The U.S. Supreme Court has decided to consider a California law that would make it illegal for retailers to sell violent videogames to minors.  Let’s take a look at some past court cases where the pixel met the gavel.

• Fantastic Steve vs. Super Mario

While most gamers are all too familiar with the Super Mario Bros., few remember the enigmatic Fantastic Steve Cousins.  Accompanied by his cousin, Ralph, Fantastic Steve led players on a magical journey through the Sausage Fiefdom.  When the Mario Bros. soared to fame a few years later, Fantastic Steve sued the plumber for stealing his act.  Unfortunately, Fantastic Steve was found dead before the trial began, leading to further speculation on Mario’s involvement with La Cosa Nostra.

• Drew Bauer vs. You Bunch Of Fucking Homos

In early 2008, Xbox Live gamer Drew Bauer made news when he attempted to sue an entire server of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare players.  Bauer claimed that his fellow gamers had ruined his experience by being “pussy actin’ campers” and apparently “sucking each others balls”.  The case was dismissed, but Bauer claimed he found restitution when he “fucked all ya’lls moms”.

• Activision vs. Gift Horse

Activision achieved record-breaking sales numbers with their incredibly popular series, Gift Horse.  So, it made perfect sense when the publisher took Gift Horse to court in order to destroy it.  During the trial, CEO Bobby Kotick looked the money-maker right in its mouth – and then stabbed it to death.  Allegedly, the horse is being reassembled elsewhere from its spare parts.

• Your Grampa vs. Those Goddamned Nazitendos

Sure, your grandfather was in World War II, so you try and have patience with him.  When he took Nintendo to small claims court – claiming the company was run by a zombie Hitler – well, that was just too far.  Remember how embarrassed you were when he stood in front of the judge and talked about the PokéHitler Youth?  He screamed about that all the way into the white mental hospital van.  It’s weird; all the kids are wearing Pokéwalkers now.  You know who else wore a Pokéwalker? Hitler.

• Schwarzenegger vs. Video Software Dealers

All mild-mannered, California governor Schwarzenegger wanted was a vacation. Instead, he discovered a nefarious scheme being plotted by the Video Software Dealers. After playing one of their violent videogames, Arnold realized that his entire life was a lie.  All this time, the videogame dealers knew of a secret, alien-crafted reactor that produced oxygen.  The bastards just wouldn’t turn it on.  Well, all that changed when Schwarzenegger took them to court – the court of ultimate, white knuckle action.  He laughed maniacally as he mowed down the evil Software Dealers in a hail of legislation and bullets.  Standing in a pool of blood, he knew that finally, the children would be safe from violence – consider it a divorce.

Further contribution by Hardcasual’s Matt Clark.

Since its inception into the video game world so many decades ago, sports games have been dominated by a male fan-base.  As sports have been seen as more of a masculine form of entertainment, developers thought that games just naturally had to be so too, but it appears the demographic is about to get a little broader.  In the tireless trek to reach perfect visual realism, 2k Sports brings a new aspect of life to games that many feel has been long overdue.  Sausages.

NBA 2k11 will be the first game to feature the groundbreaking, physics based, Sausage Stylin’ System.  For the first time, players’ shorts won’t be the only thing flapping in the breeze as players make their way down the court.  Now players will have a little more substance in their skivvies, as each will be accurately endowed with the very essence of manly-hood.   Not only will players bob and weave just like their real life counterparts, but now so will their junk.

“I think we all know what we’re looking for when we watch a player go up for a jump shot.  Will we see anything?” explains a giddy Mike Wang, lead developer of NBA 2k11.  “I have watched countless YouTube videos showcasing the prominent dick-slips in sports and the proverbial universe of possibilities in terms of humor when the family jewels are involved.  We firmly believe this is going to take off much like the Unreal Engine did.  Not only will players in the NBA have their Midnight Meat Trains represented, but many new IPs will be able to use the technology as well.”

Wang, who recently left EA Canada, after production of NBA Live to rejoin his old team at Visual Concepts, knew that 2k Sports was the only company ballsy enough to back his progressive ideas.  “EA was all caught up on ‘how to get more money out of downloadable content’ and ‘how to use the right stick more intuitively’ and wouldn’t hear me out as I tried to push for the players’ sticks to go all the way.”

