In Love (With a Game)

 Hi.

I’m gay, and I like gaming. But I’m not a gaymer. Gaymers give the impression you’re chained to the chair — blue hair, an uncomfortable obsession with anthropomorphic cartoon animals. Those in the know will know exactly what I mean. I’m not one — if I was, this’d be littered with ‘uwus’ and ‘<3’s.

So — I fell in love. With a game. I played it first in 2018, on release day — October 26, 2018. Red Dead Redemption II. I was thirteen, yes. But I was five when the first game came out — and I played it (with the volume down — like shooting a load of outlaws was still okay for a child).

Red Dead Redemption II is a prequel. It takes place in 1899 at the tail end of the Wild West — 14 years after a DeLorean fell off a bridge. It follows a fictional gang called the Van der Linde Gang — filled with feisty women, rowdy outlaws, and a tyrannical leader who made Rishi seem sane.

It followed a hunky guy called Arthur Morgan. Hmm. Yes. Sorry — I was distracted. Arthur Morgan — in his brown leather jacket and blue shirt — witnesses, in real time, the downfall of the Wild West.

It’s better than the westerns. It’s better than GTA. You kill a man in that game, and your honour will go down. You turn into a hardened, heartless scumbag. But if you play it right — morally right — you get the best story since The Hobbit. Then you move to the first game and — wow.

If you have a billion squillion dillion pounds to flush, you can buy it here.

If not — savour it here and here.

See you!
Bye!