Tag Archives: commodore 64

FGC #509 Wheel of Fortune

WHEEL. OF. FORTUNE.Forget videogame sex and violence, it’s Wheel of Fortune ports that are destroying the lives of our children.

I speak on this topic as one that was poisoned by Wheel of Fortune at a young age. When I was just old enough to be literate, my mother and grandfather allowed me to join them in playing a wondrous new game for the Commodore 64: Wheel of Fortune. Of course, I was already familiar with Wheel of Fortune, as it’s been dominating the same timeslot since before I was born. There has literally never been a moment in my lifetime that Wheel of Fortune was not available to watch, and I’m pretty sure my grandparents watched it religiously literally until the day they died (give or take a coma that we’re not going to count toward final totals). So, yes, I was familiar with Wheel of Fortune before I ever hit my first F5 key to solve a puzzle. Who doesn’t want to spin that wheel and win fabulous prizes?

And, if I’m being generous, I will state that my parents meant well. After all, I was a young’un that loved videogames, game shows, and was just learning how to read. A videogame that combined all three wouldn’t only be fun, it would be educational. Goggle Bob learn words good from game! And, with my mother and grandfather taking the places of the other contestants (my dad would have participated if he wasn’t such a luddite that keyboards reflexively recoil in his presence), I was guaranteed that kind of “gentle” gameplay that comes from playing a board game with an emotionally handicapped opponent (err… to be clear, that’s saying the handicap the other players have is thanks to their familial emotions, and not that any of my family members are emotionally handicapped [though my grandfather was incapable of experiencing joy from SPINapproximately 1959-2004]). I might not have won every round, but I can certainly say my rivals were giving me more than enough time to solve a puzzle. And if everything didn’t go my way, hey, they could always blame that digital version of not-Pat Sajak to avert a tantrum. It seems like playing digital Wheel of Fortune with my family as a child was a net good for Wee Goggle Bob.

Except there was one tiny problem: I eventually got good at Wheel of Fortune. And, corollary issue: I’m not a millionaire that has experienced a fabulous, all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.

Wheel of Fortune has received surprisingly faithful ports over the years. Whereas other videogame adaptations created for home consoles have had to make some changes to the source material from time to time, Wheel of Fortune has been consistent. Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor rarely fought dinosaurs during Home Improvement, but it happened in the first level of his SNES game. Nobody ever thinks to grab the dice for traditional family Pictionary, but there it is on the NES. Wheel of Fortune, however, is exactly what grandpa and grandma would expect of a videogame. There’s the wheel, the choosing of letters, and even the later editions include the occasional changes to the television show’s formula. Maybe it’s because the rules are easy to digitally adapt, maybe it’s because Wheel of Fortune Corp. demands absolute fidelity, but, whatever the case, Wheel of Fortune: The Home Game has been unwavering as long as there have been home games.

Which means that if you are good at Wheel of Fortune the videogame, you absolutely should have won thousands of dollars by now. That’s just basic science.

FABULOUSI identified this problem back in my childhood. I eventually gained the swerve and vocabulary to go up against the computer opponents, and, more often than not, I conquered my foes with aplomb. And that felt different than defeating my dear family. In this case, I knew the computer wasn’t giving me a free ride, because AIs were incapable of deferring to the emotional needs of a small child (I would expect a bot to cheat on a toaster’s behalf, but not for a human flesh bag). So, obviously, I was legitimately winning Wheel of Fortune. Hell, I was conquering a computer. I wasn’t a random contestant beating some dork from Idaho, I was John Henry. I was Garry Kasparov. I was Zack de la Rocha… I think. Point is that I had accomplished something every time I won Wheel of Fortune, and I imagined a peripheral that looked not unlike a familiar 5 1⁄4-inch floppy disc reader that would spit out dollars upon dollars after every victory. I was winning! I should have fabulous prizes, just like those winners on TV! Where is my brand new car!?

And it sounds ridiculous, but I’m pretty sure a big problem with my generation is we’re still waiting for those fabulous prizes.

