WWE Crush Hour
Forget Dolly the sheep and Eve the won-derbaby Crush Hour is a perfect example of the perils of cloning. Though this Twisted Metal copy has been infused with the WWEs in-your-face attitude, its tost ail the fun and flavor of its source of inspiration. Truth be told, this hillbilly hybrid of wrasslin and monster car wreckin is more mutant monstrosity than respectable knock-off. From the sterile signature moves (Rakishi couldve flung his loincloth instead of firing the same laser as the 29 other losers) to the colorless commentary and ripped-off rooftop arenas that play like a homeless mans TM, one thing becomes abundantly clear: Crush is nothing more than a shameless attempt to make as much loot with as little effort as possible. To its credit, the game sells for just 20 bucks. It also controls reasonably well and is inadvertently hilarious (although much less so if youre the one forking over $20 for it). Ordinarily, this is where wed also acknowledge Crush Hours potential appeal to rabid wrestling fans, but aside from the six lines of sampled celebrity dialogue and the occasional bootleg-quality video clips that bracket matches, youd hardly know youre playing a WWE tie-in at all.