When I saw this pop up on the screen and the Oaf could not figure out what this street address was, I could not help but yell “Do you live in this city or not?”
And that’s the last of my Heavy Rain screenshots! I’ll never play this game again. Hope you enjoyed them!
Nathaniel is a guy who is hyper religious as an after-effect of experiencing police brutality. You go here while playing as Electronic Policeman Norman Jayden, and your natural instinct is to say “Yeah, I’ll definitely make this worse,” as one of your actual options is to END THIS MAN’S LIFE because he’s being a bit loud - or get him help? Because those are the two types of police. The rest of the apartment is absolutely encrusted with crucifixes - encrucifixed - except for the bathroom where there are none. This is because the shitter itself is a refuge from evil that cannot be made more perfect. It is entirely sinless, irreproachable, without fault, and the place where you go when you want to experience sanctity on this Earth. Saint Bowl is a bit filthy but that’s only because it is also so humble. We could all learn a LOT from this shitter.
This shitter lives in a burnt apartment that has a lizard painted on the door. The key to the Lizard Suite is kept in a little porcelain lizard too! So I guess there’s a theme. During this trial, The Oaf has to cut off a piece of his finger in front of a camera - I guess the allusion is that lizards sometimes lose their tails, except those grow back. The finger, not so much. Good thing you never went to the cops, Oaf, otherwise you might be out of this mess already. But then we never would have seen this shitter, a little grimy but still standing watch like a steadfast soldier. I will admit that the thing this game does really well is having shitters in pretty much every chapter, even if the characters don’t make use of them as Thinking Spots as they ought.
This game is chock-full of stupid people and bad parents. And combinations of both! This shitter from an elder care home where brilliant investigative journalist and Night Club Chameleon Madison Paige learns the true identity of the Origami Killer. And it’s a very funny scene where she acts terrified, shocked, and panicked all at the same time even though the name should mean nothing to her? She never even met him once during the entire game? Anyway this shitter has to sit by and watch the foolishness take place, quite a nice shitter but actually not the best design for a nursing home setting. It’s the private shitter of Ann Sheppard, the killer’s mother, and she is like “oh yeah, I had two sons, one of them died while I wasn’t taking care of him, and that was the one I actually liked. The other one is some guy, idk what happened to him, the government took him away and he’s a Frankenstein’s Monster of morals he picked up on the streets and alleyways when I wasn’t doing my only fucking job.” You know, it’s quite interesting how the Origami Killer ends up killing kids “just to see if their dad will come to the rescue” like his own father never did, but nobody seems to ask what THE MOMS were doing?
Don’t let this five-star glam shitter fool you. Its caretaker is a mess. This shitter is looked after by Lauren Winter, a woman with zero muscles in her neck and sits or walks with a permanent slouch. We are led to infer that her former child, Johnny, was approximately 9 years old but in all his pictures he looks like he could have been Sick Boy’s stunt double. Possibly due to a steady in vitro diet of booze and cigarettes. We are supposed to be rooting for this bitch as she’s basically the story’s hero, I’m not, a slime mold could have beat her to solving the crime. And no, The Oaf is not the hero, he just has the most screen time. Ok, let’s face it, nobody in Heavy Rain is particularly brilliant, not even RoboCop Norman Jayden who has the power of SCIENCE on his side.
BACK TO THE SHITTER, this art deco starlet is like the rose from Beauty and the Beast - Encased in a protective glass gazebo-like cloche, and treated as a shrine where Lauren bedazzles it out with trinkets from her party days. Dahling, this shitter wears an impeccable fur cape and matching hat, and is surrounded at all times by a soft petal-tinted light. She has pink and white gauzy curtains to obscure her nobility from uncultured onlookers. Probably not shitter royalty, but at the very least a marchioness. Perhaps the cousin of a marchioness.
