A Giants Step for Planet Moon (Page 3)

Oh, did I mention that the first-person view from within the shrubbery is mostly covered with foliage? I?d say this was inspired by the Three Stooges, except it?s much, much sillier.

This path takes you to the first of the Smarties. These are escapees from Mars Attacks with better tolerance for yodeling cowboys, and, befriended in the wild or freed from Sea Reaper torture chambers, they?re essential allies. The way to their hearts is through their stomachs, and, if supplied with food in a timely manner, they?ll build a range of useful gifts. (You don?t take a direct hand in the manufacture; you?re simply a facilitator.) So far, Planet Moon has the Smarties producing a bar/restaurant, a swimming pool, a casino, a range of guns, improvements to the Mecc jetpack, and Arabic tents packed with beautiful women.

Again, if you don?t provide work for idle Smartie pants, they?re likely to get depressed, wander off, fight among themselves, and even kill each other. And, as they?re finite in number, a dead Smartie is a wasted Smartie. (In multiplay, you?ll be able to kidnap Smarties from rival camps.)

But either way, it?s nice to have choices?and interesting consequences for your mistakes?and, while the game is broadly linear, Giants promises enough flexibility to create some interesting choices. (For instance, some decisions will take you off to islands that aren?t directly related to the story, and, at press time, Planet Moon is kicking around ideas for bonus sections.)

The only way to feed those Smarties is to mow down a herd of Vimps. These pathetic wedges of shapeless, pale flesh perched atop two legs (known as "cows" within Planet Moon) can be reduced to flying chunks of red meat with a few shots from your blasters and collected by your fellows with another keypress.

Even in this formative version, Giants showed a gift for preying on my emotions.

Watching them fall on their sides, kick their legs, and bawl, I could only feel sorry for the Vimps.

At the same time, I was laughing at all the flying Vimp meat.

And that?s not the only time I felt something. Consider the Sea Reaper. Delphi numbers among her gifts the ability to spawn a tornado. (See the AVI on this issue?s CD.) And what a tornado. This towering twister, stretching from Vimp pasture to gray cloud, is such an epochal event?so huge and so deeply dark, the swept-up Vimps so immensely high in the air and so utterly helpless?and so damn funny, I wasn?t sure whether to open my mouth in awe or laughter.

So I did both. It lasted for a while, and while I expect it looked funny, it felt good. It still feels good when I think about it weeks later.

And I know this: The next time I laugh at Giants, I won?t be alone.

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