I would like to play Returnal! I think because I have been considering the ongoing plague, and also because I don't own any next generation systems, I guess I didn't know it was seventy dollars. Because of where I'm at as a person, I purchase and play roguelite deckbuilders almost exclusively, and everything else is probably played on Game Pass or free somewhere, so I hadn't really felt that yet.
Then again, who knows. Any time spent on the game's Reddit or Twitter will reveal players scourged by locks that range from soft, medium, and hard, grim prophecies about the use of cosmetics ("don't"), and other things. It hasn't broken my desire yet; I've feasted on streams, outsourcing these frustrations to others while I watch the roguelike bullet hell fireworks bloom and recede. I sort of love Housemarque; unapologetic arcade fetishism and particles dancing to form what can only be called drugs. I think I'd like the game to work, though. Maybe by the time a human being can find a PS5, such things will be a memory.
Now that the preparations are finished, the sacred oils applied, and the holy raiment of war donn'd, I can name the enemy: Gary Whitta, the one sages call Abaddon, chief of the demon locusts and sovereign of the bottomless pit. And always, always in tow: his plump cherub the Not-Smith, that unmaker of being, bobbing drunkenly in mid-air just behind. Well, no more: know that when the bell strikes at 2pm PDT this Wednesday, their reckoning will be upon them. We're also getting rid of what were called Witch Lines, the limited-use putting aids that helped ferry wayward balls to their waiting homes. In the exciting trailer version of this paragraph, this would be where we suggested that things had just gotten real.