An ominous little game about giving a bunch of zoo animals what they want. To learn their desires, you have to solve a series of cryptic crossword-style clues, though the game also walks you through how to go about solving these. This wasn't so short that it felt insubstantial, but it also didn't overstay its welcome. I got stuck for a bit, but I asked the author for help, and he gave me a new clue or two which let me figure out what I'd been missing. That was a lot of fun, too.
I have to ask myself: "If I had so much fun, why didn't I give the game five stars?" This is all a bit subjective, but I've given shorter games higher scores before, so I do feel like it's a question that deserves an answer.
This is oversimplifying, but: our viewpoint character is a villain. She is a predator in a world of predation. However satisfying it may be to know that she eventually gets her comeuppance, for the duration of this game, our control of her enables her to make deals which will not be to the benefit of every party involved. It is implied that some parties (through no fault of their own) will end up getting the very, very short end of the stick. That's nature; that's life. (Or unlife, in this case.) But it still bums me out.
An update from some time later: after debating this with myself for a bit, I've decided to give it the full five stars after all. Evoking powerful feelings should be recognized as a success, even if the feelings are more complicated than simple joy.
It is the year 2000, and you are a mailbox plugin whose purpose is to eradicate annoying and malicious emails.
Whether an email is annoying or malicious isn't as clear-cut as you might hope. Sure, the unsolicited advertisements and bulk-mail phishing schemes seem obvious enough. What about newsletters your user might have deliberately signed up for, though? What about chain letters or fundraising scams forwarded by your user's less considerate contacts? Dozens of such notorious categories of junk messages await your evaluation.
This would be a fine diversion by itself. Here's your queue of email to review: pick one and read it. Consider the color, context, and comedy provided by your internal monologue. Make your decision. Zap, or Approve? Your choice made, it's on to the next email. The routine is no less enjoyable for its simplicity.
Beyond the routine, though, a narrative emerges. Your protagonist, "Zap", may just be simple mailbox plug-in, but it has personality, opinions, and agency. It has colleagues: even friends. These characters and concepts grow in tandem with the importance of the messages you're reviewing. As the situation develops, actual puzzles appear. (You may brute-force these at your discretion.)
I found myself entertained. Zapping spam was engaging, while the puzzles rewarded attention and intuition. The story took unexpected turns. I worried that the long and sprawling narrative might work against the simple joy of spam elimination, but my fears proved unfounded. Despite playing for minutes shy of two hours, You are SpamZapper 3.1 never wore out its welcome. I recommend this without reservations.