The bar lighting is all wrong, that sickly col like someone pissed in the neon, and she’s just there, crawling. Not walking, not dancing. On all fours across the sticky floor, track marks in the grime. And my job, the whole point of this arcade shooter shit, is to, well, aim. It’s a score attack thing, you know? You’d think it’s about the ragdoll physics or whatever when you hit them but no, it’s the arc of it. The trajectory from pixel-cock to… destination.

Which brings up the cumshot. Which is the whole mechanic, obviously. The fucking deposit every time you click has this weighty splat sound, like someone dropped a whole fish on tile. It’s jarring. They call this a xxx game, which, yeah, technically. Watching the animated jizz fly across the screen, trying to hit a moving target that’s doing this weird slink across a bar mat. It’s not hot, not really. It’s like trying to fill a moving teacup from across the room.

What gets me is the col. They used a real model for one of the sprites, I swear, her face scans are unnervingly realistic, pores and everything, but she’s got this big cock now? That doesn’t track. The fun is actually in the failure. Missing completely and seeing the goo hit the jukebox. The high score board is just for bragging rights, digital spray and pray. My phone buzzed during a run and I lost my streak. I’m not certain I care. The arcade shooter tag feels generous, it’s more of a timed clickfest once the girls speed up. A bizarre, sticky mess. Dare to play it alone, or invite company who won’t ask too many questions?