CALLING ALL COMMODE VIGILANTES.. In Heavy Rain Chapter 31, you are presented with a challenge from a folded paper shark figurine to take a human life. You (being the shark, I presume) swarm boldly to enforce savage justice a bottom-tier apartment-dwelling drug dealer who is probably peddling Adderall or some shit, along with his HIGH STAKES BOUNTY SHITTER (who is a HOSTAGE in this crime web!). When I played this game, I was unable to get the screenshot while simultaneously executing the quicktime movements and I really don’t feel like playing this game again so it’s up to YOU, BRIGADE. If you can get me this screenshot I’ll donate $15 to the selected sanitation charity of 2024 - that’s three times the normal amount for a Shitter Submitter! This shitter is as yet STILL IN CAPTIVITY and needs your help!
After your wife kicks you out and 100% blames you for a tragedy that was actually due to both of your combined failures (as well as the magic of a telepathic clown), you’ll go live in a shanty in the worst part of Murder City that is already disgustingly filthy and you will NEVER clean it.
Even so, Oaf’s hovel has TWO bathrooms, which is very, very swanky for this level of visual depression. The first confined nook is dirty as hell, he’s got newspapers in there for some fucking reason. The one that HAS a sink, as well as both a bathtub AND shower, is so dark and he doesn’t even bother turning on the light so I had to maximize the brightness and colors just so you can see his LOL brand flip phone. Maybe this particular detail, for once, is not the Oaf’s fault, I mean if you look the bathroom has several light switches and no visible light fixtures. So who knows what they’re for. Maybe they turn the shower on. The shitter is so mortified to be witnessed as present in this dreadful abode, but it’s a true friend that will stick by your side even when you’re at rock fucking bottom. Given this Oaf’s track record, I’m thinking that’s probably a box of rat poison on his sink. Well, good thing Shaun (aka, ‘the other one’) is only stuck here one day a week.
Once in a lifetime opportunity! Not really. But here are some of the most annoying people giving their two differing outlooks on the same shitter and it took some planning to get this one, so I hope you’re thanking me. On the left you have portly egg-shaped Detective Shelby - this is his shitter - and I mean this is just a scene where you lurch around your apartment, take a piss and then someone knocks on your door. Hand washing is 10000% not happening in this scene so think twice before you shake hands with a detective.
On the right you have Madison Paige who really needs at least two y’s in the spelling of her name if she’s gonna sell that personality. Why is SHE in Detective Shelby’s shitter? It’s simple, really. And when I tell you, you should have no more questions. She crawled through the wall whilst escaping an arson inferno. Obviously!
The real bonus here is in the second picture where Shelby is showing us the actual face he makes while he pees. So, now that both you and I have lived through seeing that, what do you do now? Tell your therapist immediately? Have a night terror? Leave your family and become a street corner prophet? You could do all those things and it would never erase this image from your mind. The Origami Killer has more than one method of spoiling your serenity! That’s what makes him such a criminal genius.
This fucking game, man. Here’s a shot of the gendered bathrooms in the hottest club in the citay, the Blue Lagoon. For our purposes, we will just refer to it as La Discothèque Benêt, because the managerial squad of this joint share one single exhausted brain cell.
These club shitters are denoted by gauche and florid neon signs featuring ancient Greek pictograms for the elements thouros (iron) and phosphoros (copper). Madison Paige resigns herself to the pink option and goes in to become Scorching Hot as a requisite component of her quest. You see, when ladies access the bathroom in La Discothèque Benêt, it’s because they wish to become even more exceedingly beautiful, thus vending machines with toothbrushes and hair spra (purse size!) are required. By the way you can’t even go into these stalls, but why would you need to because women don’t poop?! They survive with mirrors and cheap disposable cosmetics alone! Who runs this club, a clique of recently-demonetized YouTubing red pillers, with itty bitty little purse-sized brains?
The actual answer is entrepreneurial sigma crime lord Paco Mendes. The mafia runs the Blue Lagoon. There’s no salvaging the lack of shitter, but let’s just swap that vending junk for some essential club sundries. Change out the fresh kisses n’ pretty smiles crap for condoms, and instead of hair spray make it bear spray. Basic supplies for the gun-toting amateur-journalist-turned-rogue-investigator on the go!
