In my sobriety, I anticipated that Red Dead II would be a venerable successor to its predecessor, a game which would allure aspiring horse enthusiasts, with a penchant for gazing diligently at the bodily anatomy of mares and stallions alike. Albeit, it was not to be, for while Red Dead once exonerated the cultural practices of the Irish, featuring a manic Irish man, cupping the testicles of a stallion in the palm of one hand, whilst vigorously caressing his phallus in the other, this waning spawn of its precursors loins features nowt but rambling suffragettes, roving bands of cutthroats and the withering vestiges of the game developer's desire to live, that now lay forlorn and scattered across the plains of this realm.
The premise of scandalous trysts with mares, brawls with towering women, rippling with cords of muscle and emulating the life of a cunning outlaw is a facade, a guilefully crafted illusion, designed to entice players to purchase Red Dead II, only for them to soon grimly comprehend that they have been duped. I was one of these unfortunate saps who after trekking for hours among the marshes and bogs of a backwater province, finally reached the epiphany that what I had embarked not upon a game revolving around western cutthroats and brigandry, but instead a tedious trudging simulator, one that would gradually sully the bridle and tear at my once pristine garments and boskin boots.
There was but one consolation I had, a slither of bliss, that enlivened the otherwise senseless and agonizingly leisurely and bovine ventures throughout the inexplicably immense wildernesses. To elaborate, what verily ignited my passion was the tale of how Arthur, Dutch and the rest of their criminal syndicate, despite being murderers, the bane of paupers and ruffians of the lowest calibre, had altruistically decided not to partake in the maleficent and grievous activity of racism and sexism. Forsooth, Arthur himself can boldly proclaim himself to be not only the paragon of equal rights, but also the personal chauffeur for belligerent, screeching suffragettes.
And who could omit the wholly uncontrived and delightful Lenny quest, where Arthur and his amicable Stygian thrall, Lenny, capriciously sauntered about the Valentine saloon, engaging in ludicrous shenanigans, which elicited immense amounts of felicity amongst the lobotomized hordes, who prowl around Reddit's most banal, creatively bereft caverns. In sooth, this game is a wholeheartedly enlightening bastion of fairness, tolerance and affability to all, traits which were indisputably prevalent throughout the 20th century, and paint a stark contrast its predecessor, which inexplicably features nowt but tension and senseless conflicts amongst the masses.
