Welcome to the Bakers, Worst Sitcom Family Ever.

 Welcome to the Bakers, Worst Sitcom Family Ever.

A Resident Evil: Biohazard Story Pt 1




By iPauleyxx









My Arm Fell Off, and Chat Laughed


So I booted up Resident Evil Biohazard for the first time on stream, which had been requested from my better half, Bookish_Thunder, for a while now, and let me tell you, within five minutes my chat was laughing, and I was already regretting everything. Ethan gets a weird email from his missing wife, and instead of deleting it like a normal human, he drives straight into the swamp. Naturally, I follow along, controller in hand, making the same terrible decisions he does.

We reach the Baker property, which resembles HGTV’s Fixer Upper if Chip and Joanna had given up halfway through and demons had taken over. But hey, the chat wants chaos, so in we go.

The Guest House Disaster

The exploration starts simple enough… until Mia shows up and immediately switches from “loving wife” to “full horror movie villain.” One minute she’s apologizing, the next she’s yeeting me across the room.

Then the big moment hits on stream: she cuts my arm off. Clean off, like she is auditioning for the Role of Leatherface in a New Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboot. Chat is losing its mind. I’m screaming. Ethan is bleeding out like a side quest NPC. 3 things happened all in that moment, 1: I screamed, 2: I pooped my pants, 3: I lost my arm. Luckily, Ethan is right-handed. It’s a whole vibe.

But the game isn’t done. Later, the Bakers just staple my arm back on like they’re fixing a loose shelf. No doctors. No anesthesia. Just household office supplies. Chat skipped the insurance talk and went straight to ouch. Meanwhile, Ethan’s day just keeps getting worse.

Family Dinner From Hell

Next thing I know, I wake up tied to a dining chair. The Baker family is surrounding me like I just joined the worst sitcom in TV history. Imagine The Addams Family, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Full House all mixing together—and every single one is trying to kill you.

  • Jack is the dad who thinks “quality time” means swinging a shovel at my skull.

  • Marguerite is the mom whose cooking I would not feed to my worst in-game enemy.

  • Lucas? Oh, we’ve officially scheduled an appointment for him to get his a$$ whooped. He earned it. Chat approved. Trust me, it’s on the calendar

And then there’s Grandma…
Just… sitting there...
Silent.
Staring.



Escaping the House

Once I break free, Jack starts chasing me like I just stole his last beer and the remote. On stream, I’m desperately trying to solve puzzles while chat offers the emotional support of a wet napkin. But honestly? They kept the hype alive, welcomed every newcomer like we were hosting a BBQ, and delivered top-shelf laughter the entire time.

After a few near-death moments, several panic sprints, and enough yelling to scare my neighbors, I finally stumble my way into the basement.

The Processing Area

Downstairs is where the game levels up the nightmare. The Molded monsters crawl out of the walls like cursed biscuit dough. I wasted half my ammo screaming and firing at shadows, but eventually pushed through.

Finally, FINALLY reach the door to the Dissection Room.
I look at the door.
The door looks at me.
Chat tells me to open it.
I tell chat absolutely not.

And that’s where Part 1 of the stream ends.
No dissection today. My heart rate needed a break.


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