Game Feature Posts:

The Weekly WTF: When Super Mario and Super Nazi Penises Collide

I... don’t know. I really, really don’t.

Mario, as we know, is the embodiment of all that is good in the gaming world. What with his merry woohoos and his ceaseless princess rescue-ery, he’s a goodly hero of the highest order. As he cruises through the cheerful, primary colored vistas of the Mushroom Kingdom, rainbows shine out of his asshole and flamboyantly camp unicorns with fancy-ass British names like Hubert-Smythe follow in his wake.

In short, this is family friendly cutesiness taken to a whole new effing level. A level where I’d be shot in the face just for that ‘effing’ in the last sentence there.

Which is all well and good. But sometimes, even the best of us go bad. Y’know, like one of these Disney Channel child stars who become serial cooch-flashers in later life. In Mario’s case, it’s a midlife crisis. With Nazis, giant penises and evil vaginas.

Just for clarification, Super Nazi Penis Cartel Freedom Fighters 3 isn’t an official Nintendo release. What we have here is an odd hack of Super Mario Bros. 3, long regarded as one of the mustached bastard’s best. In its original form, the game was another innocent goomba-stompin’, platform-leapin’ good time. Here, it all got a little more risque.

You can see where they were coming from, I suppose. The thought process and all. The link between Mario and bizarre walking dicks is clear to see, I’m sure. Replacing power-ups with huge collectable condoms? Seems reasonable. Having them turn you into an actual dick upon picking them up? Nothing screwy there.

My only real complaint is Mario’s choice of outfit. He’s either one of those notorious bigoted bastards, or that’s his Pyramid Head Halloween costume. Either way, it’s uncool.

Nevertheless, there’s something brilliantly, awesomely juvenile about this. Apparently, there are few games that aren’t improved by adding as many f-bombs as possible to proceedings. When the main menu offers you the choice between ‘one effer’ or two effer’ mode (single player or co-op), you know you’re onto a good thing.

If nothing else, you don’t get to see Mario’s fireballs replaced by tiny angry swastikas every day. You can blame Cracked for bringing this to our attention.

Forget Call of Duty, Real Men Need the Retro Love: Ikaruga

If you’re well-versed in the gamertastic, you’ll know one thing: Treasure are the masters of effing incredible shooters. Whether it’s cult classic Gunstar Heroes or the balls out, look-at-me-I’m-a-freakish-bird-dude-in-a-spacesuit-with-a-laser madness of Alien Soldier, you can’t argue with this stuff.

These guys have essentially made the genre their bitch. You need a delicate balance of pulsing soundtrack, compelling gameplay, unique hook and/or scoring system, bullets-amundo and a shitstorm of lighting effects to get this right, and these bastards have nailed it.
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The Weekly WTF: The Boobs, Booze and Swearing Sheep of ‘Catherine’

Now, relationship troubles aren’t tackled much by video games. You want bullets flying around your ass and crazy arcade light shows, not some depressed guy whining that his wife hit him with her car again last night. Is that fun? It is not.

But still. Here in the land of the WTF, you never know when the crazy-ass is going to hit you. If Catherine wants to bring us relationship troubles with a crazy-ass twist, you can bet your balls that it’s going to bring us relationship troubles with a crazy-ass twist. All we can do is watch as a sheep repeatedly drops the f-bomb.
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Forget Call of Duty, Real Men Need the Retro Love: Mega Man 2

Oh bollocks. It’s this guy. Buckle up, gentlemen, because Mega Man’s here. These games don’t eff around.

Today, we’re partying like it’s 1988 and celebrating the most significant entry in the series. The one that propelled Mega Man to interstellar superstardom, and got him all the booze, hos and cannon-polishings (possibly from the hos, that’d be more efficient) a tiny blue space-badass could ask for. That’s just how it is in the A list.
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The Weekly WTF: What the Eff is Your Deal, Pyramid Head?

In the survival horror genre, Resident Evil is the daddy. It may have died on its ass in recent installments, eschewing the horror for balls-out shooter ideals (there are more freaking bullets flying around than in the last half hour of Commando, right here), but that’s moot. These mofos practically invented the genre in 1996, and that’s good enough for us.

But there’s another old stalwart of shit-your-pants gaming, which has been lurking about almost as long. Konami’s Silent Hill is a more psychological affair, and its mascot antagonist, Pyramid Head, gives us all kinds of the willies. Let’s grab our spare undercrackers and meet him.
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Forget Call of Duty, Real Men Need the Retro Love: Starfox 64

Happy birthday, N64, you ol’ gray bastard!

Well, yes, if you’re going to be pernickety, we missed the party a bit. The console hit these United States of ours eighteen years ago last Tuesday.

But hey, nuts to birthdays. They’re no big deal. I forgot my wife’s birthday last year, and she forgave me just fine. Well, forgave, divorced, one of the two. I forget. But we’re getting off topic. We’re here today to pay homage to one of the N64‘s finest offerings: Starfox 64.
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The Weekly WTF: ‘Beat ‘Em and Eat ‘Em,’ the Most Porntastic Game You Ever Saw

If you’re a retro-head and/or general old bastard, you might remember Chef. Or Oil Panic. Or Parachute. Or umpteen freaking others. These decrepit Game and Watch titles revolved around one core concept: grabbing things.

Said things, whether they be flecks of oil, cement, low-flying bacon or dudes parachuting into shark infested seas, cannot hit the ground. That way lies shame, doomily doom-y doom, and a GAME OVER screen. This, you don’t want. So get your shit together, and catch your things.
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