No one is claiming that people play videogames to become fabulously wealthy. Yes, there are ways you can become rich and/or famous through playing videogames, but, unless I missed some amazing advertising campaigns, the latest Animal Crossing isn’t being touted as a gateway the striking it rich on Wall Street. And such a thing sounds absurd, but consider how many activities, coaches, and “academies” are offered to children (and adults!) that claim they will transform Little Timmy into the next Bo Jackson or Madonna (are these references still relevant? I’ve been on stay-at-home orders a while). No, videogames aren’t supposed to bring you riches beyond measure, but they are supposed to bring the player satisfaction. Give or take some desert buses, there are not games designed to be impossible to be completed, and, whether you’re dealing with Dark Souls or Darkwing Duck, you will eventually gain fulfillment from seeing the finale. It is how every game ends, Who are these nerds?but it is not necessarily inevitable. You have to try to reach that finish line, and can’t simply assume you’re going to win like when you’re going up against a well-meaning pop-pop. And nowadays, it’s not a matter of “beating a game”, there are achievements, trophies, and other accolades, online and off, that showcase just how thoroughly you’ve played a game. Want 100% completion? That all-important platinum trophy? Well, get to playing, player. You’re going to have to achieve that achievement.

Admit it: if you go through all that effort for all those achievements, don’t you expect to get something?

There’s no question that people have been cultivating their Gamerscores and Trophy collections for years. There have been occasions when games were released, and they were judged (and purchased!) solely on the basis of how quickly they would allow the player to accrue achievement points. People greedily reap these achievement scores, even knowing that some of those points were distributed for “achievements” like “successfully pressed X” or “generally nudged a controller for ten minutes”. Gamers don’t do that simply for bragging rights or alike, they do that because they think somewhere deep down in their dark gamer hearts that there will be a tangible reward for their accomplishments. They secretly believe that one day a super model is going to saunter on up to the crowd, demand to know who has the most gilded LOSERtrophies of them all, and then throw their clothes off in reaction to that one achievement awarded for riding a chocobo for eleven craptillion steps. Okay, yes, that sounds stupid to say out loud, but how many people actually think their videogame skills are going to have a real, profitable impact on the world? How many people think they’ve put 10,000 hours into a hobby, so, logically, all that hard work and effort is going to pay off? How many people don’t accomplish anything of value for the rest of humanity because they’re fixated on how many imaginary gamer points they can earn?

How many people think they should be millionaires that can win millions on Wheel of Fortune because they’ve already won imaginary millions on Wheel of Fortune?

You want the solution to the puzzle of my generation? Digital Wheel of Fortune ruined us all.

FGC #509 Wheel of Fortune

  • System: Every. Just every system that has ever happened. There was a PSP version, and that’s my qualifier for that statement. There was even supposed to be a version for the 3DO, but it didn’t come to fruition before the system imploded. So I guess the proper statement is that Wheel of Fortune is available for all systems that weren’t instant failures.
  • Number of players: Three is the generally accepted number, but two is allowed on systems that do not contain multitaps.
  • So, what did you play? For the purpose of this article, I played the OG C64/DOS version, the Super Nintendo edition that happened to be handy, and the Nintendo Switch version. The Switch version may have been played with my dear fiancée during a bout of heavy, quarantine-based drinking.
  • And how did that work out? Poorly! I completely failed to guess the proper solution to the following puzzle:
    I DON'T UNDERSTAND

    I am never going to gain fabulous prizes.
  • So, which version is best: Man, who has the time to play thirty years’ worth of Wheel of Fortune games? Let’s just say it is whatever version is most recent, because they apparently soldered a leveling system onto its custom character creator, so now you need to win like sixty rounds before you’re allowed to wear a t-shirt. That’s modern gaming!
  • Fabulous Prizes: For some reason, the vacation you can win in Switch Wheel of Fortune is always France. There’s this lovely pan of Paris, and it all looks very nice, but I would very much like to know what that country did to get featured in a videogame every ten minutes.
  • Did you know? Wheel of Fortune apparently trademarked “America’s Game”. Of course, it seems they didn’t trademark it very well, because googling that phrase will get you nothing but results regarding the football game event that I’m legally not allowed to name. Rhymes with “blooper hole”.
  • Would I play again: Wheel of Fortune is fun! And I’ll probably wind up playing it again on the Nintendo Super Switch U or whatever comes next. Maybe buying games I already own for five bucks over and over is the real prize.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… The Simpsons Arcade Game! Cowabunga, it’s time to rescue Maggie! Please look forward to it!

Green Hill Zone

FGC #484 Mr. Do! Arcade Classic

In this era of international uncertainty, it is time to establish the Official Clown Threat Level Meter. Please refer to the following guide before asking any questions.

