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Indie Gaming on the XBox 360

cyrus_zuo writes "Game Tunnel took a look at some of the indie games that will be available when the Xbox 360 launches (through Xbox live). They've posted a summary that breaks down what people can expect from the oft ignored indie side of gaming, in addition to taking a quick shot at HD, calling it a 'marketing term that people have sold out to.'"

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  1. eat this by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    "Mr. Jobs?" the small, tinny voice said through the intercom speaker. "It's Fed-Ex, we got a package for ya."

    "Sure, sure, come on through," Steve said into the little box, his finger depressing a small, shiny brown button. "Let it off next to the gazebo half-way up the drive."

    Steve Jobs smiled so wide his face hurt. The Fed-Ex truck was passing through his gate and would be at the gazebo in his front yard any second now. He stepped through his front door, hopped down his porch steps, and strode down a brick path shaded by willows. Even now he heard a roaring diesel engine and chirping brakes as the dusty delivery truck wandered along his drive. He jumped all three brick steps up to his gazebo and seated himself on a small park bench.

    Steve sighed as he crossed his legs, put his hands behind his head, and waited. The sounds of the Fed-Ex truck were getting closer now among his veritable forest of spruces, pines, and firs that dotted his impossibly large lawn. He'd been waiting for almost a month for this delivery, the culmination of painstaking secret meetings with IBM over the course of 2005. And now Steve was just moments from enjoying the unique fruits of his labors and deal-making.

    Steve's smile grew even larger.

    With a final cacophony of squealing brakes, clinking chains, and grinding gear-shifts, the Fed-Ex truck stopped several yards away from the gazebo, next to another small walk that led from his drive. Steve stood up and waved to them.

    "Hey guys, right here!" he shouted as he descended the steps to the walk.

    Two men emerged from the truck's cab, one looking over a clipboard. The driver was a short, squat man with an orange handlebar mustache that crept down his neck. His name tag was covered in oil and grease and read Grunt. The man with the clipboard was tall and lanky and had a shock of white hair exploding from the back of his dirty, crumpled baseball cap. He had Stretch stitched above his uniform's right breast pocket.

    "Gentlemen, gentlemen!" Steve said, approaching them. He pulled a pen from his pants pocket. "Where do I sign?"

    Stretch looked up from his clipboard at the overenthusiastic middle-aged weirdo standing in front of him.

    "Ah, just sign here, bottom copy's yers," Stretch said, extending the clipboard to Steve.

    Steve barely bothered signing, trailing his pen along the page just hard enough to leave a wavy line, ripped the bottom copy out from the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket, and shoved the paperwork back at Stretch.

    "Can you and you guys dolly it up to the gazebo and leave it there?" Steve asked.

    "Sure thing, mister," Stretch said as he turned towards the back of the truck.

    "And if you and your friend do it quickly and quietly," Steve began, stopping Stretch where he was, "there might be something extra in it for you."

    Steve rubbed his fingers together, implying money.

    Stretch looked at this partner and then back to Steve.

    "We'll gitcha taken care of real quick," he said to Steve, attempting to smile. It didn't look like something he practiced often.

    Minutes later, a large box about the size of a refrigerator stood in the middle of Steve's gazebo. It was plain and unmarked save for some stickers that read THIS SIDE UP and CAUTION: FRAGILE. Steve waved at Grunt as he slowly backed down the drive. Stretch never looked up but was busy counting a small wad of crisp green bills as they edged away.

    Steve walked over to one of the columns of his gazebo and opened what looked like a fuse box. Inside were two black buttons, labeled with two arrows, one pointing up and the other pointing down. He hit the button next to the down-pointing arrow, and the gazebo shook lightly.

    "Finally," Steve said aloud to himself.

    The gazebo dropped completely out of sight and was replaced by a plain concrete court that emerged seconds later from jus