Tag Archives: childhood

FGC #466 Mario Paint

Wobbles!There will never be another game in my life like Mario Paint.

First of all, in the only instance of this ever happening, I can’t decide whether I should blame myself or Nintendo Power for my initial predicament in 1992. On one hand, there was the propaganda department of the almighty Nintendo correctly identifying that a gussied up Microsoft Paint with a random doodad controller accessory might not be the billion seller that is the usual anything with “Mario” in the title, and their decision to hype Mario Paint from here to the moon was, in retrospect, pretty inevitable. And, yes, as a young lad who was not even old enough to earn a paltry fee for lawn mowing, I eagerly devoured that marketing and demanded my parents purchase Mario Paint right now, I don’t care if it’s August, Dad, I need Mario Paint like the deserts of World 2 need the rain (or at least a less angry sun). Nintendo Power had worked its usual magic on Wee Goggle Bob, and it was kind of inevitable that I’d beg my parents for some sweet Mario Painting from Summer to Winter.

But why did I give a damn? Sure, Nintendo Power is great at riling up preteens on the promise of new Ninja Turtles, but it’s not like I fell for every campaign that showed up in my mailbox. I couldn’t give less of a crap about Ken Griffey Jr., and Nintendo Power claimed he was the second coming of Bo Derek (which, I am to understand, is a good thing?). And, as exciting as a new, two-button controller ever sounded, it wasn’t like I needed that mouse for Gradius or other games like how the Game Genie instantly became my most preferred peripheral. And the general concept of Mario Paint? It wasn’t like I was dumb enough to believe Mario’s presence was suddenly going to make me a better artist.

Oh, wait. Never mind. That’s exactly what I believed

MAAAARIO PAINT HOORAHI’m an engineer from birth. My grandfather built cars back when that meant something. My other grandfather literally invented food additives we use today (editor’s note: I feel I should note that this is not actually a lucrative field, and I am not the heir to the immense fennel fortune), and later became a science teacher. Both of my grandmothers ran entire businesses despite receiving what appears to have been the worst education available. And my parents… well… I guess my mother is pretty good at charades. Point being that my heritage seems to be that I come from a long line of people that “figure things out”. And I used this skill from a young age to be a born and bred computer geek. If it had some “computer-y” component, I was good at it, despite the obvious handicap of being a child (and, reminder, all children are dumb as rocks). So, while I was terrible at drawing (a skill I had always hoped to possess innately, as practice is for nerds), clearly Mario would catapult me to artistic stardom. And there’s an animation feature! I always wanted to make my own cartoons, so not only would my new artistic skills generate the next Mona Lisa, I could also create the next Bugs Bunny while I was at it. Mario Paint wasn’t just a videogame (Dad!), it was a ladder to the lofty heights of unbridled artistic expression.

And I can assure you that I reminded my parents of this certainty at every available moment. I’m not convinced there ever was or ever could be a gift that I bugged my parents about more. I remember going to Sears for a live demo of Mario Paint, receiving a free hat, and wearing said hat constantly while begging like a hungry dog. I remember August, and a vacation that consisted primarily of stating how this Disney World is pretty okay, but have you heard of this new Mario Paint? I remember dragging my Mom to garage sales in the Fall, and hoping against all odds and reason that a pre-owned copy of Mario Paint would have found its way into the neighborhood wares. The concept of a videogame-based Halloween “treat” was introduced to my parents. A similar plan may have been hatched for Thanksgiving. Through it all, I was unable to obtain a Mario Paint, so it was all up to Christmas. Surely, by the jolliest of holidays, I would finally have the game that had led to an excruciating, ostensibly infinite four month wait.

And then I got Mario Paint for Christmas. Hooray! Happy ending!

… What? You expected some sort of horrible twist? Come on, this is the official Goggle Bob Christmas Special for the year. You want bad vibes, wait until Wankery Week.

And here’s some further good vibes: Mario Paint might be the most important videogame I ever owned.

Play it again, MarioLet’s get this out of the way right now: Mario Paint did not make me an amazing artist. Despite the fact that I can find all the secret exits in Super Mario World, somehow welding Mario to the experience did not instantly make me an expert in the rewarding field of properly utilizing the spraypaint tool. Nor did it allow me to create the astounding and inevitable Goggle Bob: The Animated Series, as the animation feature in Mario Paint is comically limited (nine frames of animation can barely animate Mickey Mouse’s tiny shorts). And, frankly, while the music composer section of Mario Paint has always been some kind of low-key remarkable, the fact that it didn’t use proper musical notation always bothered my “concert band”-based brain. My oft-stated reason for needing Mario Paint -that it would improve my own artistic prospects beyond anything a mundane set of markers could ever achieve- was clearly an unmitigated catastrophe. Hell, I would have been better off with those (lame) colored pencils and (boring) paper, as at least you can keep paper. Mario Paint only had one dedicated save slot! Any given masterpiece must be erased if you came up with something new.

