"He died when I was a young age. I'm not sure I even remember him." "But because I'm his son, people expect the world of me. Literally."
Five years after the Samsung Incident. Five years after Broccoli Consumption Man fell.
Broccoli Consumption Simulator 3 is not a story of triumph. It's a story of inheritance. Of a son who never asked to wear his father's jumpsuit. Of a world that demands heroism from a boy who just wants to survive.
This is the story of what it means to carry a ghost on your shoulders.
When Samsung killed Broccoli Consumption Man in BCS2, the world didn't end cleanly. It lingered. Rotted. Waited.
BCS Boy was just a child when his father died. He doesn't remember the man's face clearly. Doesn't remember his voice. Only the expectations. The suffocating, impossible expectations of a world that lost its savior and decided his son would do just fine as a replacement.
Put on the green jumpsuit, BCS Boy. Save the children, BCS Boy. Be your father, BCS Boy.
But he's not his father. He's terrified. He hates this life. He's scared to die.
And Samsung knows it.
As if killing Broccoli Consumption Man wasn't enough, Samsung has now stolen every piece of broccoli from Broccoli Consumption Land and hidden it in the void of space. The children are starving. Cancer rates are climbing. The world is on a timer.
And there's only one person left who might—might—be able to stop it.
A scared kid in an ill-fitting jumpsuit who never wanted any of this.
BCS3 doesn't just tell a tragedy—it forces you to live it across four brutal arcade gauntlets, each one a test the boy was never prepared for:
Phase I: Arcade Broccoli Shooter (ArcadeBroccoliShooter.cs:1-203)
Steel Beam Boy—one of BCS Man's old friends—has the only spaceship that can reach orbit. But friendship doesn't come free, not anymore. Not in this world. BCS Boy must prove himself in a lightning-fast drag race, shooting broccoli while dodging trash in a frantic arcade test. Hit the broccoli. Avoid the garbage. Earn the right to continue your father's doomed mission.
The game doesn't care that you're scared. Neither does Steel Beam Boy. Prove yourself or go home.
Phase II: Broccoli Asteroids (Mason/BroccoliAsteroidsGameState.cs)
Space. The final frontier. Also the place where Cancer Installation Man patrols, installing cancer into the cosmos like a twisted parody of his fallen rival. Another tortured soul with a tragic backstory—a family lost to cancer, a man who wanted to do good but became the very thing he feared.
BCS Boy doesn't have time to listen to villain monologues. He cuts him off mid-speech. "Okay, bye!"
Because what else can you do when the universe keeps throwing broken people at you? You don't have the luxury of empathy when you're piloting a ship you barely know how to fly.
Phase III: Broccoli Gravitar (Zak/BroccoliGravitar.cs:1-387)
A gravity-warped nightmare where BCS Boy must navigate planetary fields, retrieve stolen broccoli, and survive Samsung's SungCruiser patrols (SungCruiser.cs). The physics don't forgive. Gravity pulls you into planets. Enemies fire in calculated spreads. One mistake and you're drifting into the void, another failure in a long line of failures.
This isn't heroism. This is desperation with a thrust vector.
The broccoli you collect isn't just a score—it's literal sustenance for a dying world. Every piece you miss is another child who won't make it through the winter. The weight is unbearable.
Phase IV: Cookie Master's Fattening (JonsGame/JonsGameState.cs)
Samsung has one last trick: Protag, the Cookie Master. A mind-controlled servant who exists only to fatten BCS Boy "to the breaking point" with junk food projectiles. Dodge the cookies. Survive the barrage. Watch your health drain as Samsung's final minion tries to turn you into everything your father fought against.
It's humiliating. It's exhausting. It's exactly the kind of petty cruelty Samsung specializes in.
When you finally face Samsung, he doesn't hesitate. No villain speech. No grand confrontation. Just:
"SAMSUNG BEAM!!!!!!"
And BCS Boy is finished. The game is over. The legacy ends.
Except.
Except.
From beyond death itself, Broccoli Consumption Man—bloodied, broken, but still there—appears to his son one final time:
"My son... you can't falter now." "Fight back against Samsung. And win." "I know you can do it."
Together, father and son—one living, one dead—fire the BROCCOLIHEALTH BEAM.
It's almost enough.
The game breaks the fourth wall and demands you scream your support at the screen. Shout your love for BCS Man and BCS Boy. Power up the beam with your voice, your hope, your belief that this broken kid can finish what his father started.
BROCCOLIHEALTH BEAM ULTRA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Samsung screams. Samsung falls. Samsung loses.
The broccoli is back. Samsung is defeated. The children can eat again.
