STICK IT TO THE MAN
now, right now it’s time to STICK OUT THE JAMS, MOTHERFUCKER!
Imagine a party. OK, that’s basic. Right, imagine a party where
Ron Gilbert, Ren, Stimpy, Finn, Jake, ToeJam, Earl, Earthworm Jim,
Sackboy (maybe Sick Boy too) and a psychedelic Kenny Rogers all rock
up, then get seriously Bill and Ted. You might kinda dig where
Stick it to the Man’s at. Man.
We take a trip – and it
is a trip - into the papery brainbox of Ray, a hardhat tester whose bonce
has been bonked a tad too ouchily. He’s woken to a sort of inverted
brain slug situation, all pastafarian with a lengthy pink spaghetti
arm stretching from his noggin. It’s not any old, lengthy pink
spaghetti arm stretching from his noggin though, oh no, this one
allows him to read others’ thoughts, accumulate stickers and get
around via pins. Ray’s
case for being considered in possession of anything vaguely
resembling sanity is hampered somewhat by the fact that nobody –
save for he (and us) - can actually see this rosy durum
Whoever has controller in
hand for this WTF?-laden classic adventurer-meets-platformer guides Ray through his bidding, reading minds, snatching stickers and
slapping stickers, giving everybody what they want while also employing
bonus puzzle nous to avoid The Man’s dicks. Erm, that’s in
the detective sense.
don’t. But that’d be a shame (about Ray), for they’d then miss out
on much slickly-presented aceness, with a funky Banksy-goes-South
Park-Canadian art style and voice stuff that tantalisingly
borders on lunacy.
Ray’s noggin is all messed up, so you’ll
have to use yours. No need for garlic shampoo, SittM’s
worth getting all protopunk “Where is my mind?” over.