Except… that wasn’t completely true. Yes, Mario Paint had a paltry save battery for preserving Mario Paint projects, but it was outputting to a television. And, thanks to Nintendo Power and its Mario Paint strategy guide (how could I resist such a periodical?), I was informed that there was a way to configure your Super Nintendo so it output through a VCR. Thus, with the marvelous power of a VHS tape, I was able to record all of my creations! Hooray! Naturally, my dad and I had to learn how to actually configure this sort of cable setup in our actual home (and still leave everything working so we could tape Quantum Leap), so I picked up a crash course in how cabling works thanks to a desperate desire to record the movements of my modified mushroom sprites (and if you’re thinking “so you learned how to hook up a TV, big deal”, then I will remind you how many people in this country still can’t figure out how to make an HDMI cable produce Law & Order on a proper input channel). Screw itAnd, while Mario Paint never left my console for long, this new configuration allowed me to record other games, too. I was able to record the entirety of Final Fantasy 3! Chrono Trigger! I could review these amazing stories and experiences in a manner that didn’t involve having to deal with a monster encounter every seven steps! I could finally absorb my favorite scenes and moments at my own carefully controlled (with a rewind button) pace.

Yes, I’m saying that without Mario Paint, I never would have gained a greater appreciation for the minutia of particular videogames. Without Mario Paint in 1992, there would be no Gogglebob.com in 2019.

(And I’m also going to claim I invented the concept of a video Let’s Play when I discovered I could hook a microphone into the whole arrangement. But that’s neither here nor there.)

And I suppose Mario Paint helped this author through a few more post-1992 projects. Mario Paint may have been limited, but it was still centuries ahead of any animation or “digital” tools that were available through my public education. I wowed many a junior high teacher with “real” animations on VHS tapes for projects where the best rival students could offer was a dinky poster. Some other kid turned in a clay model of a hedgehog? Bitch, please, I got Sonic on my side, and I can marry Genesis gameplay to Super Nintendo-based fun facts. In retrospect, the lettering tools of Mario Paint allowed me to have Powerpoint presentations a solid decade before that program became the bane of every “working lunch” (It’s just a stupid meeting where we get pizza, Debra). And while we’re talking about future innovations, I never did gain that dexterity to actually freely “draw” something that isn’t just an indescribable blob of pixels, but the general skills of Mario Paint eventually did transfer to skills in Adobe Photoshop. Waluigi?There is a direct correlation between the little paint-fill man in Mario Paint, and the ability to properly magic select shapes in Photoshop, and I will hear no debate on this self-evident fact. And, even as a computer engineer, you would not believe how often I wind up having to use Photoshop (computers is websites, right?). So, yes, Mario Paint, a Christmas gift I received when I was barely even ten, is a straight line to how I earn my living a solid 25 years later.

It may not have resulted in exactly what I wanted, but, against all odds, Mario Paint is the most important Christmas gift I ever received.

So thanks for putting up with my nonsense, Mom and Dad.

And Merry Christmas, everybody. I hope all your gifts are Mario Paints.

