Fail to pace yourself, and you'll be beaten in minutes. Repeat the same move over and over and the crowd will get bored of you. The beauty of this three-pronged victory meter means you really have to put some thought into what you're doing. Victory requires you to not only beat seven shades of poo-poo out your opponent, but to win the crowd over and make sure you don’t spend all your energy in the process. The actual bouts are sheer en-tert-ain-ment. You can even rush your opponent as they enter the ring and pummel them with a variety of weapons, too. Pyrotechnics pop, lights flash, music blares, people cheer and videos roll on the big arena screen, concocting a charged atmosphere of pure adrenaline-charged hype before the impending action.
Ring entrances are explosive, with each wrestler's strut to the ring recreated with spod-like attention to detail. However, it's once the action kicks off that things really start to happen.
The sheer depth and attention to detail makes it a joy to try out your new creations, and you’ll soon find yourself dispensing with the dated list of 35 WWE superstars (well over a year out of date and missing many new stars) and opting for your configured creations instead. However, facial hilarity aside, the editor is an excellent tool for creating a near-endless variety of wrestlers, meaning everyone can be catered for, whether you’re black, white, gay or straight. Of cult status), in the Here’s One I Made Up Earlier panel. You can see my creation (strangely idolised in the office to the point The editor actually proved a massive hit in the office, so much so that closet wrestling guru Anthony 'Hollywood Hulk’ Holden spent half a day gleefully perfecting a grappler more hideous-looking than something you’d find manning a check-out at a 24-hour service station, its head like an over-inflated basketball sporting a moustache lifted straight from a Greek paedophile's jawline. The match selections, single, tag, tornado tag, handicap, triple threat, fatal four-way, king of the ring and lesbo slap-up (all of the above just with females), however, are far from limited, as is the excellent wrestler editor which allows you to create your own monstrosity to fight for your cause in the squared circle. Assaulted by the mire of wacky beeps and whizzes which accompany each selection, you'll be cnnging in your Y-fronts at the apparent craaayyyyzeeeeness of it all. First you have to wade through a bog of console-styled menu screens which scream Shit Conversion’ louder than a baying rugby crowd at a clubfooted kicker. Not that that is immediately apparent mind you. I’ve played some turds so big you’d get your whole forearm dirty trying to pick out all the peanuts. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that it’s the best beat-'em-up the PC has ever seen. Wanna make something of it? What initially appears to be little more than a random button pummelling no-brainer, soon reveals itself to be a pretty competent beat-’em-up. Any good? Well surprisingly, yes, actually. HEY EVERYONE, WE'VE GOT A PRO-WRESTLING FAN Does that include you? Does it? Come on, it’s only you and me here, no one will know if it does. With stereotypes like that, it's hardly surprising most people won’t admit to liking the violent soap opera that is the WWE. Stereotypes And Men In TightsĪ bunch of incestuous rednecks. None of the above describe me or my life. I don't possess a mullet, let alone a curly blond one which hangs rigidly down my neck like a cluster of crusty pubes. I don’t go home each day to my mobile home and toothless wife (who's also my first cousin) and throw out my eight in-bred children (Mary-Ellen, Cletus Junior, Ern, Vern, Pee-Wee, Brad, Chad and Maybell) so that I can dryhump the gummy bint.
I don’t spend my days drinking Boilermakers with 'mah burdies' down at Smokin' Joe's, and shooting cans off tree-stumps with 'mah pa’s shotgurn’. Neither have I ever had sex with my mum, auntie or my next-door neighbour's pet dog. I have to admit, I've never had sex with my sister.
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