Difficulty:

Just Right

Time Spent:

100 or More Hours

The Bottom Line:

"Revolutionary"

Servant and master, enemy and friend; I proclaim to thee all that upon this day our civilisation - nay, our very existence - has been blessed by thy most immaculate of creations. By our mortal hand has been crafted a game that conquers the limits of perfection; a game that tangles a delicate dance with the strings of our emotions and bestows many a kiss upon our eyes with thy illustrative magnificence. There exists but one greater legacy in gaming, as Street Cleaning Simulator MMXI hath yet to eclipse the divine presence set upon our lands by Big Rigs: Over the Road Racing. But if Big Rigs should be our highest Holy Lord and creator, then Street Cleaning Simulator MMXI doth surely be his son Jesus Christ.

The game doth tell a tale bursting percipience and impassioned executions of the most acute displays of tenderness that any mind could comprehend. The protagonist is but a mere peasant in a universe of voracious villains and disenchanted denizens. Yet he is Atlas, for upon his tentative shoulders rests the weighty burden of vanquishing grime and dirt upon the world he is bound to serve. He is truly the most veracious testament that the class of a man be no indicator of his courage or moral fibre, for his is the noblest of duties that he performs with infinite persistence and fearless resolve; lest the legions who pledge to him their dependence be smothered by noxious filth that plagues all they hold dear.

None but those who hold the most enlightened and illustrious mastery of the ferverous passions that sweep this cosmic plane shall have previously experienced such an ardently seducing display of this distinguished profession. Unfathomable fortunes await those who have yet to witness with thine own eyes the delicate courting of an argent cloud of dust as it coils a tight embrace around a bristle brush, dancing an elegant pirouette. What greater pleasure to thine eyes be there than orange lights gracefully swooping upon brick, departing with utmost haste, delivering nought beyond a sweet kiss? The overwhelming sincerity of the the passion and furore this game beholds is sure to awaken even the frostiest of dormant hearts; for no fire burns brighter than the crushing embrace of the amorous fender mounted pressure washers adoring every facet of the tarmac over which they gaze.

What merit hath visuals in thy modern age? Be they the tools of exploitation, a mere whitewash over the gaping voids left by absence of true compelling gameplay, or might they be a valuable adornment of any theatrical endeavour, like a wondrous frock that clings to the tender frame of a beautiful maiden? Regardless of one's contention, no party could deny the astounding mastery of visual indulgence. Could the noble Da Vinci, with his admirable command of the subtlest of brush strokes, even dream of making but a cheap facsimile to the bewildering splendour that Street Cleaning Simulator MMXI may promote to thine eyes? Nay, for he is but a man. What of Van Gogh - is his ingenuity even a mere fraction of what a mind must behold to create such a wondrous elegance that parallels the awe of a vibrant meadow in passionate sunset that the Lord himself hath delivered to us? Nay, for he too is but a simpleton when weighed against the true masters of art that poured their blood and souls into this game. Truly not even one million masters given one million centuries could aspire to recreate even one iota of what awaits thee, blazing from thy monitor like a confounding stampede of elegant wild stallions.

Though true astounding beauty is but mere window dressing, for the enchanting allure of song is what surely dominates the hearts of even the most critical of minds. My ears have known no greater delight than to bathe in the delectable symphony of high speed bristles caressing the dirt they are sworn to destroy; the overpowering chorus of the vacuum that steals grime away to oblivion; the throbbing rhythm of the engine that carries thy street cleaner forward to its eternal destiny. Consider thy finest moments experienced thus far in life; compress them into a 64kbit/s .mp3 audio file and treat thine ears to luxury. Not even the most contented man to ever have lived could conjure up such a sound that eclipses even a mere sonnet composed by Street Cleaning Simulator MMXI.

Given a quill and eternal ink, endless words to utter and an enchanted audience to sing praises of every last syllable, this humble gentleman could still yet to dream of truly conveying the unrivaled wonder that this game doth contain. Our fine craft hath produced no other like this, yet so many minds remain swindled by deceit. I beseech thee, GameSpot, what abominable servant of thy hellish emperor hath implored thee to speak such horrendous lies of what is certainly the most prodigious work of man history has yet to witness? What repugnant demon hath stolen the free will of Ashton Raze and disgraced his frame as a vessel for evil?

It is but a testament to the infinite glory of this game that thy forces of darkness should stoop to such dastardly tactics, but I fear not; for if true love can win - and it shall - then the minds and hearts of millions shall be vigorously awakened from their boredom-induced slumbers! Lo, a grand and illustrious future beckons us to dine with greatness, to dance with destiny, to lust with victory! And surely the roads that take us there shall be swept and pressure washed to perfection!