There’s apparently something about the The Escapist that brings out my morbid side. The last thing I wrote for them was about how Disney films handle death, and what games could steal. This time, I’m talking corpses, and the stories they have to tell.
“What appear to be three plaster cast statues sit around a dinner table. A daughter looks sheepishly at her empty plate, forever. Mother’s arms are tied behind her back. Father is at the head of the table in his rabbit mask.
It’s at this point – his slashed wrists are outstretched and bleeding onto the whitewashed table – that it becomes clear what they are. Not statues at all.”
The night after submitting the article, I was chatting about it to someone I’d just met. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘like that bit in Left 4 Dead 2?’, before casually reeling off an example so perfect it made me want me want to run home and beg for my copy back.
But, mysterious Southern dead guys or no, I’m pretty pleased with how the article turned out. I just still can’t believe I got away with that big fat Robyn reference.
You can read the whole thing here.