“But two bags of meth… plus nine grand and a hot tub? That’s all we’ve got. That’s it. And now she’s six feet under again. And if you come near my family, Eric, as God as my witness, I will bury you with her.”
I got the room. Moving in this weekend, and considering all my bills will also be hitting this weekend (car insurance came out today), it’s probably going to be a slightly slim two weeks, but considering I won’t be driving an hour to work anymore and am completely adept at living off of pasta and pasta-related products, this should be fine. (Honestly I kind of do that anyway because I am tired)
But anyway. Holy shit, no more dogs or drama and I’m going to beat the winter up to the mountains.
Make that paycheck still hit on Wednesdays and it’s Scotch time, sir(s).
Concept: a stealth shooter where the badass operative’s partner is a housecat in a tiny tactical vest.
You can switch between playing as the operative and playing as the cat at any any time.
The cat has no lethal attacks and limited carrying capacity, but can fit into tiny spaces, perform feline parkour, and easily outrun human guards. Each level has puzzles that require the operative and the cat to coordinate their efforts.
It’s not a talking cat or anything; other than its ability to understand and pursue complex mission objectives, there’s nothing exceptional about it.
The game is completely straight-faced about all of this, and no one ever acknowledges the cat as in any way unusual.