HYPE
LITERALLY NO GAMES
is anyone else tired of this monster girl meme?
No.
NO
I’m going to marry a monster girl!
I just want actual gameplay next time.
Why would you want gameplay in a Sukeban game?
idk, all I see is pretty girls with nothing to back it up.
any info on the hardware?
It’s probably going to be yet another underpowered piece of shit.
It’s not like the competition is any better.
Meh, I think I’ll just quit gaming. Nothing but trash as of late.
Yeah…remember when games were actually good and devs made them with love and care?
Me neither.
This thread is closed
Once known as the king of sports, soccer is no longer even a shadow of its former self.
After the corruption scandals of the last World Cup, fans have begun drifting towards the theatrical magic of the Pro-Wrestling industry. The latest GSF tournament pulled nearly twenty million viewers from Glitch City alone. As of this moment, fans seem to be vastly favoring pro-wrestling.
”It’s easier to follow something we know is predetermined as opposed to something that PRETENDS to be a legit sport,” said a fan outside the GSF arena.
”People kicking a ball is boring as sh*t, too.”
Something tells me the devs are bitter that football (or soccer, if you prefer) is the most popular sport.
During our weekly interview with Prime Minister QUINCY, he revealed his unusual taste for a certain rare food: fried chicken.
”I know it sounds a bit…rude to say I like something most people don’t have access to, but I just can’t deny my love for it.”
”When you taste a chicken breast like the ones that KENTA make, you just can’t go back!” QUINCY declared to the Augmented Eye.
In other news, QUINCY also expressed his desire to ban instant food, although he later said it was “in jest.”
”I wouldn’t ban instant food since that’s what people in this city like the most, and even though I hate it…no, I wouldn’t ban it.”
The “Waifu Revolution” from the 2010’s is no longer a laughing matter. What started as a trend has since gone out of control since the standardization of VR technologies, which allows people to live full-time inside their computers.
As a result of this craze, it shouldn’t be a huge surprise to know that the popular Monster Girlfriend franchise has become a commercial juggernaut, with millions of copies shipped in Glitch City alone.
Worldwide, the game has shipped nearly 90 million copies since its launch in March, making it a record holder that won’t quit.
Is the “Waifu Age” real? Well, there’s your answer!
I sure am glad that the future will be filled with even more gross fetishes and casual racism, myself.
“Is it? You two always make me feel like I’m late.”
“If it helps, that dog isn’t coming until some time later.”
The fact that Rad Shiba is one of the few people that Jill finds annoying is baffling to me, considering what some of the other characters are like.
“Anyway, do you have something planned for Sunday?”
“Watch silly Mega Christmas specials with 1000 grams of black fur on my lap. Why?”
Jill is the world’s first NEET that somehow has a job.
“I was thinking about holding a small Mega Christmas party here this Sunday. You in?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Alright!”
“Invite any client you’re acquainted with. The more the merrier.”
”Got a new weed carrier.”
“The raids stopped. They found whatever or whoever they were looking for.”
“Huh…”
“Anyways, we better start working.”
“Time to mix drinks and change lives.”
“Welcome to Valha-…”
“…”
“…”
“I want…a…Fluffy Dream.”
“…”
“May I see your ID, please?”
Jill can tell she’s underage? All the female characters in this game look like they’re around the same age, barring Dorothy, who just looks EVEN younger.
“I don’t have an ID because…um…”
“I’m the ghost of Mega Christmas Past!”
Have to admit, not liking this Dickens adaptation. I prefer the Muppet Christmas Carol myself.
“I’ll haunt you constantly unless you give me a Fluffy Dream.”
“Do you have money to pay for the drinks?”
“Well, I…”
“DO YOU?”
I don’t think money is the issue here, Jill.
“Yes! I-I have money.”
“…”
It sure is a good thing she ordered a drink which isn’t necessarily alcoholic.
“Wow, I actually got a drink!”
“…”
“So, who are you here to stalk, Miss Ghost of Mega Christmas Past?”
“Stalk? Oh right! I’m a ghost.”
“Uh…that guy! Yeah.”
“Which employee did you leave without a Mega Christmas, Gil?”
Gil has ruined five Mega Christmases and saved at least three.
“Jill, please.”
(“It would’ve been funny if he reacted to that.”)
“Sorry kid, I’m not in the mood to humor you today unless you have some sort of ID.”
“…here.”
”This is just a crude drawing of a dick.”
“…well, in a year or so, I would gladly serve you a drink.”
I’m surprised that Glitch City even has a legal drinking age. Then again, they probably don’t enforce it much.
“But until then, this is no place for you.”
“But I already got a drink!”
“A non-alcoholic one.”
Syke.