FGC #466 Mario Paint

  • System: Super Nintendo Entertainment System. There was actually a later version for the 64DD, but, unfortunately, that system is just an urban myth that originated in odd issues of Nintendo Power.
  • Number of players: Technically one, but you can fill an entire movie theatre with people that will watch your recorded Mario Paint masterpieces.
  • I hate this thingIsn’t there a game in here somewhere? Oh yeah, there’s Gnat Attack, a game supposedly meant to increase your mouse dexterity. However, all I learned from Gnat Attack is that sentient, disembodied hands scream in a singularly horrifying manner when stung by bees. The more you know!
  • Just play the gig, man: The music of Mario Paint is permanently glued to my very soul. I hum the “loading” theme when I’m trying to remember something. And, sometimes, all I’m trying to remember is the sound a piggy makes.
  • Favorite Tool: I am terrible at free-hand expression, but the teeny tiny pixels of the stamp creation area are exactly my speed. And I can add a set of sunglasses to a Super Mushroom really easily! I am killing it at this creativity thing.
  • Tell us about the Mario Paint Nintendo Power strategy guide: Okay, yes, it does sound like the stupidest thing in the world. But! Back in the pre-internet days (or at least pre-56K modem days), this was about the only way to get Mario Paint… templates? Ideas? This was a big book of fun starting points for using easy-to-follow stamps to create your own Marginally Original Character Samus or Marginally Original Character Link. What I’m saying here is that the Mario Paint strategy guide was the secret genesis of every sprite comic, and, for that reason, we should burn every last copy.
  • Hey, didn’t Homestar Runner get his start from his creators using Mario Paint? Shouldn’t you have been able to produce something equally timeless? No. Shut-up.
  • NOW LOADINGDid you know? Using the “Load” command when first booting up a new, physical copy of Mario Paint will load a piece of art that actually appears on the back of the Mario Paint box. I’m not certain why anyone would ever think to do that, but, hey, it’s good to see that lil’ car.
  • Would I play again: In a way, I never stopped playing Mario Paint. However, in a more accurate way… No. I love this game, and it made more of an impact on my life than I care to admit, but it’s not exactly accessible. I’ll just have to be happy with Undo Dog finally earning a supporting role in Mario Maker.

What’s next? It’s the end of the year, so it’s time for our annual retrospective. Who will win the coveted Goggle Bob Game of the Year award? It’s Kingdom Hearts. Wait, ^&%#, I just gave it away! Dammit! But, uh… there will be other awards? I guess? Uh, please look forward to it.

Seriously!

FGC #459 The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening (Switch)

Note: This article contains spoilers for a game that is either twenty years or one month old. To be clear, the spoilers are not for anything you wouldn’t find in the Gameboy version. You have been warned.

Adventure Time!Forever just isn’t as long as it used to be.

The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening is an amazing game. Within the confines of the meager Gameboy, Link experienced one of his most enjoyable and surprisingly expressive adventures. Link saves the day by venturing through Koholint, a mysterious island home to friendly villagers, the occasional demon round boi, and no less than twelve billion moblins. Items of note include a giant catfish that hides an equally giant worm, a walrus that is always happy to hear a song, and a golden leaf (or maybe five). Oh, and there’s that gigantic egg at the top of Koholint’s highest peak. Assuming Link is capable of collecting all eight of the magical instruments (that’s seven more than usual!) strewn around the island, he’s told he will awaken the Wind Fish, and the dream that is Koholint Island will fade to nothingness. Every one and every thing Link encounters across his adventure is ephemeral, and will disappear should his quest succeed.

And that makes me sad!

Which, ultimately, is the point. LA’s Koholint Island is, when you stop to think about it, one of the absolute nicest places Link has ever visited. Yes, there are monsters, and, yes, the rules of life and death appear to be controlled by a lesser Mario villain’s song, but, aside from a few existential horrors, Koholint is a pretty nice place. You can hang out in a pastoral village, enjoy a walk on the beach, or even have a conversation with a welcoming (and surprisingly verbal) rabbit. SING ITAnd even if Link decides to just stay in the Dream Shrine for the rest of the day, there’s a very real feeling that life on Koholint can go on without him. Granny has her sweeping to do, an alligator is busy working on his art, and lovers are catfishing each other with snail mail. And then there’s Marin. Sweet, doomed Marin…

Marin is the first person Link meets on Koholint, and, incidentally, the first woman in the franchise to rescue Link for a change. It is Marin that drags the sea tossed Link back to her cottage, and nurses him back to health after his near-death experience. And when Link is up and adventuring, it is once again Marin that is not only the most useful villager across the quest (learning music is fun!), she’s also the woman that spends the most time with Link. They play crane games together. They smash pots together. They even bond over a shared love of fried chicken. Right down to Marin’s very vocal desire to be free and see the world, it’s clear that you, the player, are supposed to feel a bond with Marin, and maybe even the slightest bit of empathy for this monochrome NPC. Your quest will wipe her from existence, and, only if you’re really good will you be rewarded with the possibility that Marin escaped her fate by becoming the trashiest of trash birds.

But, whether you keep Link immaculate or not, the Marin you know is gone at the end of Link’s Awakening. And nothing is going to change that. Marin was never real in the first place, and you’ll never see her again.

