My wife hands me a FedEx envelope and says, “This arrived for you today.” I always enjoy when companies are kind enough to send me press copies of games because it often means I have the chance to try out titles I wouldn’t normally pay any mind to. This is definitely the case here as I open up the package and find The Godfather II inside. The game has been so far off my radar that I didn’t even know it was in development, let alone being released. Obviously something so violent and mature isn’t appropriate to play in front of my toddler son, so I wait until after he’s asleep then pop the disc in my Playstation 3. I sometimes wonder why these types of games are so popular, but after a couple hours of playing the answer is clear to see. A very cinematic presentation, a fun combat system, an excellent map, plenty of depth in building your own “family” of mobsters, and too much more to mention would probably be like mafioso nirvana for anyone into the genre. In a nutshell, it’s good fun. However, even though I’m enjoying the game, a small voice in the back of my head is becoming progressively louder and keeps repeating one word over and over: “Peggle, Peggle, Peggle.” I’m sorry, Godfather II. You’ve earned my respect and I’m sure plenty of other gamers will deservedly love you, but I’ve got to put in something a little more my speed. Don’t despair, though, for now that I’ve tasted the fascinating world of organized crime I may be back before you know it. Until then, it’s time for Peggle.
Whoops. As the new barber in town, this is certainly not the way to earn the respect of my potential clients. Mr. Stickle the celery stalk came into my shop asking for a “bowler hat” hairdo, and a few stray snips of the scissors later, he’s looking worse than before I started. The good news is he hasn’t seemed to have noticed my mistake yet, so I still have the opportunity to set things right. I grab my spray bottle and give his mop top a few pumps of water. Voila! New foliage sprouts almost instantly. Now to shape it. I make sure to take extra precaution with my scissors and trim his leafy mane into just the shape he requested. He seems pleased with the results, but I decide to add just a bit of pizazz in the form of color. A dash of red, a streak of white… now he’s truly styling. Mr. Stickle is almost jumping out of the chair with glee and he gives me the highest honor a barber can hope for: a five star rating! If I keep this up my barber shop will be booming with business in no time.