To tell you the truth, I found the game/characters OK, but somewhat lacking, if only because...

1950's hipster humor (which this is trying, in a somewhat noirish way to emulate) is, in essence, quite snobbish and self-centered: although it's averred that hipster/Beats DIG EVERYTHING, and would love to see America as the bounteous land of Woody Guthrie anthems and FDR's vision, they find very little to like in the flyover states -- the people are laughably (and often horrifically) provincial, bigoted, and ignorant, the landscape is mostly monotonous, broken only by architecture of such a vulgarity as to set one's teeth on edge, and anyway, it's hard to find the necessities of life, like reliable sources of drugs, be-bop records, and the Evergreen Review. What these hard-core urbanites do find to love, if you read On The Road, is either freely available sex (with a charmingly innocent young thing they can ditch a day later) or a suitably enigmatic exchange with some elder who perfectly echoes their thoughts (who might have been an hallucination). That, the first time they see a broad horizon, and the inevitable cries of reunion as they find another group of like-minded souls, who come as a much-needed oasis in the air-conditioned nightmare of darkest America.

So, what has this to do with a cartoon dog and rabbit? Well, in translating this sensibility into something like childrens comix and updating the leftism to that of the Nineties, the whole sick-humor undertow gets castrated. Sam and Max are comically amoral, cheerily tossing a bomb out of the window, and leaving a fisherman floating face-down in the water, but I'm supposed to be learning a moral lesson from their rescue of the Bigfoots from Conroy Bumpus (and various other parties) which they do without any discernible change of plan. We don't think hat acts aren't all that funny anymore, even if sung by Brits (Bad Company, anyone?) and we aren't horrified by most of the roadside attractions listed (the traveling carnival, the dino parks, the Giant Ball of Twine) anymore either, since they're almost as endangered a species as...well, Bigfeet and DeSotos. Making this story into a crypto-ecological sermon just doesn't jibe well with the die-hard urbanism of the characters, Gary Snyder notwithstanding, and to top it off, if you've noticed, neither one of the main characters drinks, smokes, or lusts...which is one of the defining characteristics of this kind of detective story....and of UG comix, too, come to think of it.

None of this should bother me, I know. It was a very enjoyable game, and should be played, perhaps, with Steely Dan in the background. But it does.