HERE WE GOAnd the Zelda franchise/Nintendo held true to this rule for decades. Marin only reappeared as a trophy (literally, to be clear) in Super Smash Bros Melee, and did not return in any other form, playable, cameo, or otherwise. Marin clearly influenced Malon of Ocarina of Time, but the young lady obsessed with cows shared very little in common with the songstress of the seas. And, if you squint, you can see how Link’s sister Aryll (of Wind Waker) shares a few superficial similarities with the girl of Link’s dreams. But aside from those allusions, Marin, like all of the friendly faces around Koholint Island, was gone forever, another unfortunate casualty of having never existed at all. Papahl, Kidoh, Lattie, Mamasha, Madam MeowMeow, and even Old Man Ulrira are all gone from the franchise, too; but Marin’s absence is felt most keenly. She was more interesting than the titular Zelda, people! Bring her back!

And now Marin returns in the Switch version of The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. She’s back. She’s adorable. And she’s singing her lil’ heart out.

So why am I sad to see one of my favorite characters all over again?

CHOMPWhen you get right down to it, Link’s Awakening needed a remake. Yes, the obvious issue with LA was that it was initially designed for hardware that could barely support an entire Mario Land, but the controls of Link’s Awakening needed an upgrade much more than the graphics or sound. The A/B system of LA was a genius callback to the original adventure, but there’s a reason The Legend of Zelda never let you switch out your sword. Yes, the option of bomb arrows is always nice, but there are way too many places in OG LA where you have to switch out your feather for some boots and then over to a power bracelet and whoops there’s an enemy maybe you need a sword or some bombs. I hate pausing! A modern remake of LA would allow for mapping the constantly used items to constantly used buttons (what is even the point of giving Link a jump if it’s a pain in the ass to use?), and then maybe an island filled with pegasus blocks would be less than annoying. Link’s Awakening was always a shining rupee in the Zelda crown, but some QOL improvements could make it pretty amazing.

And they did! Link’s Awakening: Switch Because Apparently Subtitles for Subtitles Are For Nerds is a pretty amazing experience. The graphics are adorable and appropriately “just wrong enough” for a dream world, the music (mostly) captures the original haunting isolation of LA’s best tunes, and, yes Virginia, there is an excellent control redux. None of it is absolutely perfect (Roc’s Feather should simply be a permanent RT, and why I can’t use the damn cross-pad is some Phantom Hourglass-level nonsense), but this is indisputably the best version of one of the best Zeldas available. It’s a joy to play, and revisiting sunny Koholint is a welcome change of pace from Link’s usually dour dungeons (or that one Hyrule that is not doing great).

So what’s the problem? If I had to put a point on it, I’d say it’s the ending:

GOOD END

The finale of the original Link’s Awakening was something I saw a billion times. LA was one of my few Gameboy games, and I played the living hell out of it through a Super Gameboy. When I was finally allowed my first actual Gameboy, I reamed every last bit of gameplay out of that gray goober. I must have beaten that game literally hundreds of times, and I must have seen “Seagull Marin” about 80% of those times (hey, I didn’t know dying was a bad thing when I was a kid). And, no matter how many times I beat Link’s Awakening, it always made me sad. Marin was gone forever, and, as the years went on, I was only ever reminded that Marin would never return. She was dreamstuff in the first place, and to the shores of The Dreaming she would always return. Sorry, Bob, time to move on to other adventures.

But Link’s Awakening Switch stirs a different feeling in me. That feeling? “Oh, there she is again.”

For a solid two decades, Marin was nowhere to be found. Then, in 2015 (or so), she rolled on in…

BAD END

Yes, she appeared in Link’s sexual awakening, but she was back! There was much rejoicing!

Now, four years later, she’s back in the remake of Link’s Awakening. And now when I see her ending, I don’t feel the same melancholy as before. I experience the unmistakable sensation of “wonder what she’s going to do next for Nintendo?” We saw Hyrule Warriors DLC, so will she be in the inevitable sequel? How about an amiibo? Maybe Nintendo will take the Link Between Worlds route and make an outright Link’s Awakening 2: Koholint Boogaloo. Regardless of future plans, this is less a downhearted finale, and now more Marin isn’t going to be gone forever ever again, dear player, and here’s a little reminder.

