IF Comp ’09 – Red conine’s The Hangover!

October 6, 2009

The Hangover is the story of you. You awake in your apartment with an unknown women and your bank informing you that you changed your name last night. The goal? Get the approval form in triplicate to get the name on your debit card changed!

I knew it was only a matter of time before my bank opened a branch in my apartment.  That would have been really convenient like five years ago, before I started doing all my banking online.

Also, I really want a t-shirt now with a little cartoon Jesus holding a Bible and speech-ballooning “This is the story of me!”  Oh, wait, maybe I mean a cartoon whale and a copy of Moby Dick?

Also also, what the hell is a conine?  Oh, it’s a poisonous alkaloid occuring in hemlock, according to the 1911 edition of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, which did not apparently give two shits about readability for the layman.  “Whilst the benzoyl derivative is oxidized by potassium permanganate to benzoyl-a-aminovaleric acid” my Aunt Fanny.

Mostly Spoiler-Free Upshot: Yeeeeah.  This game is not very good, and it’s not even not very good in new and interesting ways.  It’s your garden-variety badly-written typo-laden untested underimplemented poorly-thought-out terrible horrible not-very-good game.  I can’t even get excited about being mean to it.  My hope is that the author is simply too young to have developed a taste level, and will eventually get better.

[spoilers begin here]

Oh, man, this thing is ADRIFT 3.9, which means it’s likely to give me lip.  I wonder if the intro was cut off or if there just isn’t one?

No fewer than three typos in the first room’s description.  Good sign!

Your bath robe.  You actually wear this?  Why, this is so wretched George Carlin would faint.

…my God that’s a toilet!  I couldn’t tell.  You might want to look at your sink.  Your proud of this?
Well, great, not only am I hung over, but my life is being narrated by my mother.  Today is gonna suck.

Huh, it wouldn’t let me take my toothbrush until I’d looked at my sink.

> brush teeth
What you typed doesn’t work.
And neither do you, you lazy bum.  Get a job already.  Maybe if you were a doctor like your brother you’d be too busy saving lives to go out and get drunk every night.  You want to end up like Uncle Roger?

> use toothbrush
I don’t understand what you want me to do with your toothbrush.
But I’m sure it’s disgusting.  You are sick.

Okay, fine, I won’t brush my teeth.  Are you happy, Ma?  Are you enjoying not letting me brush my teeth?  I’ll try not to blame you when they rot through and fall out of my head, is that what you want?  Is that what you want for your son, Ma?

You have a TV and a couch as well… and a women is sleeping on the couch.  How the hell did someone like you pull that off?
Clearly I’m not that much of a stud, though, or she’d be sleeping in my bed.

> x woman
Nothing special.
She must’ve been cuter when I was drunk.

> x women
The mysterious women on your couch.  She seems to be in a very deep slumber.
What do we think, audience?  Is it conjoined twins or multiple personality disorder?

How do I wake this women up?  I don’t have many options in this little clicky menu deal… hmm, despite being in a deep slumber, she manages to avoid my feeble attempts to hit her.  Maybe I should give her something?

> shake women
You shake, but nothing happens.
> touch women
You can’t touch that.
take women
I don’t think The the girl would appreciate being handled.
> x girl
You cannot see Secretary from here.
Yeah, I’m starting to think maybe this game isn’t going to be very good.

Okay, screw the women on my couch.  I’m going to leave her alone with my valuables and go outside for no reason.

I’m not sure banks actually keep a record of whether or not you’ve changed your name with the government.  Also, where do you get your name legally changed during prime being-very-drunk hours, the all-night government office and donuts?

Hey, you said the bus stop was to the east, but it was really to the west!  Are you lying to me?

This is the bus stop.  This is the real slum.  There are more posters all over the bench, the sidewalk is wet and slimey, and there seems to be a bench.  The sun continues to make your headache worse.  To the east is Fredrick Avenue.  To the west is Tennant Street.  There is a bum on the bench.  You should really get him off the bench.  The bum is here.
I typed out this entire paragraph just to give you a sense of how bad the writing in this game is.  Also, there is a paragraph here.  The writing in this game is terrible.  There is some writing.

Yeeeeeah.  I’m just gonna read the walkthrough.  Wow, the walkthrough’s sort of entertaining, actually.  “DO NOT FEED THE DOG THE FRENCH FRIES!  They will kill the dog!”

Ask platypus about approval noteHe will tell he will not give you the approval form in triplicate because it wouldn’t be any fun.
You will find yourself in a utility tunnel.  Nothing is here.  Go north.  Go noth again.
Now your in a pyscho hospital room and the door was a false wall (one-way false wall).
He also tells you what happened last night.  The platypus married you and Zoey Ferdinand (the women) last night while both of you were drunk.  The game is over.  You Win.
I Win indeed.


One comment

  1. > screw the women on my couch
    I don’t think The the girl would appreciate being handled.

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