The ruler of hell, the lord of all that is bad and wrong, all that has been condemned to the underworld beyond forgiveness, awoke from a deep sleep. The walls shook as he stretched, then rolled on his side, not very elegant, and first lined up neatly over the edge of the bed. While a sleep-sticky eye opened slowly, blushing, it scratched itself behind the fluffy ear, more out of reflex. The movement forced a noise in his stomach area that indicated that larger quantities of Riopan might be in demand today.
The ruler of hell came up on long hind legs. He hopped against the bedside table, tore down some almost empty bottles of Jäger und Goldschlager and stayed there for the time being to stabilize himself. With his gaze fixed on the 7.6 centimeter distant label of an equally empty bottle of Vodka Absolut Cranberry, over which a used condom lay like a small tablecloth, the ruler of hell began to sort the previous night in his mind.
Oh yes, it started quite harmlessly. You went out, you had earned it. Torturing damn souls all day long, conceiving new torments in creative meetings, the undead unlife as the ruler of hell is not easy. You have to save yourself into the evening with a winning beer. Then there was this guy, or wasn’t there, wasn’t there a club, did he really sing Barry Manilow or did he sing with Barry Manilow? These Montego can really do an old hand and the Schlager shots certainly didn’t help.
Where did it all end? With the guy or someone else? Flashbacks of orgies in different states that could not be exactly assigned flashed briefly through his brain. He shook it off, immediately regretted the movement, but finally got up on his feet and dragged himself to the MacBook. Facebook is open. It always is, you always keep up with the times. His profile has updated. Somebody posted something. He doesn’t know the guy. But he knows that the one in the picture is the ruler of hell. Himself. In a pose that has nothing to do with sexual escapade or that could be explained by the half box of empty Jacks in the corner. But it is, definitely. Man, how wide was it yesterday? 500 million likes ?! The ruler of hell must then first ranks heartily again.
He is angry. Then angry. Then an unholy hatred burns in him for everything and everyone. He knows that he cannot have the picture deleted from the Internet. That didn’t work out with the viral Microsoft promotional videos. Well, they just didn’t hire him anymore, this is serious. The picture has to go. It does not work. Damn it. Then everyone has to go who saw it. The ruler of hell may not be able to erase the internet, but he can make sure that there is no one left to see his shame.
The rabbit stands up to its full height, 40 full centimeters of hatred of the online world, ears not counting. Time to settle.
Ok, the point, why the killing rampage of the Conejo del Diablo starts with 100 lower hell demons, I got somewhere in the context of the stories of the slightly crazy developers of Hell Yeah! missed it, but there is definitely a good reason. In the 2D comic look, you wander through hell in a light Metroid style and look for the hundred enemies. Everything in between is just filling work and puzzle-searching work, the actual fights are always unique. Not only because it means lots of chainsaws, blood in the screen and sadistic deaths, but because everyone has at least one twist of their own. Sometimes reactions with the extensive arsenal of weapons are required, sometimes you have to think about how to get hold of the beast at all. The conclusion is then a reward in the form of a never-to-be-lost quick-time event in which the rabid rabbit goes straight to the point in the most brutal way possible. That’s a good comic look, that’s how I like my morning dose of cartoon.
A demented background story, tons of MTV comic violence with a touch of French humor, a hundred variants to fight a little boss fight, and all of this with the good playability of a solid 2D Metroid-light hopper. Hell Yeah! The wrath of the dead rabbit is an idiosyncratic outlier from SEGA’s other download portfolio and, at least after one stage, very pleasant. Too little seen to be definitely here, but definitely a trip to hell that I will keep an eye on.