FLAP FLAPAnd, yes, it is entirely possible I’m just being cynical about this whole situation. Link’s Awakening: Switches Get Stiches was an amazing game, and I really shouldn’t be complaining about it because Nintendo has an overzealous marketing department. But, on the other hand, I do have to turn the game off. And when I do, I see Cloud Strife advertising his latest adventure (which is the same adventure, but maybe different[?]), Disney advertising their latest live action remake of a beloved cartoon from my childhood (probably The Rescuers Down Under this week), and freaking Boo Berry returning to store shelves because nostalgia even sells breakfast-themed sugar snacks. It’s a little bit hard to believe that Nintendo is going to let any part of Link’s Awakening “rest” when I’ve got seventeen different Link amiibos staring back at me. Come to think of it, the LA Link on the official Nintendo Amiibo website is listed as part of the “Series: The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening”. So I’ve got a general idea where that phrasing is going…

Yes, I’m actually complaining about more content being provided from a franchise/game that I deeply enjoy. Yes, this sounds like the most first of first world problems. But stories should be allowed to end. Endings should be allowed to be sad without tacking on an ellipse and a question mark. Or, at the very least, I should be allowed to enjoy a piece of media without being reminded it’s just one cog in an unstoppable machine meant to grind me down until I am simply blood and an open wallet. The nostalgia advertised for so many of these projects is less dopamine and more poison when the threat of further, costly adventures is on the horizon.

I’m just an old man complaining, but I’m old enough to remember when a Zelda game ended, it meant it ended. Forever.

FGC #459 The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening (Switch)

  • System: Nintendo Switch. I reserve the right to review the original at some point in the next 100 FGC articles.
  • Number of players: Does dungeon sharing count? Let’s just say one.
  • SpicyGravediggin’: Oh yeah, the big, new content for Link’s Awakening is Dampé providing a “build a dungeon” area. It’s… kind of weird to have a “real” Hyrule inhabitant on Koholint. Regarding the actual dungeon building, I want to say this might have been better received if it was touted as a “Link’s Awakening Randomizer”, and not a real unique dungeon creation system. The concept here is amazing… but in practice, it just winds up being random bits from LA dungeons sewn together. That can be its own kind of fun… but it ain’t no Zelda Maker.
  • Say Something Mean: Whoever is responsible for the load times involved when entering houses that are approximately six pixels wide should be forced to fight a flock of angry chickens.
  • Favorite Nightmare: Now I finally know that Hot Head, the boss of the final complete dungeon, is supposed to be a lava monster that is inexplicably only weak to the fire rod. There was a slight chance that high definition graphics would give some explanation as to why fire is vulnerable to fire, but, nope, he’s just a reject Fry Guy.
  • Favorite Mini Boss: Smasher demands that Link play dodge ball. He’s my kinda whale-fish-dude.
  • So, did you beat it? I certainly did, but I didn’t exactly get every heart piece and secret seashell. I might really enjoy this world, but I don’t feel like figuring out every damn fishing game that crosses my path.
  • Did you know? According to the official Legend of Zelda timeline, the same Link stars in The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, The Legend of Zelda: The Oracle of Ages, The Legend of Zelda: The Oracle of Seasons, and then The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. First of all, that Link has got to be exhausted by the end of his four separate journeys. But, more importantly, there isn’t an adventure for that particular Link after Link’s Awakening. This raises some… very solemn questions.
  • Would I play again: Yes. I might feel vaguely bad about it, but I’m not made of stone.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Final Fantasy Legend 3 for the Gameboy! Now we’re hitting some monochrome adventuring! Please look forward to it!

I can hear this GIF
I can hear this GIF

FGC #458 Gremlins 2: The New Batch

Spooky!My parents were good, decent people that tried their best to raise a superior Goggle Bob. In some cases, I can say they failed, as it is clear my unchecked narcissism will one day destroy the world. Because I’m perfect, I must blame my parents for that inevitability. However, in many cases, they were successful. For instance, my parents were deathly afraid of me watching any kind of super violent or super sexual material, so they steered me towards books. This meant that I was not allowed to watch the R-rated movie Stephen King’s Thinner, but I was allowed to read the source novel. This led to a lovely situation wherein, a few years later, I was a goddamned wizard at typing out vivid descriptions of oral sex, which was a boon when you’re a teenager in the early days of cybering. Unfortunately, this policy also had some drawbacks, as I was not allowed to see a number of potentially frightening movies from the time I was a young’un. As a result, I never saw Gremlins 2: The New Batch, and was forced to content myself with the NES adaption as a consolation prize.

And, in retrospect, Gremlins 2: The New Batch for the NES is clearly the most frightening form of Gremlins media, so go ahead and chalk up another loss for my parents. They tried.

