This is an written piece filled with shame and regret, but I’ve made a breakthrough, and damnit, I’m proud of myself! I write this as a form of catharsis, and I’ve come to shout it from the top of the internet roofs: I think I’ve finally broken my addiction to Bloon Tower Defense 6.
Oh, you’re not familiar with Bloon Tower Defense series? With its first installment released in 2007 (holy shiddd) by Ninja Kiwi Games, the Bloon Tower Defense games are a stalwart of the highly-addictive Tower Defense genre. The premise is simple: an enemy is coming to attack you, and you’ve got to install and upgrade a defensive system that will repel waves and waves of your enemies. Enemies may come in the form of medieval knights, bloodthirsty zombies, weird aliens, and yes, fuckin’ BALLOONS.
That’s right, I’ve been addicted to a game where monkeys have to pop a bunch of balloons.
Why are the balloons attacking?!? Why do the monkeys care about balloons?!?! Why do the balloons not float into the sky!??! Who gave the monkeys darts!?!? Is this a situations like the Cars universe, where there is a whole bizarre ecosystem of anthropomorphic creatures that have problems that defy our simple human perception???
I don’t fuckin’ know the answers, but I do know how to pop some goddamn balloons.
DEPLOY THE MONKEYS
A typical game of Bloon Tower Defense works like this: the player starts off with some money, and you’re tasked with using that currency to pay to deploy a monkey to the battlefield. Along a predefined path, dozens of balloons will begin making their way from start to finish, and the monkey(s) have one job: don’t let any balloons off of the map. It’s a simple premise, really, but it gets complicated quickly.
After just a few round, you’re swimming in money, darts, monkeys, and carnage-induced dopamine. Balloons of all shapes and varieties, all with different powers, flow from the start like orcs out of Mordor. Darts are flying everywhere. Sniper monkeys and Ninja monkeys take out darts by the bushel. The Glue Monkey is spraying his load everywhere. There’s a monkey piloting a helicopter and he’s yelling at me “IT’S EASY…DON’T LEAD ‘EM AS MUCH!”
A typical game of Bloon Tower Defense, at any given time, might look something like this:
It was on this very field that my lust for that POP! may have finally, finally been satiated.
Bloon Tower Defense 6, being the finely-tuned bloon-poppin’, chaos-servin’, microtransactionin’ platform that it is, offers up lots of daily challenges, co-op opportunities, and upgradable features. It was just earlier this week that I began playing one of the daily challenges (granted, on Easy mode) that finally broke me.
I didn’t become broken because it was too hard! No! It was because I ascended beyond all levels I thought were possible, and in the end, I found…
Nothing. Nothing at all.
LOOK AT THESE STATS:
Over TWENTY-ONE MILLION BALLOONS POPPED! OVER $218,000 IN MONKEY MONEY COLLECTED! I REACHED ROUND 138!!!
WHAT DID I GET IN RETURN?!?!?
Similar to that post-orgasm shame one feels when masturbating in a sacred place like a JC Penney dressing room or a Chik-Fil-A bathroom, I began to feel an emptiness wash over my filthy, filthy body, I wondered why I had spent the last hour of my life on this dumb, dumb, stupid game. Would the balloons have ever stopped? Or is this just an endless cycle of violence? Did the monkeys view me as their champion, or was I just another simpleton doing their bidding? Ultimately, I’m left with only one real question:
Were the balloons ever a real threat, or was this all monkey propaganda?
I guess I’ll find out when Bloon Tower Defense 7 rolls out.