I’m desperately ill right now. Maybe that’s why I find Frog Fractions – an edutainment game spoof that’s far, far, far, far, far, far more than it seems – so hilarious. It’s very difficult to discuss much of it without spoiling the bounty of… knowledge it aims to impart unto the universe, but I’ll do my best. I’ll keep things pure for front-pagers, though, and take it past the break – aka, the place where innocence is lost.
Frog Fractions begins as a simple bug-eating, fruit-defending thing, so I initially didn’t get what all the fuss was about. And then I installed lock-on targeting. In a frog. Soon, I was riding atop one of those dragons you see in Chinese New Year festival parades. After that, well, let me just put it this way: it is possible to afford Chinese New Year festival dragon warp drive. You just have to think outside the box. Once you’ve managed that, Frog Fractions actually begins.
HERE IS THE PART YOU SHOULD PLAY INSTEAD OF READING ABOUT. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.
The ensuing journey led my amphibious antihero across the grand expanses of time, space, bizarre dialog choices, art game parodies, text adventures, Dance Dance Revolution, and just about anything else you (and presumably, its creators) can think of. If you put Frog Fractions under a microscope, its DNA would be made up of kitchen sinks.
So go! Play it! It’s super ambitious and trippy and dumb and brilliant. Also, free. And eventually, there’s even a part where you kind of need to understand a little bit of math. They really thought of everything, huh?