Gremlins 2 starts pretty much like every other NES game. Gizmo is an adorable little fuzzball, and it’s his job to… walk around? The opening cinema reveals that Gizmo was released from a cage, and… I guess he’s just gotta walk over there or somethin’? Look, the first level is simply Gizmo tossing (genetically modified) tomatoes at rats and spiders in a Zelda-esque isometric perspective. Gizmo is pretty well equipped for this leg of the journey, and there isn’t even a boss to clear before moving on to level 2.

And that’s when things get weird…

Drip Drop

First of all, go ahead and try to explain what the hell is happening there to someone who has never seen Gremlins. Bonus points if you can somehow elucidate it all to a child that is a little more used to magic mushrooms and frowning robot masters and not a wee fluff ball painfully launching ping pong balls out of his back.

Secondly, this is when the titular gremlins show up. To be clear, they’re not simply going to appear in cutscenes from this point on, they’re also replacing the rats and spiders as the number one opponent in every level. And they come in different forms! There’s a jumping gremlin, a skateboarding gremlin, a flying gremlin, a bat gremlin, a filthy wizard gremlin, and even a smoking gremlin that effectively breathes fire. These “individual” gremlins appear in great numbers, and every level is overcrowded with the monsters.

SPOOKYAnd, on their own, these gremlins might not be scary. The graphics are particularly nice for a NES game, so the gremlins are rendered well… but still matching their generally goofy big screen versions. Aside from the big, bad, boss gremlins, the average gremlin looks like it would be right at home in the Mushroom Kingdom. And Gizmo earns progressively better weapons, so, while he doesn’t exactly have a spread beam in his inventory, he’s also not the least equipped hero on the NES (that would be a certain elf boy). All in all, these gremlins should just be another batch of NES mooks destined for destruction, and not something that should still haunt this dear author.

No, what’s scary about the gremlins is that they hate you.

It may be hard to remember now, but most NES monsters… didn’t care. The goomba, the most iconic creature in Mario’s bestiary and the creature most seen on the NES, arguably doesn’t even know Mario is there. Dude is just walking along, minding his own business, and maybe if some plumber decides to stomp him into oblivion, well, that’s on that mustache man’s conscience. Similarly, even big bads like Bowser or the Hammer Bros. will continue facing forward well after Mario runs right past them. So it’s pretty clear that they may be malevolent, but they’re not trying too hard. An overwhelming number of “enemies” on the NES react the same way. Mets just sit there and wait, zombies and bats move forward with all the menace of a caterpillar, and even the most deadly monsters in Battletoads just kind of saunter over to the titular toads. And the general format of that day mitigates any overt hostilities. Everything is trying to kill you in a shoot ‘em up like Gradius, but the tiny sprites and excess screen real estate gives the impression that you’ve got time to deal with these threats. Hot stuffAnd, speaking of which, those Big Cores are big threats, but their mammoth size makes then lumbering giants compared to your lithe Vic Viper. Everything is slow and nonthreatening on the NES, because almost all NES games put their focus on other areas. You can either have a gigantic, expressive mechanical dragon, or a teeny tiny dragon that takes forever to clear the screen. Neither is going to scare anyone.

Gremlins 2 does not have that issue. Gremlins 2 decided to fill up its screen with large, expressive sprites for heroes and villains, and that drastically cut down on the amount of space Gizmo has to maneuver. The programmers also decided that nearly every monster would home in on Gizmo, so fire-breathers blow flames straight into his path, and leaping gremlins inexorably vault onto our tiny hero. And combine this with an office building that apparently includes live wires, spike pits, and a surprising amount of lava, and you can only come to one conclusion: everything is trying to kill Gizmo! And Gizmo is adorable! How could we live in such a cruel world!?

And that’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch scares me to this day. It’s not an exemplary or even particularly memorable NES title, it is simply a game that taught a Wee Goggle Bob that even if you’re cute, even if you’re tenacious, even if you’re the best little fuzzball in the world and decked out with the same weaponry as Rambo, you still live in an uncaring, unforgiving world that wants to tear you to shreds. The training wheels of the rats and spiders are going to be coming off quickly, and you’ll be facing electric monster ghosts for the rest of your short, brutish life.

And your parents are going to just let it happen.

Happy Halloween, everybody!