Ignore the most disgusting part about this image, that being Detective Scott Shelby erected like a befuddled, hostile moai blockading the entrance to this stellar shitter. Look at that face. No thoughts in head, maybe just wants Pringles.
This is the home of Susan Bowles, a name that clearly states she is a shitter advocate and a woman who didn’t exactly ask for help but Scott Shelby shows up anyway. Without giving up too many details, let’s just say he discovers Susan in the process of ensuring her second child has about as much of a future as her first. Yeesh. But enough about that, get a load of this shitter, the cleanest, most sparkly, gorgeous and artful part of this dreadful scene!
Shitter is gorgeous, gotta give Susan that much credit. It’s good to see she has her priorities straight. But that chipping paint on the door frame has me concerned for baby Emily’s daily intake of lead supplements.
The investigation into the Origami Killer takes our detectives to the Kramer mansion where a super fun party is taking place. I’ll let you in on a little secret: The party sucks balls, it’s just a bunch of skinny Sims extras doing the Sims Party Dance and many are wearing digital clock face belt buckles that flash the word “COOL” because I guess people have a hard time knowing when and where this party is actually being cool. This festive banquet of amusement is so exclusive that goons are standing guard at the base of the driveway, in the rain, ensuring only COOL people enter. So naturally when an obviously cool guy like Detective Scott Shelby waddles up to the gate in his trench coat, presenting his cardboard invitation, they let him right in. He looks like somebody’s dad and he’s Party Cyanide but nobody seems to notice. Lauren Winter begs you to let her slouch in with you because she is such a GREAT DETECTIVE and has a real sixth sense about PEOPLE, but once she’s here she cries about how loud it is and isn’t having any fun, so you are left to explore by yourself.
Well, Detective Shelby is on the case and the first thing I did was locate the shitter. This is the best shitter these avant riche fools could drum up? It looks like it belongs off the reception area of an acupuncturist’s office. I hate concrete sinks to begin with, but this one is also visibly dirty. Raw brass fixtures and shitty Pier 1 fingerpaints. Gag. That MIGHT be Travertine flooring, but the hideous bare bulb vanity surround does not exactly highlight this room’s best features, if it had some. Explain to me why no one could restock either one of these tp rolls, which I would like to point out are chain bolted to the wall. No, everything is wrong. Torch it and start over.
Faintly interesting fact about Heavy Rain: In this scene, you’ll create a diversion with a drunk dude you call “friend” to get past the meatnecks guarding the way upstairs. You do the very same thing at the Thalmor Embassy during the main quest in Skyrim - a game that was released nearly a year later than Heavy Rain.
I just want to make one thing abundantly clear and that is in the Heavy Rain universe, these people do NOT believe in handwashing, and they do NOT believe in calling 911. And your own wife will absolutely throw you completely under the bus and tell the cops and the FBI that you are definitely a deranged killer, so you probably should have brought that shoebox full of evidence to the police the minute you got your hands on it.
I initially had some hope left over for this Oaf, but he took a piss in this toilet, and then when I went to use the sink to wash my hands he just splashed water on his face! No soap! I dislike this man, but he is under a lot of stress and it’s not entirely his fault that all this happened. I mean what happened to Jason was completely Jason’s fault, and what happened to Shaun was completely the mother’s fault. What is she doing leaving Shaun alone with this moron after what happened to Jason?
Anyway, you decide to get a room at the Crossroad Motel, and this is the shitter there. Gosh, does it ever look depressed to be mixed up in this story. You’re here to try to solve the crime on your own instead of teaming up with FutureCyberRobocop Norman Jayden, the only guy in this entire shitshow that believes in the healing power of technology. Yes, the only way to bring this killer to justice is to keep it all a secret, just like the bad handwashing habits! The trinkets you’re supposed to use as clues are little NUMBERED origami figurines that all correspond to ordeals you must survive just to get another computer chip with a tiny video clip on it of your kid peering up at you from a drain grate. Okay, then why doesn’t this idiot just open the FINAL ORIGAMI figurine FIRST and just go directly to the finish line? Fucking oaf.
