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The cover photograph of Martech's Vixen is, by now, familiar. Featuring a remarkable range of indoor flora, ranging from the waxy magnificence of the anthurium andreanum to the sumptious splendour of the Brazilian philodendrum, it is without doubt the finest display of hothouse greenery to grace the packaging of a computer game.

The overall effect is, sadly, marred by the unsightly intrusion of a bikini-clad bimbette wielding a whip. Teetering precariously on stiletto heels in a pile of John Innes Potting Compost No 3, she looks understandably embarrassed at being caught in the act of flagellating a potted palm.

The packaging is, of course, a cynical marketing poly aimed at exploiting the frustrated desires of indoor gardeners. As if we humble horticulturalists didn't have enough to put up with, what with wilting leaves and whitefly, without Martech encouraging us to lay about the conservatory with a bullwhip.

Not content just with their Page 3 approach to cover artwork, Martech have also included a fold-out poster of the vacuous fern-flogger, and even given us her telephone number. She is not, however, a great conversationalist, and despite my best endeavours to discuss the art of bonsai tree-planting, she was clearly exhausted by her efforts to utter a sentence of more than two words.

("At last," she breathed heavily, "You call... Danger everywhere... Hurry... Hurry..." At which the poor girl, overcome with emotion, paused to throw up into a bucket, and I tactfully replaced the receiver.)

Well, all this is definitely worth a tenner of anyone's money, and it's therefore all the more surprising to find that Martech have gone to the additional expense of including a game in the box, even if it is astonishingly run-of-the-mill.

In it a 'powerful lone female', half-woman, half-fox, uses her ten Magic Lives and her Magic Whip to fight off rampaging herds of mutant dinosaurs while she sprints across the horizontally-scrolling landscape. Whipping everything in sight, she attempts to accumulate points, extra lives and extra time while she scampers through the undergrowth and leaps over ravines.

From time to time, she can also indulge in a spot of serious ball-breaking by demolishing the giant orbs that dangle from the trees, and these will reward her with Fox Time. At the end of each level, if she's accumulated enough FT, she can transform into a fox and enjoy a brief romp through a bonus level, collecting mega-gems and, hopefully, the fabled mega-whip. She'll need the latter if she's to survive the prehistoric nasties which lie in wait on the next level.

That's all there is to it. The levels get more difficult, the monsters more resilient, and the scenery more treacherous - exactly what you'd expect from a straightforward, sub-standard slice of arcade head-banging, with all the usual trimmings.

Never mind. The game, after all, is only an afterthought, and it shouldn't spoil your enjoyment of the rest of the packaging. Just stick your pin-up poster above the telephone, dial the Vixen hotline number, and let your mind be expanded by an illuminating discourse on the nocturnal habits of scaly vertebrates: "Reptile come again... Teeth sharp... Reptile never sleep... Always move... Always kill..."

This girl could go far.