#Serious sam 3 series

You'll put an eye out.' Walking around the next corner, you spot an item that will continue to serve you well much later in the game, even after you've located and grabbed an assortment of more modern weapons. And there you stand, a giant eyeball in one hand, a dying beast in front of you, and the audacity to coolly quip, 'You ought to be more careful. So you stand your ground when it next attacks, clawing and pounding away until, quite without warning, you rip out one of its big, disgusting eyeballs. If you must fight this freak of nature РІР‚вЂњ and you most certainly do РІР‚вЂњ you'll need to do it with your bare hands. You look around, trying to figure out what the hell you're supposed to do now, when out of nowhere you're pounced upon and beaten to a bloody pulp. Moments later, said chopper takes a hit and Sam is bounced unceremoniously out the door, where he plunges onto the roof of a war-torn low-rise.

#Serious sam 3 series

Lamenting his impending assignment РІР‚вЂњ which, in typical series fashion involves viciously dispatching alien mutants in the Egyptian desert РІР‚вЂњ Sam notes he should be 'doing blow off a stripper's ass right now.' So much for political correctness.

In Serious Sam's introductory cutscene, aboard a chopper hovering over the upcoming battleground, we get a taste for the sensibilities of our anti-hero, 'Serious' Sam Stone. There's really not much more to it.Р”Р‡or many, that's just the way it should be. Save, die, load, repeat every few minutes. Endless streams of brain-dead monsters sprinting straight at you like they're training for the Olympics. You see, the latest Serious Sam is built on precisely the same principles that were mercilessly drummed out of gaming land so many moons ago. Or had we? Judging by the anticipation and very early reaction a dozen years later to Serious Sam 3: BFE, an FPS throwback if there ever was one, maybe not. We'd clearly moved on to new and better things. Where was the originality? The realism? What about a shooter that taxed our brains as much as it taxed our trigger fingers? By the turn of the millennium, the truly wanton FPS was on its death bed and the rise of the thinking man's FPS was nigh. Soon, any publisher wanting to turn a profit (that would be every publisher) seemed to have its own take on the basic formula.Р”В«ut too much of a good thing can sometimes wear people out, and eventually the criticisms began rolling in. Notable for stunningly destructive weapons (who among us can rekindle memories of Doom's BFG 9000 without getting all weepy), displaced body parts, creepy music, creepier sound effects, and visually alarming yet severely dim-witted enemies that relied on brute force and/or sheer numbers rather than intelligence, the FPS of fifteen years ago was certainly a sight to behold.