And it wasn't the extensive customisation available. Nor was it the outlandish, varied, thoroughly entertaining missions on offer. They were the sponge and filling of a delicious cake of game, but the icing was far simpler. Elegant, even. There's a button in Saints Row: The Third whose entire function, reason for being, very existence is to allow you to smack people in their genitals. In a multi-platform release for which the entire range of possible interactive options has to be laid out on a sixteen button controller, where you can wield triple-barrelled shotguns, fly hover-bikes equipped with miniguns and do the splits in front of strangers to win their applause, dedicating one of those buttons to a single function not only shows you where the developers' priorities lie, but it means they put a lot of effort into making genital-smacking look damn good.

That's the whole point of SR:TT. The game seems to stick to a simple formula: is it fun? If so, it's in. If not, it's out. This can often materialise at the expense of the world's coherency, the player's suspension of disbelief and the laws of physics. But, outside of a game maker's own artistic ego, nothing appreciable is lost. To hell with the laws of physics, they were just getting in my way.