An absurd roguelike survival about fighting the runs during working hours. Drink, work, make it to the toilet. Or don't.
WELCOME TO WORK. THE TOILET IS OVER THERE.
You're a handyman. The client left the keys, a task list, and vanished. Paid per job: finish a task, get paid. Don't finish, get nothing.
Problem is, your bowels, your bladder and your sanity showed up to work with you. All three could not care less about your paycheck.
You either make it to the toilet or you crap yourself assembling a cabinet. Both are in the game. One is cheaper.
WHAT'S INSIDE
Run-based roguelike. You die, the points stay. Unlocks between shifts are permanent.
Two unlock modes. Toiletocalypse is pure RNG: either something or nothing. Roguelike lets you pick one of three cards.
Three bars out to finish you off. Water, pressure and sanity. Sanity is your health: drops easily, comes back slowly. Hits zero and the shift is over.
Work and QTEs. There's a task list waiting in the flat. You can drop any job at any moment, because bowels don't negotiate. Want it faster? Trigger a QTE. Just know that walking away mid-QTE has consequences.
Merciless piecework. Points tick in while you work, but cash only comes with full completion.
Always a random start. Random map or a variant of it, randomly scattered items, and only the ones you've managed to unlock.
Hygiene. Wash your hands. Wash yourself. I probably don't need to explain why, do I?
Water quality tiers. Tap, boiled, or straight from the cistern. Bottles and jars for the bad days. The kettle only works if there's power.
Crafting with two hands. No inventory, no menu. You combine whatever you're carrying.
The phone. Delivery shop, upgrades, warnings from management, and cold callers.
Buffs, debuffs and events. Buffs and debuffs are the consequences of your own actions, and they stack and multiply. Events turn your life upside down for a few minutes without asking.
Meds on cooldowns. So you can't just heal on repeat. Plus old unlabeled pills, which are pure roulette.
Chance of a night shift. Dark as hell. Sort out your lighting.
Discovery. Every item, buff and event you find lands in the encyclopedia. At least you know what hit you.
Full gamepad support. Icons switch automatically between PlayStation, Xbox and keyboard.
DRINK. WORK. CRAP. REPEAT.
Water drops, pressure builds, sanity hangs by a thread. Tick tasks off the list: cleaning, mopping, assembling furniture, paperwork. Every job can be sped up with a QTE, so you finish before your body says STOP.
You'll need the cash to survive a shift, because starting items are limited.
WATER IS CURRENCY. PAPER IS TREASURE.
The tap in someone else's flat works fine, until building management shuts the water off. And they will. Then all that matters is the bottles and jars you set aside earlier.
Boil your water. Assuming there's power. Wash the dirty dish before you use it, and your hands after a session on the throne. Plan ahead or suffer.
A SHIFT IS NEVER QUIET
Random events don't ask permission. Power cuts and fuses to fix in the dark. A telemarketer selling insurance against crapping yourself at work, who you need to get rid of before he eats your sanity. Turbo diarrhea. A clogged toilet. Plain bad luck.
And a call from management: "we're cutting the water shortly." You've got 30 seconds. Start pouring.
A BROKEN MIND ISN'T THE END. IT'S A STATISTIC.
There's no winning here, though a shift can be seen through to the end. What there is instead is the grind. Points from every run stay with you and unlock new items, meds, upgrades and events. Yes, you also unlock new ways to suffer.
Shifts run from 10 to 30+ minutes. A short one is a sprint along the edge. A long one is a crisis management marathon.
Official site
On Steam
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