Tobacco Shop Simulator Review: An Addictive, Soulless Clone I Hate Myself For Playing
Ever wondered what would happen if a developer took Supermarket Simulator, dragged it through a text-to-image AI generator, and slapped a different theme on it like a cheap coat of paint? Well, you don't have to wonder, because Tobacco Shop Simulator is here, and it's the latest piece of addictive, unoriginal slop that I now have a deep and shameful relationship with.
A Familiar, Comforting Grind
Look, let's not pretend this is Shakespeare. The gameplay loop is as familiar as my own reflection after a three-day bender. You order boxes. You put shit on shelves. You ring up customers who look like they were procedurally generated in 2005. You hire braindead AI staff to stock things in the most inefficient way imaginable. You expand. It's the same dance we've done a thousand times in a thousand other simulators. And yet... my lizard brain loves it. There's a primal, zen-like satisfaction in neatly stocking a shelf of cartoonish vapes that I'm not proud to admit. It's the perfect game for when you want to feel productive without producing a single goddamn thing of value in the real world.
THe Art of the Copy-Paste
This game isn't just inspired by other titles; it feels like it was built from their scavenged corpses. The mechanics, the UI, even the goddamn keybinds feel like they were lifted directly from a half-dozen other games. I tried to hit Escape to open the menu while holding a box, and nothing happened. It's not a bug; it feels like the developers literally forgot to code it in. It's a level of laziness that's almost impressive. And let's talk about some of the "art." A few of these assets have the soulless, six-fingered sheen of a cheap AI generator, turning what could be a charming shop into a gallery of the digital uncanny valley.
Better with Friends (Because Misery Loves Company)
The only thing that makes this kind of soulless grind truly bearable is sharing the pain with friends. Getting a crew together to run the shop transforms the experience. The slow, tedious progression becomes a frantic team effort. The janky controls and wonky physics become a source of laughter instead of rage. It's the only way to play this game. Suffering through the early levels alone, where you can't even afford an AI cashier yet, is a one-way ticket to a full-blown existential crisis at 3 AM.
So, Why Am I Still Here?
So, the game is a lazy, unoriginal, AI-touched clone. It's boring. It's slow. Why the hell do I have so many hours in it? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's the simple satisfaction of numbers going up. Maybe it's the perfect "turn your brain off and listen to a podcast" game. It's the gaming equivalent of eating an entire bag of cheap chips at 2 AM. You know it's bad for you, you feel sick afterward, but in that moment, you just can't stop. It’s a problem. I’m the problem. These games are designed to hook into the most basic parts of our brains, and goddammit, it works.
The Verdict
So, do I recommend Tobacco Shop Simulator? Fuck if I know. It's another piece of shovelware in a digital landfill overflowing with simulators. It's lazy. It's uninspired. It represents a creatively bankrupt trend in gaming. But I'll probably be playing it again tonight to unlock the next shelf upgrade.
Buy it if you hate yourself but also derive a sick pleasure from neatly organized shelves. Or just go play one of the ten other identical games you probably already own. Whatever. I need to go check my stock levels.
Score: 5.0/10 - It's digital junk food. I hate it. See you online.
We at NLM received a key for this game for free, this however didn't impact our review in any way.