I have a fox’s head and too many eyes. I’m wearing an ugly yellow tank top, and I have ugly tattoos. I’m also a mechanic, and I’m taking over Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop, where the last mechanic has died – seemingly stabbed in the back.
When I arrive in a rocket, the guy who runs the cafe, Droose, tells me that my first task will be to jettison my predecessor into space. I go into the basement, pick the corpse up, and toss him into the pod. Droose yelps for me to hold on – he’s holding a manual that is probably important. I pry the book out of his arms, then flip a bunch of switches on the pod’s control panel. Off he goes into the sun.
A Day In The Life
The next day, my first shift starts. A floating hologram of my corporate overlord, a pig in a cap named Uncle Chop, tells me I have two days till I have to pay rent. I accept a job at the phone booth, and get to the items on my checklist. It’s menial repair work, but I don’t know how to do anything. I flip frantically through the manual, guided by symbols on the various panels I have to access. I fill my inventory with machine parts, trying to arrange them in the tray as efficiently as possible so I have everything I need while also having room for more.
I refuel ships: lift the fuel covers, use a level to push the fuel canisters out of their divots, unbolt them from their holders, use more levers to tilt them towards me so I can take them out, run to the refuelling station, fill them up with the correct fuel type, then run back and do it all in reverse to install them.
I change the oil, which is more complicated. I have to vent heat, otherwise any canister I attach will explode. If the heat isn’t venting, I have to replace the heat sink. If the display is jittery, I have to replace its stack of chips. I need to fill the oil between a maximum and minimum level, or I’ll be penalised. If the oil won’t fill, I have to make sure the gas pump is on and working.
I unscrew panels, dragging my mouse across my table. I loosen bolts, making my desk shake as I ratchet my wrench furiously. I click and drag levers, flip switches, snip wires. I start to sweat. I have eight minutes a day to do as many jobs as I can, and I’m falling behind.
The next day, I start my shift. A guy, who’s clearly never killed anyone before, asks me if I could be kind enough to put his calling card in my pocket before he shoots me. Then he realises he can just do it after. A bullet makes my head explode. I wake up in Limbo, a hazy red space. There’s nothing here but a spider-god holding a scythe, who greets me and opens up a glowing door back to the real world. He kisses me and tells me to make him proud. I go back to my first day.
Die, Die, And Die Again
Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop melds two unlikely genres: the roguelite and the simulator. There are so many ways to die – I’ve been blown up by pipe bombs, sniped from afar, crushed by a rocket, nuked by a reactor, and shot by a burglar. Many of those were in the course of work, while others were because I didn’t make rent.
All of them were preventable, but I hadn’t known how to counter them at the time. Every death sent me back to the start, armed with more knowledge. I know which workshop modules to buy first, where to place them for maximum efficiency, and what upgrades are most useful early in the game. I know how to disarm pipe bombs now, which customers to avoid, and the importance of making rent at all costs. 17 runs in, I don’t need to flip through my manual that much anymore, but the game still finds ways to surprise me.
There’s a lot of variety within the game’s repair tasks. For example, repairing the VR module will send you into some kind of unsettling 3D simulation where you complete a basic task, and every instance is a head-scratcher. There’s even three platformer levels you need to complete to fix the Tomfoolery module.
It throws bosses at me – yes, this game has bosses, in the form of really difficult repair jobs with consequences that may give you a panic attack if you’re prone to anxiety and vulnerable to customers yelling at you. It randomises jobs, so you never really know what any day is gonna bring. Every time you get further than you did last time, you’re forced to learn something new, and you’ll probably screw it up the first time. Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop is merciless, but not unfair. You’ll figure it out with time and patience, and the dopamine rush you get from completing a difficult repair for the first time is incredible.
It also helps that you can buy perks that carry over from run to run. You can get a currency called omens that you put into a magical jukebox under the basement, which will unlock perks like faster movement time, upgraded tools at the start of runs, and lessened penalties for breaking stuff.
But apart from the gameplay, Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop is an absolute joy to play. Its irreverent humour is pitch perfect, framing the eldritch as everyday with aplomb. A giant deformed deer descends from the sky every now and then to offer me omens in exchange for time – nobody ever says anything about how weird it is. Just part of the job, I guess. It has gorgeous details and secrets to discover, and I’m sure I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of what it has to offer. The cartoony art style is gorgeous. There’s a wealth of lore about the game’s factions that I haven’t fully unearthed.
Roguelites usually frustrate me, but I’ve never once wanted to rage quit Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop. Whether it’s the fact that I’m armed with new knowledge, I’ve got new perks to push me further, or it’s just that Droose has gently encouraged me to keep going, I can’t stop playing Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop. I want to find all its secrets and once, just once, manage a perfect run. I’ll probably have to finally figure out what to do about exploding nuclear reactors first, though.
Reviewed on PC.
- Released
- 2024-11-0
- Developer
- Beard Envy
- Publisher(s)
- Kasedo Games
- Moment to moment gameplay is compelling and absorbing
- Every loop feels different from the others because of randomisation and secrets you can uncover
- Beautiful art and world-building
- I can?t stop playing it. Someone please help.