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Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn son. His noggin's bigger than his scientifically enhanced world.
Hey, don't look at me! I refuse to switch to mechanical pencils.
Mine, too.
What were they thinking? The face, the hair, the car, that...name. And why is the R so special? Aren't flag wavers suppose to be hot chicks? No wonder this cover has fail written all over it.
"Mommy mommy! I brought some art supplies home from school and they came alive! The paint palette grew an arm out of it's chin and burst out of the schoolhouse roof along with the arcade cabinet, Mr. Slithers, a dresser that grew a pair of lips and was looking at me with such a lust-" "Honey, that's enough. You're going to make a great cover designer some day. In the meantime, lay off the pot."
I'm assuming Giana the first went and ate Giana the second after tripping on all those mushrooms. Also, titties? Really? Way to appeal to fake-women lovers who also can stand Super Mario Bros. rip-offs. Go lobster fights!
Where there are monkeys, there are bowls of fruit without bananas in them. Where there are bowls of fruit without bananas in them, there are creepy, rosy-cheeked kids clutching their nets not that far away. And where there are creepy, rosy-cheeked kids clutching their nets, there are gorillas in tutus lurking a breath away, staring on in passion.
Play as a young Andrew Dice Clay, the years before he dyed his hair. Even his toys wanted him taken down. Jerk.
If playing as a turtle didn't hurt this game enough, the look on the turtle's face certainly does. Look at that sucker slowly stick his arm out, knowing damn well that piece of molasses will never get there on time. Stay tuned for the next installment of the Simulation series- Field Track: Simulation starring the fastest slugs you'll ever know!
Where does one begin to describe how ludicrous this title is? You don't. You simply don't. It's a ridiculously hyped up anime/game/card duel/spit swapper/whatever. The box speaks for itself.