Fate Of Hellas

Instead Of Reviewing this game, which is substantially identical to the game on the opposite half of the page, let me just say how my opinions differ from those of my young colleague.

Having burned away the psychological oil that fuelled the passionate energy of my 20s, I relished the sedate routine of sending my workers back and forth, collecting up the dropped equipment of recent battles to equip new soldiers. I liked the fact my soldiers starved without food - it reminded me that I, too, require my hourly vitamin soup. The fact you can't automate this process keeps my arthritic clicking fingers exercised and nimble, and is a welcome distraction from the eventlessness of my life.

As for Al, who doesn't have a funny moment now and then? Last week I forgot to stop eating a sausage and scoffed three of my fingers. So this is a team I can empathise with. And whilst the voice acting in Hellas isn't quite as absurd as The Golden Horde, their constant complaints of aching backs and reluctance to carry out the tasks that were asked of them put me in mind of wonderful Britain in its Carry On... era glory. Ed complains about waiting. But what's the problem with that? That's what games are for - to bring us closer, without consequence, to the Reaper.

Basically, as my dotage advances, I'm becoming a more forgiving, tolerant and incontinent man. And that's why, after searching my soul, I've decided to give this cheeky slice of identical shit pie an extra percent.