Nightsoil is a sombre little top-down narrative adventure about a gong farmer – that is, a collector of human waste – in 1854 London, at the height of the cholera epidemic. Gong farmers were, I understand, required to work after sunset, to avoid causing revulsion among the decent folk. In this case, you’re a gong farmer at the end his tenure, working his final shift alongside his trusty carthorse Ol’ Boy, while reminiscing about his bygone youth and the happier days that might have been.

This would seem to be an original and moving testament to a despised profession at a very grim time. Except that it’s from the developers of the self-explanatory Top Steed and the “cozy puzzler” Back to Stables, which features a horse called “mischievous George” who looks like he never took a shit in his life. Say what you like about Miniscule Mayhem, but they’re committed to the full palette of equine emotions. They’re also fond of turd emojis on social media. Remember when Ben Stiller decided he could do heavyweight drama? Similar emotions.

I like that Nightsoil exists, and genuinely admire Miniscule Mayhem for embracing subject matter that is probably as uncommercial as you can get without inflicting stigmata on the player, but after half an hour with it, this game does often feel like a parody of games that propose to undertake Serious Themes. It has hand-drawn flashback sequences featuring lines like “He knew, at that moment, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.” It also has a Horse Comfort gauge, decreased by the sight of rat swarms.

It’s hard to do gauges in games of this demeanour without looking silly, and while I’ve yet to complete Nightsoil (see below), I’m not convinced it sticks the landing. You’ll need to manage the Comfort gauge as you explore a small urban layout, shovelling shit into barrels by hitting E when you’re told to, unless you’re too nauseated or need to empty your can. You’ll also need to feed Ol’ Boy hay from a sack to keep him calm while you’re off gong farming, and periodically draw water from a well to quench his Thirst.

The horse-and-cart mechanics themselves are a bit simulation-y. To get Ol’ Boy trotting, you tap A and D rhythmically; to back up, you hold both keys at once. Ol’ Boy’s turning circle ain’t great, so it’s hard to gallop around corners without snagging a doorstep and wasting precious seconds putting Ol’ Boy into reverse. This is unfortunate, because Ol’ Boy really loves dying of thirst. Ol’ Boy holds water like a sieve made of cobwebs on the surface of Mercury. At such times, one thinks wistfully of Mischievous George, who always appears fully hydrated and also gets to open treasure chests, and wear hats.

Serious Games definitely need to be wary of quick-time events, whatever David Cage might tell you. QTEs are innately daft. Nightsoil did not get this memo, though again, I wonder if they’re being satirical here. If Ol’ Boy becomes too Discomforted, he’ll refuse to move, and you’ll need to hop off the cart and make soothing noises. If he’s super-stressed out, possibly because you keep galloping him into rat swarms, you must complete a potentially lethal waveform QTE in which you pat his nose or murmur reassurances on cue.

My playthrough ended with one of these QTEs. Alas, my fumbling ministrations only further rattled the noble creature (the controls are a bit janky, in my defence). After a few rounds of button-bashing, his poor heart gave out. “’Ol Boy, no!” wailed the gong farmer in despair, as the screen faded to black. I couldn’t stop laughing. Was this the aim, Miniscule Mayhem?

Had I managed to play more of Nightsoil before writing this up, I might have discovered one of the following: a) Nightsoil is, in hindsight, a heartbreaking interactive work of period scholarship, whose initial awkwardness soon fades from the mind, b) Nightsoil is secretly a Mischievous George spin-off, guest directed by David Cage c) some secret third thing. If you fancy a go, it’s on Steam right now.