FGC #458 Gremlins 2: The New Batch

  • Sparky!System: Nintendo Entertainment System. There were also versions for Gameboy, DOS, Commodore 64, and some manner of Atari… but they’re not nearly as traumatic.
  • Number of players: Gizmo is alone in the world.
  • Further indignities: You start with zero lives. You have to purchase even a single 1-up if you want to continue past your initial three hearts. You will not survive.
  • Ahead of its time: I want to say this is the first game I ever played that contained bottomless pits, but simply dropped a little health before respawning the hero before an ill-fated jump. It took most franchises until the N64 to pick up on that QOL improvement.
  • Favorite Boss: The finale features the gigantic spider gremlin (Mohawk?). It is a terrible boss, as you can basically just stand there and shoot and eventually it will catch fire. But, on the other hand, it’s a giant spider monster, and that counts for something in my book.
  • So, did you beat it? Yes, though with liberal save states. I think I even made it to the end when I was a kid… though that may have been because Nintendo Power provided many a password. I definitely still have nightmares about the ending with all the Gremlins melting…
  • Did you know? Sadly, Hulk Hogan does not appear in this game.
  • Would I play again: I am terrified into not even bothering.

What’s next? Random ROB is taking the week off, because I just had an amazing dream. There were moblins! And chain chomps! And some manner of seagull girl? Whatever. I’m going to tell you all about it. Please look forward to it!

Stay cool, bro

FGC #452 Time Killers

THE KILLERSThe fact that I can hold this game in my hands is a testament to the amazing degree to which Mortal Kombat was popular… and how absolutely no one understood that popularity.

According to records from the distant past of 1992, Time Killers was unleashed upon arcades a few months after the venerable Mortal Kombat. I’m going to assume that it takes longer than a week to roll out a few hundred arcade cabinets, and conclude that Time Killers just happened to be a massively violent game that incidentally was released in proximity to, but not because of, Mortal Kombat. In all likelihood, Time Killers was, like Mortal Kombat itself, just another game that was trying to cash in on the success of Street Fighter 2. On the other hand, it is entirely likely that Time Killers was intended as a Mortal Kombat clone (klone?), as it is pretty obvious the visuals of Time Killers could be reproduced by a five year old with half a box of crayons. Colored pencils are too classy for Time Killers.

Time Killers is an ugly, ugly game. The graphics are just terrible, the animation is sub-2000 Newgrounds, and the character variety is nonexistent. This is another time-travel based fighter, and its stock “caveman” “knight” and “Viking” all probably required a solid sixty seconds of design. The final boss is Death with a capital D, and this interpretation of the Grim Reaper looks more like something you’d find scribbled on a local heavy metal band’s demo tape. It’s not, like, the actual album art, man, it’s just, like, something the bassist’s little brother did, and we thought it looked cool. And, in a way, that’s the ultimate goal of Time Killers: it’s a bunch of stuff that is supposed to look cool… but doesn’t quite get there. A warrior woman from the future wielding a lightsaber laser sword should be a show-stopper, but here we have less future gladiator, more American Gladiator. NES American Gladiator…

OUCHBut, arguably, none of that should matter. There is one thing people notice about Time Killers, and that’s the almost unheard of level of blood and gore being tossed around any given battle. Every fighter is equipped with at least one martial weapon (or martial appendage, in the case of that one bug lady), and when a dude with a mohawk is swinging around a chainsaw, the inevitable happens pretty quickly. Legs can be damaged, arms can be severed, and, assuming you can pull off a special move that involves smashing all the buttons at once, a dizzied character can be utterly decapitated mid-match. Suffice to say, even if the freshly headless participant had a mostly full life bar, the severer still gets a win point over the severee. But even if no one loses their head during a battle, there are almost always still severed, flopping limbs littering the battlefield. Heck, even before the fight begins, there’s often a bloodied corpse or guillotined head hanging in the background. Time Killers is all about the blood, and is arguably the game concerned parents believed Mortal Kombat to be. This is the title that is going to turn Little Timmy into Timothy “The Meat Mangler” Littles.

But, good news for a million moms everywhere, gamers weren’t having it.

Time Killers is certainly a game you could find in an arcade or two, but it was never nearly as popular as Street Fighter 2 or Mortal Kombat. This was likely a result of the combination of its horrible ugliness and the fact that the gameplay absolutely sucks. It’s five buttons, but there’s an entire button that barely does anything! Special attacks are incredibly boring (which is really disappointing when you’re controlling a futuristic cyborg). And the previously mentioned “fatalities” that can occur at any time during a match can lead to some incredibly one-sided fights. Heavier characters are a lot more likely to dizzy their opponents, and when a dizzy condition can lead to an instant-win… well, why play as anyone other than the strong men?

