At a Glance:To the unfortunate denizens that dwell within the various sim games I play I am a cruel god. In Rollercoaster Tycoon I made ride after ride that launched coasters full of people off the track. In the Sims I removed pool ladders and made children stand outside until they perished. Even in Sim City my towns were the urban equivalent of "Peanuts" character Pigpen; traffic-choked streets seething beneath perpetual clouds of toxic smoke. The only limits of my cruelty are the limits built into each game. It was natural that when I picked up a copy of the recent sauced-up Sims knockoff "Singles: Flirt Up Your Life" I would expose the virtual paramours of this title to as much suffering as the game would allow me. Little did I know how much I would come to regret my Orwellian experiments.
Publisher: Eidos Interactive
The blank canvas on which I would paint."Singles: Flirt Up Your Life" may be vaguely familiar to some of you as "that Sims game with full-frontal nudity". Indeed, "Singles" was made by degenerate freedom-hating Europeans who think things like polygonal flaccid dicks are peachy to show to their 9 year old children. In fact, in parts of Scandinavia the ninth birthday is celebrated by visiting the "genitaal breng onder" or "genital lodge". It is an ice encrusted lodge where the youth is presented with a motionless lineup of nude men and women and must stare at them for five minutes without blinking. This is why Europeans are godless heathens - as if you needed any more reasons.
Somehow, the Department of Homeland Security failed once again and allowed copies of "Singles" to make their way to our fair and faithful shores unbidden. Initially my plan had been to buy up every copy that had snuck into the country and destroy it before it managed to corrupt some poor young child whose future would be better served by painting fences or being beaten insensate with a belt. To truly know the deadliness of the moral poison I had to experience it firsthand, so I installed it on my consecrated computer made from the bones of Saint Bartholomew and sat down to write this cautionary review. Oh, and also torture the hell out of these unsuspecting virtual pieces of Eurotrash.
Once you fire up "Singles" you are allowed to select the two jerks who will be rooming in the apartment together from a very short list of choices. Since the game focuses much more on social and sexual interaction than the Sims did you can read brief and largely pointless biographies to try to match a likely couple and make things easier. I've never been one to take the easy route, and "Singles" features just such an option for people such as me, allowing you to select up to one lesbian and up to one homosexual male named Tom and Pacifica respectively. What could be harder than getting a gay man and a gay woman to fall in love with each other? I would break them of their homosexual indoctrination by the liberal European media if I had to break their bodies in the process!
Ready for occupation by SINNERS!Rather than suffering through the tutorial or one of the prescripted scenarios I dropped Tom and Pacifica into the game's sandbox mode. This gives you a budget of 15,000 dollars and an empty loft apartment to fill with walls, couches, and toilets to your heart's desire. This was all the freedom I needed to begin my effort of healing Tom and Pacifica's deviant pasts.
My first step as saver of souls was to create an atmosphere within the apartment that would encourage Tom and Pacifica's romance to bloom despite their life choices. It was important that I start out encouragingly, as love, when possible, is the greatest source of healing power next to Jesus Christ. I built a wonderful bedroom with all designer furniture, a double bed, and an actual attempt at interior decorating to make the room pleasing to the eye. This room also housed the apartment's only couch and TV, and as every red-blooded American knows the TV is the focal point of the nuclear family. It was my hope that the two would be drawn to the TV and the fine accoutrements like limp-wristed moths to the flame.
To reinforce this I created two smaller bedrooms, with only the most essential furniture of the lowest possible quality. I even went so far as to remove the windows from these bare cells. The bathroom and kitchen were both decently furnished with the sort of things that a Christian would appreciate, although I have to comment on the extreme lack of religious iconography. Wall art doesn't just have to be Andy Warhol explosions of faggotry; it can be gorgeous black velvet renderings of Jesus or a painting of God helping dogs with poker.
In "Singles" you can directly control either of your two roommates and once I got them living in their new home I immediately set them to work tirelessly courting one another. In disbelief I watched as their romance bloomed, even when I had to physically corner Pacifica by urging Tom on, but there was trouble afoot! Without my noticing it both spent so long talking about how much they wanted to give up sin that they became hungry, needed to go to the bathroom, and wanted to rest. I let them go about their routine unmolested and my willingness to not constantly chaperone them led to the first of many "incidents".
Both wanted to use the toilet and the bathtub, back and forth, and both were so focused on these tasks that they just jumped from one to the other. Their shame was understandable, as since man was cast out of the Garden of Eden by Eve's treachery we have felt the nakedness of our bodies, but their predicament was one of failure to reach a compromise. After they spent several hours arguing in the bathroom about which would go first, debating the topic until they were both nearly exhausted, I intervened and ordered Tom to the kitchen.
By exerting my power over them I was able to force Pacifica and Tom to briefly watch a movie together.Pacifica seized the opportunity to relieve herself and then settled in to a relaxing bath and hopefully a silent prayer for guidance. Understandably, I found myself so seduced by Pacifica's pert and un-Christian breasts that I neglected to notice Tom creeping back into the bathroom. Once inside he loomed ominously over Pacifica, hatred in his eyes and shame on his face. After Pacifica completed her two hour bath she skulked away, horrified by Tom's lack of civility, and allowed Tom to use the bathroom.
While Tom bathed an idea struck me; if I control them absolutely I could force them to accept each other's naked forms. I resolved to do just that as Tom emerged, wrapped himself in a towel, and dashed to the bedroom to dress in his completely unacceptable sailor suit. I stripped both of them naked and ordered them onto the couch facing the television. I selected a "romantic movie" in the hopes that the wholesome vibes of romantic television might allow them to overlook or even enjoy one another's nudity. Instead both became uncomfortable after only an hour or so and leapt up from the couch to dress in more modest attire.
Saturday had not gone well and it was fast becoming clear to me that an easy hand would not work with this obstinate duo. I was willing to give them the Sabbath before the work week started to resolve their differences and become romantically involved. For the final day of their freedom I would take as little role as possible in their daily routine. While they fumbled about largely ignoring each other I was already considering what I would do to the apartment while they were at work on Monday. Pacifica went to bed first, so shaken by her bad relationship that she actually sucked her thumb in her sleep, while Tom dined alone in the lightless kitchen before retiring.
Yes, it's the perfect form for surviving a car crash. But it's also the perfect form for so much more, like surviving the trauma of reading any news headline in 2016.
It's just a little confusing, is all.
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