Hi, Iâm Robert Brockway from the Internet. You may know me from my time at Cracked.com, an affiliate store website that also once published comedy. I wrote a series called âChoose Your Own Drug-Fueled Misadventure,â that the creators of Choose Your Own Adventure Books once called âpotentially damaging to the brandâ and âabsolutely copyright infringement.â
These stunning pieces of interactive fiction were unique in that they were just text and did not actually work as pieces of interactive fiction. It was a bold spin on the medium born out of anxiety-driven lockjaw and a poor understanding of how websites work. Now, many years and several firings after the fact, Iâve decided to make up for it by learning to code extremely basic HTML games just to give you this – the Choose Your Own Drug-Fueled Misadventure Remasters!
Each installment has been edited for gooder language, better jokes, whole new sections and yes — theyâre actually playable!
The first episode is a rework of The Spy Who Huffed Me, now with the far more accurate title, Fuck This Blurry Arcade.
What? Are you trying to âturnâ the internet? Thereâs no page 56. Just like… go look at the thing, then leave. God damn.
…
This article was brought to you by our fine patron and Hot Dog Supreme: Mike Stiles, on whom the story “The Robot Who Fell in Love with Mike” was based.
Greetings Hot Dogs, please light the SOMBER INTROSPECTION AND GENITAL ENLARGEMENT incense that I know you all bought from the Olde 1900HOTDOG Catalogue for Healthe, Wellnesse, and Amateur Crime-fightinge. Yes, it is once again time for Reflecting Day, and I will be your host. I am a 7th Dan Relaxation Black Belt, and I donât mean to brag, but every time I go navel-gazing I find my navel almost immediately.
1900HOTDOG is doing great! 1900HOTDOG is shattering expectations! 1900HOTDOG is an immortal dynasty that will endure for millenia, crushing all those who oppose it. Now, maybe it doesnât quite pay all the bills of two grown men with consuming fetishes for obscure media, but itâs getting there. For example, Iâm moving from Arizona to Connecticut for family reasons, and not at all because this fascist state does not believe that concealed carry laws apply to functional naval cannons. I bring that up mostly to get you to join my class action lawsuit (Capân Brockway and the Brocketeers v. Funtastickâs Fun Center Cactus Springs Water Play Attraction, 2019). But also because this site now constitutes the bulk of my income, and I had to explain that to prospective landlords.
It did not go well.
First I had to explain Patreon itself, which I pitched as âlike a magazine, but by whoever and about everything.â Then I had to explain the Patreon for my fiction writing, which I pitched as âa monthly subscription to my exact bullshit.â Then I had to explain 1900HOTDOG, which I pitched as ânews and human interestâ and then outright refused to answer followup questions. The world may not yet recognize Hot Doggery as a valid form of employment, but itâs getting there. And we love you guys for making that happen.
Weâve come a long way! For example, I started off here being very bad at Photoshop. The first Brockwayâs Magical Girl Hole was announced with nothing but bolded text. For the second installment I made this whole banner all by myself:
So now Iâm only pretty bad at Photoshop! Thatâs progress, and Iâm proud of it. I owe that in no small part to my own dogged persistence. Nearly every day I sit down and watch a tutorial about how to Photoshop a laser dong on a battlemech rather than do something easier, and risk sacrificing my own artistic vision. That is what it means to art. But uh⌠okay I also owe some of that progress to Seanbaby, who makes custom Photoshops just to teach me how to do custom Photoshops:
I think he might be flexing on me with this, but itâs hard to tell what with all his constant normal flexing.
As we talked about last Reflecting Day, weâve moved our bonus days up into the weekly rotation. This was supposed to give us more time — to do our other jobs, to take the weekends off, maybe to do some vitally necessary promotion for once. Instead it looks like weâre just spending that time writing more involved and longer articles, because we have a crippling addiction to dick jokes about strange media and nobody will help us. Theyâre just laughing as we die beneath stacks of Oxycise VHS tapes!
We did a backflip over the internet and then strangled it with a jump-rope during our first themed week, honoring the majesty of Jackie Chanâs Rumble in the Bronx. The second episode of our podcast (a two-parter!) released that week as well, and wouldnât you know it? It was also about Rumble in the Bronx. As all things are now. As they should have been all along. Please subscribe to it here, and review it here, or wherever you get your podcasts. Poddington? Castworthâs? I prefer Pudcast, but you do you.
