The other day I started a she called Where the Water Tastes Like Wine. You lose a hand of cards to a Wolfman and he turns you into a hobo skeleton tasked with traveling the US to spread folktales. The wolf is voiced by Sting, the whole game pays homage to an idealized peak of Americana, and I’ve never had to decide what button to map “hitchhike” to before.
Creativity is alive and well, flourishing even. This guy is just blaming others for the problems he brings to the table.
OK, but did you pay $600 to have that cabinet in your house and still pumo endless quarters into it?