Yandere Sim Review

Featuring Gripewater

Give her a voice:

Everybody clap your hands and face your asses to the Sun Gods, because Rev from Vinesauce made me do it. What can I say, a man has his guilty pleasures, and he feels a little guilty. The man plays Boat-o-Cross for 24 hours straight and he wants to kill some schoolgirls? Why the fuck not. Better join that bandwagon quick, because it deflates as soon as the next fad comes across (YouTuber's Life? Have I dated this article fifty words in?).

"What a meme" I thought to myself, sipping on some distinguished cranberry juice with a chaser of microwaved panini. "If this is not as bad as I have made it out to be, then perhaps it is worth as much as a go as some other poor decisions I've executed". And as I sat there in my comfy chair munching on some comfy noodles, I booted up qBit and let the tracker tear it up. "Blood Money with tits" I thought to myself. What a prospect. "It's everything I could have wanted".

It is a shame though that I have not progressed farther than the first floor, as having played the game my computer promptly barfed at code so poorly optimised it would make most emulators run in fear, and for graphics that could have been ripped from a Gamecube I don't know why it got sick at all. That's the problem with computers. It can perform miracles so long as you don't put in a while (1) in the magic, and if you do, God help you. The problem with developers? They know to not do that, but anything more complicated than that and they wave their heads in the and slap their hands on their asses because coding is complicated and "optimisation" is a bitchword to them. May Yandere Sim rest in peace on the graveyard of games that had one chance to impress me and then bit its own toes off.

That's enough unwarranted Achewood for now, with severed toes in kinky boots slamming the gas petal off a cliff, along with the rest of the car, being arbitrary silliness. Today we're describing Yandere Simulator, and the next day, and the next day, because there is no rest for those who look at "Yandere Simulator" and think to themselves "This looks like a game for me". Blood Money with tits was a tall tale from the start, and sad to see the tits were not as tall, I am resigned to being a writer.

The story thus spake:

I procured the files off Kickass like a good little boy praying for some firewood, as I had a passion I had to spread at the cost of virtual murder and other such abuses. You open up the folder with great expectations, and inside you see a little heart-shaped box all in pink, a grim reminder of the red heart with no background which spread like maggots through the eyes of the Web. Expectations were shattered like frozen money in a boiling mountain, and though I spent none on it, I shudder to think what would happen if I saw green shatter before my eyes, greeted with a pink flash, and a redrum picturesque memory of something I thought I'd never see. Toby Fox is the Telltale Heart, and his heart beats for me. God Bless him, so that he may go to Heaven early and be otherworldy.

Click on it, and as to what you will see I do not remember one bit of. Will it be the disclaimer saying "These girls are over eighteen", because you could not expose such in your story and are too lazy to implement such a thing? Will it be the twelve studios who worked on this game, because one isn't enough to give it a release, and twelve will reverse time by slowing down the release date until the inevitable compromise of "good enough", confining your game to mediocrity Hell? Will it be the Unity graphics menu reminding you that a good game cannot be spread over a fifty-kilometre desert of sand and corpses, on a geological engine rough as the bones you step on? It's decrepit, Ms. Sim. That the name we call things which are past their time, a Unity of software banded together in the agreement that even the simplest of games cannot be made without a flash-freeze, and that it is better to have a nascent Godsend than it is to have faulty stability.

The menu. The main menu. Here comes the lag. It's bad, Luigi. Why do you lag on the main menu? Am I punished for wanting to game? Are we all gamers, stuck in the Gamer Hell with our Gamer Shoes and our Gamer Sweatshirts we got at the Gamer Hell Duty-Free Shop? This is not game, Sim! This is madness! Does God live in Heaven because He too fears our inability to use sprites? Is Lucifer a live render, for what may have been replaced by mortals and their pre-renders? No. Because Lucifer would have eased us in to Gamer Hell, while we dance the life dance and wait for Death to embrace our tired legs, we understand that we brought this lag onto ourselves, and that neither the promise of a decent framerate nor a developer that understands that, that bitchword, "optimisations", would have eased the shock when we wake up outside that duty-free shop with a bundle of funny money and a ration for a free bag of Doritos. Cool Ranch. Ironic.