There are many who are speculating that this addition is a sign of possible new modes for the game.  “Basketball players are only known by real sports fans for their activities on the courts, but there are quite a few female fans out there who know them solely for the famous women they date. Now you will not only be able to BE the player on the court, but in their day-to-day life.  (Or more night-to-night.)” said Wang with a grin, rubbing his hands together rather forcefully.

While some may be put off by the new “members” on his or her favorite team; Wang and the rest of the Visual Concepts crew firmly believe it will turn many new gamers on to their b-ball game.

Written by Hardcasual correspondent Zane Gould.

Bonjourno!  Come inside.  Let me take-a your coat.  Go ahead, take off-a your shoes and put them on the rack here.  Any friend of Luigi’s is a friend of mine.  Except for the ones he goes to those clubs with.  I don’t-a like those guys.

Not that I don’t like-a them because they’re a homos.  I like homos.  I mean, I have friends who are homos and I don’t-a care what they do as long as they don’t hit-a on me, you know what I mean? You… are… eh…?

So you like-a my one bedroom apartment?  It’s a little different from my usual accommodations, I know, but the princess and I are a-trying something out.  What-a you say?  Oh, you already- heard about her and I?  You must-a been reading those tabloids, you silly drybones.  You can’t-a believe everything you read, you know.

Let-a me set the record straight for you.  I hope-a you like Velveeta nacho cheese dip because I’m-a gonna heat some up for us.  It’s-a gonna be so good.

Those pictures with-a my friend Daisy?  So-a staged.  See, it’s-a going to be so funny when I-a explain it to you.  What-a were doing was we were playing a little game where she takes off her dress and walks on the deck of my friend Bowser’s airship while I touch-a myself beneath my swimsuit.  What-a you don’t see in those pictures is us a-laughing about how silly it all is and taking out a scorecard to keep tally.  We call it “Touchy My Spaghetti Monster” and she gets points for making me as firm as a Thwomps tooth.  Completamente innocente!

Oopsie doopsie.  The cheese needs a little more-a time in the microwave.  You want a Koopa Cola?  I have-a Diet and-a Caffeine Free.  Let me get-a you a glass.  Looks like everythings-a dirty.  I’ll just-a rinse something out from the sink.

That article from the Kingdom Reporter, the one that a-quotes me saying that I think the Koopas should give up trying to settle on the Sandy Star Coast?  That was taken out of context. I’m not anti-Koopist.  I was just-a saying that if they’d stop-a planting their turtle shells on land they haven’t had in… twenty-a years…

Ah, nuts!  I got a little cheese on my raccoon-skin robe.  I hope you don’t mind if I slip out of it…

Oh, this?  Yes, I see how-a you could be a little confused as to why I’m-a wearing my fireball outfit beneath my robe. ..

It’s ah… well it’s-a very comfortable for one.  And two, well-a…

(Sigh)

I’m-a so tired of lying.

This is a me, Mario.  I like-a to wear my fireball outfit all the time.  I don’t know when it-a started happening.  Maybe a couple years ago is-a when I started pocketing fire flowers and eating them at home.  My brother, he says it’s because I eat too many-a mushrooms and it warp my brain, but I don’t believe him.

The truth-a is, it-a make me-a feel so alive.  All I know is I can’t-a go back to feeling like-a I did before.  You see, this is the real-a me.  And I’m not ashamed-a.

It’s other people who can’t-a handle who I am.

The princess, she’s-a in another castle.  She moved out three months ago when she found out.  We didn’t want to make-a big deal about it so she left quietly to stay-a with Geno. I’m sure she-a likes him because he’s a little puppet.  I stayed in the palace for a few weeks but it was-a too depressing.  I felt like I was-a being followed around by a Boo, but it was just the ghost of our failed-a love.

Bowser, he don’t even-a return my calls.  It’s like I just-a dropped off the face of the planet.  He’s-a so judgmental for a single-father who rides around in a flying buggie with a clown face on it!

And Luigi, my own-a brother, he takes me aside and he says, “People aren’t-a ever going to understand, so don’t even bother.”  And for a second I believe him, but I don’t-a want to hide my secret-a no more.  You understand, don’t-a you?

Yahoooooo!  I knew you-a would.

Please, won’t-a you have a seat on my turtle shell chair and talk-a with me for a while?  And this Velveeta nacho cheese is warm and it’s-a so good!

