Editor's note: Poor Brett Bates. We gave him a copy of Rhythm Heaven and it ruined his life. Now he'd like to give you the game, so it can ruin yours. It's like the monkey's paw of Bitmob! -Demian

[Update: Sorry, folks, the contest is over. Congrats to Toby Davis!]

As some of you may recall, I won Rhythm Heaven in a contest last week. At the time, I thought that my winning was a wonderful thing. I mean, a free game! Who wouldn't be excited about that? But what I didn't realize was that Rhythm Heaven sprang forth from a circle of hell so heinous that not even Dante himself would venture into it. It's bar none the toughest game I've ever played. Worse, it kicks your ass and then lets you know how much you suck.

Rhythm Heaven starts out innocently. The first level simply makes you flick bolts in a factory to create some sort of widget -- in retrospect, I'm thinking maybe an iron maiden? -- in time to the beat. On my initial try, I struggled to perform the proper flicking action and failed. Fair enough: it often takes time to acclimate to the controls of a new game, especially when the game is stylus-based. So I gave it another shot. This time I felt more in step with the beat, but I still messed up a few times. Failure. I tried again. Epic fail. Tried again. Fail again! Finally, on my fifth attempt, the game grudgingly informed me that I was "just OK" and could go to the next level. In response I leapt off the couch and pumped the air with my fist. "Hell yes!" I shouted. "I'm 'OK'!" I don't think I've ever been so excited for someone to tell me I'm merely average.

The pattern continued. Level after level socked me in the gut, kneed me in the groin, clocked me so hard with a roundhouse punch that I saw stars. To add insult to injury, levels openly mocked me as I failed them. In Glee Club, my fellow glee club members shot me dirty looks every time I messed up the harmony -- even though I felt I nailed it! In Fan Club, monkeys scowled at me if I didn't do a flip with precision timing. In Moai Doo-Wop, the game literally crapped on my character's head every time I made a mistake. When I did "pass" a level and earned an OK stamp, it felt less a reflection of my talents than a pity prize, like a teacher letting the sullen kid who's obviously getting swirlies every day at recess take home the class gerbil for the weekend. Some consolation. Plus, the game could barely hide its contempt. "Well, I guess you kicked enough gophers to save this year's crop," it sighed in Crop Stomp. "Hm, I suppose you killed enough rhythm-inclined aliens that at least some of humanity will survive," it sneered in Shoot-'Em-Up. Comments like these are supposed to encourage me to keep playing?

I've tried all sorts of methods to improve my skills: playing with my eyes closed to focus on the music, using headphones, laying the DS flat on my desk. Nothing works. The game is simply a spiteful imp intent on destroying the very concept of fun. You know that TV ad with Beyoncé smiling and laughing, having a grand old time with Rhythm Heaven? I guarantee you if that commercial was any longer than 30 seconds you'd see her throw the DS across the room.

So Shoe, I'm grateful to have won your contest, and I hope the Bitmob crew continues to find fun ways to give away the schwag it comes across. But man, Rhythm Heaven is a malicious little bugger of a prize. It has defeated me. Which is why, in the spirit of how I got the game in the first place, I'm going to give it away here on Bitmob -- before I do myself, my loved ones, or my DS any harm.

Think you can do better? Think I'm just another gangly white guy with no rhythm? Here's your chance to prove me wrong: Mention "Steve Wozniak" somewhere in your comment and I'll randomly give one of you the cursed game. As an added bonus, I won't delete my saved game, so you'll already have a bunch of levels unlocked. But don't say I didn't warn you.