Weâve picked up a few Hot Dog Supremes since our last Reflecting Day, so please give a steamy welcome to…
Zachary Evans, who fills every room with his boisterous spirit, and also bees.
Yossarian, who will burn this place to the ground unless they change the Sonic movie back.
Josh S, who appears whenever you whisper âBeefbodâ six times while looking in a mirror.
Each of you now have to stand up in front of the blackboard and say one interesting thing about yourselves.
If you want your very own custom title, if you want it to be called out in a Reflecting Day, if you want articles dedicated just to you, if you want to be personally thanked on our podcast, if you want to secure a place in our site credits and, oh yeah — get twice-yearly deliveries of extremely cursed items from Seanbabyâs own extremely cursed library, maybe you want to be a Hot Dot Supreme. Honestly, have you even tried it? Then how can you say you wouldnât love it? Holy shit, I just invented an unbeatable argument!
Our next site goal is a little ways off, but itâs a big one: The PoxCo store! Actual, physical merch. For the first few weeks of this site I kept an exhaustive list of every single joke we made that could, theoretically, be a piece of sellable merchandise. Then I stopped doing that, mostly because I realized the fans would tell us what merch they really wanted, and also mostly, perhaps more mostly, because I forgot.
And, of course, we couldnât be aiming for a new goal if we didnât hit the last one. It was a big ask. It was a major milestone for our site. It was perhaps the most important change we could have made to ensure the safety and sanctity of our work. We finally hit our $7000 goal and you know what that means: Itâs time to fire Topper!
W-what? Youâre happy about being fired?
You canât enjoy this, Topper. It can not be this way. It must not be this way!
Topper, youâre â just give me a minute, okay? I had a whole thing prepared for this. I hired a bunch of burly men who do dick puppetry to spell out âGuess whoâs fucking fired! Is it Gary from Accounting? Is it Meredith from HR? Surely it canât be Mordisse, everyoneâs favorite Eastern European night janitor who is suspiciously adamant that he is not a vampire. No! Itâs fucking Topper fucking Goodmeadow!â in the shapes of twisted cocks.
Topper, I hired like 140 guys for this. Youâre bankrupting an industry. Just wait. Just one second. Get away from that door. You canât go! I havenât even said the words. Dammit! Topper, youâre fired! I fire thee!
Video games are just a normal thing people do now in between pornography and sleep, and itâs great. But Gamers, as a culture, are still pretty vile. They have a lot of problems with women. And minorities. And trans people. And other gamers. They basically absorbed all the worst parts of hate groups, but in a laughably ridiculous way, like Kirby devouring a bigot and then putting on his adorable little Klan hood. Weâre here to focus on the misogyny today, specifically in the fetishization of girls in fighting games, because it is crazy that so many nerds want to pummel something every bit as much as they want to fuck it.
Hi, I accidentally spilled Punching Day in my Fucking Day and now it looks very Upsetting Day, but Iâm going to drink it anyway.
Haha Topper, I honestly forget you exist every single week.
That is a great outlook, Topper! Could it be that youâre-
Guzzle dicks, Topper.
Letâs get started. This is an actual ad for Tekken 6:
While this is oddly entrancing and definitely art, you may have noticed they forgot to even mention that itâs for a videogame. No seriously, they seem downright reluctant to mention their own product in this advertisement for that product:
Viral Girl Fight Spot is perhaps not the best way to phrase it. Or actually, you know what? Yes it is. Viral Girl Fight Spot is both my favorite bar and my patented sex move. Itâs also just one full minute of damp women wrestling in underwear, which again, is not something I hate… but also is not something I would pay $60 to simulate a PG-rated version of. Not when I could pay $0 to watch the XXX version where two girls actually bang on top of two girls fighting and they incorporate the shoe. You need the internet to access this softcore pornography, which means you have the internet, and can just access hardcore pornography. Why is this a thing?
Itâs true, weâve all been so ruined by internet depravity that the fanbase for this kind of thing is almost cute.
