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As you start, turn the camera to the right to find a small cabin. Pull the door open to get inside and grab the black plank on your right hanging off the edge. You'll now want to get this plank back outside of the cabin which can be a bit of a task. You can either hold it above your head, horizontally as straight as you can, and try to get it out of the door and around to the right, or you can lay it horizontally and push it through the crack in the cabin wall opposite where you found the plank. Once you have it outside, take it with you around the side of the rocky outcropping (left of where you started) to find a big gap. You should know what to do here: either hold the plank above your head so you can get it to bridge the gap entirely and walk safely across, or push it along the ground so that it partly sticks out over the gap and jump off the end of it to reach and grab onto the other side.
You now have a brief platforming section where you need to follow the wall to carefully jump along the ledges. You'll quickly reach a frozen waterfall and will have to climb onto it before jumping up to the next ledge, being cautious not to slip off. Head left from here and jump over to the next ledge to find some stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Grab the nearest one with one hand, then swing back and forth from it until you can grab the second stalactite with your other hand. Once you're safely on that one, grab it with your other hand and swing back and forth so you can jump off to the right to land by one last cabin.
There's no story at all in HUMAN: FALL FLAT. Everything's right there in the title, a cheeky assertion that humans are only good at falling down, following rules they don't understand, and will obediently repeat the whole process. Indeed, as you play the game, you go through doors because you only know you're supposed to go through doors and fall after walking through them because that's the only way you can progress in the game. You're a human and you'll fall flat. There's nothing else we know how to do.
This amusing, physics-based puzzler will make you laugh, even when it frustrates you with its wobbly controls. You'll be able to tell right away whether you appreciate Human: Fall Flat. Unlike so many other video games today, it's a welcome respite with bright colors and an understated sense of humor. You play as the titular human, a pudgy mass of Jell-O who's sent rippling and wobbling by the tiniest crack in the road or the seemingly smallest step in a staircase and who's tasked with absurd situations like hugging a wrecking ball to careen over huge pits, whizzing from a catapult, and carefully steering power boats. Momentum, inertia, and other terms you likely haven't heard since high school (\"centripetal force,\" anyone) are key to navigating the game.
Extract files.Burn or mount the image.Install the game.ElAmigos release, game is already cracked after installation (crack by Codex).Play the game. If you like this game, BUY IT!
WHEN I war a littil over half grown, hed sproutedmy tail feathers, an' wer beginnin tu crow, thar wer alivin in the neighborhood a dredful fat, mean, lazy boy,'bout my age. He wer the middil son ove a ole lark,name Skissim. He tinkered ontu ole clocks, an' spininwheels, et lye hominy, an' exhortid at meetin fur alivin, while this middil boy ove hisen, did the sleepinfur the hole famurly. He cud beat a hog an' a hungrydorg eatin, an' then beat his eatin wif his sleepin, es bades his eatin beat the eatin ove a rat, arter bein shut in achurch, ur a snake in a jug wif no mouf tu hit. Theywaked him tu eat, an' then hed tu wake him agin tumake him quit eatin; waked him tu go tu the spring,an' waked him tu start back agin; waked him tu sayhis prayers, an' waked him tu stop sayin 'em. In facthey wer allers a-wakin him, an' he wer allers a-gointu sleep agin. Ole Skissim waked 'im wif a wagginwhip, an' a buckshot in the cracker, what he totedapupus. His mam waked him wif the tea-kittil an'scaldin warter. Bof the buck-shot cracker an' the warterlos thar vartu et las, an' they jis' gin him over tuonaindin sleepin, an' onmitigated hardness ove hed.Charley Dickins's son, the fat boy, mout been es ni kintu him es a secund cuzzin, ef his mam wer a pow'fulwakeful 'oman.
I screw'd ontu each ove his years a par ove iron hanvices,what his dad squeezed ole clocks, an crac't warnutswit, an' they hung down like over-grow'd yearrings;I tied a gridiron to wun ankil, an' a par ovefire-tongs tu tuther; I pour'd a bottil ove groun redpepperdown his back, onder his shut; I turn'd loose apint ove June-bugs, what I kotch apupus, intu his buzzum,an' buttoned em up; I tied a baskit full ove firecrakers tu the cheer back, tu his har, an' tu his wrists;I button'd up a big grey-whisker'd aggravated ole rat,tied wif a string intu the slack ove his britches; tuthersend ove the string wer fas' ontu his gallus button, anthe rat, like all the res' ove that tribe, imejuntly sot incuttin his way out; but owin to his parvarse nater urthe darkness ove the place, he sot in tu cuttin the wrongway; he wer a workin towards the back-bone, an' furderfrum the britches, every cut. I learnt this fac'from the cheer risin frum the flure, an' fallin agin jis'tu rise imejuntly a littil higher, an' sum souns, a mixtryove snort, snore, grunt, an' groan, which he wer beginin tu isoo tolabil fas', an' gettin louder every bounceove the cheer, an' becumin more like ontu a howl everypop. In the beginin ove his oneasines he dream'd ovewagin whip, nex' he dream'd ove a tea-kittil es big es astill, an' lots ove bilin wartar, an' nex he drempt ovebof ove 'em; an' now he wer a dreamin that the tea-kittilwer a steam ingine, a drivin the waggin whip, an'a cottin gin wif red hot saws fifteen hundred licks aminis, an' that he wer in the cottin hopper.