Threat Level 0: Mr. Do

A simpler doerMr. Do is not a threat to anyone. He’s a clown, yes, but all he ever does is dig around in the ground looking for cherries. And he can’t even do that well! Mr. Do is menaced by creeps, monsters that are all mouth and anxious to devour poor, ineffective Mr. Do. And what piddling abilities does Mr. Do have to fend off the infinite forces of the creeps? He’s got a ball. One. Just one. And if it bounces away without hitting a single creep, it will just sit there until it’s reclaimed, leaving the generally only mostly defenseless Mr. Do wholly defenseless. But wait! Mr. Do can drop apples on his opponents by carefully digging holes and… Wait, wasn’t that Dig Dug’s move? And Dig Dug had the wholly more effective pump weapon? Yeah, it’s confirmed, when you’re less effective than Dig Dug, you’re not a threat to anybody.

Threat Level 1: Fyer and Falbi

I do not care for these clownsFyer and Falbi are not physical threats, they are simply two clowns that run a business around Lake Hylia. One is a master of cannons in the grand tradition of Groose, and the other is a master of cuccoos in the grand tradition of… that one guy that died in the woods and became a skeleton? He probably had a name. So you would be forgiven for assuming these clowns are helpful. Dangerous mistake! Like many clowns, they are simply lulling you into a false sense of security. These clowns may not steal your heart(s), but they do want your rupees. And they’ll take every last one for their own clownish needs. Watch these “friendly” clowns, they’re anxious to caper off with your wallet.

Threat Level 2: Mad Clown

Watch outThere was a joke once: Man goes to a doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, “Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. Says, “But doctor…I am Pagliacci.” So then the doctor says, “Well, have you tried punching people for money?” And that’s how Pagliacci became Mad Clown the Boxing Clown. He’s visiting violence upon others to feel better about himself, and that’s concerning.

Threat Level 3: Lola Pop

Slam dunk!Lola Pop is still theoretically not a threat to the average person. Like Mad Clown, she is a fighter, but is only a fighter for the purpose of winning some nebulous prize. However, the escalation of danger here is plain for all to see. First of all, this is an artificially augmented clown, and anything that makes a clown more dangerous than a baseline human is cartwheeling down a slippery slope. And the other major concern? Lola Pop wants to open her own circus. That means more clowns. Nobody wants that! So Lola Pop may technically not be a direct threat to your average citizen, but she is a gateway to more super-powered clowns, and thus should be considered a danger to society.

Threat Level 4: Clown Man

See you in my dreamsWhat is with clowns and long, stretchy arms? Now we have a robot that is designed not unlike Lola Pop, but with one important difference: this is the first wholly homicidal clown on this threat meter. Yes! It’s true! There are clowns that are not trying to kill you! But there are many, many more clowns that want you dead. But all is not lost! While Clown Man can only be defeated by a super fighting robot, he takes more pride in entertaining his master and doing tricks deep in his own private robot park. So Clown Man is a lethal threat, but it is very unlikely that you would encounter a Robot Master in your normal, day-to-day activities. Approach abandoned amusement parks with extreme caution.

Threat Level 5: Bonker

Bonkers is a different characterBonker was once a good clown. Well, actually, it’s hard to label any clown as “good”, particularly thanks to Bonker, who went from homeless-clown to clay-clown to full-on evil-clown over the course of a few Clayfighters. By Clayfighter 63⅓, Bonker was performing messy claytalities on all of his opponents, and chopping through the competition on his way to twist a sentient piece of taffy into smithereens. And was he successful? Nope! Bonker is a murderous clown, but the finale of Clayfighter 63⅓ sees Bonker returning to a tropical vacation. So, basically, don’t interrupt his vacation, and nobody gets hurt. And don’t mess with his balloon doggie, Fifi, either.

Threat Level 6: Beppi the Clown

Don't deal with the clownWhen Cuphead is tricked into collecting the debts of the Devil, he is forced to collect the soul of Beppi the Clown. Obviously, this is a situation wherein Beppi felt threatened, so, under normal, non-clown-based circumstances, Beppi would be forgiven for defending his own life. However, Beppi is no mere victim, and immediately unleashes an entire carnival full of death. He’s got a murder-car, murder-horse, murder-balloons, murder-merry-go-round, and generally surly penguins. This is another situation wherein the clown in question would not be a threat unless prompted, but Beppi gets a special promotion for having more armaments than a small country (assuming said country does not contain clowns). Beppi proves that every clown can have a cache of carnage just beneath the surface, waiting for just the right (or wrong!) moment.

