sprunki phase 90
Sprunki Phase 90: Because Why Stop at 89?
Alright, I'll admit it: when I saw "Phase 90" I actually laughed out loud. At my desk. Got a weird look from the guy next to me. Who makes NINETY phases of anything? That's not a game series, that's a compulsive disorder.
But here we are. Sprunki Phase 90 exists. And you know what? It's... actually kind of impressive in its absurdity.
My cousin's kid—ten years old, way too smart for his own good—told me this is his "favorite one." When I asked why, he said "it has more stuff." Can't argue with that logic. There are, like, SO many icons. I didn't even try them all. Ain't nobody got time for that.
Overwhelm Mode: Activated
Remember how I mentioned that "Definitive Original" felt polished? Yeah, forget that. Phase 90 feels like someone threw every sound effect they've ever made into a blender and called it a day. It's chaotic. Messy. Sometimes glorious, sometimes just... noise.
There's a sound in here that genuinely reminds me of my old Nokia phone vibrating on a wooden table. You know that BRRR-BRRR-BRRR? Found it by accident. In slot... 12? 13? Honestly, I lost track. The UI scrolls. THE UI SCROLLS. That's how many options there are.
Q: Can you make actual music with this?
A: Define "music." Can you make organized sound? Yes. Can you make something you'd voluntarily listen to? ...Maybe on a dare.
Q: Is it better than the simpler phases?
A: Depends. If you get overwhelmed by choice (I do, in supermarkets), then no. If you're the type who needs to customize every single setting in a video game before you even start playing, then congratulations, you've found your spiritual browser game.
The "I Have No Idea What I'm Doing" Tutorial
Step 1: Open the game. It loads kinda slow on my laptop, FYI. The fan even whirred a little. Dramatic.
Step 2: Scroll. Just... scroll. See all the little dudes (and dudettes? They're blobs, gender is fluid).
Step 3: Click one. Any one. It makes a sound.
Step 4: Click another. They play together.
Step 5: Keep going until it either sounds good or gives you a headache. For me, that's about 7 clicks. Then my brain taps out.
There's this one icon—looks like a purple star with eyes—that makes a sound I can only describe as "a robot frog having an existential crisis." I love it. I hate it. I keep clicking it.
Personal ranking: The blue swirl thing in the middle row? Top tier. The red triangle that sounds like dial-up internet? Bottom tier. The green... whatever that is? It's fine. I'm indifferent. Like celery.
Weird Things I Noticed
• Some sounds cut off abruptly when you add too many. Like the game goes "NOPE, TOO MUCH, SHUTTING DOWN THIS TRACK."
• The background color shifts slightly as you add more layers. From light blue to... slightly darker blue. Revolutionary.
• I swear one of the characters winks at you if you leave it hovered for 5 seconds. Might be my sleep deprivation.
• No, you can't save. Obviously. That would require effort from the developer. This feels very much like a "I made this in a weekend and uploaded it" situation. Which has its own charm, I guess.
Final Verdict (As If My Opinion Matters)
Phase 90 is the gaming equivalent of a buffet: too many options, you'll probably try a bit of everything, leave feeling overwhelmed, and not remember what half of it tasted like.
But hey, it's free. It's weird. It exists. And in 2024, that's something.
Would I play it again? Maybe when I'm extremely bored and have already refreshed Twitter 15 times. It's a time-filler. A curiosity. A "huh, they really went to phase 90" conversation starter.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go listen to actual music to cleanse my palette. Maybe something with, like, three instruments max. My brain needs a nap.
P.P.S. I just noticed there's a Phase 100 in the keywords list. God help us all.
