You look at your Squeeze-Scanner. A new target blips: a politician with a quadruple-bun anomaly.
In the pixel-slick, neon-drenched world of Gluteus Maximus: Revenge of the Rump , you don’t play as a knight, a mage, or a stealth archer. You play as , a disgraced former bakery inspector who stumbled into the most ridiculous—and lucrative—profession of the 23rd century: Butt-Bun Hunter . butt-bun hunter rpg
“Time to hunt some buns.”
Credits roll over a chiptune remix of “Baby Got Back.” Post-credits scene: SYSTEMA reboots as a sentient toilet plunger, now working as your sidekick. It asks, “Same time tomorrow, hunter?” You look at your Squeeze-Scanner
“Rule one, rookie,” Max grunts, oiling his pneumatic cheek-separator. “Never trust a silent fart. That’s a spore-bomb waiting to go off. Rule two? The bigger the bun, the bigger the bounty.” You play as , a disgraced former bakery
The premise is simple. In a post-truth, post-physics, post-dignity era, hyper-intelligent, mutant fungi known as have infested the world’s rear ends. These aren’t just any fungi. They’re sentient, cheeky (pun intended), and they grant the host explosive powers—both literal and metaphorical. The only way to stop a Fartspore outbreak? Extract the infected “Butt-Bun” before it detonates.
The final boss fight? You vs. , a moon-sized, pulsating fungus-rear that fires homing farts (dodge by pressing A and feeling deep regret). You win not by destroying it, but by teaching it empathy. You pull out the Mirror of Shame , reflect its own absurdity back at it, and whisper: “You’re more than just a butt. You’re a person with a butt.”
© 2026 Nachwuchsstiftung Maschinenbau gGmbH