As the umpteenth outing for the looooong-running Prince of Persia franchise, it's hard not to describe the newest chapter, The Forgotten Sands, as anything but "predictable," which seems like something Simon Cowell might say were he a game critic instead of (or as well as) pop culture's most affable megalomaniac.

In fact, given the chance, there's little doubt he'd have an impromptu litany of advice, metaphors and catch-phrase gems at the ready while Prince of Persia: Forgotten Sands stood there and took it, mildly bemused look on its face thinly veiling mild fear and loathing and not a small amount of confusion for all the English accented thickness and raucous crowd that's either standing in ovation or standing up to leave, not sure which.

"Ya know, Prince," Cowell would say. "You've been at this a long time now and you've always been consistently good, well, except for that time when you tried something a little darker and edgier that was clearly out of your comfort zone."

A small smile would flit across Prince's face in rueful remembrance.

"But at this stage of the game," Cowell would continue, "you've got to step it up a bit if you want to stand out in this competition," and maybe throw in an analogy to a generic coffee shop that featured a lot of swords and an infinite supply of smashable vases containing health rejuvenators.

"I mean," Simon would mean, "there're a lot of games out there that feature guys running around in their pajamas, jumping from ledge to ledge and climbing the walls and hacking bad guys to death. I think you've just played it safe by offering us more of the same, and sort of riding on your charm and relying on your earlier performances to get you through.

"I don't know," Cowell would feign to admit, "but after that performance, I'm not sure if people would rush out to buy tickets to your concert when they can get the same thing from the local karaoke bar (bargin-bin)."

Prince would roll his eyes for the dreaded metaphor spearing him in the heart.

"But I will say this" Cowell would say before a pregnant pause, readying the subject for a morsel of praise as the boos died down. "Your Forgotten Sands rendition has got what it takes to be a great game. It took a little while to get going but things got a little more complex in the middle there, which was very refreshing - and it really worked when the back up singers came out one by one to augment your skill set and upgrade your sword and give you superpowers."

Cowell would look around as the audience cheers, proximate a nod by moving his head forward and back at the shoulders and pursing his lips. Randy would grunt "yeah" in supportive agreement.

"And I really liked that last bit when things got really big and you showed everyone why you're in this competition to begin with," Simon would continue, surfing the wave of approval, "and the big ending was a little flashy, a little over-the-top, but you made it work."

A second small smile would flit across Prince's face, accompanied by a quick, almost imperceptible bow of appreciation and maybe a voiceless "thank you" would play across his lips.

"Having said that," Cowell would say after saying that, "I'm not sure if Forgotten Sands was the right choice for you, because it kinda plays it safe. I mean come on now, evil genie? Zombies made of sand? The angry brother, the beautiful girl? It was utterly predictable. Even if you showed some new tricks like freezing water spouts and then using them as poles to swing from or shimmy up, they're still just poles, aren't they? And the rewinding time trick that lets you try things again instead of just dying was the same thing you showed us last week. I dunno, it's like you're trying to be God of War and Spider Man and Uncharted and Tomb Raider and Batman and, I dunno, Prince of Persia all rolled into one sort of homogenized, commercially acceptable game we've all played before."

The crowd would turn, boo incessantly, forcing Simon to add his obligatory catch-all, end-all "sorry."

Que theme song. Ryan Seacrest would saunter over, some clever retort on his tongue ready to assuage the sting of a seriously mixed message.