Thatâs like an 11 year-oldâs understanding of sexuality. An 11-year old from before the internet. From like, 1986. An 11-year old from 1986 who hadnât found any hobo pornography in the woods yet.
This guyâs cat canât even conceive of people that donât like watching virtual girls fight. âThey must be girls themselves,â Mr. Twiddles muses. âThey must be girls who are actively losing a fight? And are mad about it, so they log onto YouTube midfight to dislike videos of girls fighting?â
He also calls women âfemalesâ while he blames them for online problems based on no evidence. Itâs a good thing Mr. Twiddles is already a pussy, or Iâd posit that he might die without ever touching one.
Hereâs another video, this one devoted to cataloguing every possible iteration of one fighting game girlâs âSexy Combos.â
Listen, I get it: thatâs 104 damage. Thatâs hot. Iâm a â90s kid. We literally invented this fetish. Iâve paused a Spinning Bird Kick, I know whatâs up. Itâs two women in tight clothing doing stretches, of course I understand the appeal. Plus one of them is doing a full Captain Kirk-style two-footed dropkick, and thatâs my exact fetish. Now, it does get a little weird when one of the women is replaced by a kangaroo…
But again, this is the internet. I consider it an average day when I stumble across something where the deep sexuality of kangaroo punishment is only implied.
And to be fair, fighting games donât design asses in the dark. So far these fans are just documenting default moves — itâs the games themselves that put this stuff out there:
The little hearts that shoot out of her butt when she sits on her opponentâs face are not missing some key cultural context. Thatâs not how a Japanese opponent honors the effort you put into a fight. Lots of video games are still just very embarrassing, and they would like to, at all times, gently remind you of the fucking youâre not doing.
But as with literally everything, things get weird when we delve into the mod scene:
Somebody took weeks out of their life to lovingly craft bikinis for every single female character in this fighting game, just so you could peek at 14% more of their digital ass when they high kick. And the fans love it!
Every one of these comments sounds like it comes from a late-blooming tween that doesnât understand sex yet, but feels compelled to pretend because all of a sudden his friends are talking about boobs at the slumber party instead of Pokemon.
âOh geez man I sure do love the chest parts when you can see a lot of them and then the girls get mad at them and they jostle âem rudely.â
Not all bikini mods are made equal:
Every character in Street Fighter V has a crazy horse body that is barely recognizable as a human, much less a sexual one. But this dude still spent 60 hours of his life putting lumpy beasts in Borat bikinis so he could masturbate when their fists clipped through each otherâs tits.
Remember, this isnât one of those janky Skyrim mods where you can maybe put them in erotic scenarios like bending over in front of a skeleton. This game is all about brutal hand to hand combat, so the bulk of the video is this:
Donât forget that fighting is a huge part of this fetish, and all that wholesome enthusiasm in the comments is exclusively for strugglefucking.
Holy shit, yes! Topper, that is spot on. This is strugglefucking for Disney fans. Itâs PG bondage. Snugglefudging is so good, man. Itâs so soft that itâs almost vile. That word is like a rotten mushroom. Topper, thank you. And hey, good on you for writing out âfuckâ for once.
Topper, god damn it. Can you at least suck consistently?
Anyway, letâs delve deeper into Snugglefudge culture.
Ah yes, weâve dug down into the foot stratum. No woman is allowed to exist anywhere, even virtually, without some dude in a withered soul patch cataloguing the wrinkles on her soles. We laugh about foot fetishes a lot here, because jerking off to a toenail is inherently funny, but all things considered theyâre pretty mild. Donât get distracted though: this is not just a video about a barefoot mod on a fighting game girl. Itâs specifically about her losing scenes.
This is not solely about masturbating to pixelated feet, itâs about masturbating to the pixelated feet of a woman whoâs just been beaten unconscious.
These Snugglefudgers canât even get off if thereâs an intact female skull at the far end of them wiggling piggies.
There are lots of asses and feet in that gif, but itâs clear the intended climax here is when a womanâs face gets crushed between all of them. Once again, the comments read like somebody pretending to be into this because they walked into the wrong conference hall and havenât come up with a good distraction yet.
