Sprunki Phase 1.75 remix
Phase 1.75 Remix. The Name Says It All.
This isn't a proper phase. It’s a detour. A “what-if” scenario someone baked in their basement and uploaded at 3 AM. I have no idea who made this or why it exists, and that's precisely why I love it. It's the bootleg cassette tape of the Sprunki world.
If you've played the clean, straightforward Phase 1... forget all that. This is like Phase 1 got into the wrong mushrooms. The visuals are slightly distorted, the colors are off—everything has a greenish or purplish tint depending on... something. Mood? Time of day? Who knows.
I played this last night when I couldn't sleep. Big mistake or brilliant idea? Still deciding. It's not relaxing, but it’s captivating in a “watching a car crash in slow motion” way. The sounds are familiar yet... wrong. Pitch-shifted. Sometimes they cut off a millisecond too early. It’s jarring, but intentionally? Feels like it.
Discovery Through Confusion
There’s no guide. No logic. The “three-icon challenge” is meaningless here because half the fun is seeing which combination will cause the most delightful audio trainwreck. I dragged the wobbly circle onto the shaky square while the zigzag line was active, and it produced a sound I can only describe as “a robot bee trapped in a fax machine.” It was glorious. I laughed out loud. My cat looked concerned.
What’s the average play session? For me, it was about 15 minutes of pure, unadulterated “what the heck is going on” before my brain needed a break. It’s not a game you “play.” It’s an experience you “submit to.”
So What Makes It Unique?
Everything. And nothing. It takes the foundational pieces of early Sprunki and deliberately warps them. How many audio layers can you mix? Technically, the same as the base game. In practice, it feels like more because the layers interfere with each other in weird, resonant ways. You get accidental harmonies and brutal dissonance from the same actions.
Here’s my hottest take: This is closer to experimental art than a game. It removes the goal of “making a good beat” and replaces it with “see what happens.” There’s a hidden character—or maybe it’s a glitch sprite—that only appears if you click the exact center of the screen five times fast. It looks like a scribble and sounds like radio static. Is it supposed to be there? No clue. I love it.
Don’t come here looking for the polished fun of Phase 4 or the expansive options of Pyramixed. Come here when you’re bored of all that. Come here when you want to remember that sometimes, digital things can be beautifully, fascinatingly broken.
It’s a piece of fringe internet history. A digital cult artifact. It probably won’t be updated next year. It might not even be online next month. That makes playing it now feel special, in a weird, melancholic way.
Rating? I refuse to rate it. It exists outside the scale. 10/10 for existing. 2/10 for being a “good game.” Make of that what you will.
Just... try it. Once. Report back if you figure out what the blinking light in the background means. I think it’s Morse code for “help.”
