A fox-headed mechanic. A beaten-down shop on a backwater planet. Endless eldritch monstrosities. I did minimal research before deciding to play Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop, the brainchild developed by Beard Envy and published by Kasedo Games. Surface level, it looked just dandy: a quirky sci-fi atmosphere with crude humor and oil grease. But one does not have to play for long to see the warnings. The signs. Omens of brutality. Hours of grinding, only to end in death again and again. 

Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop isn’t a silly game where you fix some spaceships and then snuggle up in bed to honk-shoo the day away. In this roguelite game, if you can’t make your rent, Uncle Chop in all his holographic glory descends to obliterate you. Over. And over. And over.

I spent hours with my face in my hands, devastated. Broken. Beaten down by a giant, holographic pig that had a thousand and one ways to end me. 

And yet… I tried again. 

Welcome To The Rocket Shop

Our greasy little mechanic is Wilbur, a foxheaded man with some questionable tattoos. He’s the new guy at Uncle Chop’s, guided by our nicotine-addicted friend, Droose. Wilbur is presented with a simple objective. Fix the spaceships that come into the shop. Make rent on time. Rinse and repeat, (there will be a lot of repeating).

Droose shows you around the place, and I quickly noted that he would be doing all the talking. Wilbur is a silent, “Is he mysterious or are there just no thoughts behind those eyes” type of guy. Apart from Wilbur’s own little apartment, Droose has a diner crowded with customers of all alien shapes and sizes. Then, of course, there’s the platform where the rockets are repaired.

A couple more areas are behind that: a small kiosk for buying parts, then a warehouse and empty lot, both of which you can gradually fill with machines to make specialized parts with.

It’s a generous space to spend the game in, but oh, gentle reader. Not all is what it seems in Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop, and many secrets — from shady to eldritch — are tucked away in the nooks and crannies.

Fix Those Ships!

The core gameplay of Uncle Chop’s is to choose between 2-3 jobs, then fix the ship as requested. If you do a good job: cha-ching. One more exhausted step towards making rent. But you fail to fix the ship? You somehow leave it worse than you found it? Parts missing, toilet broken, hull on fire… Guess whose greasy jean pocket those damages are taken out of?

Each ship consists of different modules, and Wilbur will be directed to which modules are malfunctioning. Wilbur must diagnose what exactly is wrong, then repair it, leaving the ship pristine and (mostly) perfect.

Now, these modules. There are many different modules, each with their own layout, parts, possible malfunctions, and methods of repair. I applaud the developers for their ingenuity in designing the modules, especially considering that repairing them is 90% of the game. 

Early on, Wilbur will be faced with ships containing just one or two modules. The jobs will be oil changes, refuels, or headlight switches. But then you get to the Rebreathers, which are little planets with a population of snails. You get the Universal Poop Receptacle, the Hive VR, and, of course Cl14d (“Clifford”), the galaxy’s most emotionally unstable AI. And there are so many more modules after that.

These modules increase in complexity, both in how they’re physically laid out, and in how many ways they can break and be fixed. Just be careful you don’t leave the ship worse than you found it, or you’ll be next on Uncle Chop’s chopping block.

All Hail, the Unholy Manual

I hear you exclaiming, “Gasp! How am I, a humble gamer, to know how to repair all of these rocket ships?” Be calm, grasshopper; for Wilbur has been gifted with… THE MANUAL.

Oh, the glorious manual. A hodgepodge collection of resources (literally) granted by the gods themselves. When Wilbur opens a module, strange alien symbols burn themselves supernaturally somewhere on the ship beside them. These symbols coincide with a section of the manual, which explains:

• A breakdown of the module and its parts
• How to diagnose the problem
• How to fix the problem

The manual is a beautiful resource, creatively designed like a different person wrote each section. Some pages are neatly printed as if torn from another manual, some are questionably handwritten. But don’t get too comfy yet. In the beginning, the modules are so simple that I could do an oil change in my sleep.

Also, the thoroughness of the instructions is not all created equal. Early on, the diagnoses and solutions are clearly laid out. Later on, the most complex mechanics are written on 1-2 pages as briefly as a quick jot on a sticky note. You don’t want to know the headaches I got peering from the manual to the module, back to the manual, to the module, squinting like a 90-year-old fixing a smartphone without her glasses.

Am I complaining? No. Because though this sometimes felt like Homework the Game, I had fun pouring over these strange pages about which panels to unscrew and which canister should be filled with which fluid. With more difficult modules, wrestling through the manual to discover what is actually wrong with the stupid thing, fixing it, then seeing the client toss you those sweet, sweet coins, was immensely satisfying.

The Galaxy’s Greasiest Time Loop

Theoretically, this is a perfectly normal mechanic job at a perfectly normal mechanic’s shop. That is, until you are inevitably executed by Uncle Chop himself. You see, in order to continue on your meager existence, every few days, Wilbur must make rent. A rent that exponentially increases. If he doesn’t: Boom. Splat. Zap. Dead. 

But that is not the end of Wilbur. In fact, Wilbur will quickly realize that he might never, ever end, for better or for worse.

Without spoiling the story, Wilbur will resurrect as many times as it will take you to finish the game. Though there are variations in jobs and (thankfully) much of the dialogue, certain events and conversations will repeat on particular days. Every. Single Loop.

Story-wise, this makes sense for Wilbur’s cosmic situation. He’s going back to the same point in time with each death. So, if you’re like me and just loooove repeatedly failing, you’re going to experience the same events so much you’ll have the repeated jobs memorized. 

