Yes indeed, gentlemen. As most of the gaming-inclined among us can attest, Satan decreed back in the nineties that movie tie-in video games will always be huge festering heaps of horseshit (there are a scant few that belie this rule, but we shan’t be pernickety there. Would you contradict the devil himself? You would not. He’s an angry bastard, we’re told).
It being the nineties, he had presumably become disenchanted with the human race by MC Hammer and other such ballaches. There were several shitloads of war going on, which probably pleased Lucifer, but even that couldn’t compensate for the rise of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (Why, Will Smith? Why?). Which, incidentally, is still being shown, via ad nauseum re-runs, on Underworld TV. It’s part of the daily timetable of bastardry that goes on there (to wit: 9am-11am: coerced viewing of four episodes of that shit-tacular sitcom. Vomiting sad, sad tears of salty sadness at the terrible 'humor’ on display will not excuse you. 11:05-12:00: ballsack shaving with a flaming machete. 12:05: Lunch).
But we digress. The most pertinent point here is that a second video game commandment was found somewhere in the dark depths of Satan’s sweaty scrotal-area and thrust upon us poor mortal fleshbags. It reads, heavy equals slow and strong. This depicts all men everywhere. Ladyfolk shall be as weak as a team of ants poking an elephant in the ass with a broken toothpick. But, also, remarkably athletic and evasive. So, y’know, that’s pretty damn fair right there.
Or something to that effect.
This phenomenon has infused fighting games since their inception. In order to achieve some semblance of both variety and balance in play, this weight-related business was adopted. Man-giants garbed in hey, look at my gonads retina-burning loincloths will engage in combat with some manner of skimpily-dressed, scrawny ninja. Can you guess which gender you will oftentimes see fulfilling which role? We rather think you can.
Still, we’ve all encountered that terrifying, emasculating woman with six six packs on her six pack who could surely snap our feeble necks with but a casual glance in our direction (your gym experiences may vary). Why, then, can female characters not brandish an ax the size of King Kong’s dick and lumber about in a cumbersome-yet-deadly fashion? Guys have ventured into the ‘opposite’ role, but their female counterparts are rarely afforded the honor. Hey, madcap toontastic FPS Gotham City Impostors! Why are the ‘burly’ and ‘mighty’ classes for fatass dudes only? WHY?An equally egregious issue, which surely outrages us all with its outrageous outrageous-ness, is gravity-defying boobitude. When nimble ninja lady Taki (pictured above) performs a flurry of high-speed attacks in a goddamn hurry, her speed is not hampered by what appears to be two large sacks of Jell-o and/or angry wolverines affixed to her chest. As logic/gaming/gaming logic asserts, being heavy accounts for both strength and mitigated speed. Anyone that’s ogled a boobtastic lady on a treadmill knows that there’s an alarming conspiracy afoot here.
In summation, we can only conclude that the exaggerated tatas of the Gamingverse are all forged from some enigmatic, low-mass substance. Perhaps it is mined on the moon, in convert military operations. We just don’t know.