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The Punks came, and they were well hard. They had the highest DMs and the coolest quiffs - nobody stood in their way.

The city fell, becoming a ghetto, its inhabitants trapped in the urban wasteland. There was no way out and no way in: Putrefaction and mutation were rife. Ordinary wastebins became so highly cultured that they developed the ability to move. Alarm clocks became giant bouncing time-warp devices. In short, surreality had broken out.

One man resolved to return normality to the tortured streets, sneakers and a Yankee cap his only defence. Punks could be kicked so hard that their molecular structures collapsed, leaving a 200 point reward floating in the air.

The wiser Punks learnt to dodge it, but the Mighty Foot would get them in the end. That foot belonged to Joe Blade, a man so hard he shaves with a Flymo, and his job was to save the citizens.

Before the invasion, the Citz were happy, outgoing people, looking forward to each new day. It was pitiful to see what they had become.

Hunchbacked and virtually immobile, they took on the guise of dirty old men in order to avoid the attentions of the Punks.

The Citz had developed a recognition system by which they could tell friend from foe. Each Cit carried a unique set of tiles which changed shape automatically, and on meeting they would reset the shapes, according to predetermined rules.

As the shapes changed very quickly, the Punks had no chance of breaking the code. Joe had a set of these tiles, and was capable of cracking the code, but not with the lightning dexterity of the Citz.

Although Joe was thoroughly opposed to the surreal forces at work in the city, he understood how they worked. He knew that if he collected five dustbins they would mutate into keys for the doors that were not already smashed. He could control the wildly chaotic forces in the giant clocks to give himself more time to save the city.

Once his time was up the entire city would collapse to form a small portable typewriter, which would eventually be sold in a hardware store in Lubbock, Texas. But that is a different story.

Joe may be wee, but he's no half-measure. He kicks those Punks with all the skill of a rugby placekicker. He's also got more colour to him than in the prequel, and there is more variety to the graphics.

Gone is the infuriating ammo, which always ran out just before you really needed it. The tile matching sub-games are really testing, and are great for honing pattern matching skills.