Thief Simulator riffs on the boatload of simulator games we’ve seen hit Steam over the course of the past decade by narrowing in on one job description and sticking to it vehemently.
It’s a pattern I came in contact with fairly regularly over the 15 hours I spent with the game, and one that wears thin extraordinarily quickly. That’s basically how about 75% of my home intrusions played out in Thief Simulator – as fundamentally gnarled executions of otherwise bulletproof plans. I’m frozen, unable to move a muscle, and just like that, everything fades to black. Then in a cruel twist of fate, I’m once again seized by an invisible deity, the ethereal spirit of Un-Pole-Eeshed.
#Thief simulator game online driver
I fling the driver side door open, dive into the front seat and accidentally open my lockbox instead of running from the police.
#Thief simulator game online free
Jumping repeatedly on the spot sets me free and before I know it I’m sprinting toward my car. “What now?” I cry, out loud this time, as this is the fourth instance in which this has happened today. As I cross the threshold an invisible hand stops me dead in my tracks. Sirens begin to fill the air around me, accompanied solely by red and blue lights flickering over a jet black horizon. I put the crowbar back in my pouch, before accidentally taking it out a second time. Typical, the pressure must be getting to me. I gather myself momentarily before making a run for it.Īs I leap for the front door, I accidentally take my crowbar out. How could I have been this stupid? I had surveyed the house, taken note of the tenant’s routines and I was absolutely certain they wouldn’t be home until 4. As I stand there slack jawed and aghast, I fail to take heed of my surroundings for a single crucial moment – I’ve been spotted. “That’s a flat screen TV,” my internal monologue confirms.
“Everything I stole three hours ago has already been replaced.” As I slowly survey the room I’m immediately drawn to the prize catch – a flat screen TV. In the interest of decibels I apply as little pressure as I can and like magic (or torches), the room is illuminated in a divine glow. Quiet as a mouse, I delicately paw my waist until I’m met with the familiar shape of my flashlight. Its 2 AM, it’s dark, and I’m trespassing on my neighbor’s property (again).
0 kommentar(er)
