Pizza dans le ciel

A margherita is bread, tomato, mozzarella and three basil leaves. Nothing to add. Then THEY climbed on. The pineapple first. Then the sweetcorn, the onion, the surimi. Artichokes, aubergines, even sharks. A whole topping that had no business being there moved in — and when someone tried to scrape it off, it fled into the sky above the bay of Naples. You are the slice sent to fetch them. Over the countryside first, then the city, the bay, the vineyards — and at last the volcano, which has not said its final word. FIFTEEN HAND-PAINTED WORLDS From the valleys to the crater, each world is a notch more damaged than the last. You set off in morning light and end in a grey, silent landscape. This is not scenery changing colour: it is a journey, and you can tell how far you have come just by looking out of the window. PLAYED WITH ONE THUMB Your finger sets the slice down and it follows. No fire button, no on-screen pad, nothing to learn. Bullets are pink, darts amber, orbs purple: you read danger in a tenth of a second, because the scenery never uses those colours. EIGHT BOSSES, AND WHAT IT TAKES TO MEET THEM The Broccoli, the Gorgonzola, the Frozen One, the Ketchup, the Calzone, the Oven, the Pineapple — each has its own manner and its own painted card. Six weapon tiers, wingmen, consumables: power is earned. THREE WAYS TO PLAY Apprentice for the journey, Pizzaiolo for the balance, Maestro for those who count frames. Three stars per world, and conditions for the third that nobody meets by accident. ONE PIECE OF MUSIC PER WORLD Fifteen recorded scores, cut into blocks that change on the bar: the music turns when the elite arrives, when the boss enters, when it falls. You never hear it cut. NO ADS, NO WAITING No advertising, no energy to refill, no subscription. The game is free and can be finished without paying a penny. The counter offers a way to go faster if you feel like it — that is all it does.