I now thot hit ni ontu the proper time tu tetch thecrackers, so es tu hev everything bar hits shar in thekontemplated cummin waknin. An' I did hit. Thefust handful ur so gwine off help'd, wif the industry ovethat energetic ole rat, the sarchin ove the red pepper, an'the permiskus scratchin roun ove the bugs, tu begin tuwake him sorter gradully, a littil faster nor light breadrises, an' a littil slower then a yeathquake wakes-weazels.A few hundred more gwine off, still hevin therat, pepper, an' insex tu back em, got him wide enufawake tu bleve that he wer threatened wif sum orfulpussonal calamerty, what wanted pow'ful quick workon his part tu dodge. He wer awake now all overeven to his durnd ole hat, an' he show'd hit in es menyways es a cat dus, lock'd up in a empty room wif astrange an' interprisin big dorg.
I wer aimin fur Dr. Goodman's, at the HiwaseeCopper Mine, to git sumthin tu simmer hit down wif,when I met ole Clapshaw, the suckit-rider, a-travelinto'ards sumbody's hot biskit an' fried chicken. As Icum tarin along, he hilt up his hans like he wanted tupray fur me; but es I wanted sumthin tu reach furder,an' take a ranker holt nur his prars cud, I jis' rambledahead. I wer hot arter a ten-hoss dubbil-actin steampaunch-pump, wif wun aind sock'd deep intu my sodalake, an' a strong manbody doctur at tuther; hit wermy jis' then. He tuck a skeer, es I wer cuminstrait fur him; his faith gin out, an' he dodged, flathat, hoss, an' saddil-bags, into the thicket. I seed hishoss's tail fly up over his back, es he disappear'd intuthe bushes; thar mus' a-been spurrin gwine on 'boutthar. I liked his moshuns onder a skeer rite well; hemade that dodge jis' like a mud-turkil draps ofen a logwhen a big steamboat cums tarin a-pas'. Es he pass'dole man Burns's, Sicily hailed 'im tu ax ef he met enybodygwine up the road in a sorter hurry. The poordevil tho't that p'raps he mout; warnt sure, but he hedseed a dreadful forewarnin, ur a ghos', ur ole Belzebub,ur the Tariff. Takin all things tugether, however, inthe litil time spar'd tu 'im fur 'flection, hit mus' a-beena crazy, long-laiged shakin Quaker, fleein frum the rathto cum, on a black an' white spotted hoss, a-whipin 'imwif a big brush; an' he hed a white beard what cumfrum jis onder his eyes down tu the pumil ove the saddil,an' then forked an' went tu his knees, an' frumthar drapp'd in bunches es big es a crow's nes', tu thegroun; an' he hearn a soun like ontu the rushin ovemitey warters, an' he wer pow'fully exersized 'bout hitenyhow. Well, I guess he wer, an' so wer his fat hoss,an' so wer ole Blackey, an' more so by a durn'd site werme mysef. Arter he cumpos'd hissef he rit out his foolnoshuns fur Sicily, that hit wer a new steam invenshun,tu spread the Catholic doctrin, an' tote the Pope's bullsto pastur in distunt lans, made outen sheet iron, inginrubber, tann'd leather, ise cream, an' fat pine, an' thatthe hoss's tail wer made outen iron wire, red hot at thepint, an' a stream ove sparks es long es the steerin-oarove a flatboat foller'd thararter; an' takin hit all tugetherhit warnt a safe thing tu meet in a lane ove adark nite; an' he tho't he hed a call over the mountintu anuther sarkit; that chickens warnt es plenty overthar, but then he wer a self-denyin man.
Now, George, ef yu knows the nater ove a cowbrute, they is the durndes' fools amung all the beastes,('scept the Lovingoods;) when they gits intu tribulashun,they knows muffin but tu shot thar eyes, beller,an' back, an' keep a-backin. Well, when ole Sockraised his head an' foun hissef in darkness, he jis'twisted up his tail, snorted the shatter'd co'n outen thebaskit, an' made a tremenjus lunge agin the hous'. Ihearn the picters a-hangin agin the wall on the insidea-fallin. He fotch a deep loud rusty beller, mout beenhearn a mile, an' then sot intu a onendin sistem ovebackin. A big craw-fish wif a hungry coon a-reachinfur him, wer j