Tag: Low hanging fruit

8.) One Mona Lisa Smile (The Davinci Code)

9.) One Copy of, “Night Rocker” by The Hoff (City Crisis)

10.) One blood stained trucker hat. (Silent Hill: Origins)

11.) One handful of crushed Peony petals (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon)

Paradise Hill: Origins

by Colin 25 Apr 2021

City Crisis

by Colin 28 Mar 2021

Tom Hank’s War on the French

by Colin 8 Mar 2021

Fugitive Hunter – A Game About Terrorists..Made By Terrorists.

by Colin 1 Mar 2021

CSI: Paradise

by Colin 23 Feb 2021

American Idol: Songs of Sorrow

by Colin 19 Feb 2021

All Vroom And No Boom Makes Periwinkle A Dull Boy.

by Colin 13 Feb 2021

I didn’t create the Reservoir Dogs game, I’m just dealin’ with it!

by Colin 9 Feb 2021

Are You Ice Cold Counter Terrorist Special Agent Jack Bauer? Take The Quiz To Find Out!

by Colin 3 Feb 2021

Introducing Periwinkle the Poolboy: Cold Winter

by Colin 28 Jan 2021

For survival horror, retro sports and more shit check out my site or spam me on social media!

Paradise Hill: Origins

POSTCARDS FROM PARADISE HILL

… I never really understood how I got there until long after I was already apart of the town. The last thing I remember is seeing Cookie walk into a fog. I followed in after him wondering where he was off to. He seemed quiet and more focused than usual. Eventually the fog grew so thick I could barely see directly in front of me. I called out for Cookie to no response.

It felt like I had been walking for days. Eventually the sand of the beach turned into asphalt and I began following the lonely white road line to keep some sense of direction. It felt as though I was traveling in dream years. So quickly through time that it gave the illusion of time itself standing still. When all at once the silhouette of a sign jutted out through the mist.

“WELCOME TO PARADISE HILL”

That was a few weeks ago I believe. But it could have been years ago. Time is a concept very rarely regarded in Paradise Hill. Besides, I had bigger fish to fry. I stood with the letter in my hand. I couldn’t believe it. The letter read:

“NOTICE OF EVICTION”

I stood shocked. I had fallen in love with the town. No traffic, no lines, no one to bother me. The fog made certain things and people a bit harder to see but really, once you got used to squinting all the time it was quite the destination. It had all of the makings and charm of your typical north west lumber town.

Nurses between shifts walking down the road together. I seem to see the same group every day after I wake up, hop out of bed and take a shower in Paradise Motel. “Hi ladies! Working hard or hardly working?” They always seem to get a kick out of it.

When I did leave the motel room in it was in short bursts. Run to the corner store and pick up a six pack – stop at the diner and use the kitchen to cook up a couple of steaks and then stroll merrily back through the blurry black and white white fog to my hotel room. Occasionally outside some loud fire siren would go off and it’d start to get dark outside but i never seemed to have an issue with it.

Just like anywhere else – you keep to yourself and no one tends to bother you. Not even in Paradise Hill. Until now.

As I read the eviction notice the board of directors at Paradise Hills sited a few reasons for my cause of eviction:

1.) LACK OF LODGING EXPENSES PAID: It’s true. I wasn’t paying rent. I mean no one ever asked. One time some guy with a huge hat knocked on the door and just sort of stood there and walked off. But I didn’t know if he was the landlord or just a creeper.

2.) THEFT OF GOODS AND SERVICES:

– (5) Welcome to Paradise Hill gift shop shirts

– (16) Six packs of Paradise Hill Ale

– (2) Bottles of sexual lubricant

– (1) Copy of The Titanic

– (1) Copy of Silent Hill: Origins

3.) FAILURE TO FACE YOUR OWN INNER DEMONS/ BE CREEPED OUT

Mr Winkle. Please – keep the goods you have procured and please leave town immediately. You are no longer welcome here at majestic Paradise Hill. Also your Sea Lion has been returned to your home safely. Please do not speak to any one on your way out as you have been creeping out the other residents for quite some time now.

Sincerely,

PARADISE HILL TOWN HALL

I packed up all my belongings as some beautiful sad music began playing from no where and I backpacked out of town. As I was on the outskirts of town I heard cheers of celebration. But before long I saw the bright lights and sights of Paradise again. Like a tilt-a-whirl through the dark. As I walked through the crowd no one seemed to notice me.

It dawned on me that I was now trapped in Paradise Hill forever. I was free to travel across the globe but no one would ever see me again. Only maybe being able to detect my presence here and there like that one movie with Sean Bean in it.

Which I was completely fine with. I began to think of the possibilities of my new invisible life. I could sneak into Area 51 and finally figure out what the hell that place was all about. I could get into concerts for free. I could haunt people! This was going to be great. But my first mark was a hot dog stand I saw off the path near the coconut’s huts. I grabbed a roll and reached in the hot water and grabbed a hot dog. I slapped it into the bun and took a bite. Ah. Delicious hot dog stand hot dogs. Disgusting and delicious and now free for the rest of m-

“You gonna pay for that?”

Turns out I wasn’t invisible. And I wasn’t getting free hot dogs for the rest of my life. I walked home.