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #1:
The areas on your body that have Axe Body Spray on them are inherently more awesome than the parts of your body that don’t. In fact, sometimes the areas of your body that don’t have it applied will attack the parts that do, purely out of jealousy. That’s why you have to apply Axe Body Spray to all parts of your body at all times. You can die if you don’t.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #2:
Studies show that people who wear Axe Body Spray get into 80% more conversations about Axe Body Spray than people who don’t. Any chance to talk about Axe Body Spray is a chance to make your day better.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #3:
Though Axe Body Spray is not a substitute for good hygiene, some men have been known to go weeks without showering, purely off the power of Axe Body Spray. They all got laid, too.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #4:
Every commercial that depicts Axe Body Spray turning women into horny sluts has been shot with real women who didn’t know they were being filmed.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #5:
Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray Axe Bodyspray.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #6:
President Obama uses Axe Bodyspray on a daily basis. Or, if you hate President Obama, substitute Glenn Beck’s name in there.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #7:
Axe Bodyspray has been around since 1983, which is around the time that the Famicom came out in Japan. In a way, the two have intertwining destinies. Without Axe Bodyspray, there would be no Famicom. Without the Famicom, there would be no Axe Bodyspray. The point is that Axe Bodyspray has a lot to do with video games.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #8:
The Holocaust happened before Axe Body Spray was invented. Coincidence? Highly doubtful.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #9:
Every Axe Body Spray comes with a 1 in a 1,000,000 chance of having sex with Megan Fox. Of course, you have to be at the same supermarket that she shops at. And she has to be very lonely. And you should be either Brad Pitt or George Clooney.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #10:
Axe Body Spray thinks Hardcasual is a website worth giving money to. Not that they gave us any, but they certainly showed interest. We were like, No way. We’ll do this for free because we love Axe Body Spray so much. So we did.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #11:
Axe Body Spray was the inspiration for Disneyland.

Reason to buy Axe Body Spray #12:
When you are old, you will refer to the time before you started to us Axe Body Spray as the “dark times”. And if any of your grandchildren say something bad about Axe Body Spray, you will beat the living shit out of them.

Sam Fisher wakes at 3AM with a gun to his head. It’s his gun; the one that he keeps beneath his pillow. The barrel keeps a sheen of cold sweat against his eyebrow. He grabs the thing and sets it on the bedside table. This has been happening a lot more recently, his gun rustling out from beneath its hiding place. It’s a sign that he hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s fidgeting through the night. Thinking of the men he’s killed.

He’s had a weird week. Let’s not get into the details. Too Byzantine. Too spoilerific. The fact of the matter is that since the whole thing with his dead or not dead daughter, Sam is feeling a hell of a lot mopier than usual, and it doesn’t take much to irritate him, especially this early in the morning.

TAKE A LEAK. That’s what the wall says. Ah, that’s helpful, he thinks. It’s like he wouldn’t know what to do if he didn’t have these goddamn light-up walls that only he can see. He’s stumbling past the remnants of last night’s encounter and leaning against the door frame, searching the bathroom wall for the light switch and finding only the tile. Goddamn hotels, just put the light switch by the door. TURN ON THE LIGHT. The wall flickers. He tries to ignore it.

He pisses in the dark, which is where he does his best work anyway. He pisses on the bathtub a little before correcting himself, then flushes and listens to the water move through the pipes in the walls. He leans against the counter and curses the morning. He’s in town to snap some necks and needs to buff up on a few hours worth of dossiers before the sun rises. It’s time to greet the fucking day.

WASH YOUR FACE. That’s what the wall behind him reads. He does it, gasping in the frigid cold. DRY OFF. He does and tosses the washcloth into a wicker basket beneath the sink. BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

FLOSS. Sam hates when the wall tells him to floss. He never liked flossing when he was a kid. He’s seen a lot of blood in his lifetime, but something about blood coming out of his own gumline gives him a case of the shivers. The walls never hounded him about it until last June, when his dentist, Dr. Mettso, gave him shit about the number of root canals he’d need. FLOSS, it says, but he ignores it and walks back into the bedroom.

Sam pulls on his pants. He crosses towards an easy chair set in the corner, with a few magazines about local restaurants set out before it like a magician’s cards. He collapses into it, making a louder sound than he expected.