My fingers have withered from years of Runescape, but we are as far from Knights as we are from Templar. Here comes a strapping gentleman. My senpai. I made him look like a douche. This lady - I didn't care for her. I made her look like the most beautiful lass you'd ever see. The type of lass you'd see riding your cock in a wet dream, better than horses, and much better than an eeveelution. That's lovely, you see. I'd never get a girl like that, and so I developed her to express that sentiment. It was only then that I realised that I was her, and this douche was my love. This douche that I crafted in my own image, and I'm stuck in a power fantasy with myself, playing a three-mast vessel sailing on a sea of meta. There is proof of a higher power in this world, and though He is not on my side, he cares enough to make me see a point of view outside my own. I guess I better thank this lady. I'm her.

A cutscene. Well... I guess this is one time to use them. But it's awful. There's no video, and what passes for video is the colours you'd use to entertain an infant with. Sometimes it's black. Sometimes it's red. Sometimes its pink. The symbols of bacne, and the baby laughs at them. Is this what we are all meant to be entertained with? Moving colours, sometimes with simple shapes spread out on the screen? Disney promised me this scam a few years ago - Baby Einstein, vintage 1997 (sipped through a cork that couldn't plug a schoolgirl's piss), and it was a good year to be a crack baby on crack for babies. I thought I was better than being two and watching such pretty colours on a big screen TV, but the little screen is good too. Who could complain if breasts are breasts no matter the size? Who can complain if you ruin a childhood at any age and through whatever medium you desire? I guess that's an answer for babies, but I'm the audience that never grew up.

Fitting now that the baby giggles for what subsitutes both dialogue and acting in the scenes to come. This lady has all the emotion of a baby sperg, and the dialogue has the artistry of a soiled sandwich wrapper. Riveting dialogue such as "I knew no emotion". It's great to see that we don't need to get attached to our flat characters - it makes the uninstall much less painful. "...until I met senpai", and you're going to use that against him for the rest of your life as you act out your matricidal desires. Domestic abuse in a closed box. I thought The Sims had that covered. What else is there to say that our actress hasn't droned on while chewing a wasp?

The plot thicken (chicken). A girl texts me, and this bitch has my number? What the fuck? I'm not even on Facebook and this looking-ass cherry-picking sack of white trash is already proposing that I take creepshots of girls's panties? I wouldn't even post that shit on Reddit. Thanks for breaking me out of my high, asshole. I was on a great writing streak too, and then you came along and fucked it all up. Christ almighty was my flow broken worse than a trickle into a tampon. I get the feeling this game was written from prison, much like some other famous novels.

And then the theatrics are over, and we are stuck in the gameplay.

"the gameplay" - Froghand 2016

So far as I could tell there was none. I was inside the school and outside the parking lot. A gun shop must have set up, sold all their guns, then left, because there were five knives on the ground to the east of my spawn. Knives aren't popular at a gun shop. They just left 'em there. Never mind procuring them. It's like if Agent 47 could take a drop off at the Klaceon shop and ask for a Krieg, which reminds me of three different video games I could have been playing instead of this one. I guess immersion isn't the order of the day, because going a few minutes without saying "This is game. Welcome to game." might endear giving our audience some credit in exploring the landscape and finding our own fucking knives. Didn't even need a metaphorical gun shop if you'd give us some reason as to why there might be one.