FANCY INTRO VIDEO

Released: March 4 2008

Developer: Climax Action (Sudeki, The Italian Job)

Published: Konami

Well back to reality and really sad gaming. Today, we have a case of a game that might have been alright if it wasn’t associated with such a strong franchise. I also sort of wanted to use this opportunity to explain what little work that does actually go into these posts and the sad consequences that result from playing (generally) nothing but bad games all of the time.

Not pictured: The Cry Hole that I crawl into after hours of bad gaming.

When Pinkie and I had a check in conversation (now that she has a palace built it’s become a whole event with feasts and festivities etc) she asked what I was working on. I told her I was planning on starting Silent Hill: Origins. She responded with, “isn’t that the really bad one?”

Which surprisingly it’s not the really bad one. It’s just not a really good one. Which sums up this game perfectly. If it were named anything else it would probably be considered a forgotten but slightly above average survival horror game – starts off kind of lame, picks up and ends in an absolutely nonsensical way. Put the words Silent Hill on the case however and now you’re looking at a lackluster experience.

In the game you start off as rootin’ tootin’ truck driver, Travis Grady. He’s driving his MAC Truck getting his kicks off Route 66 and all that when he spots a little girl in the road. He swerves to avoid her (as most human beings tend to do) and stops to get out and investigate the scene. Looking for the lost child, he sees her approaching from behind him in his rear view mirror only to disappear which scares the shit out of him but certainly doesn’t deter him from abandoning his vehicle and walking miles and miles in a thick fog in the middle of the road.

Eventually this leads Travis to a house fire. He spots some weird broad hanging out by the burning house and runs in because of course he does. And he rescues some kid that’s torched like a marshmallow. Eventually passing out – he awakes in Silent Hill to go search for the french fry kid and madness ensues.

Now, if I may – first off – I am a Daughter Daddy. She is the light of my life. When my wife was pregnant I think I surprised her by crossing my fingers and hoping for a daughter and we were lucky enough to get a bright, beautiful, healthy little lady. I fucking love that kid. BUT – I have watched enough scary movies to know that if I’m out in the middle of no where and some creepy little girl is hanging around – I’M NOT FOLLOWING HER. I DON’T CARE. GO AWAY. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Alright, with that out of the way lets cover a couple of things that this game does really nicely. The sound effects and soundtrack are top notch – Silent Hill quality. Like all other SH soundtracks, composed by the master, Akira Yamaoka. The absolute badass Thom Yorke-esque dark genius of video game soundtracks. The sound effects and music are unnerving and uncomfortable – aptly suited for the atmosphere.

I want to recommend this game so much more but it breaks my own personal cardinal sin of gaming: difficulty due to controls. There is nothing I hate more than fighting a game more than the story or gameplay itself.

Controls and saboteur camera angles are what takes this Silent Hill entry out at the knees. The storyline and voice acting isn’t seminal by any stretch of the imagination but it’s not noteworthy poor. The puzzles are weak and there is a lot of backtracking (RE style) – also not a lot of actual area to explore. For an open town the game has you on rails for a good majority of it.

Camera angles that can really get in your head

The game does certain things right but it does so many little things wrong that it begins to become a serious distraction. The small unnecessary changes are enough to anger longtime fans. The nurses now see and react to noise/light/everything – just another static sprite that is easy to avoid but lacks any of their signature creepiness.

You can pick up large heavy objects to toss at monsters – which is cool – but kind of pulls you out of it as you go through your inventory and realize that your character is carrying twelve portable TVs, three filing cabinets, sixteen I.V. drip bag stands and six different guns. I am not a huge fan of Resident Evil’s death-by-no-inventory-space strategy but how many fax machines can one guy hold?

Not to mention you don’t even really need weapons most of the time. The ability to punch your enemies is overpowered for a survival horror game. I have beat up so many nurses in the past week I could star in my own episode of COPS.

Bottom line: Please for the love of all things holy – Konami – if you are going to outsource one of your flagship franchises please let it be to Kojima Productions. I don’t give a shit what beef you guys have. Figure it out and lets do this.

SHOP TIL YOU DROP

Now here is where it gets tricky. To be frank, even the bad games I adore. I just love playing games. I love buying them, I love looking at my horrible collection of bargain bin trash just as much as any rare games I find. Like little trophies made from melted garbage can lids. They’re mine and I absolutely enjoy playing and writing about them.

Generally, on this blog I deal almost exclusively with cheap games. This game? Not very cheap. Luckily for me, I purchased this years ago before everything Silent Hill exploded in price online.

I would never, ever tell anyone what to buy or what not to buy. I wouldn’t even judge anyone for buying Rule of Rose for $16,999. I mean, I would hope you would find it cheaper but whatever at the end of the day it’s your money, you work hard for it, you spend it on whatever you want.

Right now it looks like it’s averaging about $110-120 on eBay.

Is it worth $2300? I’d have to give it a hard, “no.” But I clean pools for a princess that pays me in bad games – so you do you. I would suggest checking out eStarland or Lukie Games over bid sites for collector’s series games like Silent Hill. There are a ton of gougers that will buy everything up just to raise prices even higher upon resell THUS continually driving up market prices for regular gamers like you and I. Dicks.

DESERT ISLAND SONG

The classic that can get anyone in the mood. Even if it’s for Origins:

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

8.) One Mona Lisa Smile (The Davinci Code)

9.) One Copy of, “Night Rocker” by The Hoff (City Crisis)

10.) One blood stained trucker hat. (Silent Hill: Origins)

Suggestions? Requests? Send me a message!

