Breaking News: Epic Gaming Disaster or "How Not To Launch A Game"
In a plot twist likely only seen in the worst reality TV shows, “The Day Before” has opted for a graceful exit from the realm of video gaming, making its way off the Steam platform quicker than a toddler at a candy store when they hear the ice cream truck. Once hailed as the second coming of zombie survival games, it has devolved into a tragicomic farce worthy of an award-winning sitcom.
Let’s rewind the tape: with a trailer so suspiciously polished it looked like it was about to break out into a Broadway musical, “The Day Before” rocketed to the top of Steam wishlists faster than a cat video on the internet. Gamers everywhere rubbed their hands together in giddy anticipation, perhaps envisioning epic zombie battles amid idyllic farmland looting. A dream, right? Wrong! Enter chaos in three, two, one…
What followed was a series of delays that would make even the most patient sloths weep. The game’s developers at the studio Fntastic aimed to deliver a grand experience, only to post not-so-grand updates featuring “volunteers” that seem to have been plucked from the ‘who’s-who of gaming’s worst-kept secrets’ list. It was like watching a magician pull rabbits out of a hat, but instead, it was a bunch of confused hamsters fighting over the last slice of pizza.
As gamers furiously tapped their keyboards in righteous fury, the developers decided the best move was to present a much shoddier gameplay video—one that vanished faster than my will to go to the gym on a Monday morning. But alas, soon the protagonist turned to the most dramatic tool in their toolbox: the heartfelt plea! “Please don’t accuse us of scamming!” they cried, as the Steam review section exploded into a frenzy resembling a cake fight at a five-year-old’s birthday party.
Fast forward to December 7—launch day—where the studio performed the world’s worst magic trick by vanishing entirely in just four days post-release. It seems the studio took ‘disappearing act’ quite seriously, possibly confusing game development with a talent show.
Their CEO, Eduard Gotovtsev, is missing-in-action like an elusive Pokémon. It seems he felt the best strategy for public relations was to delete his Twitter and mute his LinkedIn account—what a bold statement! If only he could have applied some of that stealth to the game release.
If you’ve ever seen a Discord server disintegrate in real-time, you’d feel like a participant in an apocalyptic meltdown. The once-vibrant chats turned into a wasteland faster than a zombie could lose a leg in a marathon, with people behaving like they’d just been hit with a wave of despair-induced insanity—311 disheartened souls watching their favorite game flop like a fish out of water.
And just like that, “The Day Before” transformed from Steam’s darling to the industry’s most embarrassing locker-room tale, proving that no one really sets out to make a bad game. But when you do it this spectacularly, you might just deserve an award—too bad for your trophy collection that it’ll probably just be a consolation ribbon.
So here’s to “The Day Before”: the game industry’s worst criminal mastermind in a spectacular failure, reminding us that in gaming, as in life, sometimes you win, and sometimes you just turn your head and pray no one saw that. Cheers! 🎮💔
🚨 Disclaimer Alert! 🚨
Before you start drafting conspiracy theories on your fridge with magnets—just know this is satire! For the actual, no-nonsense, non-bong-infused version of this news story, head over to , www.pcgamer.com (where facts wear suits and don’t tell jokes).
We highly recommend reading both versions—one for the truth, and one for the chaotic energy you didn’t know you needed. 😆🔥
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