Sherlock Holmes once said that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however implausible, must be true. (He figured this out while passing a stone in the middle of a philosophy lecture during his freshman year at university. You can read all about it in "The Case of the Ruined Pants," assuming you haven't already seen the movie.) Wideload takes this theory to its logical end by positing the implausible-but-not-impossible as the only worthwhile goal. It's the white whale, the highest mountain, the all-you-can-eat burrito bar. It's a load so wide, we had to call it Wideload.

We're not going to spend a lot of time on this page tooting our own horn. It's a bit distasteful, the sort of thing those guys at other game companies might do when they're not killing puppies. We hope to be successful enough someday to hire people who will do that sort of thing for us. Hey, it could be you! Has a friend or loved one ever told you that your obsequious sycophancy is an abomination unto god? If so, you may have an exciting future as a member of Wideload's "street team," a group of volunteers just like you who live in viaducts and talk to garbage. Email abandonallhope@wideload.com if interested.

There are only a few things you really need to know about Wideload. To wit:

Wideload is a game company based in Chicago. Yes, we're one of THOSE companies who live in flyover country and don't get the chance to have lots of kissy-face lunches and time-sink meetings with the heavy hitters of the game industry. We have to content ourselves with the ability to sleep at night and look ourselves in the mirror each morning. Such is life.

Wideload employs veterans of the game industry, including several people who used to work at Bungie Software, developers of Halo and some other great games you are probably not cool enough to remember.

Wideload's creative focus and production model are both new and different. We know you hear other companies saying this all the time. They buy you a Mega Meal at Burgeriffic - with the sauce on the side, just the way you like it - and they hold your hand and stare soulfully into your eyes and say "We have an innovative production model" or "We're pushing the creative envelope." And every time you fall for it, the evening ends with you bent over a garbage can in a gas station restroom, thinking of England as your soul suffers a most undignified letdown Yet Again. We're not going to toy with your emotions like that. If you ask, we'll tell you everything you want to know about our production model - things like "It's similar to film production, with a small proven creative team handling the all-important tasks" and "Keeping things small allows us to avoid the massive overheads of other developers." We'll even tell you about our plan to differentiate our action games with an emphasis on humor. We may even tell you a joke at that point to illustrate our point.

Q. What's orange and looks good on hippies?
A. Fire.

Why go to all this trouble when we could be like all the other game developers and eat your curly fries without even asking? To answer that question we must turn (as always) to the English metaphysical poet John Donne, who said, "No man is an island." If John Donne were alive today, he might say, "Help! I've been buried alive!" Then, perhaps, he would say, "Having had a few centuries to think the matter over, I now realize a man CAN be an island, but only if it is the Isle of Man. Thank you very much, I'll be here all week." Finally, he would say, "No game developer is an island, not even Wideload Games, the last great hope of independent game development." We're not about to contradict one of the great poets of all time, especially since in this scenario he appears to be immortal. We're going to take his advice and reach out to everyone who thinks the best games are the ones made by a small group of oddballs, without interference from money grubbing suits or marketing bozos. If you want formula, go suck on a bottle. Wideload caters to more sophisticated tastes.