About this game
The cake is a lie, obviously. But in this game, the cake is Mrs. Francois, and Jeffrey, our protagonist, is a walking hormone with a singular, sweaty focus. You know the type. The opening scene is him staring at her ass while she writes on the board, and the game doesn't even pretend to be about anything else. It's refreshingly direct, like a brick through a window. The art is... well, it's there. It has a sort of unpolished charm, like a drawing you'd find in a high school notebook, which I guess is the point. The teacher's proportions are absurd, physics-defying, the kind of thing that makes you laugh and then feel a little weird for laughing.
The gameplay loop is basically a series of increasingly desperate choices. Do you "accidentally" drop your pencil near her desk? Do you offer her a slice of that suspiciously phallic-looking cake you baked in home ec? Each success gets you a little closer, a button undone, a skirt hiked up. I spent an embarrassing amount of time on the cake-baking minigame. You have to mix the batter just right, and I kept fucking it up. The frosting was too runny. It's a metaphor for something, probably. The pickup lines are so bad they circle back around to being brilliant. "Is your name Google? Because you have everything I'm searching for." I actually groaned out loud. My cat looked at me.
Then there's the undressing mechanic. It's a point-and-click affair, but the hitboxes are janky as hell. I was trying to remove her blouse and accidentally clicked her ear, which made her say something about the school board. It completely killed the mood for a solid ten seconds. The student-teacher dynamic is played completely straight, no nuance, no commentary, just pure id. It's the kind of fantasy that exists in a vacuum, and the game knows it. The whole thing feels like a fever dream you'd have after eating too much gas station sushi. I forgot what I was talking about. Oh right, the cake. It's a good cake.