Gamespulp condenses Red Dead Redemption’s story to its bare bones.
Old-school cowboy, John Marston, plays whipping boy to a couple of federal dickheads who hold Marston’s family. Welcome to the vicious old west, full of nutball’s and crims. You’ll like it here. The path to New Austin is one of regret and redemption. And animals to kill and skin. A lot of animals to kill and skin.
Meet hot farmer’s daughter, Bonnie, and beat her denimed ass in a horse race. Herd cows again and again and again. Bonnie sure is a sweet girl, but Marston’s keen to remind her and literally everyone else that he’s married to a plain Jane (probably not called Jane). Run errands for a lazy sheriff and his two deputies who probably fuck the cows you herd. Six-gun bastards in the face. Bonnie’s done gone git herself hanged. Marston’s unlikely dead eye saves her and she falls in love, never to really be heard of again.
Meanwhile, collect zany crew of psychopaths to exact revenge (read: Chillingly brutal murder) on former partner. Cowboy! That moment when Marston enters Mexico. Clint Eastwood ain’t got shit on John, who chases quests from a pissant tyrant and the sympathetic villagers, because politics is satirically black and white south of the border. Anyway, it’s all bit Magnificent 7. Gun down another ex-partner, whose name doesn’t really matter, earning a pat on the back from the feds. Fuck around for a few hours. Fight bears.
And it’s that beautiful moment as you gently ride home, filled with joy that Marston can finally see his famil… Cougar’d. Spend way too much time with your charmless son, teaching him how to hunt, bonding with the unlikeable twat when all Marston probably wants to do is stalk the last buffalo and kill cheating poker players and other wastrel bounties.
Then those mother-lovin’ feds return just in case anyone doesn’t realise that they’re the bad guys, and Marston stupidly neglects to shoot them both in the face. That final blazing shootout. Revenge is sweet, even when it’s served by a dish that’s cold. Lay Marston’s hand on a dead man’s gun.
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