Prey

Over the course of Prey’s portal jumping, dimension-hopping alien murdering escapades, we saw some truly repugnant shit. Our girlfriend turning into an amalgamation of sexy woman parts and horrendous alien limbs. Watching our dear old grandpa get torn to pieces. But nothing compares to the truly horrendous sight that befalls Tommy’s eyeballs within the first thirty seconds of the game.

Show us loved ones getting brutally slaughtered and we’re cold, detached husks of human beings. Show us a toilet pan after it’s just been assaulted by someone with a bad case of bleeding haemorrhoids and we’re blubbering, inconsolable babies.
Fallout 3
The computerised cans in Fallout 3 really are an offense to virtual asses everywhere. Grimy and dilapidated, they’re the type of toilets that make you have an accident while trying to hold on until you get home. Even worse, they’re filled with irradiated water, which Fallout’s reluctant hero often has to drink from. Now that’s the sign of a bad toilet: severe radiation poisoning with a big dollop of cancer to look forward to after you’ve wiped your ass.
BioShock

The underwater ruined metropolis of Rapture simply isn’t the place to be for the can enthusiast. Waterlogged, crumbling apart and with an unerring tendency of hiding homicidal drug addicts in their cubicles BioShock’s toilets are a nightmarish hellhole for all good patrons of the numbers one and two. They’re not all bad, mind. Some even hold money and rare collectable audio tapes (especially useful for those epic aquatic squats on the pan).
Indigo Prophecy/Fahrenheit

Ah, the humble commode. It’s the perfect place to read a paper in peace, collect one’s thoughts or get possessed and then stab up an innocent fellow toilet-dweller. Aside from being a bit grotty and having a floor covered in toilet roll, we genuinely wouldn’t mind using this toilet. Well, provided we were packing a semi automatic rifle, a bullet/stab proof vest and digits trained in QTE ninjary.
Aliens versus Predator

The life of a Weyland-Yutani marine is a tough one. Suicidal missions. Low pay. Impromptu face buggerings from spidery alien things. Working for Evil Incorporate clearly doesn’t have many benefits, but surely the least they could provide is toilets that won’t give you a festering, communicable disease when you squat down to squeeze one out mid bug-hunt. Faced with the prospect of using such an abysmal crapper, we’d as soon run up to a Rastafarian alien for a good skinning.
Oct 16, 2009
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