Because Americans are addicted to ultra-slaughter, apocalyptic demolition, raunch culture, and corny movie dialogue, here’s the value meal combo game the U.S. public has been clamoring for. So what if they stared at a flickering box while advertisers commanded them to clamor for it. It’s yours for only one tiny payment of $49.99!
That’s right friends, you’ll get strutting females in medieval whore costumes, guns as tall as you, mass blood-flooded murders, city destructions, and masterpieces of modern cut-scene cinema starring a man named Maxwell Cougar. All this packed onto one disc! That’s a $10,000 value, for $10 less than those other 360 games.
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While the gleaming moments of Bullet Witch aren’t worth 10 grand, they’re still blindingly pleasurable. Like running on top of a jet tilting through the clouds while slinging lightning at a leviathan, even as you frantically shotgun gangs of monstrous eyeballs mounting a mindlessly dogged barrage to bore through the plane.
Sadly, you’ll toil through much mediocrity to unveil the awesome. Awesome like summoning a tornado to rip clusters of buildings from the earth and whisking them into the sky. And battling skyscraper ogres till their hearts explode. And telepathically whipping dumpsters, cars, benches, and streetlights at foes, while gigantic-brained floating devils mind-throw all that shit back at you. And a guy named Maxwell Cougar. It’s stunning. But gunning down eternal waves of brain-dead grunts is not, and that’s how most of the game is spent.
These grunts are skilled enough to skin humans and sick enough to drape the flesh from their necks. But their main brain-synapse triggers annoyingness and dumb decisions. There’s eventually some lovely added to this kill-grind when you progress and gain magics - you’ll impale them with fiery skewers and wield wind-blusters to storm-sack the helicopters they like to leap out of. But you don’t obtain these pimpisms soon enough in the roughly eight-hour campaign, leaving you alone with the perpetual gun-noise of your man-sized gun. Ratta-tat-tatta. And a few more tattas.
Then there’s the plot and dialogue built of slipshod slices of shrink-wrapped chemically-orange cheese. Sure, the game opens with a glimmer of relevance: another war in the Middle East in 2008, and you think “wow, that’s a topic of fuming national controversy.” And then a “homicidal virus” ravages the globe, and then the demons come, and the rapture happens, and then blah.
At the end of the world, game characters spout paradigm-flipping philosophy, like “If only the demons hadn’t of come. If only they hadn’t of come!”
So true, so poignant. And so ends the saga of Bullet Witch. If only you hadn’t of come… out so soon. The developers needed more time to stroke you tenderly. Now you’re forever condemned to being on the verge of boo-yah.