All that stuff you think you know about the birds and the bees is utter nonsense. After all these years and uncomfortable anecdotes with our parents comes the real revelation: those who are ‘up the duff’ simply need to be watered upon and then a beautiful goose will sprout from their belly, pain-free and with smiles all around. At least, that’s what Tingus Goose believes.
Holding a watering can over the missus’ bulge will mean the goose within will rise to meet with its loved one in the sky. No, they aren’t about to die, but that’s how romance works, too. Alas, water isn’t free, and you need money to nurture a child. However, the goose will spout the little blighters (Tingis) out of its mouthhole, allowing you to clickety-click and earn some more pennies to store in an oversized piggybank that rises from the ground. Making sense? Good.
Seeing as you’re with me, the goose’s neck continues to expand with your financial input and spouts further spoils in the way of a new blossom. These are essentially ledges that the Tingis bounce off, blessing you with dosh for every bounce, removing the need for you to click on them. An automated click, if you will. A variety of blossoms then develop, creating all manner of baby parkour.
Each time a Tingi hits one of your blossoms (a mutated goose), you get more money in the bank, so you can click the watering button so your geese can mate. When this happens, the skybound goose will release their beak into the earthbound’s throat. Not gross in the slightest. Anyone else feeling aroused by how Tingus Goose is depicting the mating ritual?
But it doesn’t stop there with the absurdity. After the pregnant chapter, our goose now hatches out of a headless person, seemingly eating dry cereal from the bowl on a park bench. This time around, we have new blossoms that add additional features, all supported by an encyclopedia that details what the blossom does, what your achievements are and so on.
Tingus Goose could be classed as a clicker like Great Hero’s Beard; the surrealism here is absolutely mental, and if you don’t switch it off after the first few minutes because of that, you’ll be itching to find out what new chimaera-bastard will hatch next. I was thinking this only after the first chapter, and when a skill tree is introduced with permanent fixtures such as how Tingi’s evolve and the like, it’s going to be a little hard to put this down. The RSI won’t help, either.
This Tingus Goose review isn’t intentionally cryptic, but these thoughts replicate the actual experience. It’s sheer lunacy, and I love it. The artwork is simple yet cute, the puzzles err more on the casual side as getting Tingis to bounce off a range of goose heads isn’t as complex as it sounds, and the humour is madcap like Kids, or perhaps The Good Time Garden.
However, it’s the concept that really makes this a standout. What’s it all about? The existential question(s). Perhaps you’ll spend a lifetime looking for answers on life, death, and all the fun bits in between and after, but the folks at Sweaty Chair have given you something to ponder: What is the significance of the geese? Do they hold all the answers? Is Doctor Food a real doctor? Where do babies come from? It’s just a click, or two, away…