City Crisis

Generally this is where I write a little segment about my life on the resort. How despite the fact I am relegated to bashing rats with hammers, clearing out asbestos from around the basement pipes and cleaning up the sidewalks after the tourists have had too much to drink it’s still pretty close to paradise. Somewhere in Southeast Asia the weather is beautiful and the food is even better. But this introduction is different because this City Crisis game – if that’s what you would call it – this “game” is as far from paradise as heaven is wide.

If you hate someone. Stop what you’re doing and search “City Crisis PS2” on Amazon. Then – buy one of the BILLIONS of copies available and send it to your enemies’ address. Upon arrival they may think it was an accident or maybe even a gift. Surely if they do make the mistake of playing the game it’ll be one of the last things they ever do. After an hour or so of gameplay they’ll be sure to leap from their high rise apartment window. Or maybe just start hitting their head against a wall until eventually they’ve lost so much blood it all fades to black.

It’s impossible to tell how many copies of City Crisis were actually unleashed on the public but thankfully not enough to actually create a real city crisis. I can only imagine that if hundreds of thousands of people raced to the store to buy this game the day it came out there would have been deadly riots in the streets only hours later.

Even if I have been told by reliable sources that Germans absolutely love helicopter and farming games. My father in-law is off the boat German and has never mentioned his love for either. But certainly if he loves this game than he is ashamed and would never want to show such poor judgement to his son-in-law. Any fans of City Crisis are surely too ashamed to come forward. As they should be.

Developed by Syscom Entertainment which has disappeared off the face of the Earth (probably due to overwhelming shame) and published by giants Take-Two Interactive.

The game was released on July 17th 2001. Meaning it also shares a birthday with someone inexplicably popular in Germany as well. Yes, you immediately know who I’m about to drag into this. The Hoff was born on July 17th. He single handily tore down the Berlin Wall brick by brick with songs of rescuing babes from maritime disaster and personally woo-ed the Soviets back into loving a capitalist system (kind of). That’s what they teach American school children at least!

But like every good balance in the universe – if David Hasselhoff is pure good born on July 17th then sack of shit Gavin McInnes is the flip side of the coin. If you don’t know who he is then you’re better off.

But where were we? Ah yes, back to City Crisis. You are immediately thrust into the cockpit of a helicopter named after incredibly lame animals to name a helicopter after.

Helicopters are named: Dolphin, Lobster and Goldfish.

“Sir! The skyscraper you’re in is burning! We’ve come to save you!!”

“Oh, thank God for you, heroes! Thank you so much!”

(*Begins to notice that the rescue helicopter is named LOBSTER and has the animal painted on the Helicopter tail*)

“Ya know what? It’s fine. I’m good! Go rescue someone else. I’ll just jump”

Not to mention there is something seriously wrong in this game world and the constant burning buildings is not nearly as big as an issue that needs to be addressed compared to whatever fictional country they have pissed off. In one flying/rescue segment it’s not unusual for seven to eight different buildings to just randomly explode on opposite ends of the city within a few minutes of one another. Are we at war? Is this The Blitz? Faulty gas lines? What the fuck is actually going on around here?

Or is it that the graphics of this fictional city are just so poor the citizens themselves have just had enough and are destroying their own city in a desperate cry for help? We may never know. But the Helicopter Rescue Budget for the city has to be through the roof. I’m not sure how they could afford much else.

Speaking of affording things you can find this game for like $2.50 on eBay. And some asshole is even trying to sell it for $71.00. Don’t pay either of those prices. Just don’t buy this game, sweet Germans. You deserve better helicopter games.

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

8.) One Mona Lisa Smile (The Davinci Code)

9.) One Copy of, “Night Rocker” by The Hoff (City Crisis)

Text me

Tom Hank’s War on the French

Long before I ended up traveling across the pacific on a raft with only a volley ball to keep me company I was a world renowned Symbolist. I know it sounds far fetched but it’s true. Due to this experience I almost immediately have a hard time wrapping my head around The Da Vinci codes’ main character, Robert Langdon in the video game adaption based on the best selling Dan Brown novel of the same name.

Let me explain why. Interestingly enough, both, The Da Vinci Code game and movie starring Tom Hanks were released on the same day. BUT – the game version is not based on the theatrical version at all – sticking closely to Dan Brown’s original novel. So that’s why Robert Langdon in the game has absolutely no visual similarities to Mr. Hanks. In fact he’s better looking. But even knowing that – that doesn’t mean I will play fair and not compare video game/book Robert Langdon to Tom Hanks Robert Langdon. Because I’m not fair and never have been. That’s boring. So from here on out Robert Langdon is Tom Hanks and vice versus.

There are two universal truths in this world:

Despite being tall I will never be good at basketball no matter how hard I try.

If Tom Hanks plays you in a movie you’re a smart character but you’re physically weak.

If Tom Hanks was a trading card – any simple or evolved form of Tom Hanks would give you +5 boost in intelligence and awareness but your physicals are going to plummet. Out of all his movie eras Da Vinci Hanks has some of his most atrocious stat lines:

*The -3 Strength is attributed to his horrible hair cut. Not only does it makes him much more vulnerable to attacks from behind but also attacks from the front on his feelings and judgement.

