Maulers And Grinders And Butchers, Oh My!

Last week I saw the movie of the year, if not decade. Inception is simply a stunning piece of work that will be debated for years to come. I think anyone coming out of the cinema were wondering what kind of strange and unusual dreams they would be having that night. I for one, had a normal, peaceful nights sleep.

Last night, however, I did have a wacky dream, but it was not because of a movie.

San Diego Comic Con is running this weekend. You may remember me freaking out over it two years ago as I was there myself. However, I can't be there this year, and the creators of the Gears of War series decided to cheer me up while I sat at home. While SDCC is running all modes in Gears of War 2 have a twenty XP multiplier!! Nice, but not the best thing.

Horde mode has long been my favourite thing about Gears 2. It was the first game to popularise the concept of a team of players up against waves of AI enemies, and still remains my favourite. I love getting a group of friends together to stomp some tickers, drones and friends. Except this weekend, things are different.

Waves one through nine are the sole territory of the Boomer Family, a terrifying collection of Maulers, Grinders, Boomshots, Butchers and Flamers, and even then I think I might have left out one. Wave ten is left to the terrifying power of the blood thirsty Bloodmounts, which are hard enough to kill in a normal game and damn near pants-wettingly impossible in the numbers onscreen this weekend.

All this results in a lot of frantic screaming and running from the players and a lot more laughing and having a good time. It also caused me to have a nightmare last night. As is usual, I remember only snippets of it, but I do remember running through a large room in a mansion (not the Mansion map in the game), ducking behind chairs to avoid the Grinder in the room. Man, those things are huge.

Anyway, thanks Epic Games. You've crafted a wonderful experience made better by a terrifying weekend of pain and suffering and bursts of adrenalin. I don't know if my heart can take much more, but I'm off to find out. If I don't blog again in a week, tell my wife I love her and that I'm probably not faking this time, so move me off the couch before I start to smell.