The amazing thing about this mad spinning marble we live on is humans are always finding new horizons. Every time we think we’ve plateaued as a species, reached the limits of our progression, we find something else to explore: new continents, oceans, solar systems, the human genome, matter on the atomic level and beyond. The even more awe-inspiring truth is that for every step forward, there exists some sort of attempt in every medium to lower the bar even further in a staggering perversion of the human desire to improve.
Case in point: Michael Bay continues to make movies. There are just people in the world that, whether by accident or sheer determination, will find the bottom of the barrel and keep on digging deeper.
It’s almost difficult to describe just how awful AHH, HALLOWEEN PIE! is without swearing incoherently and pulling out clumps of my own hair. I think that’s why the game’s title is in all caps – you’re supposed to wail its name like a curse before getting as far away from it as possible.
The game starts off with a minute long cut-scene. Well, actually it’s a series of still pictures showing off an impossibly proportioned and ludicrously dressed woman driving her car at night. I say “ludicrously dressed” because she’s wearing a t-shirt, panties and stripper heels, nothing else. My girlfriend insists that she’s actually wearing “spanks” – but other than using that word as a verb, I have no idea what sort of clothes that term is supposed to describe. I know societal standards have slackened to the point that people, for whatever strange reason, actually leave their house in pajamas, but really? I think I know women’s undergarments when I see them.
We’re given an outside shot of the car, adorned with the license plate “P Pussy” – another strange mystery. What does that P stand for? Professional? Pachyderm? Pickled? Post-op?
We aren’t allowed long to ponder this curious new development though, because there’s a skeleton in the road! Rather than do the sensible thing and run over it (as I’m fairly confidant that automobile beats skeleton), our heroine with the Pterodactyl Pussy swerves off the road and crashes into a ditch.
Then you’re given control and the suffering begins in earnest. The easiest way to describe the gameplay is a loose impression that AHP! is supposed to evoke Capcom’s Ghosts n’ Goblins series. The rough similarities are there. For those who haven’t played them: both games contain skeletons and feature a protagonist that gets reduced to their underwear when they’re hit. You can return your character to their previously-clothed state by picking up armor from chests, making it a visual health indicator of sorts. It was silly in GnG to see the fully-armored Arthur reduced to his boxers, but considering that Pasteurized Pussy is almost naked already, it’s just sad. Now, at best, it might be compared to the original title – which has only two hits before death – but considering that we live in a world where the vastly superior Super Ghouls n’ Ghosts came out over two decades ago, it seems asinine not to at least try for that brass ring. It’s a disservice to try to compare this disaster to either game though.
The animation is stiffer than a furry at a petting zoo and equally repulsive, which only serves to pile another layer of frustration on the unreliable hit-detection. Not that either of those things really matter, because even if the controls were spot-on, the level design can only be described as utterly sadistic bullshit. Enemies spawn right at the edge of platforms, outside of doors on either side of you; there are birds that fly above the range of Palanquin Pussy’s weapon, though still low enough to knock all her clothes off. They’ll even damage her if they’re just sitting still on a tree branch. You will get hit. You will die, and it is not because you have failed. It is because the game is wholy unfair.
And when you run out of lives, should you have the immeasurable patience needed to start over, that insufferable, unskippable cutscene awaits you. Every. Single. Time.
Oh, there’s more. I managed a couple runs where I avoided the aggravating pitfalls long enough to grab another clothing-upgrade, hoping with the sad, vain, desperate hope of a man sucking down salt water for dehydration, that it would bestow any kind of benefit – an extra hit, an upgrade to her weapon. I just wanted Periscope Pussy to put some more frigging clothes on.
No, instead she stops for a brief, uncontrollable moment to show off her bizarre, otherworldly figure while the game whistles at her. Then you’re hit by a bird and die.
The only reason I bothered to write about this travesty is in the hope that I can save at least a few hapless suckers from even downloading the trial and forever tainting both your hard drive and your soul. This is an unconscionable piece of garbage, not content with being incurably stupid in its presentation, AHH, HALLOWEEN PIE! is a rotting jack-o-lantern left out on someone’s porch months after the holiday has ended. A disgusting, foul abomination there’s nothing left to do with but avoid while nature takes its course.
If you love suffering, feel free to laugh at The Indie Ocean’s Alan as he bravely attempts to soldier through this trainwreck.