Whether it’s as a rolling agglomerate that gathers mass, a world-swallowing hole, or simply a humble goose, terrorising peaceful folk on a whim is always entertaining. And now it’s possible to carry out misdeeds as a nightmarish, infinitely elongating arm, engaging in the kinds of activities that would guarantee Mr Tickle an appearance in court.
Jackbox Games’ first foray into publishing an external studio’s title, My Arms Are Longer Now is the debut project from Toot Games, an Australian indie studio founded by Matthew Jackson and Millie Holten, who met in the Melbourne comedy scene a decade or so ago. Described in the press release as “a grotty 2D comedy” (which, incidentally, is also my Tinder bio), initial dalliances suggest the game lives up to every aspect of that promise.
As a lengthening limb, your job is to nick anything within reach, which is most things, really, and amass cash (presumably to fuel your terrible sleeve habit). You can move along the ground or raise up like a cobra and drape yourself over objects, and while smaller stuff will immediately convert into currency, bigger spoils will need to be dragged back to the start of the level.
Helpfully, you’re able to quickly retract like a vacuum power cord, but you’ll still need to be mindful of obstacles and people. This problem is complicated by the fact that, as a boneless bad dream, you can snake and wrap yourself around anything, which includes the individual legs of the chairs in the train carriage that serves as the game’s first level. In order to get back to the start you’ll have to undo the tangle. It’s possible for the level to end up looking like a tree festooned with toilet paper – you know, if the toilet paper was loose skin – and the circuitous route that seemed sensible on the way in will suddenly feel less prudent when you’re trying to get a large suitcase through the loop of a carriage’s hanging strap.
The ultimate goal of this train level is to steal an important-seeming locked suitcase that is handcuffed to its extremely anxious owner, but as they’re sat in the furthest carriage along you first need to find a way to reach them. The first carriage is simple enough to negotiate, but a ticket inspector who boards will take issue with you getting in his way (but not repeatedly slapping all of his customers, oddly) and if you’re noticed you get sent back a few feet. Your options are to go around him or stretch across his path and tighten like a tripwire, buying you a little time to grab the train carriage key that falls out of his pocket while he sobs. You can slap a few more commuters on the way, too.
The second carriage has fallen into disrepair, with a cash machine blocking the way forward, and is otherwise empty except for a pigeon. Grabbing three pigeons is one of the level’s optional tasks, and you’ll find another bird after you snake out of the broken window and up onto the top of the carriage. There’s also another secondary objective up here: a naked goblin-like pest, clinging on for dear life, who keeps talking about how they don’t have much grip due to being wet, and something about being more likely to fall if you don’t stop slapping them.
The next destination is the train driver’s cabin, where you’ll find the third pigeon and a big red ‘Stop’ button. Hitting this briefly slams on the brakes, shifting the ATM and allowing access to the carriage nestled between the hovel one and the driver’s compartment. This also happens to be where the woman with the suitcase is trying to get some kip, but as she has a nervous disposition, another passenger’s barking dog keeps waking her up with a start.
How are we going to rifle through her pockets for a key to the handcuffs if she won’t stay asleep? The natural solution is to steal the dog, dragging it ominously back while its former owner tells you how he spent his life savings on the creature. You can’t just chuck the dog out of the window, by the way – I checked. After that it’s a simple case of grabbing the key, freeing the briefcase, and whipping it back to the start of the level to complete it.
The whole affair is intermittently narrated by the same woman recounting her experience of the thieving arm to a detective at some point later that day. There’s a really nice improvisational comedic style to all of the game’s dialogue that is by turns reminiscent of Auntie Donna’s output and Coal Supper’s Thank Goodness You’re Here (a game with a similarly dark, impish sense of humour).
As the demo only includes the first level of the game, it’s difficult to judge the level of challenge Toot Games is aiming for. The penalty for getting ‘caught’ by the conductor is more pesky than punitive, and for the most part during this first level the game feels more concerned with making you laugh (which it is very good at) than with impeding your progress. It will be interesting to see if this balance sets the tone for the whole game, or if later levels will require you to worry more about patrolling whistleblowers or even become more concerned with the length of floppy jumper snake you leave in your wake. I’m also intrigued to see whether the plural in the title is a hint at more complicated multi-limb heists to come.
But primarily, I just want to meet more of the characters that inhabit the slightly grimy, interactive Where’s Wally tableaux that make up My Arms Are Longer Now’s universe. It’s a wilfully unhinged game from a developer whose logo is a naked farting man. The world is healing.