It is here in this room that Madison reemerges in the story to help dress the wounds the Main Oaf sustains crawling through a tunnel of glass that defies the laws of physics as to how it got there and she neither 1) washes her hands before applying first aid, nor 2) calls an ambulance as the Oaf tosses and turns in a fever coma throughout the night. A little while later, Madison reveals her insane lifelong fetish of roleplaying as Unqualified Doctor. So it’s not exactly a mystery that when Madison offers to help the Oaf he completely refuses. Yeah, he’s capable of fucking his life up perfectly well on his own.
This game has a thing for huge walls of windows and shitters in cubbyholes. And idiots in their underwear. This is Madison Paige, journalist, mere seconds before she is mercilessly slain by a pair of identical twin thugs. My God, what are the odds? When you first meet Madison you don’t know yet that she’s a journalist, instead you think she’s got to be a fucking ninja because of the way she fights off a set of matching goons, like she’s Jason Bourne or Noomi Rapace (in any of various Noomi Rapace movies).
This shitter is also truly a miracle to behold because the only way you are ever going to see it is if you execute a series of quicktime events in a sequence that allows Madison to die in her bathroom. Nice, another silent WITNESS to an unspeakable crime. Survivor’s guilt is pretty common in the shitter community and the blame lies squarely on the developers. Yeah you want to put the shitters in the scene because you know that shit sells. But think of the collateral damage! That shitter is now in the witness protection program. That shitter is Waldo! You’ll never see that shitter again or if you do, you better not refer to it by its former name because it will flat out ignore you. She does not know you. Walk away!
I would like to just quickly point out that Madison Paige has a product called “PAIN” on her linen pantry shelf. I don’t know what that is, but a bucket of pain sounds like a pretty good self-defense implement. Anyway bottom line is the entire ordeal is a stupid fake nightmare and Madison doesn’t really die so that shitter only exists on the astral plane. It was just a prank, bro! That shitter existed for only a moment in time and then was gone. Okay, but everything I said before, about the glib bandying of shitters as traumatic crime props remains a legitimate social concern. They are capable of so much more. Lets see more shitters in cinematic roles as administrators and mentors.
The weirdest shit happens in Heavy Rain and it’s all stuff that has nothing to do with the plot.
This is the shitter in your house that you share with your wife, two sons, and a songbird who has no freedom and no windows and that straight up dies on your watch. Shame on this shirtless oaf for his disregard of the happiness of the bird. After 10 min of bumping into walls it is ‘revealed’ that you are thinking about taking a shower. Of course, you can imagine my delight that the first stop on this journey was the bathroom. But yes “bathroom” it was, only, because in this room there is just a sink, a shower, and separate bathtub that’s located just behind Oaf in this picture. To get to the actual shitter you have to leave the bathroom and it’s on your left in a little closet. There are no windows in either of these rooms. Ridiculous. I disapprove!
It gets worse. In Heavy Rain you can only interact with specific objects at specific times, so you can imagine that it gives me no pleasure whatsoever to rat on this Oaf and tell the entire internet that he does not wash his hands after his encounter with the shitter. He just goes back into the bathroom and shaves his face, and then plays with his kid’s toys, unsanitary hands and all. Disgusting!
Heavy Rain has plenty of opportunities for you to exercise your scorn for the Oaf and his gross habits, including purposefully dropping the groceries, drinking the coffee too fast, and rolling around in the lawn like a dog. Lastly, while playing Heartwarming Plastic Toy Sword Battle with your child, you can make sure that you, the adult, makes it perfectly clear who the man of the house is by completely kicking his ass. Afterward, you’ll see your own scorn for the Oaf is no match for that of his sons, as they leave you passed out on the grass while they bolt inside for some delicious lunchies. Fast forward 20 years when only one of the sons still acknowledges you exist. Proper handwashing is so very essential.