âGotta love that foot, am I right guys? Yes, I came here to discuss old socks on purpose. You know, I heard the front desk girl say she couldnât find her toenail clippers. You bad dudes go on ahead, Iâll catch up!â
âYes, one for feet, and feet for all! Letâs close our eyes and think of toes, fellas — hey is this there a trick to this door? Do you just pull or…?â
Topper! You donât learn!
Haha save your âohsâ for when you got some âgod nosâ to put on them. It gets worse!
Look at that greasy hulk about to ruin some poor galâs wedding dress. Iâm not taking screengrabs out of context here, check that title:
Thatâs all this video is about. Oiled domestic abuse in exotic locales. Look at those views! Two million! There is an absolutely booming market for people who love nothing more than to watch Manderson Cooper hate-crime fake women through the floor:
Hey letâs scroll down to the comments here, see all the outrage:
All the folks calling this out as enabling the worst kind of misogyny…
Letâs find those heroes willing to stand up and say, âmaybe you shouldnât cum to this!â
Hey Topper, pay real close attention to those thumbs. See how all of them are pointing up?
No problem my man. Thank you for Snugglefudge!
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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Zachary Evans, who fills every room with his boisterous spirit, and also bees.
You know those anime games about collecting and sort of phantom-banging schoolgirls? Th-
Hush now, wee Topper. Youâll find your place. Here, say something about RFPs.
More like Ready For Penetration, am I right?!
Topper? Am I right? Buddy? How explicit do you want the following screengrabs to be, Topper? Am I right?
Uh huh.
Cool.
Anyway, you know those games about collecting and sort of phantom-banging schoolgirls? Theyâre already the most embarrassing thing to be caught playing this side of a ukulele. The only way they could be worse is if they adopted gacha mechanics and made the whole thing pay to win. Like some sort of schoolgirl store where you could spend real money to force fake girls to pretend to like you more. Just skipping past the whole âdating simâ excuse and using actual in-game mechanics to simulate human trafficking. Hey, that sounds a lot like Girls X Battle 2!
Mobile gaming is known for its god-awful ads, but usually that just means they promise you an ass when they have no intention of delivering one. Just judging by the commercials, Girls X Battle 2 seems to be downright evil. Theyâve built a whole ad campaign on the kind of unabashed anime misogyny youâd normally only find in a Joestar.
The girls come with body ratings and apparently butt specialties. They pose like they have both scoliosis and intestinal cramping. It seems like with enough prodding you can level them up into full bipedal locomotion though, much like teaching an ape to do human impressions through consistent tasering.
This is pretty par for the course in anime, where every girl is mostly panty and they cum when you embarrass them. The whole concept of âleveling upâ a girl from classmate to girlfriend to wife is a little troubling — implying that any woman not currently found at the end of your dick just hasnât realized their maximum potential yet — but mostly Iâm worried about that baby. It is only being used to hoist those tits up and out like an infant push-up bra. Even if it survives the smothering, itâs now a prop in a mommy fetish that I would pay actual money to never understand.
Hey, youâre really getting it, Topper!
One running theme of Girls X Battle 2 ads is that troubled young women come to you for help…
Which you can use for sexual revenge.
Thatâs the most incel mentality I can imagine: Even in your fantasies, women donât actually want you. They only come to you as a last resort, knowing that you equate rescue with fucking harder than Baywatch.
Itâs all about spite and power, and only maybe tangentially related to fucking if she can stay still long enough to convince you sheâs a pillow and youâre not too full of Dorito to be horizontal for 90 seconds.
Girls X Battle 2 ads repeatedly hammer this message, just like youâd be doing to Stacy Williams, who called school security on you for masturbing through the slots in her locker, if only she would first contract a dangerous new plague and discover youâre the only one whoâll take her in now.
Here we have a Level 30 SchoolDamsel being chased by what I can only assume are a gang of Level 60 FuckPolice. She takes a turn to find the player blocking her way, and then comes what this audience longs for: That precious moment when a vulnerable young womanâs future is in your hands, and you can exploit that power for a peek at feet.
So in this fantasy, the only way youâll get to sex is if you first harbor a dangerous fugitive in exchange for it? How little do your own imaginary women want to fuck you when you have to accomplice yourself in hypothetical crimes just to lick their old panties?
