A lot of people ask me why I bother with collecting videogames. It used to just be concerned adults/parents/mentors that claimed I had some kind of hording brain issue, but I learned to ignore those squares pretty damn quickly. Then, as time has gone by, I have learned that this question has come from the most unlikely of sources: other gamers. “Why, Goggle Bob, do you buy all these physical releases of games when digital is so much easier? You don’t even have to leave the couch! You’ve filled an entire room with these mountains and mountains of cheap plastic. Why are you doing this to yourself? We’re worried about…” etc. I’ve heard it all before, and, for anyone willing to wait for an answer, I have one response: Burger King’s Sneak King.
Okay, that might not be my only response, but it’s definitely one of ‘em!
I am hopelessly addicted to buying videogames. I know this. I have this pathological need to own any given piece of videogame history entirely because… what? I think discs are somehow going to outlive my Playstation account? In fact, I want to say the first game that ever really got me out of my “no digital” shell was Mega Man 9, but I was downright excited for the recent physical release of Mega Man Legacy Collection 2 because it meant I could finally possess a physical version of the exact same game. Never mind that I still have my “original” Mega Man 9 download transferred to my WiiU, and never mind that I bought the game again on sale on Playstation 3 because I had nothing better to do with five bucks; no, ignore all of that, because I have a disc in a case that, let’s face it, is more likely to be destroyed than an entire videogame console. But it still somehow grants me this all important illusion of permanence. So I still debate on the merits of purchasing a digital version of the latest fighting game (you know the “whole game” isn’t on the disc! They release new DLC every other week!) and lament the lack of physical media for any digital game I love (hi, Sonic Mania). I need my totems of power, and if I don’t have a physical version, what’s the point? Playing a game for fun? Please.
But, while that is obviously a prominent psychological disease the likes of which medical science has not yet fully explained, I am aware of that problem, and I can overcome it. I have loosened my grip over the years, and I am capable of buying digital releases. Given the choice, I would prefer a physical release, but I can deal with purchasing, say, every Naruto game ever for fifteen bucks during a Playstation flash sale. I’m okay with that, because I know it isn’t a game (or franchise, whatever) that is “important” to me, so I can buy in bulk, stuff it all in the fridge, and… watch it rot.
And that’s my latest problem.
Like every other videogame hoarder (particularly those with Steam accounts), I now own about 200 downloaded titles that I have barely acknowledged (left alone actually played and beaten). This drives me absolutely insane, as sorting through these games is… not pleasant. I try to put them in appropriate folders! I try to organize my collection… but then there’s another flash sale, and I haven’t even played these games yet, so is this latest purchase a beat ‘em up or a “generic” action game? Dear God, maybe it’s an action-adventure with JRPG elements. I don’t even know what to do with that! Bah, just put it in the Dark Souls pile. And this all sounds innocuous, but when I finally feel like playing X-Men Arcade again, I have to search through not only multiple “what is that” games, but also numerous systems in an attempt to even remember where I downloaded that game in the first place. And don’t even get me started on those downloaded “collections”, as I don’t want to be reminded that I own every 20th Century Capcom release seventeen times over.
But the real losers here are the games. I can safely say that there is not a single game in my digital collection that I bought “just because”. In all honesty, from the Narutos to the experimental shoot ‘em ups to the occasional “is like Dark Souls, but” title, every game I have ever purchased, I have purchased because something about the game appealed to me, and that’s worth a Lincoln. “Sure, I don’t have time to play this game right now, but I’ll get to it when I have a chance,” I foolishly told myself. And then it went into the pile, lost forever under a mountain of Vita titles that I’m going to transfer to the system real soon, I swear, just give me another day to clean off that memory card. I’ll get to it!
But physical games! Physical games I’ll never lose! Because they take up so much space! And my failures and impulse buys are all right there on a shelf (many, many shelves, in fact). They all stare back at me, not lost to some cavernous hard drive, but teetering on the edge, ready to collapse and inevitably crush my fragile skull beneath a deluge of SNES cartridges. I can see (right now!) every physical videogame I’ve ever purchased, including those that came with a BK Value Meal.
Sneak King is a game wherein you, as the Burger Nightmare King, sneak around teeny tiny arenas, and attempt to deliver random BK menu items without being seen. It gets old after approximately twelve seconds. Big Bumpin’ is a party game that pumped all of its resources into making really interesting and ornate bumper car arenas, but forgot to design anything approaching fun gameplay. There’s a kind of air hockey mode available that ain’t bad, but everything else is sub-Monkey Ball. Well, the air hockey is sub-Monkey Ball, too, but you don’t notice its badness quite as much as the one where the best way to play is to hide in the corner forever. Come to think of it, that technique works in a bunch of Sneak King levels, too. Maybe these games don’t actually want you to play them?
But play them I shall! Because I have the memory of a goldfish, and actually seeing a game makes me about 1000% more likely to play the game than stowing it in the digital fridge. And, like eating some rotten Whopper from the fridge of your choice, I will barf at the sheer rancidness of this selection. It’s crap! I should know it’s crap! These are videogames that literally came with a side of fries! But I’ll play them again, because I bought a pair of plastic disc coffins, and, by God, I’m gonna play some Burger King nonsense this week!
So, in conclusion, I collect videogames because I’m a masochist. Glad we settled that.
FGC #323 Sneak King & Big Bumpin’
- System: Technically these are supposed to be Xbox 360 games, but they’re secretly Xbox titles that are abusing the 360’s backward compatibility. Everything is a lie.
- Number of players: Sneak King is a solo affair, Big Bumpin’ allows for up to four quickly bored players.
- Let’s talk about fast food: When I was growing up, the only fast food in town was Burger King. Since I was a child and had the palette of a heathen, any trip to Burger King was precious. Then, when I was in high school, a McDonald’s moved in, with a Wendy’s shortly thereafter. So the Burger King went out of business, because who can compete with the cardboard-flavored hockey pucks available at Wendy’s? And that was that. Now I have to drive like fifteen minutes if I want to eat a Whopper, which, thank goodness, rarely ever happens.
- Favorite Sneak King Level: Why does Sneak King start in a lumber yard? Why is that the first thing someone thought would be a reasonable location for a crazy plastic king to deliver breakfast items? Is there some kind of lumberjack breakfast thing being implied here? Also: how did this game get made?
- Favorite Big Bumpin’ Stage: I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Let’s say the blue one.
- Did you know? There’s also a third Burger King game from this era: Burger King Pocket Bike Racer. It was not in stock when I picked up its cousins. I have never regretted that fact.
- Would I play again: I guess? Nobody ever asks if Final Fantasy really ever happened, but that might come up with these titles. I must prove their existence to the masses!
What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Tiny Toon Adventures Buster’s Hidden Treasure for the Sega Genesis! I would expect the next article to be tiny, toony, and just a little loony. Please look forward to it!
Don’t even ask.