“Mark…?”

Sam leaps back to his feet. He stares at the bed, his eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness. There’s a form there, a slim mound beneath white sheets, with a brunette mop of hair laid across the pillow. “Mark, come back to bed.”

Sam doesn’t remember much of what he did last night. He thought he went straight from the lobby to his room , but obviously he made a short stop at the hotel bar along the way and picked up whoever this is.

GET RID OF THE GIRL.

Sam walks to the foot of the bed with his hands out, ready to snap her neck. He stops short. That seems excessive.

NOT KILL HER, YOU IDIOT. JUST… YOU KNOW… GET RID OF HER. TELL HER THAT YOU HAVE TO GO TO WORK OR SOMETHING.

At four in the morning? Where would I have to go at four in the morning?

A CONFERENCE OR SOMETHING.

Why can’t I just let her–

“Mark…?” she asks again. She reaches up and turns on the light. She’s a good looking girl, Japanese or Korean with thin lips and pink cheeks from rubbing up against Sam’s scruff. She stares at him. He lets his arms hang limply at his side. “Is something wrong?”

Of course something is wrong, Sam thinks, but she wouldn’t understand. He wants to tell her that the walls are talking to him, more now than they ever had in his life. And that he can’t go anywhere without being talked down to like a brainless child.

Having walls that tell him what to do and where to go are great in the field, but they’re terribly annoying anywhere else. When you’re buying clothes at Ross, or playing a game of touch football with your old war buddies, or when you’re standing in your hotel room with a beautiful girl looking at you like a crazy person.

Sam walks over to the girl and crouches down next to her. He smiles sweetly and touches the side of her face. “Is everything okay?” she asks, the writing on her forehead glowing with numerous indescribable acts.

“Annnother rounds. And don’t make itsh all foam thithh time, you asssssssttthole.”

The bartender gives Eric Puligny a look up and down, considers tossing him out for the third time this week, but decides to take a little pity on the man. “Whatever you say, boss. Just don’t be drivin’ home from here, now.”

“Motherfucker, I’ll drive anywhere. I’ve got Garmin Geee-Peeee-Etttthhhhh on my iPhone. Fuckin’ triangulates me all the way home. Tri-anggg-youu-lates. You heard of that? I don’t need no front-facin’ camera to figure out how to get my ass back home.”

“How many times are you gonna name-drop that front-facing camera, Eric?”

“Until I find ssthome motherfucker dumb enough to drop their iPhone 4G right on my lap, so I can make mythelf 10 grand.”

He takes a long swig of his beer, then falls backwards off his barstool. When he lands on the floor, he quickly shouts, “I’m not drunk! I’m jussst lookin’ to see if anyone dropped their iPhone 4G down here! Looks like… Nope, nope, not yet. Barkeep, you wanna top this one off? Looks like stthomebody sthpilled a bit.”

Ever since Engadget and Gizmodo published the first details of the iPhone 4G this weekend, along with the caveat that they had “found the phone in a Silicon Valley bar,” most nights have been playing out like this for Eric. Not willing to let a scoop go unchased, he took the first flight out to Cupertino, where he booked himself a room at an airport Marriott, purchased an economy-sized bottle of aspirin, and began a pub crawl – in the name of serious electronics journalism.

So far, the luck hasn’t been on Eric’s side. His nights tend to start and end with him alone at the end of a bar, greedily eying everyone whose iPhone briefly sits on the bar, or is checked to settle an IMDB bet. Once, he thought he had a suspect cornered – a guy with a suspiciously customized iPhone case and an Apple T-shirt, who set his phone down briefly to play a round of darts. When the man returned to find Eric attempting to guess his passcode, Eric got his first black eye of this adventure in Silicon Valley.

Attempts by Hardcasual’s editors to dissuade Eric from his mission have so far been unsuccessful. When we told him what he was doing was, at the very least, immoral, and most likely highly illegal, he sent us back a terse email:

“How the fuck do you ever think you’re going to be the next Gizmodo if you don’t go around stealing phones? No wonder you guys can’t get a scoop to save your life – start thinking like Nick Denton. I’m gonna come back with a iPhone 4G in one hand, and maybe a wallet or two if I start running low on beer money, and you’ll thank me. You’ll thank me, dammit!”