Thatâs what BarutoSTANx69 said when he tasted them briny britches!
The choices these ads present make BioWareâs moral dilemmas look like Season Four of The Wire.
Here you see your wife flirting with a Level 30 Dude while you, a mere Level 1 Man — a cuttingly apt description of an incel if Iâve ever seen one — huddle around the corner. Your only responses to this scenario are to fight back, or utterly give up on life.
So you can either lose yet another scrap to a waistcoated fop in a bathroom, or just wait until your wife leaves with him before drowning yourself in the toilet. Again, these games are built around sexual fantasies. This is the least dignified fetish since Human Pigging.
Sorry, Topper. I meant Lolli Vore.
Here we see what happens when you get dumped:
Your options are âsuccumb to alcoholismâ or âcapsuleâ to get another girl, aka the Bill Cosby method. Yes, Capsules. Did you forget this was a mobile game? I mean, the ads sure did, but if I had to guess at the mechanics theyâre so desperate to hide from you, the player theyâre trying to get to play this game, it seems to be both gacha andcard-based:
Thatâs two gambling mechanics fucking you, instead of just one! Thatâs as close to a threesome fantasy as these defeated dorks will allow themselves!
So it seems like gameplay takes one of two paths: You can try to get girls the old fashioned way, by finding them in periods of extreme distress and positioning the prospect of having sex with you as marginally better than dying in a gutter. Or you can skip all that and fulfill the ultimate anime nerd fantasy: purchasing your girls straight from a vending machine! Or rather, you purchase the possibility of girls with each random card draw, sort of like the opposite of Magic: The Gathering.
Or hell, you might get a car instead. Both are equally valuable commodities.
Hereâs the closest thing the ads give us to a villain. It is an unattractive woman.
She has committed both of the ultimate sins: Not only is she unappealing to you, but she also doesnât want to sleep with you after you proposition her anyway. Itâs once again time for coin-based revenge!
Yes, youâll show that cow once and for all⌠by purchasing a teenager from an orb like a sex trafficked Pokemon.
Obviously everything about that last sentence is a problem, but letâs set it aside to address the real issue here: This game is proud that itâs Pay to Win! Youâre not supposed to admit to P2W at all, game! Much less advertise it like a feature!
I guess I get the dream youâre pitching to your audience, which is that money can buy you coolness, but if thatâs true you have to tell Elon Musk. He is dying out there.
In this one we find the ultimate male fantasy:
Your dad explodes in coins like he just touched a spike at the end of Green Hill Zone, and your totally unearned riches instantly graduate you into the coolest of all things: A low level police officer. You are instantly so overwhelmed with pussy that youâre cursed to drag a literal chain of women around like you wished for some tail from an ironic genie.
If the purpose of art is to help you better understand a part of what it is to be human, then Iâm going to present you with the best possible art.
This one short animation explains absolutely everything about incel culture with not a single frame wasted. People have written entire textbooks trying to make sense of that movement, and they were just fucking dunked on by a six second gif from a mobile game.
One which I will now have to play. I think Iâve — hold on. Topper, been a while since you said anything. You paying attention?
GRRREAT!
I think Iâve been fully briefed by these ads. I am ready to start this game, which I assume to be like playing a visual novel that learned to hate. I fully expect that downloading this onto my phone will give it viruses, and taking it into my brain will corrupt my thinking like a Snowcrash hack. Letâs get started:
What the fuck?
Did I download the right game? This is not at all what I was promised. Is this just a JRPG with anime sluts? Thatâs so ordinary itâs almost redundant! Thereâs nothing in here at all about revenging myself upon women whose very existences reject me. Unless that revenge comes in the form of putting a Skankmage in the front row where sheâll take damage meant for a Tankwhore.
Admittedly, this still sucks — itâs like a very embarrassing Suikoden meant for kids who canât get past the Family Filter on their internet.
But I have seen anime before. This is like a 4 on the Anime Embarrassment Scale, somewhere between Darling in the Franxx mech-handjobs and Kemono Michi hellhound ass-huffing.