Am I actually supposed to believe that this guy can beat up anything at all? Let alone policemen? Sometimes even several at a time? The historically ignorant may scoff at a French Police Force and the French in general for being too relaxed and refined to be bothered with any sort of fist fight with Tom Hanks. Their bellies too full with delicious cheeses and wines to bother kicking the crap out of a long haired Tom Hanks but I am not one of those people. I know what the good people of France are capable of.

It’s true – the French are a cultivated and beautiful people. With a language that is smooth, enchanting and musical it is easy to forget these brave people stared directly back into the face of Nazism with no fear. And fuck, they even took taxi cabs to battle in World War I. That’s classy and badass.

So I immediately find it far fetched that any Harvard scholar, “symbolist” played by Tom Hanks could just teleport down into the center of Paris and just start throwing hands at everything. It’s one thing to suspend my reality but to imagine that is to completely disown it.

Anyways, enough about Tom Hanks fighting Frenchmen.

The Da Vinci Code is a 2006 adventure puzzle game developed by The Collective and published by 2k Games. The Collective was an American developer that developed mainly licensed games for PC/XBOX/PS2. Looks like their most successful work was the game, Indiana Jones and the Emperor’s Tomb. The Da Vinci Code would be their last release before merging with Backbone Entertainment.

The juggernaut publisher 2k needs little introduction. They publish everything from the BioShock series to the WWE 2k series of games.

The game was met with pretty mixed reviews upon release. Mainly the trouble was with the combat system (very dull and hard to handle) and the graphics (which I don’t think are too bad to be honest)

The puzzles are a lot of fun and I enjoy them quite a bit. It’s everything in between each puzzle that sort of sucks.

Here’s a penis for those of you that like them.

Recently, I had read a post from a writer considerably smarter than me about Christianity in a round about way. It was really well done and despite my lack of faith in just about everything (don’t take it personally) I liked the point she made. And it inspired me. Not to make peace with God. But to do exactly what she begged people not to do in the post: Absolutely dunk on a book series without reading it or knowing what the hell I’m talking about.

So – obviously – it goes without saying I am not Dan Brown. If I was I’d be too busy swimming in my pool of liquified gold to bother with anyone BUT if Robert Langdon in the book fights as many people as he does in this stupid game than Dan Brown is a ridiculous human being.

Also back on the Christianity thing for a moment – the book is basically considered some sort of demon spawn abomination for its rewritten religious history. So I could only imagine the Catholic Church would literally do nothing short of an exorcism had it encountered this game.

Anyways, where was I. It’s impossible to not get lost in a religious tangent when reviewing this game because the entire plot is literally a series of religious tangents. Some art, some mentions of important people, an albino dickhead and a French hottie that for whatever reason feels like protecting you.

It could have just been done so much smarter. While certainly not the worst game I’ve ever played – it’s still pretty damn stupid. Or maybe I’m pretty damn stupid and if I just read the book I wouldn’t be so stuck on the damn logistics of a fighting professor.

Granted Indiana Jones was a teacher that beat ass but that was Harrison Ford. If Harrison Ford would have played this guy I’d be all for it. Harrison Ford is boss sauce. What about Daniel Day Lewis? Matt Damon? Tom Cruise? George Clooney? Literally anyone but Tom Hanks.

The corpse of Leonardo Da Vinci could kick the shit out of Tom Hanks.

Alright, I’m done here. I’m obviously not going to get past it. It’s an okay game but not great. Good bye.

(DEFINITELY DON’T) PEE IN THE POOL

As you can see – the manager enjoys gingers and fisticuffs. I do not.

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

8.) One Mona Lisa Smile (The Da Vinci Code)

If for some reason you’d like to read more of my thoughts or follow me on social media: https://linktr.ee/DarkCorners

Fugitive Hunter – A Game About Terrorists..Made By Terrorists.

When I’m not cleaning out pool filters or checking the water’s PH levels I can often be found organizing my bad games alphabetically. Fugitive Hunter can be found under the letter, F, not for its name but because it’s Fucking dumb.

For nearly two days I had absolutely no notes on this game except that is was mind numbingly stupid.

But that would be letting it off too easy.

Developed by Black Ops Entertainment – a gaming studio developed by four dudes that somehow graduated MIT. The game was published in 2003 by Encore Software – which looking them up – really doesn’t seem to deal with publishing games very often. As they shouldn’t.

The shear amount of ways to attack this game are almost overwhelming. It’d be impossible to cover everything that is wrong with it, to be honest. So I’ll just start at the macro level.

There are different types of terrorism. You have Narco-Terrorists (Cartels, traffickers, drug kingpins etc). There are politically motivated terrorists.. like the IRA. Then your garden variety (choose your religion) extremists and lastly there is a much less violent form of terrorism. A slow, bloodless coup of sorts. A war waged on the mind. Intellectual terrorists like the idiot, Bhad Bhabie or the Kardashians. Stupidity and pointlessness of such a dangerous scale that on a long enough timeline begins to indoctrinate an unsuspecting mind. Thats the territory the minds behind Fugitive Hunter belong to. Intellectual terrorism.

Now that might seem a bit harsh but it’s how I feel.

Post 9/11 America was a weird place. Nationalism was at an all time high and I fucking hate nationalism. Every day in high school for lunch you could find yourself cornered by a recruiter for the Marines or Army. The more punk or alternative you looked the harder you were pressed. You couldn’t drive to the store without hearing a country song about kicking, “Usama-Obama-Ali-Muhammad’s ass” and every fucking Football game would have Jets fly over it. Because that’s what America does. We pay for Jet Fuel to fly over football stadiums instead of housing for the homeless people freezing to death outside of them.