At the time this article was published, he was sleeping off a hangover, but later today he planned on visiting the Apple campus, in the hopes of rifling through employees’ bags while they played frisbee on their lunch breaks.

“This Alternate Reality Game Is Just Fantastic Marketing,” by Chad Stone, Games Journalist

When I started receiving bizarre packages at the office, I was immediately hesitant.  Every time I turn around, some gaming PR firm is trying to gain media attention with viral videos and Alternate Reality Games.  After a month of this most recent ARG, however, I believe it is one of the most expertly crafted marketing campaigns ever.

The first package arrived in a plain, large envelope.  Inside, I found a simple letter adorned with type that appeared to be cut out of different magazines.  It plainly stated, “You’re gonna die, fucker.  I’ll cut your head off with a shovel.”  I didn’t want to get involved in some lame ARG, so I just threw the letter in the trash.

About a week later, I received another package.  This time, it contained a dead fish.  Nailed to the fish’s head was a note, which read, “Get ready to die you piece of shit.”  Our publication’s gift policy clearly forbids the acceptance of free food, so I dropped the large cod off at a local food bank.  Still, the game was beginning to intrigue me and I decided to perform some online research.  A sword, a fish, and decapitation – the official seal of Maryland features both a shovel and a fish!  What game publisher is in Maryland?

A couple weeks went by without another letter.  Then, the ARG increased in intensity.  During the course of only one workday, I received 355 phone calls to my cubicle from a man named “Earl”.  Initially, the man on the phone just kept repeating stuff about “removing [my] guts with a shovel” and listening to me “scream like a bitch” while my head was “chopped off”.  I really enjoyed telling him to bring it on – he seemed so genuinely angry!

Then, during the final phone call, Earl gave me the clue I needed.  “After I’ve murdered you,” he began, “I’ll fill your body with rocks and throw your corpse in the river.” That’s when it all finally came together.  Exactly 355 phone calls, just like Maryland Route 355, which runs through the city of Bethesda to Rockville!  Filling my body with rocks; Rockville, Maryland!  That’s it!  This ARG was being perpetuated by Bethesda Softworks.  How could I have been so blind?

I immediately called Earl back.  “I’ll meet you at the abandoned warehouse,” I told him, “I’m really looking forward to seeing Brink!”  Earl seemed confused.  I guess he didn’t count on the super perceptive detective powers of Chad Stone.

“I’m Going To Fuckin’ Murder Chad Stone,” by Earl “The Shovel” Crupp, Serial Killer

The moon is full once again.  It’s time to put on my mother’s panties and cleanse the city.  The Dark Lord requires blood, and ol’ Earl’s shovel is going to find it.

You think this is a game, maggots?  Everything’s a game to your generation.  Well, we’ll see who can play a game.  We’ll see who has the highest score in a little game I like to call Shovel In Your Fuckin’ Neck!

Usually, when someone receives one of my letters they get the message pretty clearly.  This kid Chad, though, he must be slightly retarded.  I sat in a building across the street, using a pair of binoculars to watch him open the first letter.  He had the audacity to laugh at my death threat!  That bastard just tossed it into the trash and went back to playing some game where he shoots foreigners.  I was so upset – I was barely able to make love to that cod that night.

It’s not that I have anything against game journalists – I think they’re wonderful people.  I just also happen to think Chad Stone’s head needs to be cut off with a shovel.  I’m sure we’ll have a riveting discussion about “games as art” before I fill his chest cavity with rocks and dump him in the river.

Well, it’s time to put on the clown makeup and head to the warehouse.  Next time, I’m going to send out checks and severed hands with my letters.  Let’s see game journalists laugh about that.

Further reporting by Hardcasual’s Matt Clark.

Daniel Fairbanks thought that the war in apartment 812 had gone through its fiercest battle, but then, last Tuesday Shelly told him, “I’m taking the White Album vinyls.”

That single sentence ignited a night full of accusations, idle threats, and broken promises.  Daniel thought that, as the bigger Beatles’ fan (“Remember when I was at the midnight launch for Beatles: Rock Band?”) he should get it.  Shelly appealed to the fact that Daniel didn’t even have a turntable: an argument so rooted in semantics, that Daniel didn’t think it worth addressing.

Eventually, Daniel decided to let go of his claim, instead taking Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club Band, because it was “less self-indulgent.”  Shelly didn’t take kindly to the implication.