Chop chop, guysSo, suffice to say, people weren’t exactly clamoring for a home release of Time Killers. In 1992, we had plenty of fighting game options, and it seemed like there was a new version or sequel every other month. Fighter’s History already showed us the apex of the genre (by allowing us to fight Karnov), so it seemed like the public at large was okay with Time Killers sticking to a few seedy arcades. Videogame preservation is nice, but I’m sure resources could be allocated to other projects. Time Killers will just have to wait for emulation and…

Oh. Time Killers was ported to the Sega Genesis. In 1996.

To put this in perspective, Time Killers’ home port was released the same year as other Sega Genesis games Sonic 3D Blast, Vectorman 2, and NBA Hangtime. Donkey Kong Country 3, Kirby Super Star, and Super Mario RPG were over on the Super Nintendo. The Nintendo 64 was released in the Fall of 1996. And here was Time Killers, for your Sega Genesis, and it looked like this:

OH GOD

Yes, Time Killers’ port took a bit of a hit from the arcade graphics. It featured no new characters, no extra gameplay modes, and tied it all up with the limited buttons of a Sega Genesis controller. Time Killers was already a turd floating in the toilet bowl of gaming, so why would anyone ever decide that the Sega Genesis needed this floater to bubble up to the surface?

Well, Mortal Kombat 2 sold at least 1.78 million copies for the Genesis in the United States, and MK3 came in at 1.02 million. That’s more copies sold than the most popular NFL games of the time. That also makes MK the highest selling franchise on the system that wasn’t rated for all general audiences. Hell, Mortal Kombat for Genesis practically invented the ratings system for videogames! Of course you want a piece of that action with your bloody brawler!

Had to do itDid Time Killers make the same splash on Genesis as Mortal Kombat? Of course not! But it was rescued from the dustbin of history because someone thought it might. And why did they imagine such lofty goals? Because there’s a significant portion of the population that thinks Mortal Kombat was successful only because of its gruesomeness. And Time Killers had gore to spare, so, logically, those silly gamers would go for it. Mortal Kombat has blood = success, Time Killers has more blood = more success. It’s basic math!

And, in the end, all this means is that Mortal Kombat was a massive, if completely misunderstood, success. Time Killers is not any good, but it received a home port in an effort to chase the prosperous Mortal Kombat. Did it help Time Killers one iota? Not at all. But it did preserve Time Killers for future generations of people trying to kill some time.

Mortal Kombat achieved a flawless victory. Time Killers just lost its head.

FGC #452 Time Killers

  • System: Sega Genesis and Arcade. Arcade gameplay is used for the majority of this article, as actually playing the Genesis version hurts my eyes.
  • Number of players: Same as Mortal Kombat.
  • Bugs love their lawnsFavorite Character: Time Killers was actually at my local arcade back in the day, and Wee Goggle Bob was convinced Mantazz was the best character, because she had a “head” button that actually did something. As an adult, I know that is fairly useless, but I still like Mantazz, as I appreciate how she was clearly auditioning for her iconic role in Secret of Mana.
  • What’s in a name? Wulf is a chivalrous knight that wields the holy sword Excalibur (we know this because he shouts that about every other second). Why didn’t Time Killers go with the significantly more obvious (and public domain) “Arthur”? They didn’t have any problem with naming their Viking “Leif”.
  • Science!: Orion’s stage is on a space ship floating somewhere in the universe. When an opponent loses on that stage, they start to float away, because gravity only impacts things that are alive. This is why we bury our dead, lest they drift off into the atmosphere.
  • An end: The character-specific endings are straightforward “fighter gets whatever they want” affairs, which is pretty typical for fledgling fighting games not setting up sequels. However, Thugg the Caveman gets a particularly interesting ending, as it involves ol’ Thugg excitedly and accidentally discovering fire. Does this mean that Thugg is the canon victor of the tournament?
  • Did you know? There was a UK comic book called “Time Killers”. It was based on a series from the same folks behind Judge Dredd, and it theoretically had nothing to do with the game (or any kind of consistent plot at all). However, issue #3’s cover features a woman that looks a lot like the game’s Matrix character. On the other hand, maybe there are only so many ways to depict a “future” woman…
  • Would I play again: No. This game is in no way fun, and I don’t want to deal with it ever again. If I’m ever tempted, I’ll just do a google image search for car accident photos and be done with it.

What’s next? That was awful, and I need something that is going to get this Mortal Kombat week back on track. I need something that is going to help me reclaim my Killer Instinct… Please look forward to it!

Look away