So… I hated the ultra patriot bullshit back then as it is and Fugitive Hunter is the perfect reminder as to why. Macho-bro-American-flag-waving-bullshit. It *just* falls short of satire. If only the writers were just a bit smarter. Or didn’t actually believe the shit they were spewing.

Thats to not say it doesn’t have it’s funny moments. Objectively – fist fighting Osama Bin Laden in an arcade type fight is ridiculous enough to make anyone laugh.

Outside of that however the game just tries too damn hard. It just wants to be cool so bad. It’s really kind of sad to watch. Fortunately, it even seems like the developers realized about halfway through the game what sort of monster they have created and wrap it up abruptly. You can basically beat the final four or five levels within an hour and a half. It’s almost as if one of them woke up and really re-examined their lives.

As far as actual gameplay is concerned it is a First Person Shooter without an aim button. So that should sum up the mechanics of the game for you pretty well. The enemies respawn at a maddening rate – usually directly behind you. All great fun.

The dialogue is basically non existent and when it is there you wish it wasn’t. You can’t make it through a level without the main character tauntingly saying, “Yo Mama” to an enemy he has gunned down at least 15-20 times. The sound is awful. The music is shit. I’m pretty sure Dr. Dre and Eminem could sue them for ripping off the main chords/music to, “Kill You” off the Marshall Mathers LP.

The graphics are awful especially for the time it was released. It’s almost as if this game was created to be bad.

And then it struck me. Like a bolt of lightning – electricity traveling through the universe landing in my head and shooting out my fingertips. This game WAS created to be bad on purpose. This game is a weapon of mass disfunction.

Get this: Did you know Osama Bin Laden was not only big into pop culture but also anime and gaming? When the CIA released more than 417,000 files from the Bin Laden raid he had massive collections of anime, emulators and games. Even popular first person shooters like Counter Strike and Half Life.

So maybe… just maybe … back in 2003 when the government (that can see through buildings from outer space but inexplicably couldn’t find number one most wanted man worldwide, Osama Bin Laden) had to unleash the ultimate weapon. They would feature him in one of the worst video games ever. That would surely flush him out. Right? At the very least bring him to the brink of suicide. A fate deserving of such an evil man. – Periwinkle

(Definitely DON’T) PEE IN THE POOL

And this poor soul who also has been victimized

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

7.) The tooth of a terrorist (Fugitive Hunter)

Follow me on social media if thats your thing: https://linktr.ee/DarkCorners

Definitely not the reason I do this BUT if anything I write brings you joy and you felt like buying me a cup of coffee I would wholeheartedly appreciate it. https://ko-fi.com/colinsik

CSI: Paradise

Before I spent my days skimming pools on an exotic island resort dodging endangered baby Chinese Alligators that Sunny keeps putting in the pool I was a crime scene investigator. A blind, dumb and slow crime scene investigator that despite all physical and mental odds against me still managed to solve five mysteries.

I’m alone, belly up to the bar at Pinkie’s Tavern. A low lit place with smooth jazz and smoother drinks. I look at myself in the warm reflection of the glass behind the bar and then back down at my stiff drink. The singer – some dame with moth wings – purrs in the corner. Nick the bartender comes up quiet but stern.

“Listen, pal. I don’t know what kinda night you’ve had and I don’t wanna know. But I do know that it’s last call and I don’t want to but if I have to just know I‘ll haul ya outta here myself.”

After nights like these it’s hard to just go home. After seeing what I’ve seen for so many years I thought I had become immune to the horrors of crime. Only to be proven wrong yet again – and on this lovely island resort of all places. I will surely take the aftermath images of the Flaming S’mores Killer with me to the grave.

I pay my tab and slowly turn from the bar, adjusting my hat. I turn to look at the singer once more and notice the stage has turned into a load screen. Odd.

I go to step out the door and get hung up on a bar stool. Damn not again.

I’m guessing the bartender is now ordering me out by his body language but I can’t tell because all dialogue has muted itself.

I awake in a cold sweat. Relieved to know I am not some tortured detective in some B Noir Film but saddened that I, again, woke up on the same planet as the game developers that made CSI: Three Dimensions of Murder.

CSI: 3 Dimensions of Murder is based off the hugely successful original CSI television program that ran a jaw-dropping 15 years (2000-2015). Ted Danson was even in it at one point? And Elisabeth Shue?? AND Laurence Fishburne!? Where was I for all of this?

Heyyooo forget 911. Somebody call the fire department

So anyways – Ted Danson, Elisabeth Shue and Lawrence Fishburne weren’t around to save CSI: 3 Dimensions Of Murder. Not that it was the casts fault. The voice acting for its time is pretty good. I mean compared to a lot of shit I’ve played it holds up. But the game is just so damn buggy.

Developed by American developer, Telltale Incorporated (known for their licensed game efforts, The Walking Dead arguably being their most notable) and published by Ubisoft it was released for Windows in 2006. Later ported to PS2 on September 25th 2007. Which is probably why the game is so close to being good and falls short.

