Thursday 16 February 2012

A Poem on the Subject of Poor Game Design

Let's go for a journey through halls and compartments,
till we stumble across a game planning department.
With coffee, long hours and 5am stubble
it seemed this department was heading for trouble.

Escort quests, lives and QTEs were all theirs,
they helped with the N-Gage but that's just splitting hairs.
"We need fresh ideas" the head honcho sighed
but twiddling thumbs was the only reply.

"Perhaps a controller you work with your teeth?"
"But after Kinect that would be a relief!"
"Re-release the same game for the next 25 years?"
"Well now you're just stealing Nintendo's ideas"

"A hooker RPG, surely that would be great?"
"with extensive skill trees on how you fellate"
"you could use Playstation Move to help with the wanking"
"and even add online support for the rankings"

"Why don't we just do a game design sim?"
"Where you work on the behest of your publishers whim"
"Isn't that just the hooker RPG though?"
"but a bit more degrading and with less things to blow"

Off in the corner a quiet voice muttered
"What we need is a game that was spawned from the gutter"
"With controls that appear to have been designed by an ape"
"and a central mechanic that is destined to break"

"Zombies, disease an unending companion"
"surely a game fit to be thrown in a canyon"
"It may even turn out to be a huge hit"
"With scores curious to play the embodiment of shit"

"I love it!" the boss cried what a riveting fable.
One chap was so happy he puked on the table,
another scooped it up and gave a small compliment
as it could be used as their design document.

"Well done lads, that's using your brain"
"Within months this place will be on top again"
"but we need a name and nothing too samey"
"I'm just putting it out their, but I like the name...Amy" 

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