TL;DR: 4 games. 3 heartbreaks. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some mo' potent than others.

I looted Da Grizzled yesterdizzle on a whim yo. Heard dat shiznit was a solid co-op n' tha art is just dunkadelic, especially since dat shiznit was done by Tignous, a French ballistical satirist whoz ass took a dirt nap durin tha Charlie Hebdo attacks. Da tagline "Can Friendshizzle be stronger than War?" resonates powerfully wit tha message tha creators intended fo' tha game.

For all y'all whoz ass don't know, there's two pilez of cards: Da Trials deck, n' tha Morale deck. Each turn, fo' every last muthafuckin card our crazy asses have up in hand, we move dat nuff number of cardz from tha Morale pile ta tha Trials pile, wit a minimum of 3. If tha Morale deck eva runs out, you all lose. In these cards, there be Trial Cards n' Hard Knocks. If a soldier has 4 Hard Knocks afta resolvin tha Support phase n' you lose.

I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah hoe n' I played 4 two playa game todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! Here's how tha fuck it went.

Game 1 (20 cards): Us thugs won. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Plain n' simple. We felt good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! We gots cocky. Us thugs was so young.

Game 2 (24 cards): This game took considerably longer than tha first. We failed tha straight-up original gangsta mission, leadin our asses ta caution, which inevitably hustled ta our eventual defeat yo. Here's the aftermath. Notice mah soldier, Gustave Bidau yo. Hardheadednizz was always his weakness; his schmoooove ass could never rid his dirty ass of his headstrong nature, never leavin tha battlefield until every last muthafuckin last threat was thoroughly dealt with. When Anselme Perrin became a absent-minded mute, Gustave knew he needed ta take control of tha thang, thus Tyrannical. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. But like nuff tyrantz of history, panic n' pride swung violently up in his crazy-ass mind like a rogue pedulum. Dat shiznit was near tha end of tha war dat they hope fo' peace would never reach fruition. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da bitin blizzardz never left his thugged-out lil' psyche, n' da thug was lost.

Game 3 (24 cards): Our thugged-out asses hoped ta redeem ourselves. Nope.

Game 4 (22 cards): Again, our crazy asses hoped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! We even put up in less cardz up in tha Trials pile. Unfortunately fo' mah hoe, our trip of duty would end astonishingly abrupt. Oh, Felix Mo'au, you naive fool. Da missions was hit n' miss yo, but tha end was definitely up in sight. Two, maybe three mo' missions. Over time, Felix became terrified of tha dark. Not knowin what tha fuck ta expect, n' instead of takin tha reigns like Gustave did 2 game ago, Felix gots sloppy yo. Dude knew he'd gotta retreat fo' tha time bein yo, but da perved-out muthafucka slipped up fo' realz. A stray cap up in tha night n' da thug was down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. My fuckin playa tried ta save his ass yo, but our dummy playa was outta support options yo. Dude could only reach mah dirty ass. 59 cards. Well shiiiit, it could've been anythang else. But instead, dat biiiiatch was sniped wit a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass blasted up in tha dark.

As a cold-ass lil co-op game, tha concept is simple. Don't git mo' than 2 of any color or shape. Complete missions. Run up tha deck.

But tha stories dis game could tell. My fuckin god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! If anythang else, try dis game just ta peep what tha fuck different kindz of stories could be pulled outta these 59 cards. Yo ass realize tha feelin of camaraderie n' support is tha core of what tha fuck tha creatorz of Da Grizzled was attemptin ta emulate. Da empathy, tha heartbreak, tha struggle ta survive. It's amazing.

Thanks fo' reading.

edit: formatting