Mama always told me life is like a store full of exploding fruit. You never know what kind of murderous, psychopathic produce will drop down out of the air vent and assault you. Sometimes, it’s just a common hopping mad green apple—the kind of problem you can dispatch with nothing more than light weapons. Sometimes it’s a weird and surprisingly difficult-to-deal-with spinning banana. And sometimes, it’s a terrifying giant watermelon ominously rolling straight at you as you attempt to blast it away with whatever big guns you can find.
As I was frantically scanning milk cartons in between blasting evilly grinning raspberries, I really felt the game captured the life of the modern person. We’re constantly bombarded, constantly under pressure, whether it be by little, but constant pressures like advertising or the clamor of social media, or under assault by big, life-changing decisions or tragedies. I think we often hunker down, guns a-blazing, as we face down a surreal avalanche of problems.
But there is joy in overcoming. In Shooty Fruity, success is a delightful mess. The bigger the fruit, the more rapturous the cascade of juice when the foe explodes, splattering the counter and gloves and guns and the jumbled up pile of unscanned grocery products. By the time a level is done, and the sardonic narrator evaluates our performance, the once-spotless store is littered with the remains of violent limes and cracker boxes thrown higgledy-piggledy all over the place. I ended each firefight with a feeling of chaotic relief.
So next time the psychotic fruits of life have got you under siege, remember to fight through it. Being covered with juice is worth it.