Telltale surprisingly went defunct in 2018

Chances are if you’ve never heard of Ubisoft you could give a shit about this article in the first place

The writing is good. It has five cases (which seems a bit small but they are pretty dense stories packed with twists like your typical CSI show). The voice acting is solid. Some of the shit the suspects say is hilarious and boss like this prime example of fed-up-with-the-world-biatch:

What’s frustrating about the game is that the only reason is it takes long is the constant load screens. Even for its era – even if it was early PS2 era it would have too much load time. Let alone 2007. The “playable” crime scene areas are super small – and will have a ton of evidence all basically in one place. Which is fine. Being an older gamer I still love point and click exploration.

BUT what sucks you out of the game is that once you collect the evidence you immediately have to go to the lab to analyze your evidence. *Load Screen*. Analyze your evidence. Now you need to question your suspect again. *Load Screen*. Ask one question. Get another piece of evidence. Return to lab. *Load Screen.* Analyze Evidence. Suspicion arises. Need to question suspect more. *Load Screen.* Question suspect. They tell ya to piss off. Now you need a warrant. *Load Screen* interrogating is granted. *Load screen*

I think you get the point. For every hour I play I might actually get about 35 minutes of gameplay in. That’s like fucking college loan interest rate ratio shit. It’s a six hour campaign but with load times you’re looking at sixteen.

So… aside from that… the controls are horrible. You can see a splatter of blood but ya just can’t… nope… little to the left… shit…to the right…fuck… back to the left. Got it. Sure is hard handling a Q-TIP out in the field.

After all of that – if you can get past it – and that’s a legitimate IF – it’s still pretty fun. Just don’t expect to solve any cases in a hurry. – Periwinkle

(DEFINITELY DON’T) PEE IN THE POOL

*Crickets*

Absolutely nothing. Either:

A.) People don’t give a shit about this post (Likely)

B.) Nobody ever played this game (Less likely but still up there)

C.) Both (Most likely)

*Womp – Womp*

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

6.) An impossible to control Q-Tip (CSI)

Follow me on social media if thats your thing: https://linktr.ee/DarkCorners

Definitely not the reason I do this BUT if anything I write brings you joy and you felt like buying me a cup of coffee in return I would appreciate it wholeheartedly. https://ko-fi.com/colinsik

Thank you to The Dame With The Moth Wings for letting me pollute her space and tell Sunny that I already taught one of his precious Chinese crocodiles to play the harmonica.

American Idol: Songs of Sorrow

Being the newest staff member I may have not properly introduced myself or my history to long time readers. There are several unofficial accounts about how and why I ended up on Paradise and this is one of those stories. The following is all true and not based in fantasy or fiction at all.

“You are total rubbish. You’ve made a mockery of the human voice with your tone deaf crooning. Now bugger off.” Almost as soon as I had arrived to perform I was being whisked away by producers and security guards. A woman with a headset and a clipboard had her other hand on my back guiding me through the winding labyrinth of Fox Television studios. Disembodied hands handed me an American Idol water bottle and T-Shirt as they steered me towards a long hallway with a door to the outside already propped open. They said something about me owning none of the intellectual property or my own likeness on the show, pushing me through the fire escape door and closing it behind me. I looked around the back parking lot I was ushered out to with no fanfare. From the front of the building I could still hear tweens screaming for Ryan Seacrest even though he’s like 60 years old now. I could feel the rumble of the bass from inside the building. I looked straight ahead over a chain link fence and saw a Taco Bell. I needed comfort food with no delay. Little did I know that in less than a year I would be in Paradise. At the very least they wouldn’t ask me to sing.

I had tried out for American Idol and became a laughing stock. I had only did it to try to meet Gwen Stefani and realized last second that she is actually on that other singing show. I was destroyed by the judges. My audition video went viral. People threw snowballs and big gulps at me in the streets. Women would point and laugh as I walked past. I had destroyed my own life and it seemed that redemption was an impossible task. So I boarded a raft and set sail to Paradise Island. Where other than the suspicious looks I get from Foovay I am basically left to my own devices.

But one night as I was brewing up another batch of moonshine I like to make with the day’s unused chlorine reserves I heard a knock at the door. Nervous I was caught siphoning chemicals from the resort I peaked out the window slowly… but no one was there. My pet seal (and only friend) Cookie – barked apprehensively. I opened the door looking out into the bush, seemingly set ablaze by the setting sun’s crimson glow.

The porch empty, the twilight quiet with only the hushed sound of waves crashing on the beach. But at my feet lay a sapphire case. With three faces I knew all too well gracing the cover smiling smugly. Paula, Simon and Randy. I may have been done with American Idol but American Idol wasn’t done with me.

American Idol was developed by the now defunct Hot House Creations. Based out of the United Kingdom they were best known for developing the game, Gangsters: Organized Crime.

It was published by Codemasters – who is one of Britain’s oldest video game publishing companies. Mostly known for its racing titles.

The game isn’t really that bad. It’s your typical rhythm and timing game. Press X, O, [] or ^ when it reaches the middle of the screen. Time it to the music and you’ll do fine- press it too early and it’ll sound like Alvin & The Chimpmunks singing.

It’s full of songs that were monster hits back in the early 2000’s. Your typical 90’s boy bands, Britney, Christina. I stuck closer to adult alternative with Sixpence None The Richer and Al Green songs but as I advanced through the rounds it began to feel pretty weightless. The game doesn’t convey the feeling of urgency to perform well or the intoxication of competition. It just sort of feels like you’re pressing buttons listening to a song. Which is exactly what you’re doing, ofcourse. But the game does a poor job at distracting you from that reality.

