSs are all about guts and balls, right? Why should the pumped-up supersoldier boy I’m playing as whine about how hard it is? Stick a bastard in it, you cockshitting cum dumpster; men have feelings. Even the sculptured Gods have limits. We all feel pain, and we have the right to say when it’s unnecessary. This game is unnecessary pain. The graphics are mediocre, the music is absent, and the controls are far too finicky to give you a real shot. What FPS potential this cart had is completely forgotten in the rage of programming hell. The only guy I felt worse for than me was the guy I was playing as, knowing he came this far and had no chance of getting out.
Someday I’ll finish this game, but not now. I have a life to live. Jesus didn’t put me on this planet to spew obscenities like a three-year-old Chinese crack whore from the Bronx with a CD coming out and a baby on the way—he wanted to make me the greatest dolphin trainer in the history of Christendom. I will accomplish this first and then come back to this unfun, sorry excuse for a game.