Two hours into it, they were going over the details of the break up, like they’d done several times before, each trying to find some meaning in the whole bloody mess and coming up even more confused on the issue.

Today was mostly spent in silence, which both of them  needed and then hated that they needed it. Daniel’s packed belongings made the already-small apartment even smaller. He was having a hard time of packing, mostly because he was so disorganized. He just shoveled stuff into boxes. One box was marked “books”, “dvds”, “papers”, and “mugs.” He counted 8 boxes labeled “books” when he was certain, in retrospect, he could’ve fit everything into just two.

He was sure he had scrubbed the last traces of himself from any common living area. The living room had had shelves full of boardgames, Rock Band instruments, and the tangled web of wires that comes with having more than two consoles. Now all that was left was the couch, the TV, and piles of boxes.  It looked so pathetic.

All that was left was to venture into the part of the newly divided apartment 812 that she had annexed. He reached for the door knob, stopped himself, and, instead, lightly tapped on the door. “Yeah?” she asked.  She was at her desk against the far wall, her back to him.  Unlike the living room, their former shared bedroom was full of life.  Shelly rearranged the room, though, and while the base elements were there – her desk the bed, shelf full of books — they were in some Bizarro configuration. Like they’d been a victim of a furniture swapping burgler. The room was also a lot cleaner.

He dropped down to the floor and looked under the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.  She turned around, a fine veneer of contempt plastered on her face. Daniel paused, making sure he wasn’t unintentionally doing something.

“I’m…umm…just grabbing the N64,” he said.

“Why?”

“To pack it.”

“It’s mine.  I bought it.”

“Well, yeah, you bought it as a gift.”

“No I didn’t.”

“It totally was!” he squealed.  He meant to sound confident, but instead had a Luke Skywalker whine to his voice. He kept rummaging under the bed and found it easily.  It was an ugly translucent turquoise piece of plastic, and Daniel thought that the coating of dust actually made it look better, like an artifact.  He grabbed it, along with that menacing claw of the controller.  He picked them up, went back to neutral ground, and put the 64 into a box labeled “plates.”

Shelly was at the door. “You don’t like Ocarina of Time. That’s, like, the only game worth having on this thing!” She leaned on the frame, and surveyed the perilous towers of boxes. “Who doesn’t like Ocarina of Time?”

Daniel sat on the couch. “It’s overrated.”

Shelly rolled her eyes.

“No, seriously. The story isn’t really that great, and the gameplay doesn’t really benefit that much from the switch to 3D. I prefer ‘Link’s Awakening.’”

“Of course you would.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

Shelly opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself. “Nevermind. Just give me the N64 back.”

Daniel got up and grabbed the box with the console. “No, tell me.”

Shelly stepped out of the door frame, floor creaking loudly, and looked at Daniel, sizing him up. Daniel knew she wasn’t going to pull any punches. “Link’s Awakening,” she said. “It’s totally a write off. Link goes around, causes trouble and than wakes up, consequence free. Ocarina of Time is about aging, and responsibility and consequences. Things you clearly have no interest in.”

“Wow. Analyze Zelda games and insult me: Is there anything you can’t do with that bachelors in English? I mean, aside from getting a job.”

Shelly shook her head. “Typical,” she groaned. But she didn’t retreat and didn’t move. Daniel wasn’t going to be able to use petty name calling to get out of this one. It was time for another tact.

“Look,” he said, leaning forward on the couch, “there’s a lot of sentimental value. I never told you this, but my brother and I would get up early on Saturday mornings and just play together all day. You know how things are between us now, well, it just reminds me of a better,” he paused to sniff, “it just reminds me when we were closer, y’know.” He covered his face with his hand, and turned it away from Shelly.

“You are unbelievable. You didn’t have any consoles growing up.”

“Shit.” Daniel sighed, more disappointed in the quality of the lie, than lying itself.

“You just lied to me. Again. Awesome.” She turned around and headed back into enemy territory. “It’s mine, Dan.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Daniel bolted up. He quickly weaved around the jungle of boxes. Shelly stopped.

“Look, what if we played for it?”

Shelly turned around.

“What?”

“We play for it. One round of a game and we decide who keeps it.”

Shelly shook her head, but said, “Fine. What should we play?” Daniel got on his knees and pulled out a small basket with games. He put the basket on his lap and started to rummage through them.

