Mother F**king Killing Floor

Is a game. A game which I take great pleasure in playing. Zombie survival. A few of the reasons I enjoy playing it:

1. The music is awesome, and captures the action just right.
2. The dialogue, although sometimes repetitive, is brilliant. They’re all British, so I have to keep writing down words to look up later. Most of it is well-used, but when your guy yells “New mag” for the seventeenth time in a minute while reloading, you have to try and keep your finger off the mute button.
3. It’s fun to play, and balanced. Play with more people for more fun.

That’s about it. All I’ve really done today. And I don’t care.

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2 Responses to “Mother F**king Killing Floor”

  1. Grandpaa Says:

    I know what you mean about the seventeenth mag, my worst urge to kill a team member was in one of the So-Com games where I was trying to sneak up on the enemy to snipe him and it kept saying “we need to get on with mission sir ” twenty times a minute. As far as the British accent I hate it and the stupid terms and pronunciations like Rob-it for ro-bot, kit for gear shced-u-al for schedule and EL-zeb of LZ. It is like one of my old martial arts instructors said about them teaching you the basic style and you refining it. We Americans took continental English and refining it into
    a speakable language. I’m willing to learn metrics if they learn to talk right.

    • Christopher Balcer Says:

      Well I figure they took some ancient Anglo-Germanic and eventually turned it into English, and we broke off and gave it a different accent.

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