Distressed Schedule I NPCs plead for aid as persistent dealer harasses them while compiling data sheets.

People often get snarky about Reddit but I consider the work of user _inferno_44 to be better games journalism than anything I’ve written in at least a month, probably longer. Three colour coded spreadsheets blocking out three Schedule I NPC’s daily routines, ox watchin‘ style. Cheers, Persil XL 3-In-1 Washing Capsules Gamer.

They’re surprisingly detailed for something that’s mainly there to get you to hoof around a bit. Plus fixed routines are just good world building for a weed selling simulation such as this. They raise pertinent questions. Does the forbidden spinach blur the ache of sharp routine like existential Alka Seltzer? Or does it encourage such contemplation as to appreciate the hidden rapture in the familiar?

Might we imagine Kyle pressing a soft taco shell against his cheek and feeling, for all the world, like he is being caressed by the glove of creation? His is one of the less varied routines, moving mainly between work and home save a half hour break the skatepark. Still, there’s nobility in it, I think. Perhaps we’ve been misled. Perhaps this was the titular Schedule all this time.

Less industrious is Kyle’s roommate, Austin, who splits his time between the community centre and the arcade. At 6:00pm each day, he leaves the arcade and furiously drinks for 45 minutes before returning. I get it, man. It’s acutely embarrassing to boast to a stranger that you can “beat Time Crisis in one life” only to repeatedly get your bottom mailed to you by a cabinet tuned far harder than the PS1 version. I’d drink too. Heck, I’m drinking now just thinking about it, and also because it makes my breakfast taste better.

Most varied is fan fave product hound Jessi, who visits four separate locations to sit and smoke and consume canned beverages. Like all the NPCs, she walks in real time between destinations. I’ve been fascinated by this stuff since Oblivion blew my tiny mind when I spotted an NPC’s marker move across the map to the destination I was told to meet him at. I can’t say it still feels quite as magical as it did then, but it’s still retained some wonder for me. Another reminder that there’s more going on under the hood in Schedule I than its sudden explosion of memey popularity might suggests. And an extra reminder, for myself more than anything, that sometimes a lot of people like a thing because it’s actually good, you shrivelling hipster.

I mean, rarely, but still.