Well, fuck you, Ulfric Stormcloak! I don't have to help you wash your hairy bagpipes - I can breathe radioactive lasers! I mean, I went out of my way to go meet the rebel leader and reminisce about when we were execution buddies, but he wouldn't give me the time of day. I only know one person who took the second option, and only because his housemate had already taken the sensible choice and they wanted to see what happened if, theoretically, one had the brain of a deck chair.Įither way, you soon discover that you are the legendary Godzillaborn who must save the world from Godzilla and his chums, and all the rebellion business kind of falls by the wayside. At this point, you're given the choice of fleeing the town with either the friendly rebels or the people who just tried to give you a Viking crewcut. Still, the empire insists they're taking their " War on Adventure" policy seriously, but just as you're about to be executed, the town is attacked by Godzilla. When will the authorities at Tamriel learn? If you keep locking people up for minor adventure-related crimes, they'll just be surrounded by other adventurers and be more likely to adventure again when they get out. In the grand tradition of Elder Scrolls games, you start off in prison for an unspecified crime. More importantly, though, no one can yell at me for not playing the fucking multiplayer for once. Actually, I played Skyrim, latest installment of the venerable Elder Scrolls series. So to that end, I stopped playing video games and left the house.
So perhaps we can finally kick this halfhearted excuse for a running theme out of bed and move onto Sandbox Season 2011 - no, no, no, no, no!īut having spent so many weeks getting forced down corridors of every size and shape like the last bit of toothpaste in the tube being manipulated by the flabby, uncoordinated hands of a fat prick, getting yelled at because one of the many specks I haven't fired bullets at yet is holding another speck that can fire rockets, I was in exactly the right mood to get out in the open, feel the wind in my hair and the rolling epic landscape beneath my feet.
Shooter Season 2011 has finally rolled off my rigid, unfulfilled body and is now snoring face down into the pillow with only the promise of Serious Sam 3 as a spirited midnight quickie later on.
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