As I played the game, blasting through each round (it only takes about a half an hour to complete the “career”) I began to sweat a bit. I was playing the game fine, Cookie barking applause after every perfect play through but it’s almost as if I could feel a current pulsing through me. Soon it became too much – it was like a bolt of lightning from the top of my head.

And then all went dark.

“Lord Winkle? Are you quite alright, Lord Winkle?” I opened my eyes and momentarily slunk back into the chair. “It’s me, Lord. You gave me quite a scare. It seems your Family Man Chair gave you a bit of a shock again!” The man dressed as a butler was fanning himself looking deeply relieved.

“My…Family Man Chair…?” I meeked out.

“Yes. The special chair you had NASA construct you to see what your life would have been had you not won American Idol and become the most powerful man on Earth. I believe you named it after the popular Nicolas Cage film, The Family Man.” The butler seemed to sigh and continue on, “Although I don’t know why you must tamper with such things. You do know the next time you use the Family Man Chair it will be the last. You will have to stay there forever and give up all of this” he says with a shrug and a wave around the small room.

“What’s ‘all this’?” I ask gesturing towards the small shed I was in. The butler laughs, “Your memory must be hazy from the chair.” As he opens the door of the shed to reveal a palace made of pure gold. With lush trees and flying limousines hovering over a traditional drive way. The lush green even more eye popping in contrast to the black sky and the Earth as a backdrop.”

“It’s the moon, sir. They built a glass dome around it and gave it to you. Surely you remember. Right after you liberated the North Korean people and secured world peace with your beautiful rendition of, “Love Fool” by The Cardigans?”

Dumbstruck, I find it impossible to answer as I remove the chair helmet and stagger towards the doorway gaping at the Earth in awe. “…The…Moon..?”

“The Moon, Sir. Ever since you performed, “Hit Me Baby One More Time” that fateful September night. You’ve accomplished everything you ever wanted to but unfortunately, I fear, at a great cost.”

“At what cost, do you mean?” I asked bewildered.

The butler frowned and seemed to contemplate his reply.

“ A terminal loneliness, my lord. You’re emotionally damaged. Although you’re physically fulfilled – men and women from both Earth and Mars have been eager to court you – it seems as though you have made a trade off. Despite all of your personal and professional accomplishments a paranoid insecurity has sunk in. You have convinced yourself that you are unloveable and your past experiences have only justified that self prejudice.”

“What do you mean?” Confused and overwhelmed I pleaded. My stomach turning at the stress.

“The last woman you fell for asked you to sing the Batman Forever soundtrack eight times in a row! The one before that? ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’ twelve times. I mean, people love your voice. Not you.”

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo” I scream as I struggle to strap back into the Family Man Chair. “I must go back!”

“Sir, No!” The butler screams trying to unwrangle me from the chair. “You have eliminated world hunger!”

“I don’t care!” I yell flailing, hitting him in the back as he tries to lift me up.

“Lord Winkle. You mustn’t do this! There is world peace now! If you leave all of this will vanish”

“I don’t care! Leave me alone!”

“But they made your rendition of, ‘Genie In A Bottle’ America’s new national anthem!”

“Enough! I’m going back!”

The butler resigns winded. “Fine. If you must go I won’t stop you but I ask one favor of you. Just one.”

As I strap the chairs helmet to my head I give in. “What is it?”

“Before you leave… can you please sing that one Eagle-Eye Cherry song? Please, Lord Winkle. For me.”

I agree to.

“You are total rubbish. You’ve made a mockery of the human voice with your tone deaf crooning. Now bugger off.” As soon as I had arrived to perform I was being whisked away by producers and security guards. A woman with a headset and a clipboard had her other hand on my back guiding me through the winding labyrinth of Fox Television studios. Disembodied hands handed me an American Idol water bottle and T-Shirt as they steered me towards a long hallway with a door to the outside already propped open. They said something about me owning none of the intellectual property or my own likeness on the show, pushing me through the fire escape door and closing it behind me. I looked around the back parking lot I was ushered out to with no fanfare. From the front of the building I could still hear tweens screaming for Ryan Seacrest even though he’s like 60 years old now. I could feel the rumble of the bass from inside the building. I looked straight ahead over a chain link fence and saw a Taco Bell. I needed comfort food with no delay. Little did I know that in less than a year I would be in Paradise. At the very least they wouldn’t ask me to sing.

(DEFINITELY DON’T) PEE IN THE POOL*

The usual culprits had something to say about the game via Twitter

* I was served a seize and desist order for encouraging others to “pee in the pool”.

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients

4.) A handlebar mustache (American Chopper)

All Vroom And No Boom Makes Periwinkle A Dull Boy.

The pool remains unskimmed. Banana leafs float around aimlessly in the usually meticulous reserve. The brush and lawn overgrown. Visitors have even reported a man late at night somewhere on the edges of the island, arms outstretched in front of him, knees bent as if he were sitting on a bike making guttural puttering noises, only interrupted when he begins bending his right wrists and wailing, “VROOM VROOM” at onlookers while slowly plodding along knees bent and arms still out.

