Gridlee is… I don’t know what the hell Gridlee is.

The good news is that only one cabinet is known to exist, and it belongs to some hippy named Dale Luck. Why is that good news? Because this game is a piece of garbage, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why anyone would have created it.


Of course. How did I not see this sooner? It’s so obvious that perhaps that’s where lies the deception.

Gridlee, you sly little pooch. You’re a digital zoetrope used to seduce unsuspecting victims into your Ponzi scheme, aren’t you? You little sneaky Pete. Well, I won’t have any part of it!

You know, this reminds me of the time I was sailing one of the seven seas and ran into a school of mermaids. They were singing a siren song that would induce a hypnotic state and lull the listener into chanting their credit card numbers aloud. The mermaids would then take this information and go on vigorous online shopping sprees at, buying large swaths of rubber bed sheets. They were habitual bed-wetters, you see.

If it hadn’t been for my trusty sidekick, Lord Hardswallow, who resorted the the age-old tactic of filling my ears with cotton, I would not have made it out of that one with my credit score intact.

Nice try, mermaids.

And so I say to you, Gridlee, and to all the Gridlees of the world: Grow up, cut your hair, put down the dope, and get a job. This ain’t 1983, and I’m not Videa.

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