Because I am the most cheerless of cheerless gits, The Typing of the Dead: Overkill’s combination of endlessly mofoing grindhouse satire and straight repetition of what was a great joke ten years ago (i.e. typing as shooting) left me very cold and a little sad. Fun tunnel. Those who found the dual-gag and puerility overkill to be a reliable source of belly laughs have, however, been treated to a steady stream of word pack DLC, so far including Shakespeare, Football Manager and now one that finally coaxes a smile from my pursed lips – the profanity pack, aka Filth of the Dead. Pickled pork sword.
Hairy crevice. Furious penis. Walking talking sphincter. Consider my erection. Such a huge manatee.
(more…)
Continue reading...