Threat Level 7: Kinky Pinky

The 80s were like thisKinky Pinky is an active threat. Not content to simply sit and wait for an opponent to appear, Kinky Pinky is a clown that works for the notable criminal organization, K.R.A.K, with other malcontents such as Mr. Big, Joe Rockhead, and Sergeant Skyhigh. And, while other members of K.R.A.K primarily focus on drug production and distribution, Kinky Pinky is purely a murder clown. He kidnaps women in broad daylight, and then produces literal murder porn to distribute to other murder clowns. And he’s only threat level seven! The forces of NARC gunned down anyone matching Kinky Pinky’s description on sight, so it’s unlikely this joker survived the Eighties, but it’s possible he’s still out there, lurking about on some street corner. Beware any and all urbanites wearing white makeup! It’s for your own good!

Threat Level 8: Needles Kane

Car ClownNeedles Kane, the star of the Twisted Metal franchise, is one clown you do not want to encounter for any reason. Clowns are generally to be feared for their innate murderous tendencies, but they are also loners. Give or take a circus or two, most clowns work alone, ultimately because they don’t like to be crammed into little cars. And while Kinky Pinky may have been a member of a criminal organization, at least he was nowhere near a leadership role. Needles Kane, meanwhile, is a murder clown with an army. Not content to simply destroy everyone and everything from Sweet Tooth, his fully-equipped ice cream truck, Needles also leads The Clowns, a cult that worships him as a king. And, to prove their devotion, The Clowns have constructed Sweet Tooth’s Carnival of Carnage, a humongous, metal circus tent on wheels. This is maximum silly slaughter here, as not only can the clown murder whole cities worth of people, but he’s also infecting others with the need for some laughs. And they built that tank thing, which is probably not going to do anything good for local real estate values, either.

Threat Level 9: Kefka Palazzo

What a poserNeedles may be worshipped like a god by his unholy legions, but Kefka actually becomes a god. Absorbing the power of the sacred trilogy of Final Fantasy 6’s world, Kefka is a clown that conquers the world and twists and contorts the whole of the planet into his own twisted image. Does he have followers? Of course. Does he have an army before he even gets started? Yep, they’re there and literally licking his boots. And is he responsible for death? You know it! He’s murderous on a nearly cosmic level, and is responsible for genociding complete towns. And he does it all with a smile on his face and a laugh in his heart. This is it, folks, the ultimate clown threat level, there’s no topping… Wait? There’s a Level 10?

Threat Level 10: Clown Car of Anonymous Murder Clowns


Oh snap. We don’t know anything about them, but they’re here for the exclusive purpose of murder, and they’re just going to laugh about it. There. That’s the top. Please avoid these murder clowns at all costs. In fact, don’t ever go outside again. We don’t know where they came from, or when they might appear, and… Yes, best not to risk it. We’re at Clown Threat Level Ten, it’s time to stay inside and weather the storm.

Beware the clowns.

FGC #484 Mr. Do! Arcade Classic

  • Mr Do!System: Super Nintendo for this particular version, but Mr. Do! has appeared on various systems going back to the arcade in 1982. If you’re hankering for some Do action, you can hit the Gameboy Color, Gameboy, Commodore 64, ColecoVision, or even Atari 2600. It’s one of those ubiquitous old games.
  • Number of players: Two! And this version even has a two player simultaneous mode where you can get into full-blown clown-on-clown violence!
  • Maybe actually talk about the game for a second: There really isn’t much to Mr. Do! It was released the same year as Dig Dug, and it’s barely different from that title, yet somehow worse. I suppose Mr. Do! places less of an emphasis on violence as ol’ Taizo Hori, but that just makes the game come off more as a clone of Pac-Man when it comes to consumption-based goals. Basically, there’s a reason Mr. Do! barely escaped the 90s, left alone the decade of his birth.
  • Were there other murder clowns you could have featured in this article? Oh, so many. Like, you wouldn’t believe how many threatening clowns there are across the breadth of gaming. I only featured one from an arcade-style fighting game! Those creatures were all over the arcades back in the day.
  • Did you know? Mr. Do! appears as a snowman, not a clown, in his initial Japanese release. That would have really messed up this article!
  • Would I play again: No thank you. Can I just play Dig Dug instead? I think I’m gonna play Dig Dug.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… The Simpsons: Bart vs. the World for NES! Don’t have a cow, Bart, it’s only the world you have to fight. Please look forward to it!

