Zack has stepped up to the plate and provided our wonderful, five-star site (out of a possible 982 stars) with a review of the ever-so-cruddy Genesis game, Caliber .50.
In a desperate move to stop the attack of Blonde Guy, Far East has signed away its collective soul to some sort of dark god so that they could enlist the help of three very predictable freakish baboons that throw skulls at you. After dispatching the baboons with some difficulty I proceeded back to the surface, the menace of helicopter attacks left behind and replaced with screen-freezing swarms of bazooka bullets and snipers. This level is a barren desert wasteland strewn with cow skeletons; an ominous sign of things to come. I managed to blast my way through the unending hordes of troops and into a desert canyon full of skeletons. It smelled like an ambush.
I used to play this game all the time at the Ward Parkway mall near Kansas City. I didn't play the game because I liked it, mind you, but because it was the only arcade machine there that didn't cost nine dollars a minute to play or have a 15-person waiting line. Nobody ever played Caliber .50. It was the arcade machine of the damned, the leper who had been cast aside and forced to stand in the back of the room next to the broken skee-ball machine and the sealed up emergency exit door. Of course I probably shouldn't expect much from a game that attempts to simulate the Vietnam War by pitting you against giant monkeys and rotating turtles, but I guess that goes with the territory. The really weird and creepy territory. Head on over now and see what you are missing - for a damn good reason.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This is the crown jewel of my erotic lamp collection, and a must-have for any serious pleasure lamp collector.
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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