A game about building versions of model kits is, you'd think, the sort of project that might be birthed by the hipster hive mind of Shoreditch.

However Monzo is not the work of espresso-addled developers who flunked their art foundation and are now coding to fund their moustache wax habit; it's made by Madfinger.

For the uninitiated, this is the studio that gave us Dead Trigger - a game full of enough zombies, blood and guts to supply a George A. Romero movie set.

You get the sense that after spending months animating blood spurting forth from a rifle fire cannonade, the folks at Madfinger games all sat around a table together in silence - palms clammy and faces pale - before someone whispered in a voice barely audible above the soft hum of the air conditioning: “Can we make a nice game now?”

And thus, Monzo was born.

Fresh out the box

The game is marketed as a detailed, virtual experience of building over 30 models from scratch. You "open" your chosen kit's box and a manual appears in the top right-hand corner of the screen with simplified tips on how to build it.

Sort of like those little picture books balled up inside Kinder Surprise eggs.

To assemble the model, you drag the highlighted pieces (the game tells you which bits of kit are needed when) from a scrolling menu on the left of the screen to the model's skeleton in the centre.

The model itself is exquisitely detailed, and with a simple pinch motion you are able to pan and zoom into minute detail. It's surprisingly soothing.

Finish the model and you can custom paint pretty much every piece, plus jazz it up with a snazzy range of stickers.

You can then place your car, T-Rex or Leonardo Da Vinci machine (yes, that is an option) in front of a variety of coloured backgrounds to capture it in a photo forever.

Digital vs analogue

Trouble is, that makes me kind of sad. The beauty of building a model isn't sticking a picture of the finished product on Facebook, but the physical process of creation.

It's the smell of the glue, how the fiddly bits make you poke your tongue out in concentration, the Hulk-smash roar when it all goes wrong.

Put that in digital form and you anaesthetise the whole experience. Now, you could argue this is a game for model making enthusiasts looking for quick fun, and I could run with that if it weren't for Monzo's price tag.

The game itself is free to download, and you get your first model for free (a snazzy blue sports car that acts as a sort of tutorial.) Unfortunately, you have to pay for each kit after that.

Prices start from 67p, and skyrocket up to over £6 for some of the cooler tanks.

It's worryingly easy for things to get expensive fast here, but annoyingly hard to not feel short-changed.

I bought a model of a T-Rex for £4 and built it in six minutes - it's just not worth it. Even if you do have the creative freedom to paint it neon yellow.