But Broccoli Consumption Man doesn't get to stay. Ghosts never do. He fades back into the ether, leaving his son—still just a scared kid in a jumpsuit—to pick up the pieces.
"The road ahead is long, but I can't rest yet." "I still have to rebuild Broccoli Consumption Land."
There's no celebration. No parade. Just the quiet acknowledgment that the work is never finished. That being a hero isn't a moment—it's the rest of your life.
Seamless Multi-Game State Architecture — BCS3 pioneered a modular hybrid structure (Game1.cs:39-46) that chains four separate arcade games with four narrative visual novel segments into a single emotional journey. The StateManager singleton doesn't just transition between phases—it transforms the player's experience from reluctant hero, to space pilot, to gravitar survivor, to final confrontation. Each game is a different developer's vision unified under one grief-stricken narrative.
Script-Driven Visual Novel Engine — The VisualNovelState class (VisualNovelState.cs:1-309) loads entire story scripts from external text files, parsing background changes, character positioning, dialogue flow, and music cues in real-time. The format is brutal in its simplicity—SONG, BACKGROUND, CHARACTERS, DIALOGUE—but it allows for rapid narrative iteration. The story can be rewritten without touching code.
Wide character support (steelBeamBoy, samsung, cancerInstallationMan) automatically adjusts sprite positioning for dramatic effect.
Persistent Theme Across Developers — Four different developers (Keenan, Mason, Zak, Jon) each contributed a complete arcade game segment, yet the project maintains tonal and thematic cohesion through Corey's visual novel framework. This is collaborative development at scale—everyone builds their piece, but the narrative glue holds it together into something greater than its parts.
Ghost Dad as Gameplay Mechanic — The final confrontation literally requires the player to believe hard enough to summon supernatural assistance. It's absurd. It's fourth-wall-breaking. It's exactly the kind of desperate, irrational hope that defines BCS3's entire thesis.
MonoGame 3.8 / .NET 8 — Rebuilt from the ground up on modern frameworks, BCS3 abandoned the Python roots of BCS1 and evolved past the early MonoGame foundations of BCS2. This is a mature codebase running on mature technology, even as its protagonist fumbles through immaturity and fear.
BCS1 asked: "What if eating broccoli could change the world?"
BCS2 answered: "What if you changed the world and they destroyed you for it anyway?"
BCS3 whispers: "What if your father died saving the world, and now everyone expects you to do the same?"
Every phase of BCS3 recontextualizes heroism through the lens of unwanted legacy:
- The spaceship you must earn from your father's friends
- The villains who mirror your father's struggles
- The battles you fight in ships and jumpsuits that aren't yours
- The ghost who appears only when you've given up
- The world you must rebuild, not because you want to, but because there's no one else
BCS3 was never about becoming Broccoli Consumption Man.
It was about becoming the person who could live with his memory.
The README for BCS1 celebrated revolutionary game design. The README for BCS2 chronicled persecution and suffering. This README exists to tell you that sometimes the hardest thing a hero can do is survive their predecessor.
BCS Boy didn't want the jumpsuit. Didn't want the responsibility. Didn't want to stare down Samsung while his father's ghost watched from the void.
But he did it anyway.
And when the dust settled, when the broccoli returned to Broccoli Consumption Land and the children could eat again, he didn't get to rest. He got to rebuild. To carry on. To live with the knowledge that his father's legacy now rested on shoulders that never asked for the weight.
Such is the burden of inheritance.
Such is the cost of being a hero's son.
"Truth be told... I hate this life." "I'm scared to die." "But there's no one else to do the job."
Built with MonoGame 3.8. Powered by .NET 8. Haunted by the dead.
Broccoli Consumption Studios didn't just make a sequel. They made a requiem.
- Windows / macOS / Linux
- .NET 8 Runtime
- MonoGame 3.8
- 1920x1080 display recommended
- A willingness to shout at your screen in the final battle
# Clone the repository
git clone https://github.com/yourusername/BCS3.git
# Build the project
dotnet build
# Run the game
dotnet run --project BCS3/BCS3.csprojVaries by game phase—each arcade segment has unique controls revealed during gameplay.
Press SPACE to advance visual novel dialogue.
Scream at your monitor when prompted. This is not optional.
- Broccoli Consumption Simulator (BCS1) - where it all started
- Broccoli Consumption Simulator 2 (BCS2) - where heroes go to die
- Broccoli Consumption Simulator 3 (BCS3) - where sons inherit their fathers' wars
"Maybe... just maybe... I can make things right again." — BCS Boy, carrying the weight of the world