New and Infected

Because Runners, Clickers, and Bloaters (oh my!) are just too freaking easy to dispatch (note the sarcasm), The Last of Us Part 2 added a new kind of Infected menace: Shamblers. Though the name sounds like a early 2000s bluegrass ensemble, don't let that fool you. Shamblers have all the noxious fumes of Uncle Bobby after too many red hot chimichanagas and the sliminess of said uncle when he looks at you and says, "Hmm, if you weren't my niece!" Yes, they are that f@#king creepy. And they do damage over time. Nice.

I love when the loading screen between awful, screaming deaths for Ellie says something helpful like "Use your most powerful weapons against Shamblers." Well, thank you very much, Naughty Dog aka Captain Obvious. I was trying to plant my trap mines and hurl molotovs at a pack of them when they melted my face.

And yes, I know, the SGG (Smug Gamer Guy) retort to this complaint would be, "Hey, Grandma, GFG or don't f@#king play. Leave the big boy games to the big boys." To that I would say: Some of us spent our 20s and 30s going on dates IRL and getting laid. It's just now that I creep toward 50 that my social calendar allows me to no-life a game. Given the choice of cat-like reflexes for gaming or actually having had a life when younger, I choose the latter.

Snarkiness and sincere apologies to all the Ellies I killed today aside, I am very much enjoying The Last of Us Part 2. It's got all the greatness of the first game plus even more beautiful graphics and the creep factor turned up to eleven. I'm tempted to pace myself so I don't burn through this terrifying joyride too quickly but that would require self-discipline I just don't possess. So far I say bravo, Naughty Dog. Let's just hope the rest of the game holds up!