Review: Painkiller: Hell and Damnation

Disclaimer: There is a solid chance, thanks to Steam's constant updating (not to mention the indisputable fact that Steam is simply the human name for a nighmarish labyrinth of blood-filled tubes and downloadable hats from an eternal dimension of meat and howling), that my save file corrupted during the review process. Of course, for a consummate professional, this isn't a problem - it's simply a case of restarting the game from the beginning, relaxing into a £7,000 GameXtreme Hyperthrone and ordering a trusty manservant to fetch another roasted swan neck and towering pile of cocaine, all served from a golden platter hand-polished by the Queen herself. Gor Bless'er.

Unfortunately, given that I am gaming journalism's equivalent of a Dickensian urchin whose daily activities run to nicking handkerchiefs and avoiding Australia, I am in a position where I must review the experience which the game presented to me. Any gaps in my
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