Dinosaur! Rawr! Sheep! RAWR! Don't eat the sheep! Rawr?! Guide them! Guide them! Rawr! Eat that! RAWR! RAWR! Vegetables! Bite the vegetables!! RAWR!!! More sheep! Grass! Make them eat grass! RAWR!! Watch out for the giant STOMP! robot foot... Boys and girls, it's Adult Swim time with a delightful yarn of sheep herding from Megadev, One Man And His Dinosaur, an action reflex game. But there is no man, just a herding dinosaur. The man appears to die somewhere between the menu and the game. And the dinosaur does not actually take the herd anywhere.

Once you clear the final stage, it loops right back to the green pastures of first level England. This game is a conveyor belt, continuing endlessly while you try and pile on the points. It's pretty simple: Use your mouse to move the dinosaur (which in turn moves the herd) and click on things that need to be eaten. These do not include the sheep. You will try to eat the sheep, however... the temptation is just too big. Fortunately plenty of other things stumble along to get chewed on. Badgers, lions, crazed watermelon people... The levels are littered with other obstacles, from spiked pits and acid pools to pylons shooting electricity. You gather points by eating things, picking up food and guiding flocks over grass. Lose all your sheep and it's game over. Fortunately rogue sheep can be added to your flock if you can nudge them in time.

One Man And His Dinosaur is a typical 'twitch' game, where fast mouse reflexes and good accuracy gets you ahead of the rest. Very good pixel art gives it a lot of charm; it's nice to see Megadev reach up to the same visual level seen in Super Sloth Bomber. There are also small touches galore, like the numerous emoticons the sheep make (from LOL'ing at something's fate to O.O when surviving a close shave). But the actual gameplay might be a love/hate thing. The dinosaur and sheep respond differently depending on whether you click or simply move your mouse.

Levels are tolerably short (and impressively varied), but the obstacles are harrowing and numerous. Devolving into haphazard clicking and moments of freaking out can reduce your flock of woolly mammals with frustrating quickness. And sometimes it's just plain bad luck, like a rampaging rhino or the annoying moving bushes in the vegetable level, that decimates your flock to near nought. When luck is a requirement to do well in a game, it might be a bit too much for some. But who ever said being a dinosaur herding sheep through a robot war zone would be easy?

Play One Man And His Dinosaur