I pressed the question mark on my keyboard and it brought up the meme menu. I call it that because it features memes, and I was so shocked I press "e", in hope that years of Half-Life conditioning me that "e" brought good things would pay off in an alternate universe. I turned into Ebola-chan instead. Fucking incredible. She was tasteless when she was created and she's a cringefest to this day, a reminder that there is nothing that 4chan culture hasn't penetrated worse than a wound. The menu informed me that I had to restart the entire day in order to get rid of this white-skinned hussie, so I can imagine some eight-year-old shitting themselves not knowing what hellspawn they created, their only salvation coming from the panicked keyboard smashing typical of a Russian League of Legends player. Tilde restarts, not that you ever needed to know.

I opened the meme menu and found myself amused at these different outfits. One of them was Not Important from Hatred (happy that he wasn't called Hatred Guy, because that disgraces the reputations of Doom Guy and Quake Guy), from a game which everybody laughed at in June 2015 and was then forgotten about. This dates your game worse than a reference to YouTuber's Life, but I guess making a game called "Yandere Simulation" means that you don't care about being timeless. I liked the touch though - brooding model, grey screen, 10fps, a katana in hand. I tried to kill a teacher, but she caught my punch, and then tackled me to the ground. She caught my punch, with a sword in my hand. I didn't realise I was in Israel. I got expelled.

I guess the developers realised that was a big "fuck you", so that provides some justification as to why you put the sword five feet from the spawn in plain sight in what's supposed to be Blood Money with tits, though solving a problem with another problem is how the United States invaded Vietnam. Perhaps it would be an easier contraceptive to swallow if your models were physically distinct from the other students, and not just through clothing and hairstyle, as to phone in character design is a costly, costly mistake to make in art style. I wonder how many people are drawing fan art of the Call of Duty series? I don't think I've ever seen a single dick pic of a COD character. What a wash. Come to think of it, neithr have I with Doom characters. Don't send me links - this is one discovery I have to find for myself.

It was at this point that I realised I could move my mouse, and as such discovered it was far too high of a sensitivity to my tastes. I also realised I could use it as an automatic upskirt device. Fascinating, though I didn't get a hard-on because giving me instant gratification like that doesn't make the entire endeavour worth it. I'm the type of guy to watch the entire porno before making cheese, because you gotta leave something to the imagination. That's why you gotta watch the steam-covered nipples version of hentai, because to see the entire nipple is a one-way train ticket to Erectile Dysfunction. How are you going to go to Heaven and explain to God how you can't get your jimmy up? Trick question - there is no God, and we're already in Hell. Sorry to bring that up, junior.

After a quick trip to meme country, and the other outfits within (including an Agent 47 suit and bald cap, which gave me some hope that the developers knew what they were doing but then lost it when I realised that I couldn't get a gun), I understood that this wasn't a game I wasn't going to have fun with. If that was the point, I would have not cared, as I can forgive boring gameplay if the story is interesting. I guess that's one of the virtues of having no story: you can focus on the exciting engine optimisations to make the gameplay better for your customers.

Conclusions:

*Spent more time writing the article than I did playing the game.

*Made me pick out panties.

*Taught me that writing reviews are worthless unless there has been a great deal of time passed between the release of the media and the day the author decided to give an opinion on it, because to do so otherwise is to colour your intelligence with the opinions of people who seek out the new and the novel instead of the good, causing you to look over details that become obvious and painful in hindsight so that you don't look like a twat and embarass yourself in front of people who don't give a single shit about a medium as an art form (games, television, cartoons, anime, et cetera) and just want another distraction from the grave so they can justify their lives as somebody who is at least trying to respect a medium by viewing as much of it as they possibly can in it without learning about the actual effort that goes into the development of the piece, causing your own writing to suffer by pandering to this lowest-common-demoninator by forcing you to dumb down your opinions so that they can further deliberate what they want to sink twenty dollars and ten hours of their life into - time that the could use for literally anything else.

*Might have been racist towards Japan

*Voice actress had bad enunciation.

Final score: Three out of ten dollars, for the approximate cost of my graphics card.

The forever beta, Froghand.

Today's page was updated on June 13, 2016!

Made me cum - IGN.