“Mario 64?”

“How would we do that?”

“See who can beat the game the fastest?”

“Pass.”

“Pokemon Snap?”

“Pass.”

“Pokemon Puzzle League?”

“Nah.”

“Pokemon Stadium?”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Smash Brothers?”

“Nope.”

The click of cartridge on cartridge stopped. Daniel took out a game and showed it to Shelly.  Tetris. The great equalizer. It took them a few minutes to clear the boxes off the couch and hook up the N64. They played a marathon match. At first, the two former lovers calculated their moves and attacked the game with singular focus and purity of mind that would make the Dalai Lama jealous, but slowly, as the hour slipped by, the feeling of petty rivalry dwindled.  Shelly let out a manical laugh at a three line combo, while Daniel managed to compliment her skill a few times too. In the twenty minute game, no blood was spilled and no malice leaked out. They had fun, and for the first time in three weeks, they forgot that they hated each other.

Shelly threw the controller down hard. “Suck it bitch! I won!” She shouted.

“Alright. Fair and square.” Daniel pointed to the 64. “It’s yours.”

Shelly didn’t move.  She just rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans.  “You know what. You can keep it.  I’ve got the Gamecube, anyway.” She smiled sweetly, like she used to, and Daniel was lost in her eyes for a moment.  Then, he remembered: the Gamecube.  What was to be done with the Gamecube?

By Hardcasual’s Canadian correspondent, Filipe Salgado.

Originally published Jan. 14, 2010.

Previously to be published on January 14th, Hardcausal’s Splinter Cell Conviction Joke has been postponed to April 1st.

Hardcasual prides itself on a one year legacy of providing readers with AAA content on a daily basis and believes, in the case of Hardcausal’s Splinter Cell Conviction Joke, a few extra months in development will allow that gold standard to continue.

Update: It’s finally here.

Q: Why did Sam Fisher cross the road?

A: Because his…643 ERROR: FROZEN DISC – RESET CONSOLE.

Fable and Fable II shook the foundation of what video games could be. The choices between good and bad, the bonds formed between family members, as well as man and “man’s best friend.” As lead game designer at Lionwhite Studios I have been in the fortunate position to craft gaming experiences unlike any other.

Now seeing that not every person has bought my games leads me to believe that some of you readers out there have listened too closely to fellow gamers and critics. Those who would like you to believe that the Fable franchise is “not all that great.” Well I have news for all the video game journalists. FABLE III WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

You do not even need to worry about reviewing the game since I will state right now that it is the best game you have ever played. In fact, just print out this article for your website so you may enjoy Fable III without having to stop to write down your opinions of it.

Fable was a game that broke the mold. Never had people experienced an RPG that let you choose who lived and who died, where to go, what to buy and how to build your character. Fable II expanded on this with a world 20 times larger than anything seen in video games past. You could live in the world with the intelligent AI whom you could have deep meaningful interactions with using a complex system of emotions. Want your son to respect you? Chastise him. Want to brighten your closest friends’ moods? Unleash at knarly fart in front of them. In franchise I have been able to create the two best video games ever released.

However, near the end of this year the gaming franchise will be turned on it’s head, as one game makes us throw out the old top 100 list for a new one, comprised solely of Fable III and it’s side games. Many have asked me “But how will you improve [on the already awe inspiring and in no way derivative] Fable II?” While others have asked “Why are you doing this to us? What did we do to deserve [the greatest games ever conceived by man]?” Well I will tell you now, because I love you.

Imagine that god kissed you on the lips and told you he did it all for you. That is the feeling you will get every time you boot up the system to play the game. With just about every facet of the game expanded upon it won’t feel like a linear hack and slash where you go from one screen to the next, spamming the same overpowered move until the credits role; no, instead you will be transported to a world much different than your own. It will feel as if you are actually living in this alternate dimension.

I promise you, you will never want to leave. With Natal you don’t even need a controller, just walk around and interact with people like you would in real life. You and your family will grow into future generations, where you will be able to unlock even more of the fresh unique storyline. Oh and did I mention you can now play as the dog?

I give Fable III 10 out of 5 stars in all areas, and the Pulitzer Prize and the key to every city and eight thumbs up and Game Of the Year, for the next five years.

By Hardcasual correspondent Zane Gould.