Sure, Girls X Battle 2 is full of unfortunate phrases like âEXP JUICEâ and âGIRL SHARDSâ…
Which makes it sound like Xenogears for budding serial killers, but at its heart the game is just a basic tactics RPG with, if anything, less prominent titties than usual:
Itâs like Final Fantasy for 13 year olds to masturbate to, which is crazy, because thatâs what Final Fantasy is for. Itâs like that gacha Fire Emblem game, only exclusively marketed to incel terrorists. I realize no mobile game is allowed to have a truthful or accurate ad campaign, but this is backwards. Youâre supposed to promise something epic and deliver something unexpectedly boring, not promise misogynist propaganda and then deliver ahegao Chrono Trigger. Unless⌠is Girls X Battle 2 trying to rope in an audience already susceptible to hate groups, and then soften their views with adorable girl-sprites casting saucy fireballs? Is this actually an outreach program trying to teach hate-weebs to cum harmlessly?!
Hey, there he is! Take us out, Topper. You know what I want to hear.
I have much worse anime shit than this in my arsenal, Topper. Say it. Or do you want to just start right in on Apocalypse Zero?
Brought to you by a Hot Tip from the Hot Dog Tipline. Thanks, Valriuk!
Steven Seagal has done a number of hasty, ill-advised commercials that were not a good match for his brand, which is something along the lines of âInternet Tough Guy Without the Internet.â But his appearance as a playable character in World of Warships, one of those exploitative freemium wargames, fit him worse than his poorly-tailored, mildly offensive jackets. The official commercial announcement opens on the mountain temple where Steven Seagal dwells:
Like heâs not living in a sprawling ranch-style McMansion in whatever Russiaâs Florida is. Haha, who am I kidding? Itâs Primorsky. We all know it. Letâs just finally say it! Primorsky, you are the leopard print jetski of Krais.
Imagine the disappointment youâd feel after trekking to the roof of the world and entering this sacred mountaintop temple… only to find the âmonkâ is a shitty proto-weeb who looks like somebody Magic Markered hair on a thumb.
You already know how the rest of this âfunnyâ ad goes: The default white guy from every character creation screen enters into a training montage with Steven Seagal, the white guy you get after hammering random. Seagal spouts uninspired âAsian soundingâ advice like âstrength is not enough, use your mind,â and the director cut out the part where everyone giggles except Steven Seagal. Seagal has one extremely brief martial arts scene in the entire two minute commercial, and that bit has seen more doctoring than⌠probably Steven Seagal. Buddy, you do not look good. You look like somebody put Steven Seagal in the microwave and forgot to poke holes.
Wait, here comes the comic turn! Youâll never see it coming!
After all this time, Inadequate White Dude #32 explains that heâs not here for wisdom, he just wanted to use the wifi! To play World of Warships! You know — World of Tanks for people without the personal mobility to click that fast!
Side note: Every time Steven Seagal looks at a computer, you can see the most hardcore Asian-fetish pornography reflected in his little glasses. Doesnât matter what heâs actually looking at — the reflection shows you what he sees.
The ad unwisely closes on Seagalâs bloated head floating over a white-flecked, vaguely oceanic background. It looks like he died masturbating in a sensory-deprivation tank and the spa forgot to check before the holiday weekend.
Of course the cowards didnât put him in the game looking like that. Instead he got this extremely generous portrait, back from that golden era when he looked like a figurative asshole instead of a literal one, and you could still pay him not to dress like the waiters at an early â90s P.F. Changâs.
But oh man, World Of Warships were so excited for this promo! Or at least they tried to be! It was so sweet of them to go all out here, like they hadnât just settled for Seagal after realizing that Bob Denver was dead, the surviving Village People wouldnât work for scale, and the boat from Miami Vice had too much dignity.
âFire Down Below! The Glimmer Man is coming to World of Warships! We did not have Maximum Conviction in this choice, but were worn down by Attrition. We know heâs not A Good Man, and The Asian Connection is unfortunate, but itâs too late now. Weâre in the Belly of the Beast. Uh⌠fucking The Onion Movie. Thatâs one.â
World of Warships gave him captaincy of the USS Missouri, the ship from Under Siege.
Which was a very appropriate choice⌠in that the ship is also a relic that used to be famous for fighting but now just sits around posturing because it hasnât moved under its own power since the â90s.
