Entering the game, I'm presented with a story that doesn't grab me, and a rather small window. I fullscreen it, which makes it inconvenient to chat by alt-tabbing. Rubik and Rag spectate me for the first part of my playthrough, the first of whom drops some minor spoilers, but nothing groundbreaking. The art strikes me as rather ugly, the main character in particular. Controls are like an RPG maker Pokémon game, rather clunky. The music is consistently between mediocre to unpleasant, with a few high points at a couple encounters or so throughout the entire game.

I meet a flower that's going to introduce me to the game, and I don't really think much of what is going on, so I take a volley head-on. I note the event as slightly clever, and as an omen of things to come, before a goat woman deus exes me. Following this comes a mind-numbingly boring sequence of events as I'm babied around, which I suppose was the point, but that didn't make it any more entertaining. Somewhere along the way, Rubik tells me that I can spare creatures after they turn Yellow, after I walk past three frog statues without interacting with any of them. None of the other frogs I met with could talk, so why would I, really? It's pretty convenient that he told me though, because I never noticed names being white or yellow, and I don't know how long it would have been until I did. Afterwards, the game tells me the answer to a puzzle in a room that is too tedious to properly explore because of random encounters. Along the way, I decide that I'm going to kill anything that offends me, and spare the rest. Most mobs survive, including the ghost, which was a rather charming encounter. On the other hand, I murder the goat lady when the opportunity presents itself, as the game grinds to a halt whenever she appears. The battle is surprisingly challenging, making me wonder if the peaceful route is comparatively easier, and if the game actually assumes I would hold anything but resentment for her. It's also extremely tedious, as the combat doesn't even pretend to have any depth. I would commend the different characteristic attacks patterns the game uses though, which it explores fairly well.

After killing her, I enter a new area, and the game reaches a new low. A skeleton man appears, and I only need one sentence to know that I immediately hate it. He could have said anything, and it wouldn't matter, because his speech audio is outright unpleasant. That's not to say that his barrage of puns were well received. They weren't. With him comes a brother that is only good by relativistic standards, as I continually dread the prevalence of their interactions. Thankfully, the game lets me walk past Sans a lot of the time he shows up, which is an opportunity I always take advantage of, much to Rubik's disdain. It's incomprehensible to me that anyone would actually behave otherwise. The area also marks the first enemy I kill not out of contempt, but because interacting with it doesn't pan out. RIP ice dragon, or whatever you were.

I kill a bunch of dogs on the way entirely because they're dogs instead of cats, before I reach a village. After talking to everyone and wondering why the wolf throws ice into the ocean instead of just extending the conveyor belt, the only other character that stands out to me is a snowman I carry with me for the rest of the game. Who knows where I was supposed to drop it off. I end my session here, and keep on by myself afterwards, where I eventually walk into the lesser of the two obnoxious skeletons. It's clearly been a good time since I've played the game, since I don't immediately jump at the opportunity to murder him. Truth to be told, he grew up on me a bit, probably out of a need to find something to be attached to. Either way, his health drops to zero, but his skull persists. It thankfully evaporates before I fully conceive the notion that I've yet to get rid of the character.

Following his death, the chronology of the events blur a bit for me, but it has to do with water. I meet a yellow kid along the way that I decide to save in the spur of the moment presented to me. It notes the first time the game breaks the dichotomy between the overworld and combat, as well as the first moment I die not too long thereafter, failing to navigate a bunch of platforms before the enrage timer becomes overwhelming. The arc is full of first-time experiences, as I also find the first (and only) zone that I consider aesthetically pleasing, a neon-radiating lake in a mushroom kingdom. It also hurts my eyes to look at. There is also the first and only vendor willing to buy my items, occupied by a group of dogs that for the first time incite in me a sense of disappointed not in the game, but its creator. The second time comes shortly after in the form of an octopus' facial expressions. I also meet up with my ghost buddy, the only character I've halfway liked so far, and we lie on the floor and a bunch of starts splatter across the screen. I'm left disappointed in his music, while pondering how the snail knew I was cheering for him in particular. The whole thing ends as I face Undine, whom seems to be upset that I killed her incompetent underling. It hurts my verisimilitude to think that she wouldn't appreciate it, as I die to a bunch of arrows in a guitar-hero game where the arrows point in the opposite direction of what you should. Then I die another time, and once more again, finding out both that trying to out-range her spear doesn't stop her mechanic, and that I should just kill her as I spend between 10 and 20 turns trying to interact with her after her conversation ran dry. I assume she might have let me talk with her had I not killed Papyrus, although that seems pretty shallow from a game-design perspective. I reach a similar conclusion with regards to money after I try to give it all to real spiders mid-combat and went empty, but that encounter is actually resolved before her hit bar reaches 0, which I'm thankful for. I'm not quite sure where in the story the spiders appeared, to be honest, so I threw them in here.

Next comes lavaland and a shut-in that I eventually discover to be a woman, and not the white knight I assumed. The entire arc is for the most part more enjoyable than anything preceding it, although it's still predominantly filled with the author trying their best to force as much 'humor' as they can into everything on the screen, the overwhelming majority of whom I fail to appreciate. The animations of the morningstar's attacks were pretty neat though, as an aside. I help some robot top the rankings as he ends up the only major boss to survive throughout my playthrough in a fight that actually seemed to have some form of tangible gameplay to it other than the dodge phase. I'd like to state that Mew Mew Kissie Cutie actually sounds like a decent show.

Sans shows up and talks a bunch, and I find myself unable to do anything for a few moments before I realize the game actually expects me to reflect upon my actions, as if I should feel bad about cleaning up thrash. He asks me a question I don't fully know how to answer, so I say 'no' just to be contrarian, and he mentions how I killed his brother. It fills me with with determination. Lots of walking and superfluous save-point commence before I'm met with the king, whose name sounds like a rather unpleasant rectal conditions. His soundtrack is actually pretty nice, and his spear attack is pretty fancy, albeit really easy to dodge. Hacking continuously at him with a sword that thankfully doesn't ask me to spam Z afterwards for no discernible reason, I decide to spare him, and the game nosedives as a completely irrelevant flower inserts itself into the game, and the software shuts down. It then does some ebin scriptkiddie visuals as it starts up again, and I engage in combat with a character that I couldn't care less about, looks atrocious by any metric, that has absolutely no tension. I dodge things just to keep me occupied, as it seems like the amount of damage I take is completely irrelevant, although I never felt like challenging the notion. The game wraps up telling me that a media robot has taken over the world after I murder the plant, which feels part like defeat, but I'm sticking to my principles.