It branches out and does things that many of us did not want to happen. The game makes it seem like it is a story of revenge, and for parts of it, it is. But as it went on, I became attached and understood the reason behind why I am playing. I don’t mean in the writing, I mean in how I felt. I did my best, and after, still, fill a void because people don’t seem to feel the same way. I went through the game and tried to forget about the critic and user reviews to not be pushed in either direction. I wish I didn’t see the Metacritic stuff before playing. The negative reviews are kind of killing me. I don't know if people have the same feeling I have, but I figured I would share in hopes that it helps the people in the same boat as me. I don't know if people have the same feeling I have, but I figured I would share in hopes that it This review is spoiler-free about the story. "Don't buy postal 3, its stinky poo poo piss aids."Īfter that, i had to clean all the poopoo off my gaming chair my mommny was very mad at me.This review is spoiler-free about the story. "See you in hell, Pinko" said postal dude before he walked off. Only then ddi i notice the postal dude I was playing was the one from postal 3! He den took off his hood revealing him to be teh guy from POSTAL 2! He den took out a shotgun his eyes dripping HYPER REALISTIC BLOOD and he SHOT HISMELFG.ĭa pomstel dudem layd ded on the floor and da grim repper threw his lifeless body into the grave with champs.ĭa grimm repepr den re-sealed the coffin, buried it and took a FAT PISS all over it!!! Suddemnly da spostal dude fell 2 his knees and stared KRYING. Postal dudem opened the coffin showing CHAMPS DED BOPDDEY!!! The scene showed a coffin a blood stain on the lid. I agreed and the postal dude dug up the grave. "Are you sure you want to see him aagin?" I explore for a bit, no NPCs or anything.Ĭurious i explore da gravemyard till i find a grave for "Champ" da postal dudes dogg. I arrive otuside a church the screen in black and white. Shidding myselfph with fear i run to the right to escape him HATREED dude running clsoe behind me!!!ĪFTER an HOURS AND A HALF of rumming i finale reach a cave that allowed me to exit da levelm. "I AM GOING TO ♥♥♥♥ YOUR ASS YOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ PINKO BASTARD!!!!!" Out of NOWHERE the antagonist from HATRED starts chasing me!!!!! Suddemnly the words "RUN" appeared at da top. The sky black, only hellfire in the background postal dude lookming justa s comfused as I was. I pres sapce to reload the gaem getting da saem loedingm screen as before.īut this time my game loads into a hellish space. Terrified I turn and run to the frotn door only to find it locked.Ĭornered' I try to out manuver the reaper by qicking him and b-hopping but he was 2 fast 4 me!!! He themn started walking towards me phasing through the walls. Scareds ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ i dun crappered my pants, shidding and farding violently all ocer my $69,000 pewdiepie gaming chair. I try to get a weapon out by pressing de mumber keys only to notice something was off all weapons were missing, i hadent picked up ANY. Upon entering the store, I see nbodoy the shelves empty except the milk.Ĭonfused by the chances i progress, curious, So i b-hop backwards to da lucky gamesh entering the sore i get da saemn lodding dscreen, weirdly enoyugh i see ZERO npcs on the way there a bit freaky but ok. I spawned outside my trailer the full screen in black and white.Ĭonfused I take a moment to process before continuing Then a few secomns layter the game loded. Not sure what it was i enabled it and started a new game on average, a week in paradise mode, no enhancements.Īs the game loaded i got dis as da loamding screen: I found a setting called "true mode" its description only saying "the true ending". I search for a whiole eventually finding something i did not recognise. Having nothing bemmeter top do i piss around in da settingz to find anythimng i had misseds. I had just beaten Paradise lost on POSTAL doifficulmt in under 69 minutes and unlocked all the achivements. I sat there playing Postal 2 on my PC around august last year.
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