GameSpot gave Wild Bastards a 9/10 because apparently a busy ruleset is now a retirement plan.

The math aint mathing. GameSpot's review of Wild Bastards reads like someone fed a strategy guide, a roguelite glossary, and a cowboy pun generator into a salad spinner full of embargo notes, then called the confetti 'analysis.' A 9/10 is supposed to be reserved for the nearly exceptional, not for 'I enjoyed each showdown no matter its composition' followed three miles later by 'the social system left me a bit confused.' That is not a score; that is a ruler made of soup measuring a horse wearing sunglasses.

The review spends paragraph after paragraph lovingly cataloging mechanics like a tax auditor inventorying a wizard's garage: planets, beans, grudges, posse members, teleporters, bosses, stamina, cards, social links, and one apparently militarized horse. Fine. Detail is good. But detail is not judgment. If I ask whether dinner was good and you describe the spoon for twelve minutes, I am allowed to suspect the chef is hiding in the pantry with a Metacritic bonus. This piece confuses abundance with excellence so hard it should be legally required to wear a calculator helmet.

Then we reach the deductions, which arrive like tiny decorative speed bumps on a freeway built entirely out of praise. The social system is unclear. The ending is anticlimactic. The final act does not push the envelope. And somehow the number at the end is still 9/10, which means GameSpot's scale has become a trampoline: criticism lands on it, makes a funny squeak, and launches the score safely back into the clouds. If 'confusing systems' plus 'flat finale' equals nine, then what does ten require, the game personally doing your taxes while apologizing to your father?

This is the classic GameSpot number crime: the prose admits uncertainty, the score pretends certainty, and the reader is left holding a spreadsheet that smells faintly of barbecue sauce. Delaney may genuinely love the game, but the review's arithmetic is wearing novelty boots. A tighter critic would explain why the flaws do not matter; this one just keeps adding systems until the objections disappear under the pile like a raccoon buried in board-game tokens. We give this review a 3/10: enthusiastic, informative, and numerically about as stable as a ladder made of cooked spaghetti.