“You didn’t expect me to really give you a drink, right?”
“Uh…”
“So, if you would please leave…”
“I-I can’t leave! Not after trying so hard to even get here.”
“…”
“sigh”
“Alright, let’s start from the beginning, Miss…Norma.”
“How did you know my name?”
”I’m a mind reader.”
“I saw your ID.”
“It could’ve been a fake ID.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid enough to make a fake ID that DOESN’T put you at 18 at the very least.”
“…!”
“You’re very sharp, Miss Bartender.”
Is she, though? Anyone can read an ID.
“You look like a nice girl, Norma. Why come to a bar like this?”
To get fucked up, one would assume.
“Uh…um…”
“You seem like you’re in a bad mood, Miss Bartender.”
“Nah, she’s just like that all the time.”
“Shut up.”
“sigh Sorry if I’ve been harsh.”
“These last couple of days have been…heavy.”
Not to spoil anything, but you don’t know the half of it, Jill.
“And having someone underage here reminds me of a certain…incident from last week.”
“Incident?”
Yeah, Jill, you’re gonna need to specify. Half of your clientele are walking incidents.
“Well…”
Five hours later.
”…and that’s why I’m no longer allowed step foot in Neo-San Francisco.”
“…don’t change the subject, young lady. Why did you come here?”
“What do you care?! I can do whatever I want!”
Ah, to be a teen again.
“Unless it’s illegal. In which case anyone can, should, and probably will stop you.”
“…”
“I just…just wanted to be more wild, you know?”
“Wild?”
“My mom puts way too many expectations on my shoulders.”
“I’ve always been out to make sure I don’t disappoint her.”
“But it’s never enough! It’s not good enough to have good grades.”
“She also wants me to go out and take a college preparation course.”
“And I’m tired! I don’t wanna do things for her anymore!”
“So you came to a bar.”
“Maybe if I came back home smelling like alcohol, she would leave me alone.”
“If I’m not good enough for her, I might as well kill any hope she has in me.”
“It’s funny. I have a friend who is also being pressured by her mother.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but in her case, it’s being pressured to settle down and form a family.”
“Oh…”
“So, let me get this straight. You came here to make your mother disappointed?”
Defying parental authority is like, Being A Teenager 101, Jill, get with the program.
“Yes.”
“Do you like alcohol?”
“Actually, I think it’s nasty.”
“Then you’re doing things wrong.”
“What?”
“If you’re gonna disappoint your mom, at least do it with something you like.”
Spite is an absurdly powerful motivator.
“Like…become a belly dancer because you wanna be a belly dancer.”
“Otherwise you’re just trying to hurt her for the sake of hurting her.”
“Let’s start with something. What do you like doing?”
“I…don’t know.”
“I’ve been so focused on trying to be good enough that I haven’t been able to think about what I wanna do.”
That seems to a trend with kids that get straight A’s in school.
“Don’t you think you should start there?”
“Eh?”
“What good is doing something just for the sake of hurting someone?”
“If she gets disappointed in you over something you like doing, you have the right to protest.”
“But if you’re hurting her by hurting yourself over something you don’t enjoy…”
“Sounds silly, huh.”
“Very.”
“Go home. Do some self-discovery before hurting your mom, would you?”
”Get yourself together, man. Move to Philly. Buy a loft. Start a noise band. Get six or seven roommates. Eat hummus with them. Book some gigs. Paint. Smoke cloves. Listen to Animal Collective. Start some type of salsa company.”
“Or at the very least, humor her until you’re old enough to move out.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“…thanks, Miss Bartender.”
“Call me Jill.”
“Careful out there!”
“In the end you did humor her for a bit.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh! A doggy!”
“Hello little girl!”
“Oh shit.”
“You’re late.”
“Missed me, J?”
“…”
“You’re too early.”
“Boss, will he be any good around here?”
He’s here to provide moral support, clearly.
“I’m right here.”
“I know.”
“Of course, I spent lots of time training him. Why do you think he didn’t show up last week?”
“Because how the hell would I know you’d bring a PART-TIMER DOG?!”
“Here, let me show you.”
“Sit.”
“SIR YES SIR.”
“Roll.”
“SIR YES SIR.”
“Paw.”
“SIR YES SIR.”
“Training…of course.”
“He’s only shouting “sir yes sir” and not doing anything else though.”
“I never said I did a PERFECT job.”
“Hm? Is that a motorcycle?”
“In the end, he’s just a dog, I guess.”
“Y-Yes?”
“…bathroom.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s only for clients.”
“…”
Me too, buddy. That policy is atrocious.
“Oh…um…promise me you’ll buy something afterwards. It’s that door over there.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“The other one!”
