Super Crate Box Review
Vlambeer (2010)
In this world, where assholes run amok, mere survival should be achievement enough.
Yet what measures a man, touts the Dutch prophet, Vlambeer, “is not how long a man lasts; it is how many crates he has amassed.”
How shall we, as humble, independent men, made of straight lines and rigid corners, distinguish between an ally and an enemy, in this proportioned yet frenzied life?
Super Crate Box’s villains, it is written, shall reveal themselves, “not through their skin tone, nor by their habitat, but with their deviant lifestyle.”
“’Tis the squares,” Vlambeer says, “who show no interest in chasing crates who art thy enemy.”
“These evildoers number equally, among our community’s construction sites, inside our city’s factories, and even, within our holy temples.”
“These assholes,” Vlambeer insists, “must never be ignored, lest they be allowed to grow, both in size, and in redness. Assholes, my brethren, must be fatally stabbed, exploded or shot on sight, lest they be permitted to bleed themselves into hysteria.”
In the scriptures, a 30-crate man played life safely, trudging through the same steel and concrete environments, forever engrossed by his toys, ignoring all the assholes around him, wiping out only an unfortunate few, who were casualties of his careless crossfire.
“Despite his believed leisure, this 30-crate man,” Vlambeer propounds, “lived not even a third as well as the man with 115 crates, who efficiently navigated each day’s maze, wasting neither steps nor bullets, exterminating only the assholes who threatened bodily harm or blocked the bloody road to his next crate.”
“On no leaderboard, ever, will you find a man content with just one crate,” the prophet contests. “If that crate housed the most divine object on Earth, say a bazooka or a chaingun, even then, scores of men would willingly trade it away, just to end the next crate’s insufferable mystery.”
Thus, cube-shaped men are drawn to crates, like pests towards street lights, zipping ’round the darkness, from one beam to the next, ’til tired pursuit brings painless death.
Platforms: PC, Mac, PlayStation Vita, Ouya, iOS, Commodore 64
Rude Owls 