The Fiction

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The whole game thinks it’s a movie—and honestly, it kind of is. Every floor, every NPC, every ridiculous plot twist is “inspired” by real films and filmmakers, from Quetzalcoatl Tarantino to Maria Scorsese—close enough to sue, but not quite.

The story gleefully borrows, steals, and reinvents movie clichés in the true Tarantino spirit of cinematic theft, mixed with the absurd slapstick logic of ZAZ.

The towering skyscraper of Hollywood Hell stands as a monument to corporate greed and creative decay—Dante’s Inferno reimagined as a nine-story production office where every floor is another bad decision that somehow made it past the studio execs.

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The language

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The game’s UI proudly looks like it was designed by an unpaid intern in 1998—but don’t worry, it actually works. It borrows all the ugly charm of bad PowerPoint slides, Windows ’89 menus, and the eternal sin of Comic Sans, yet it’s still perfectly legible and functional.

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The game’s visual style is a love letter to the 90s—grainy, slightly desaturated, and just the right amount of VHS hangover.

It uses comic-style shaders with flat colours and bold outlines, making every scene feel like a graphic novel that forgot to take itself too seriously.



The low-poly look isn’t just nostalgia—it’s deliberate, a reminder that the corporate world is as fake and plastic as its smiling posters.

Throughout the skyscraper, you’ll spot movie references everywhere—from Batman shadows to Pit and the Pendulum nods—appearing as public-domain posters, reinterpretations, and cheeky tributes that parody without crossing the legal line.

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I am doing the world a favour by removing you, from it.