SCARY CLOWN
Trigger Warning: Horror

FGC #398 Jr. Pac-Man

This is how reproduction worksIf you’re at all interested in videogames, you’ve probably heard of the horrors of game preservation. Videogames are, almost by design, ephemeral. They’re here on the current software, and, if a game is a hit, you can be sure you’ll see it return in the next generation (maybe with a HD remaster!). If a game is a “cult classic”, you might spy a few nerds getting really excited when it shows up on what passes for the next generation’s virtual console. But, if it fails to make an impact, and it fails to have a big name attached to it, then it is likely gone forever. There are literally thousands of games that have languished on their original hardware, never to be seen by an audience ever again.

And this is, without question, a bad thing. More than any other medium, videogames are iterative and absolutely rely on what has come before. Sure, we all like to look at “defining” games like Mario and Zelda to explain where gaming has originated (and where it’s going), but the failures are just as important as the successes. Krion Conquest shows us exactly how to make Mega Man wrong. Early Metroidvania titles (Goonies 2 comes to mind) exemplify what features should be left on the cutting room floor (like God damn birds that steal your items). And the early xeroxes of Doom and Final Fantasy 7 demonstrate exactly what can go wrong in a FPS or JRPG. A bad movie is generally just a bad movie, but there is so much involved in a bad videogame, that there is much to learn past “don’t do that”.

And then there are chunks of our history that are lost forever not because they were somehow unworthy, but because of the great equalizer of all mediums: the legal department.

Munching alongJr. Pac-Man is a Pac-Man arcade game from 1983. The title made it to the Atari 2600 in ’86 (four years after the initial, disastrous Atari Pac-Man), and DOS/Commodore 64 two years later. In other words, it made the rounds in its day. However, you won’t see Jr. Pac-Man past 1990. It did not appear on any of the “modern” consoles, like the Nintendo Entertainment System. It was not an unlockable in the arcade of Pac-Man 2. And, even today, when you score a Pac-Man collection on your platform of choice, it does not contain Jr. Pac-Man. The character of “Pac-Man’s son” might pop up from time to time, but his titular videogame is nowhere to be found. What happened?

Well, the answer to that is simple: Jr. Pac-Man never should have been born. Namco is the creator of the once and future Pac-Man, and merely licensed the property to Bally-Midway for release in the states. Then Pac-Man fever infected the nation… and Midway needed to sell more arcade machines. Everybody already had Pac-Man, and, thus, only arcade owners were raking in the quarters, not the arcade cabinet manufacturers. So, in a desperate bid to revitalize the Pac-Market, Midway released a slew of new Pac-Content. Ms. Pac-Man is the most famous example, but we also saw Baby Pac-Man, Professor Pac-Man, and the abhorrent Pac-Man Plus, a game that I’m almost certain is naturally haunted (not talking about the ghosts, they’re normal). And, from this bumper crop of Pac-Merchandise, we also saw Jr. Pac-Man.

So flashyAnd Jr. Pac-Man might be one of the best of the Midway Alterna-Pacs. It’s never going to dethrone Ms. Pac-Man, but it has some pretty interesting mechanics. For one thing, for better or worse, it’s the first Pac-Man title designed with a scrolling maze. This means bigger stages, naturally, but also a little more tension with monsters that could be doing anything when they’re off screen. And the bonus items now have much more of an impact on gameplay: an item (no longer just fruit, now we’ve got bicycles, trains, and… a cat?) will move around the maze of its own volition, and “fatten” the traditional pellets. A fat pellet will grant Junior more points, but they also slow this Pac down the tiniest bit… which can make a significant impact when there’s a ghost on your tail. But that’s not all! In a move that can only be described as a betrayal of everything a bonus item stands for, if an item comes in contact with a Power Pellet, both the item and the pellet will explode! And you’re down a Power Pellet! Oh, the humanity!

