Gaming’s Whacked-Out Week: Boobtacular Women And Ultra Violence, You Need Only Supply the Beer

Not in the manner of the Seventh Horror Movie Commandment, which proclaims, ‘The young woman with the pleasingly swollen chesticles shaltalwaysbe cleft in twain in a blood-bleeding pool of viscera on the carpet after a half hour or so. She will emit ghastly falsetto screechings and have general mixed feelings about the whole situation. Prior to that, though, we'll probably behold some gratuitous unfettering of the orbs. So, y'know, that's cool. Still, best grab a mop. That bastard will the scythe left onemotherof a mess on my linoleum.'

In summation, not like that in any fathomable sense. Instead, our succinct summary of the week's gaming news encompasses: The sad plight of the convention booth babes we know and gleefully ogle, a sadistic round-up of the many gore-infused deaths of Resident Evil 6 and the most shit-tastic video game commercial ever conceived; presumably courtesy of two drunken toddlers in a small shack. Lunacy awaits your ravening vision-glands in the gallery.

Hit Kotaku for more on the decline of the Booth Babe.

IGN provides the unholy 'Death Montage.'

And Sony's singular shenanigans to promote Box! Open Me can be found here.