“Sheesh…”
“I said get out of my desk!”
“But the world’s ending!”
“It was just a motorcycle.”
“They’re the 4 Riders, then!”
“Those are horsemen, and it already stopped.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I need to buy something now, right?”
“Oh no, you don’t have to. Sorry if it looked like I meant to inconvenience you.”
“No, I’ll order something. I need a rest anyways.”
“What can I get you?”
“A…Piano Woman…would be nice.”
“Sorry, didn’t hear you.”
“ahem I’ll have a Marsblast.”
“Eh…sure.”
Long story short: we serve him the drinks he actually wants before he finally embraces that he doesn’t need to be masc.
“…”
“You look happy.”
“Shut up.”
“Is that motorcycle out there yours, mister…?”
“Call me Mario. And yes, it’s mine.”
“Sorry for the noise.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not like you stayed outside too long or anything.”
“So, what do you work as, Mario?”
“I live to paint the roads black with my wheels, leaving the trail of my engine’s sounds wherever I go.”
“I’m a rebel. Fuck the red lights! Fuck the speed limits! Fuck the helmet laws! The roads are mine and mine only. I am-…”
A jackass?
Ooh, is she gonna dress up as a cocktail, spin a sign around and stuff? Sounds dope.
“Hello doggie!”
“Hello shady guy!”
“S-Shady…”
“Alright.”
“Careful.”
“Who was she?”
“Oh, she’s my boss.”
“She was cute.”
“Err…not that you’re not cute. And it’s not like I’m into girls either.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just…”
That’s certainly one way to come out, I guess.
“So, where do you work, Mario?”
“I told you, I’m a rebel, I…”
“Rebels can’t maintain those bikes for too long. What’s your DAY job?”
“…I’m a delivery boy.”
Only semi-related, but do you ever start ordering from a place so frequently that the delivery people start to recognize you? Because I’ve done that.
“That’s really appropriate, I guess.”
“What do you deliver?”
“I’m from a courier company. So it’s kinda like mail, I guess.”
“I’m always around the city and I know it like the palm of my hand.”
“Sure, I might not remember every building, but I remember every intersection and every street.”
“That’s nice. I still can’t take detours without feeling totally lost.”
“Try guiding yourself with the help of landmarks. Around here, the Saber Station’s antenna is a good reference.”
“Err…I mean…what do I care? Fix that yourself, b-bitch.”
“Do you want anything else, Mario?”
“I guess a Moonblast would be nice.”
“Moonblast?”
“EEEEEEH GUT PUNCH. Yeah, that…one.”
Embrace the fem within you, Mario.
“…”
Same process as before.
“Heh…this is good.”
“It’s a Moonblast.”
“…”
“I…”
“No, nevermind.”
“Say, Mario. Why do you try so hard to keep up that tough guy image?”
Depends on if you want a long ass LGBT history lesson, Jill.
“…it isn’t working?”
“Maybe when you arrived and had to go to the bathroom, but after that you just looked…cute.”
“Cute…”
“So, why do it?”
“Bikers are supposed to be scary, right?”
Suuure, that’s why.
“Rebels that cause trouble and ride free from society’s ties.”
“If we applied that brand of logic here, I should be wearing one third of my clothes and lighting drinks on fire.”
“I guess.”
“You can do whatever you want and dress however you want. It’s just that you look like you’re trying so hard.”
“Like you really don’t enjoy that.”
“…it’s not a LIE.”
“Who says you can’t dress as a biker and still be a nice kid?”
“Yeah, but other bikers…”
It’s just like that old cliche your parents said about peer pressure and jumping off of bridges.
“That sounded like something someone in high school would say.”
“Ugh…”
“sigh It’s just advice. Don’t take it too personally.”
“No, you’re right. I don’t have to be that way.”
“Unless you want to. I ain’t stopping you there.”
“Yeah, but I don’t. It’s tiring and I don’t feel good.”
“If you want, you can try to stay quiet. You were pretty intimidating when you did that.”
He was?
“I see.”
“Will you have another drink or did you have too many already?”
“I can handle another one. Get me a Fringe Weaver.”
“Sure.”
We did it, kids!
“Yup, that’s the one. Thanks.”
“Say, that guy over there.”
“Gil? What’s up with him?”
“Are you dating him?”
”Fuck no.”
“No.”
“Is he seeing anyone?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Do you think he…”
“He…?”
Oh come on, Jill. Be a good wingman.
“No, nevermind! I said nothing.”
“Please come again.”
“…”
“Ah, Gil. You heartbreaking fuckboy.”
Took you long enough.
“Eh? What?”
“Nothing.”
“I’ll be taking my break now, Gil.”
“Okay. Careful.”