As if one's very brains were in a bucket of pwn.
A joyride through the walls of the generally accepted flash game formula. The tyres are made of lollerskates, the brakes are far too busy smashing into assorted vistas from non-Newtonian platforms,
and the driver keeps on rowing,
and he's certainly not showing
any signs that he is slowing.
I'd give you a high 10 for this, but the jokes are so high-brow that anything going above such facial features would result in an existential crisis, as I'm sure that The Universe doesn't stretch that far.
I should know; Bob Geldof told me. He lives under the garden fence.
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