And, most bizarrely of all, Jr. Pac-Man decides to add to the Pac-Mythos. The round clear cinema scenes of Ms. Pac-Man showcased the pairing of two Pacs, and the attract mode of Jr. Pac-Man features the stork dropping off the new Pac-Bundle. Jr. Pac-Man scenes show another love story, but one between Junior and… a ghost! Yum-Yum is Blinky’s daughter, and it’s clear that he does not approve of these star-crossed lovers. Will Pac-Man Jr. run off with a tiny ghost with a bow in her hair (“hair”)? Play the game to find out!

Or don’t, because you can’t play the thing anywhere.

So verticalFor the sin of creating a licensed-but-unapproved Pac-Man title, Bally-Midway will no longer see any profits from the adventures of the second-littlest Pac. As a result, Jr. Pac-Man is not allowed to appear in any Pac-Collections, and, should you mention Jr. Pac-Man in polite company, the duchess shall be offended, and you will be asked to leave the premises. Jr. Pac-Man may be an interesting twist on the Pac-Formula, but it is nothing more than a redheaded step child to Namco, so it must be thrust out into the cold, never to be seen again (except maybe at Thanksgiving).

And more’s the pity.

Jr. Pac-Man isn’t the best Pac-Man game out there. It might not even be in the top three. But is it better than Pac-Land? Is it more of a Pac-Man game than Pac-Man 2? Does it have more to say about Pac-Play than Pac-Mania? There’s a clear “yes” to each of those questions. Jr. Pac-Man might not be an instant classic, but it’s unavoidably part of the Pac-Pantheon, and should be regarded as such. Jr. Pac-Man deserves a seat at the table, and that means someone born after 1988 deserves a chance to play it.

But it’s never going to happen, because of a licensing dispute from thirty years ago.

Videogame preservation is important, but it seems like the legal department is more important.

FGC #398 Jr. Pac-Man

  • System: Arcade, Atari 2600, DOS, and Commodore 64… and then never again. If you can’t tell, you’re seeing Arcade and Atari 2600 for this article.
  • Number of players: Two player alternating. Does this means the Pacs have two sons?
  • Attempted Preservation: In an effort to find some version of Jr. Pac-Man, I managed to turn up a random flash version online.

    Not wakka

    It is… not great.

  • Continuity Issue: Actually, Jr. Pac-Man first appears as part of Ms. Pac-Man (the game… man, the phrasing on that sentence is weird) being dropped off by the stork as part of a later cinema scene. But then he arrives at the start of Jr. Pac-Man, when the Pacs have a home? Which is it, Pac-Authors?
  • Favorite Item: The final released maze is the “beer maze”. Let’s just go ahead and assume that’s a root beer, and Jr. Pac-Man is not trying to get drunk with his bad-influence ghost girlfriend.
  • What’s in a name: The orange ghost of Jr. Pac-Man is known as… Tim. Maybe he’s a ghost wizard?
  • Did you know? Ms. Pac-Man was a Midway hack, too, but Namco liked it. Go fig.
  • Would I play again: I would like to, but there’s no way I’m fighting the Atari into playing this cartridge anytime soon. I suppose I could always drop a quarter in this guy, though…

    WAKKA WAKKA

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Pocket Tennis Color for the Neo Geo Pocket Color! It’s going to be 399-Love here at the FGC. Please look forward to it!

FGC #376 Ghostbusters (NES)

Who you gonna call?Ghostbusters NES is an eternal plastic monument to how Goggle Bob was a stupid, stupid child.

It all starts with the Commodore 64. For anyone that missed it (because you’re not old as dirt), the Commodore 64 was basically the home personal computer before anyone could afford personal computers. It accepted (inevitably multiple) giant floppy discs, the printer was dot matrix, and it had roughly the same processing power as a bag of doritos, but it could help with work and games! Imagine! A device that mom could use for word processing, and Little Bobby could use for playing exciting games where one block attacked another block! And there were rudimentary programming applications available! Never forget Logo Writer, the “game” where you programmed a turtle to do whatever you desired… assuming you could master Logo programming language, a programming language never to be seen again.

If you haven’t already guessed from that glowing paragraph, the Commodore 64 was my secret origin in more ways than one. Before there was even a NES in the house, the Commodore 64 could (with proper supervision) be utilized by Wee Goggle Bob. And, while I abused the word processing program before I even really knew how to write (I lurned at some point, right?), my favorites on the C64 were always the games. There were many available (I’m not going to accuse my sainted mother of software piracy, but it sure seemed like our C64 library expanded faster than other systems where you couldn’t copy that floppy), but my top choices were always two games: Rampage and Ghostbusters. Rampage was pure Id, and often the choice for two players, but Ghostbusters was much more cerebral.

