I don't want to come off sounding jaded or anything, but I've seen a lot of bad games. Yes, I've been fortunate enough to review games like Wing Commander III, Master of Orion, and Doom II, but I've also had to slog through some of the most inane, insulting products ever to appear on software store shelves. The Lawnmower Man? Played it. Rise of the Robots? Done it. Creature Shock? Made me abuse NyQuil to avoid putting my fist through the monitor. Some games make me wonder why I get paid for this job, and others urge me to demand a 200% raise. A friend of mine who has a more "normal" job once told me that playing the worst game in the world is better than flipping burgers. He was right, but not by a wide margin.

	Most really bad games leave me filled with hate, disgust, and outrage. I'm angry that some money-grubbing geeks in brown suits tried to pass off Crap Game X as something worth any amount of money, offended that someone thought I could find any entertainment value in this bogus thing, and just generally annoyed that I had to waste my time playing it, 'cause it ain't be no fun. That was how I expected to feel when I sat down to play Virtuoso, the first game from PC newcomers Vic Tokai (unfortunately for them). It didn't happen, not because the game wasn't bad – because it is – but because it was so bad it was actually funny. I laughed at it. Not with it, not near it, not even toward it, but AT it. Virtuoso is ludicrously awful from start to finish. I expected a bad game, but what I got was beyond bad. What I got was a comical disgrace.

	Virtuoso is a Doom clone. Actually, that's giving it a little too much credit. It's more of an Operation: Body Count clone. Wolfenstein 3D probably had more style and finesse after the first week of work on it than Virtuoso has in its finished form. But maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself here. To truly appreciate Virtuoso as a bad game, its premise has to be addressed. Here it is: you're this Rock Dude. A professional musician (a virtuoso, no less), and you've grown tired of the loud music, the legions of clamoring adoring fans, and especially the buxom young groupies who'd do ANYTHING to get on the tour bus with you. (I know that kind of life sure turns MY stomach!) So far it sounds like "Pink Floyd – The Wall," doesn't it? But wait, there's a twist – VIRTUAL REALITY. That's right, the catch phrase people just can't get enough of is back to help sell another game! Unhappy Rock Dude that you are, you decide to take a virtual vacation to get a little virtual excitement by shooting at some virtual enemies in one of three virtual scenarios. Sound stupid? It is!

	To the best of my knowledge, Virtuoso is the first and (with any luck) only third-person first-person shooter. Your Rock Dude self is visible on the screen, as if you were viewing the action from a video camera just behind and above him. (That's about how involved you'll feel.) You see yourself as a poorly-digitized guy with a leather jacket and big hair; you look like Jon Bon Jovi in 16 colors. There's absolutely no point to any of this – it only makes your character that much more difficult to control. (Sometimes I actually had to wonder what it was I was shooting at because my pixelated hair was in the way.) I have come to the conclusion that the only reason Virtuoso was done in this manner is so that the people at Vic Tokai could prove to us all that they know how to digitize actors. Yeah, well I know how to Xerox my butt, too. I don't see THAT popping up in any games, though.

	Stupid concept. Stupid perspective. But how does it PLAY? Well, lemme tell ya. Control sucks. When you turn you turn in big blocks, no subtlety whatsoever. You can't run. You can't dodge side to side. You can't move forward or backward while firing your weapon. (For some reason you carry two guns but only fire one of them. I think this is some kind of Spinal Tap armadillo-in-trouser hang-up.) When close to a wall you slide along with your back up against it, but you can't shoot or move backward; you actually have to turn away from the wall and walk forward to get your weapons abilities back. You don't have an automap, but you can collect a complete level map, which usually happens about 30 seconds into the level. You aren't likely to need it though, because most of the levels in Virtuoso only have one path from start to finish; you may come across a few nooks and crannies, but they're either dead ends or just lead you back to the same path. To top it all off, you'll be "fighting" some of the most unfrightening (and when I say "unfrightening" I mean crabs, seagulls, and snowmen) and STOOOOOPID monsters ever seen; most of them can't even shoot – they just sort of shamble toward you and cause you damage by passing through your body.

	But what about the graphics?

	Ugly.

	But what about the sounds?

	Two words: Super Friggin' Mario Brothers.

	From a critical standpoint, Virtuoso is, by a fair margin, the worst Doom clone I have ever seen. But it transcends badness to become what few other computer games have aspired to: camp. Virtuoso has the same sort of unintentional appeal as "Plan 9 From Outer Space" or "Reefer Madness." The only difference is that those movies are fun to watch again and again. Virtuoso wears out its laughs after ten minutes or so. It's unfortunate that Vic Tokai had to debut with such an abysmally tragic excuse for a game. I have a feeling it'll be a long time before they live this one down.