Seagalâs character even came with special âSeagal Skillsâ:
Could you click to make his boat slowly list to one side while all surrounding boats pretended to take damage? What was his ult? Betraying his own ship and suddenly appearing on the enemy destroyer? Could he combo that into shilling for the korporatsiya that made their cut-price artillery?
God, World of Warships really wanted to make this into a something. They even had Seagal pay a visit to their headquarters, where he stood around looking like a big penis caught in a little fingertrap:
Why does nothing fit him? Do they not make frog-closure jackets for Weebles? He looks like somebodyâs squeezing a tube of shithead toothpaste.
They cut to clips from an aggressively apathetic interview wherein he begrudgingly admits that it âsounds like a good game.â They vigorously assure him that he is âa very powerful ship.â To be fair, only after he first says âit sounds like Iâm the best ship. Iâm the best ship, right?â
There are way too many closeups (one) on his gross long thumbnail that he tells people is for âpickingâ and hopes they assume âguitarâ instead of âcoagulated coke blockages.â
Because heâs Steven Seagal and he must belittle everything he cannot fairly beat, from opponents to video games to women, he canât even pretend to play this game he is being paid to like without lapsing into critique of its realism. He very plainly memorized up to two naval gibberishes and wanted to use them as many times as he could in a sort of conversational Aikido. Hereâs how that plays out.
Hereâs Steven Seagal with a group of people who donât understand or like him almost as hard as he doesnât understand or like them.
I promise that if heâs not groping that woman, itâs only because his right brachial artery is jammed with Steakâumms and he has limited mobility.
PC Gamer covered this hilariously obvious disaster of a promotion by saying it was a âless divisiveâ move than prior events.
Hmm, letâs see what the very next major story involving Steven Seagal has to say about that:
And so he was quickly pulled from a game that even Sonic would be embarrassed to cameo in. Though the developers very obviously didnât want to say whyâŚ
Everyone understood that it was really because nobody wants this slow-motion rapist blood-pudding to captain their imaginary fight-boat. Nobody, that is, except for the entire fanbase of this shitty freemium game:
Huh. So the kind of person that lives in the intersectionality between âfree online multiplayer war game enthusiastâ and âavid forum userâ and âSteven Seagal fanâ also dabbles in âknee jerk rape defender.â I am so shocked by this revelation that my tiny sunglasses have popped straight off of my bloated head and landed in my tea, embarrassing everyone that wonât make eye contact with me at this traditional Japanese ceremony that I was not invited to. It has absolutely ruined the Burmese silk slacks that I had personally tailored to the dimensions of âmuch extra belly, four timesâ and ânot so much crotch, not so much.â
Hello, I am here to talk to you about the music video for the song Dog Police by the band Dog Police off the album Dog Police. There may or may not be some Dog Police involved in this discussion. Itâs best to be prepared.
We open with a woman seductively getting ready for her date by doing those mysterious pre-date things everybody whoâs never lived with a woman assumes women do to get ready for dates.
You know, slinking around in a nighty, carefully selecting a variety of perfumes to reward her man with a unique scent for every base. Instead of what they actually do to get ready for dates, which is what we all do to get ready for dates, which is try to struggle out all of the nightâs farts in advance, despite knowing full well that is not how farts work.
And then we meet the man sheâs going through all this trouble for, who looks like everything bad about the â80s physically attacked everything bad about the â70s.
Heâs got a flaccid pompadour and the ghost of a beard that died with unfinished business. Heâs wearing molester glasses back before irony transformed them into hipster glasses, and thatâs the suit theyâll bury Don Johnson in.
His acting style is âthrown out of mime school for being sarcastic.â
And his voice is sort of Devo, but that exact point 1/3rd of the way through a Devo album where youâre like âokay, thatâs quite enough Devo.â
To allow plenty of room for this terrible dating skit thatâs one raspy narrator away from an Unsolved Mysteries reenactment, the music just sort of idles. It refuses to come inside, but wonât go away. Itâs out there, waiting on the porch, peering in through the windows and repeating its strange synth sting that sounds more like a score trying to warn the audience that the hook-handed killer may not be as dead as they think. It lends the whole thing a sinister, unsettling air that is… actually entirely appropriate, come to think of it.
