Welcome to the final installment of the Braid Edition of the Bitmob Game Club!

In this third entry of the Game Club's coverage of Braid (check out part one, and part two), three Bitmobbers finish dissecting the latest community-selected subject. And it's a doozy. Discussions abound, and they range in topic from the creation of the atomic bomb, Mario and Princess Peach, and Home Improvement.

As a last thought, Braid is one of my favorite titles, and it was my pleasure to put together this version of the Game Club. But enough with that -- on to the show!

Hit the jump to find out more about seldom-seen Bitmobber Alex Martin's existential interpretation of the narrative, Game Club creator J. Cosmo Cohen's mixed response, and funnyman Travis McReyonolds' one-act play in which he conflates Braid protagonist Tim and Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor.

*WARNING* MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

Lullaby Set by Shira Kammen

Braid Edition Contributor: Chris "Cosmo" Ross

Cosmo is glad Braid is over. It's not an easy game. Also, he was ready for some blood and guts, which he's getting in his current fancy: Darksiders.

I want to keep my final entry for the Braid Game Club as short as possible. So, I'll sum up Braid in four words: the antithesis of Mario.

It's really not much more complicated than that. Turns out Tim, our intrepid "hero," is a scum-bag, low-life peeping Tom. If Jonathan Blow's intentions of engrossing the player in the world of Braid weren't so well thought out, then I doubt I'd feel the way I do: somewhat disappointed. As it stands, at the end of the game I felt let down and tricked.

Despite my personal feelings, Blow did accomplish something with his game: an uncompromising realization of his singular vision. See, even though I felt tricked and let down, it because of my own preconceptions with how I viewed Tim. I think that all the rug-pulling in the conclusion is purposeful; not many players would choose to begin this trippy adventure if they knew the final outcome. And that would be a shame. People consider Braid a great game, and I feel the same way, too.

Just don't expect another entry into the exploits of Mario, Bowser, and Princess Peach.

Braid Edition Contributor: Alex Martin

Despite the recent snow-mageddon, Alex has made it halfway across Britain and is back to the student-life groove. That means staying up until dawn gaming, drinking, playing guitar loudly, and not doing much work.

And so Braid finishes. I think. The epilogue talks openly about the "Birth of the World." And when you hide Tim from view, behind a rock or a statue, the game goes on about death and destruction. In the books on the hub screens, the story indicates that Tim thinks he can find the Princess by cutting up rat brains and experimenting on monkeys. And of course, I can't forget the obvious reference to the first successful test of the atomic bomb: Ken Bainbridge's famous quote, "Now we're all sons of bitches."

But before all of that, the biggest "Oh, Shit!" moment in Braid shocked the hell out of me. I discovered that the Princess didn't want to be found. Tim isn't a noble prince on a quest to rescue a damsel in distress: He's a creepy stalker, chasing a girl from her home. Turns out, he was running through the last level backward!

My whole perception of the game was knocked out of place. During the course of the adventure, I perceived more than one level of its in-game reality, but the game threw the order of events and Tim's status as "the good guy" into doubt.

It seems that Tim sees the events differently: He thinks he's protecting "the girl," but she tells him he's going the wrong way. He thinks he's witnessed the "Birth of the World, " but "she" calls it the "death of the world." A lot of people take lines like these -- with the added effect of the Ken Bainbridge quote -- to mean that Braid is about a scientist who thinks he is doing the world justice by creating a massive weapon.

I don't necessarily think that Jonathan Blow has made Oppenheimer: The Game. If he was aiming for a specific allegory, he probably would have made it much clearer. I think Braid is about not letting desire overcome you or cloud your judgment. It's about making sure that the thing you want is really worth it, and that that thing wants to be found.

In the end, Tim is as lovable and loving as Meursault from Albert Camus' The Stranger. He uses other people to achieve his goals, he seems detached from those around him, and he sees his wedding ring as a weight on his hand. He keeps his ring hidden because he think it slows down his interactions with others by dilating time and conversation.

Tim and I spent the whole game searching for the Princess, and when we got there, she slapped us in the face. The whole thing was a waste of time.

Except that in the end, it wasn't. Blow constructed the final set piece out of the little icons that head each of the game's stages. It's as if Tim realizes he can build a castle to the clouds out of the moments from his life.

Braid is less about the end result, and more about the experience of getting there. The game's meaning is buried in your experience with it -- moments like the wonderment of playing it for the first time, the triumph of solving a challenge in a unique way, or the puzzlement of witnessing the ending.

To me the message seems to be that if you build your own castle, perhaps you don't need a prize.

Braid Edition Contributor: Travis McReynolds

Travis McReynolds is a man that exists. He is no longer playing Braid.

World 6 is a bad joke. I don't know about you, but I rank marriage-related humor down around puns on the scale of sign-inducing humor. This is the reason I can't watch anything with Tim Allen in it.

At the start of this World, the game hands Tim a ring with the power to significantly slow the passage of time around it. Haha, get it? Because it seems like an eternity every time your wife wants to "cuddle"! AM I RIGHT FELLAS?

Seriously though, since the puzzles in the ultimate/penultimate World (depending on your perspective) amp up the difficulty well above the previous levels (which were more or less impossible), I had plenty of time to compare World 6 to an episode of Home Improvement. Just bear in mind that flu medication and Tim's piss-poor jump timing were affecting me when I wrote this -- bear in mind that I used an actual Home Improvement plotline as a leaping off point. Here's the result:

Braid's Tim Taylor: A One-Act Play

Enter Tim Taylor and Wilson. In their adjoining backyards, they begin talking about the day

Tim

Wilson, I need your advice. I skipped out on the ballet with Jill tonight to go watch a hockey game with the boys. I just can't stand the ballet; it feels like it goes on forever. I like man-stuff. You know like sports, tools, wearing denim from head to toe, and pornography that's labeled as heterosexual, but contains as many close-ups of male genitalia as female. You know what I mean? Bark bark bark. (That sound he makes is barking, right?)

Wilson This is usually where I'd give you some sage-like advice, but let's be frank. I can't stand women either. Did you know that I'm married? I swore a blood-oath to the Dark Lord, and he cursed my wedding ring with the power to slow time. My wife has been frozen in the basement ever since! Come, neighbor, drink the blood of a non-believer, and this power can be yours!

Tim Looks like I'm off on another crazy misadventure! Bark bark bark. (Maybe it's growling? Whatever. I'm not wasting a perfectly good Google search on Tim Allen.)

Exeunt all

To sum it up, I spent a weeknight home from work bent on flu medicine, yelling at my television, and typing up a parody of Home Improvement. Isn't Braid ridiculous?

After beating World 6, I unlocked World 1 in Tim's attic. In it you finally find the Princess, but after running through a level where everyone is moonwalking, you discover that she's actually trying to get away from you -- presumably so she can go on a date with a guy that looks like Bluto from the Popeye cartoons. Perhaps you recall our first post where I compared this game to Jersey Shore on MTV. I think that comparison bears repeating now that the Princess has absconded with Six-Pack McDouchalot.

Tim never had a chance. I'd offer him a Solo cup of Mr. Boston vodka, but he's a fictional character in a video game. On a related note, NyQuil is powerful shit.

In the epilogue, a bunch of books reveal the end-game plot, but since I'm role-playing Tim as a fraternity pledge (based entirely on his getup) I only skimmed them. Goddamn pledge.

The End