Today I watched a trailer where in the first 10 seconds a [[link]] ‘90s-style 3D model of a businessman kickflips a dolphin in slowmo over the flashing words "ASSET FLIP". Such was the pull of this spectacle that I immediately went to Steam and downloaded , a game whose opening gambit to potential players is "Do YOU have mad spreadsheet skills?"
I like to think that I do, in fact, have a few spreadsheet moves that can impress the kids. But Spreadcheat is a little bit of a Trojan horse. It promises you the spreadsheet life, but in fact this is a deeply odd and funny puzzle game about life in a bro-driven ‘90s business, where first of all the boss wants to know if you're "cool", and then you have to cleanse his PC of ads for hot local singles and free PalmPilots with your "geek thing".
Soon enough I've fiddled various figures I don't understand, accidentally fired half the accounting department, and am investigating an upgrade to my business card: apparently "Eggshell White" makes the numbers look "cool and legitimate." I'm tidying away the blow-up dolls from my boss's late night hijinks before slamming together a Powerpoint about how "innovation is in our DNA" and making the words rotate [[link]] and zoom on a background of stars. I've finally got a real job!
The demo lets you go through around half an hour of the game, and I guess I'd compare it to something like sudoku. The spreadsheet puzzles start simple, but I struggled with the final one before understanding the functions, so presumably the full game will put up a decent challenge.
The question really with Spreadcheat is whether you dig the vibe, which is slightly lurid and surreal gags about business and accounting while you're being pestered by a Clippy knock-off pencil (Corpy). In its current form, Corpy is following my mouse cursor outside of the game window and hovering above the article I'm writing about it, asking if I need help. Bug or feature, that's a winner.
The [[link]] full-fat game and will release early next year, promising to deliver the glorious "aesthetic pleasure of the ultimate ‘90s operating system" complete with MIDI music and "256 sparkling colors"—as well as those "hilarious e-mail attachments" we all remember so well. God, that does take me back.
The final word goes to Spreadcheat's producer, who really does know how to sell this thing. "While other kids were dreaming of spaceships, I was dreaming of spreadsheets," says Jack Kristofferson. "Who needs rocket science when you have conditional formatting?"