Why Pout? by Andrew Schultz
I’ve enjoyed Andrew’s other game-as-game works over the years (chess, tic-tac-toe), but I had never played one of his wordplay offerings. I figured this Comp was the time to rectify my deficiency. So here I want focus on the experience of someone who hasn’t played one of these before and had little knowledge beyond “Oh, it’s one of those rhyme-y things, I think.”
The overarching gameplay of Why Pout? is to take a two-word phrase (such as the title!) and homophonize it into a new phrase also often of two words. The phrases that need alteration are often obvious because they tend to be odd and stick out, and they are often the names of the rooms themselves. In one early example, the room Hype Lane becomes HIGH PLAIN.
It’s a pretty clever use of the parser. Why Pout? more or less eschews traditional commands beyond X and directional commands. Instead, it’s a series of two-word commands that often have unexpected and fun results. It’s crossword puzzly in a good way, and satisfying when you figure out the next clue in front of you. As a first-time player of this genre, the game also offers several affordances which worked very well for me. If you guess at least one of the two words correctly, the parser will tell you you’re on the right track. If you guess a correct phrase but it isn’t time to use it yet (as some puzzles depend on others being previously solved), a THINK command recalls those correct-but-not-now answers for you. And there is a cleverly-named single-use item that allows you to bypass a puzzle entirely.
The puzzles can feel a little scattershot, and sometime crossword puzzly in a bad way. QUID, MENSCH, and WHEE feel a little forced, perhaps, as does the manic herb and its solution MANNA CURB. And there are a few puzzles that depend on previous puzzles’ completion that resist any logical attempts to deal with them out of turn. I’m looking at you, tree (small).
The game’s story is ostensibly about being imprisoned, recovering your identity, and then assembling a classic fantasy adventuring party to defeat your captors. The writing is fun and the dramatic changes to the world whenever you enter a new command are written well. But, while probably overused, the term ludonarrative dissonance applies here. This game is fundamentally about solving a bunch of homophonic phrases and the story seems to be written entirely around the word puzzles the author created. The fundamental throughline of assembling your companions is strong and provides some thematic unity, but individual elements—financiers and squids and mice, oh my—only exist because the puzzles say they should.
Still, I think it’s an effective twist on the medium: a chaotic fantasy story told entirely through wordplay. And, by the end, maybe you can enjoy cannon joy. I think I’m doing that right.