But again, the generic jobs differ per run, so there’s still enough variation to keep things interesting. Plus, similar to Hades, certain characters have different dialogue with each additional run. Kudos to the writers for making that happen, because I died dozens of times, but still saw new lines of dialogue to keep things fresh.

And hey, Wilbur’s life doesn’t have to be same-old-same-old until he inevitably perishes. Sometimes, a new opportunity will present itself – one not seen before in other runs. Once I thought I had the loop memorized, that nothing in this greasy rocket shop could surprise me, a new path would open. A new, galaxy-shattering secret to be tossed into, fox headfirst.

Frantic or Focused?

Uncle Chop’s has two game modes: Frantic Fixing and Focused Fixing. Focused Fixing is the beginner friendly mode where you have unlimited time in a day but are capped at three jobs before the day ends. Frantic Fixing is for those veteran mechanics that can churn out jobs within a limited time period.

First of all, I would like to state that I am an idiot who initially chose Frantic Fixing, then promptly forgot another game mode ever existed. This resulted in many frustrated hours where I could only complete one full job before the timer ran out in the middle of the second one, putting me into debt because of the uncompleted job. I accidentally rediscovered the other game mode when I misclicked something in the menu and thank heavens the developers allow you to change game modes in between runs.

The two game modes are essential to please as many players as possible. I personally like to take my time and really study the manual before carefully reaching Wilbur’s fuzzy hand into the ships to fix ‘em up. But for the folks that are familiar with the manual, or who have godlike gaming abilities, Frantic Fixing allows you to rack up as many coins as possible on a time crunch. Thus, the adrenaline junkies and the grandmas are pleased.

Eldritch Assistance

Does Wilbur actually have to start from scratch each time he’s annihilated, piggy-style? No! Fortunately for Wilbur, he has caught the attention of some all-powerful dudes. These dudes have their own currency separate from the usual gold coins, and their followers – whose ships Wilbur will fix – will pay in this currency instead of gold. 

While Wilbur will lose all his regular currency upon his demise, the eldritch currency (called omens) transcends all loops. Meaning Wilbur can keep his eldritch balance to his grubby self. Omens can be used to unlock upgrades, which also transfer from loop to loop. However, equipment used for jobs, like new fuel canisters, can only be bought via gold and are lost in between runs.

As a chronic failure, I appreciated this eldritch assistance carrying through between runs. Meanwhile, losing the physical equipment is also good game design since it’s an incentive to, you know, not die.

Secrets Upon Secrets Upon Secrets

A very pleasant surprise while I was playing Uncle Chop’s was how rich the worldbuilding is. I’m a sucker for lore, and the game certainly has it. Over time, you’ll meet different factions with their own motivations and loyalties. These customers could have an impact on Wilbur’s greasy life, leading to different endings.

I won’t get into spoilers, but there were so many moments in this game that had me downright shocked, from ambient dialogue to game events. Uncle Chop’s pulls you into a comfortable repetition, then subverts expectations. It gets you used to the crude, nonchalant humor, then suddenly drops some deep emotional dialogue on your fox head. The writing is snappy, the characters memorable, and the world feels dynamic and real.

All Work and No Play Makes Me Insane

Look, I killed Wilbur a lot in my playthrough of Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop. And hey, if I make too many stupid mistakes and can’t make rent, that’s on me. Usually I’m rushing or misread the manual in some way. 

But if there is one thing I simply cannot abide, it is going into earthshattering debt when the game itself, not any of my own actions, led me down the path of death.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about bugs. They’re pretty uncommon, but after poking around some forums when experiencing one of my own, it’s not just me. My own unfortunate bug occurred when a safe that I needed to open would not open… even though I had correctly cracked it. When I ran out of chances, I went into so much debt I lost the run, and from my research, that’s happened to others as well.

Apart from bugs, there were some moments that I felt like the game was just too brutal. During a meteor shower, I ensured that all the fire was put out on the ship. In the one singular second it took me to walk back to the client, the ship caught fire while it was out of sight. This tore $400 out of my pocket the day before rent was due, casting me into deadly debt.  

The nature of the game is to grow and learn, which includes knowing which upgrades to get when (for example, maybe buying a roof for my shipyard would have prevented the aforementioned fire). So, if you’re looking to pick up this game, just be ready to practice patience with the rocket shop. It does not believe in handholding. 

Will you Shift the Cosmic Balance?

Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop is designed to be a brutal, soul-sucking grind, and it is. It’s not impossible to learn the mechanics of how to fix the rocket ships, but it takes time. If you’re the type of person that enjoys flexing your mental muscles and memorizing somewhat complex solutions to spaceship-related problems, then great. But if you’re looking for a more casual experience, this game likely isn’t for you in the long run. Still very fun, but if you want to get an ending, you’ve gotta lock in.

Though Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop destroyed me emotionally, I’d play it again. While I got frequently frustrated, it was offset by the satisfaction of finally, finally surpassing where I was in the last run. The writing is funny, the art style is inspired, and the music goes hard. 

The occasional bug notwithstanding, the loop of fixing ships and adding upgrades to the shop is well-designed. It’s the Dark Souls of rocket shops, so fixing ships can involve a lot of mental willpower. I’ll be the first to admit that I had to consult some online forums to help me interpret the manual, but I improved with each run. Uncle Chop’s will punch you in the stomach, then lift you to your feet by the scruff of your neck, complete with a smooch on the cheek.

Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop is $19.99 on Steam, and I’d recommend you take a peak.

NeverMore Niche received a free review key from Press Engine.