Konami's 'Deliver at All Costs' is Your Hilarious GTA6 Substitute

So, the suits at Rockstar pulled the emergency brake on Grand Theft Auto VI, leaving us high and dry 'til May 26, 2026. A whole year, pal! A whole year of staring at the wall, dreaming of digital carjackings. But don't start polishing your knuckledusters in boredom just yet. There's a whisper on the wires, a rumble from the Konami camp... they call it Deliver at All Costs. Think of it as the gloriously unhinged, pocket-sized sandbox that'll let you unleash your inner maniac without needing a PhD in criminal enterprise.

Top-Down Mayhem, 1950s Style, Baby!

Forget Vice City's neon haze for a hot minute. We're diving headfirst into St. Monique, a quaint coastal town circa 1959, that's about to get a rude awakening. You're Winston Green, a fella whose luck ran out somewhere between a bad poker hand and a worse business decision, now stuck delivering packages that are, shall we say, temperamental. The whole shebang plays out from that classic, god-like top-down view – like the good ol' days of GTA 1 and 2, giving you a front-row seat to the glorious, fender-bending ballet of destruction as entire diners become drive-thrus (unintentionally, of course).

Every Delivery: A Masterclass in Catastrophe (and Comedy Gold)

These ain't your Amazon Prime deliveries, chief. Each job is a fresh slice of physics-driven pandemonium:

• The One That Got Away (Almost): You thought hauling lumber was tough? Try wrestling a live, thrashing marlin in your pickup bed, its every flail threatening to send you fishtailing into the nearest haberdashery.
• Flight of the Fool: Tasked with transporting a high-powered helium inflator? Pro-tip: keep all four wheels on the tarmac, lest your truck become an unwilling contestant in St. Monique's impromptu (and very brief) hot-air balloon festival.
• Micro Machines, Major Mayhem: Delivering wind-up cars to the local ankle-biters sounds easy, right? Wrong. Prepare for pint-sized police cruisers, driven by unseen gremlins, to ram you with the fury of a thousand scorned traffic wardens.

And the cherry on this chaotic sundae? St. Monique is your personal demolition derby. Every storefront, every picket fence, every suspiciously placed fruit cart is just begging to be redecorated by your bumper. The locals? Oh, they'll get their dander up, forcing you into hilariously desperate roadside patch-ups or frantic scrambles to bolt on upgrades like hydraulic doors that'll "politely" yeet pedestrians into next Tuesday.

Why This Glorious Mess Will Tide You Over:

Instant Gratification Mayhem: Forget epic sagas. These are ten-minute blasts of pure, unadulterated chaos. Perfect for when you need to blow off steam (and a few buildings).

Pimp Your Wreck: Unlock a garage full of questionable jalopies. Slap on some "armor" (sheet metal and hope), or get fancy with spring-loaded bumpers for maximum comedic effect.

Become a One-Person Wrecking Ball: Turn entire city blocks into your personal art installation of rubble and twisted metal. And that beautiful debris? It stays put, a testament to your destructive genius.

Nostalgia with Nitro: It's got that fixed-camera, chunky-pixel charm, slathered in a jazzy ’50s soundtrack, but with all the glorious particle effects modern tech can spew.

The Lowdown on the Launch:

• Go-Time: Mark your calendars, grease monkeys: 22 May 2025
• Where to Wreck: PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X/S, and PC
• The Gift That Keeps on Giving (Trouble): Konami's promising FREE content drops all the way through Spring 2026. Think holiday-themed havoc and a "Night Shift" score-attack mode that sounds suspiciously like a roguelike endurance run of bad decisions.

The Straight Dope:

Look, Deliver at All Costs ain't gonna fill the skyscraper-sized hole Grand Theft Auto VI left in your heart. It’s not trying to. It's the shot of pure, unadulterated, fender-bending fun your soul craves. It's the cherry bomb in the mailbox of your boredom. So, strap in, ignore those 'Handle With Care' stickers, and show St. Monique what 'special delivery' really means. Trust me, you'll thank me later (probably from behind the wheel of a flaming ice cream truck).