But despite more red flags than an Arsenal match (am I right, soccer fans?! Am I right? I have no idea if Iâm right) the woman still voluntarily gets in the car of, again, this man:
Eventually the song breaks open with four barks and a chorus chanting the titular âDOG POLICE.â Why?
Because his date is a dog! And the Dog Police are there to keep you from dating dogs!
Thatâs hilarious!
…to shithead bros of the â80s, and nobody else!
Thatâs right: This whole song is just a joke the least popular frat house in Tampa is not legally allowed to make anymore, not since the case of Jennifer Dogsworth v. Beta Omega Nu, 1982.
So itâs mean-spirited and basic, but at least itâs also aesthetic poison:
The lead singer mugs at the camera like somebody told him the ADHD meds were flattening him out, which is a shame, because he could be the next Jim Carrey.
While the dogwomanâs make-up looks like Godâs first-draft of the furry fetish came back with too many notes.
And the Dog Police themselves are like McGruff joined the KGB: Same basic character but dead behind the eyes and here to disappear your husband.
Iâm not entirely joking about the Dog Police being a sinister secret police force, hereâs the chorus:
DOG POLICE
WHERE ARE YOU COMING FROM
DOG POLICE
NOBODY KNOWS WHO YOU ARE
For a wacky song about dating ugly women, the lyrics sure seem to be desperately seeking answers about the role of off-the-books law enforcement squads in our community.
But listen, if this was just a song about a secret police force made up of were-dogs who keep ugly women from dating, we wouldnât be here. Thatâs not Upsetting Day material. Learning Day? Maybe. Fucking Day? Of course. But Upsetting Day requires something more. And thatâs good, because this song has one further twist:
Towards the end of the video, the singer makes it increasingly plain that heâs not actually talking about an ugly girl. Heâs been having sex with an actual dog this whole time.
No no, thatâs not the twist.
While that is indeed both gross and insane, thatâs actually just the setup for the real twist. You write a song about how your girl is a metaphorical dog and you canât take her out anywhere? That sucks, but this is the 1980s — hereâs a million dollars.
You write a song about how your girlfriend is a literal dog and society frowns on you dating her? Thatâs crazy, but this is the 1980s — I bet Frank Zappa beat you there.
No, what sets Dog Police apart is the growing concern from his bandmates as the singer reveals that heâs talking about banginâ beagles:
The looks they give him as he changes the song from âugly girlfriendâ to âfun bestialityâ mean one thing…
They were not informed about the nature of this song that they freely started playing.
That makes this whole video a meta-narrative about the rest of a band finding out, onstage, that their lead singer proudly fucks dogs, and they have been inadvertently tricked into joining a musical act that endorses dogfucking.
That is some Charlie Kaufman shit, Dog Police!
Iâve been burning you down this whole time, unaware that you were setting me up for some Adaptation âyou become the storyâ shenanigans. Wait, what does this mean? Is the song pro or anti poodle-pounding? Is it actually commenting on human beauty standards at all? Am⌠am I the dogfucker now???
How the hell did you pitch this video?
I can picture the record exec that says yes to a music video about how women are only worth as much as their looks, because thatâs every record exec. And I can picture the record exec that says yes to a video about having sex with actual canines, because somebody greenlit everything Aphex Twin ever did. But how did you find the one record exec in the world that would greenlight a video about backing musicians who eagerly promote misogyny, only to slowly discover theyâre actually endorsing bestiality? Did you just ask Peter Gabriel? You probably just asked Peter Gabriel.
One final note: Dog Police was a zany little side project for the Tony Thomas Trio — well-respected jazz musicians who played with Ella Fitzgerald, The Duke Ellington Orchestra, and Tony Bennett, amongst others. They wanted to do this song as a one-time bit of surrealism, but when it took off, they shrugged, said âguess weâre the dogfuckers now,â and tried to embrace it. To nobodyâs surprise but their own, it turns out society only had one slot open for Weird Musical Meta-Narrative About Bestiality. They never had another hit. The Tony Thomas Trio went back to playing serious jazz, the only lasting impact being that now everyone they played with knew they were willing to go all in on the dogfucking thing.
