Masters of Albion has Peter Molyneux's paws all over it. The art style and arch British humor channels Fable, and it's even set in a place called Albion (not the same Albion as Fable, of course). It's all very gentle, very quaint, like I've just opened an Enid Blyton or Jill Barklem picture book.
But then my in-game mentor, who instructs me in all things being-a-god, goes hell for leather: "Fuck off it's a fucking zombie!" she cries. It's a response commensurate with the severity of the situation—midnight zombie attack—but it's the funniest case of tonal whiplash I've experienced in a game for a while. Imagine if Maru in Stardew Valley called you a cockhead every time you proffered a snow yam. That's how it felt.
