"Draw a Stickman: EPIC" isn't quite the EPIC experience it might have been, but it does have enough epic moments to satisfy a seven-year old girl playing with her daddy. Off on a quest to rescue her best friend (a potato with hair), there was ample satisfaction gained by wielding mustachioed keys and smiley-faced axes.
Although the early levels are easily played by children, the latter half of the game is not (and we resorted to a FAQ for the final level). Fortunately, the death screens are greatly amusing. In the end enough amusement was had by all to make the experience well worth it.
Potato: A Fable
Once upon a time there was a girl whose Daddy nicknamed her "Potato". This was quite annoying, for her father was quite absent-minded and would occasionally pluck at her cheek thinking he was grabbing a chunk of potato to eat. "Daddy!" she would squeal. "I'm not a potato! Potatoes can't talk!
" Upon this reminder his face would sink in shame and he would promise, promise
, to remember that his daughter was not, in fact, a potato, and then five minutes later he would pluck at her cheek once again.
Daddy was a very nice Daddy, the girl decided, but not blessed with an over-abundance of brains.
One day they were at the local park, walking along a quiet trail that wended its way through a dense forest. The girl was eyeing her father's hand suspiciously as it crept ever-closer to her cheek when suddenly a loud Boom!
shook the treetops and knocked them to the ground. Confused and unsure, the girl and her Daddy slowly got back to their feet, coughing and waving the clouds of dust away. And as the dust began to settle, they saw what had appeared in front of them.
It was tall, twice the height of the girl. It was heavy. It was pocked with weird-little marks like eyes. It was dull brown. It was a potato.
The potato grabbed the girl's father with spindly black arms. "No!" the girl shrieked. The potato turned as if daring her to do something. It still held her Daddy, who had fainted and gone quite limp.
The girl took an involuntary step back. For an instant she considered fleeing - after all, what could she do against a potato twice her size? But then she saw the potato use its free hand to poke at Daddy's cheek, as if wondering how much it could pluck away. . .
"No!" she shouted, and leapt forward. The potato reared back in surprise, but the girl already had it in her pincer-like grip. . .
When her father came to, they were once again alone in the forest. "What happened?" her Daddy asked. His eyes remained unfocused, and the girl tensed as he brought his hand close to her face - only to pat the top of her head. She sighed in relief.
"Oh, nothing," she said breezily. Then she belched, long and deep and full of flavor. Her Daddy turned green. "But," she added as he struggled not to throw up, "can I skip dinner tonight?"
I think I need more sleep.