SUNDAY

It all began weeks ago when doing my usual rounds on the beach. A walk on a warm, windy night when suddenly my eyes were averted towards the dark shore amid a thunderous boom. A storm rolling in off the coast I mused, as the wind swept through my hair, nearly blinding me with loose sand. I held my arm over my eyes trying to get a better glimpse at the orbs of light racing towards me from the shore. This was no ship. It was moving too fast. It was too loud. I looked to my left and then to my right to see if anyone else was around to witness this vulgar display of force. But I realized I was alone. But I wouldn’t be for long.

As the lights and roaring thunder neared I realized it was no storm. No angry maiden of the high seas, no sea monster nor ghost ship. It was a motorcycle. An American Chopper. Treading on the surface of the ocean like Jesus on steel wheels.

Upon my horrific realization I spun around and began running back towards the resort but the Chopper ran ashore too fast, leaving pure glass tire trails on the beach sand in its wake. Knowing it was no use I turned around to confront my faceless enemy as the phantom cycle drove right through me and disappeared. Leaving only a copy of American Chopper still warm in my hands. Singed on the edges. Both Paul Teutal and his son Paulie’s faces beckoning me to begin my career as a motorcycle designer.

For the first time in my life I hadn’t chose a game.

It chose me.

MONDAY

American Chopper for the PlayStation 2 was released on June 15th 2006. Developed by Creat Studios based out of St. Petersburg and Published by Activision.

The game itself is based on the popular reality tv series, American Chopper created by The Discovery Channel. American Chopper followed a custom motor cycle shop that was run by a father-son team (Paul and Paul Jr. Teutul) in the early 2000’s. They had gained national recognition for their skillfully crafted custom motorcycles and were also reality tv darlings for their constant father/son power struggles and explosive arguments over creative direction.

While the show was a critical and commercial success for a majority of its television run little can be said about the brands misadventures in the video game industry.

American Chopper is the bastard child of some board room hack that honestly should be put in prison.

The games plot begins with you being the new hire at OCC. Being low man on the totem pole you are required to do everything both Paulie and his father ask of you. The voice acting even though done by the real Teutals is painfully sad to hear. I have never heard more unenthused men play themselves in a video game. It’s almost as if they had played the game before they did the voice acting for it and were ashamed to be associated with this crime against humanity.

As the plot moves forward you go from mundane tasks like picking up spare parts for their bikes to basically motorcycle warfare with rival biker gangs. Even after all of this – pushing and kicking other bikers head on into the paths of Semi Trucks and murdering everything in your site upon completion of the mission you are generally only greeted by a small cut scene of Paul Sr still being disappointed with you.

I could be facing back to back life sentences for the things you people have ordered me to do. The least you could do is be nice to me.

More frustrating than the lack of recognition or approval from your employers is the general control scheme as a whole. I have never rode a chopper. Or any large motorcycle for that matter. But I can safely assume that the turn radius of any sort of motorcycle is better than say I don’t know THE TITANIC? The bike handling is so ridiculous that it feels as if you’re trying to navigate a freighter through narrow city streets at stupid speeds. Almost every mission is timed and the learning curve is brutal.

One mission is particularly devastating as it requires near perfection at high speeds for a really long stretch of time. Slipping and sliding in between traffic, hard curves, and friendly bikers that constantly crash into you (which is held against you) – the mission itself has you white knuckling your controller for nearly 15 minutes straight. And it was then, friends that your boy, Periwinkle had reached a revelation.

TUESDAY

All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy. All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy. All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy. All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy. All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy. All Vroom and no boom makes Peri a dull boy.

WEDNESDAY

Has it been days? Weeks? A feverish trance. At some point while playing the unbelievably redundant game it hit me. The pattern. Go to the motorcycle shop. Get yelled at. Get told what to do. Do it. Go to the motorcycle shop. Get yelled at. Get told what to do and do it again. Over and over. I began looking up to the Tuetals. Was I a Tuetal? Is Paul Sr. My dad? Handlebar mustaches are pretty cool.

THURSDAY

I am not a Tuetal. I am something more. I am a motorcycle.

FRIDAY

Like a dream upon wakening. Before I open my eyes I lay silently with my eyes closed. I can sense someone around me watching. I hear the waves crashing on the shore. I feel the warm sun beating on me and someone ask aloud, “Is he going to be okay?”

I open my eyes. Resort visitors surround me looking stunned and relieved. A doctor is kneeling next to me his back turned rummaging through his physician bag. I ask him weakly what happened to me? He turns to face me. It’s a motor cycle in a doctors coat.

SATURDAY

I watch the screen as the credits roll and enjoy the only good part of the game. A Thornley song. (Shoooout ouuut to the Canadian readers. Big Wreck fan for life). I haven’t showered or ate in a week. I’ve lost weight. A weak five o’ clock shadow barely and the smell of piss. I must have soiled myself. I eject the disc and shut the PlayStation off. It is a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon on Paradise. The monster slayed – the hex broken- the trance lifted. I place the cursed disc back in its case (still hot to the touch) and I make my way back to the beach where it all began.

I stand at the edge of the water looking into a seemingly endless blue. I toss the case back into the ocean as the water sizzles. A strong gust of air blows off the ocean through my hair. I smile. – Periwinkle

PEE IN THE POOL

It was hard to find anyone that had actually *Played* the game itself but it almost universally was assumed it was terrible. Here are some interactions from my boy, Kyle, Pinkie trying to defend the motorcycle game genre, and me trying to save Heather’s fiancé from a similar fate that found me.

Periwinkle’s Lowing Hanging Fruit Punch Ingredients (In order of how enjoyable.)