ZAPGhostbusters might have been my first “comprehensive” videogame. Mario Bros and Mega Man are amazing titles, but they only require you to understand the alphabet up to its second letter (the letter that lets you shoot). Ghostbusters on the Commodore 64 tried to do something different and much more complex. The plot of Ghostbusters is not that you are Ray and Egon, no, you’re you, and you’re starting up a Ghostbusters franchise in New York City. You’re responsible for purchasing equipment, you’re responsible for maintaining your haunted bank account, and, if a Marshmallow Man stomps a building to bits, it’s your ass that is getting fined. While the game does feature a lot of repetitive nonsense (driving to locations is almost entirely pointless, and catching ghosts doesn’t really warrant a half hour of the same gameplay over and over again), there’s enough planning involved that the whole experience could truly challenge players of all ages. Wee Goggle Bob just enjoyed hearing the theme song and getting slimed, but C64 Ghostbusters was borderline WRPGian in its complexity. Screw Dragon Warrior, this is where you could really learn about inventory management while fighting monsters.

And then, four years later, we were burdened with Ghostbusters on the NES. Good news: the car segments are now more interesting, as you can dodge other vehicles and score gas cans as you drive over to your next haunted mansion. Bad news? If you run out of gas, it leads to a “pushing the car” scene so boring, the concept would not be revisited in gaming for at least twenty years. And if you so much as nudge another car, you lose $400 (in 80s dollars!). Once you arrive, capturing ghosts is mostly the same, but 90% of the interesting “Ghostbuster franchise” gameplay has been dropped. Randomly forming giant gelatinous gentlemen are a thing of the past, and any sort of indication as to what you’re supposed to be doing or working towards is gone forever. And, should you survive the experience for entirely too long, you’ll be granted access to fight the final battle.

And that’s when the fun really starts.

The final stage of Ghostbusters is a trek up 25 or so floors of nothing but stairs. And you can’t just “walk”, no, you have to hammer the A/B buttons to get your Ghostbusters to scuttle forward. If you don’t have a turbo controller, please give up immediately, it’s not worth the permanent damage to your thumbs. But even with that (NES) advantage, you have to dodge a set of four ghosts with random patterns the entire time, and, three hits later, it’s game over, man. And the game over screen is depressing!

Loser!

Your only options to survive are outright cheating (say hello, Game Genie), or purchase a pile of helpful items from the shop… which would only require about an hour of ghost grinding. It is nearly impossible to conceive of someone beating this area “the right way”, left alone being ready for more after such a feat.

But assuming you scale those stairs, you’re still not done! The peak of the building features Gozer the Gozerian flanked by Zuul and Vinz, and you’ve basically got a bullet hell final boss. But that’s not all! The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is scaling the building, so, every once in a while, you have to retreat, zap Stay Puft down to the ground floor, and then, finally, resume your assault on Gozer. Lose at any point, and its game over. Actually succeed (against all odds), and you’ll be rewarded with one of the lamest victory screens in all of gaming.

Winner!

Thanks for playing the worst port of a licensed game ever!

But, for me, the “conglaturation !!!” screen is not the end of the embarrassment. No, the worst part of NES Ghostbusters is how I would have done anything to see that stupid ending.

I didn’t own Ghostbusters NES as a child, but a friend, Kevin, did have a copy. By about this time, the Commodore 64 had either been mothballed (I still have it!) or was just occupying the space in my head that said “that’s mom’s computer”, and it didn’t see any additional Ghostbusters time from yours truly. As a result, I had a fuzzy memory of “old Ghostbusters” to compare to new NES Ghostbusters. I recognized that you couldn’t buy a new car like in C64 GB, but, other than that, I assumed it was mostly the same game. And then revisiting the game at a friend’s house years (and many other games) later, I was determined to team up with Kevin and beat Gozer once and for all. Our parents didn’t let us sticky, clumsy kids take games out of the house, so I was unable to connect my Game Genie to Kevin’s Ghostbusters cartridge. Thus, thanks to horrible/prescient parenting, we were unable to cheat. But Kevin and I were in this together, and we were going to beat Ghostbusters if it killed us.

Spoilers: we are now both dead. Big twist: this article is being written by a ghost.

SexyIn all honesty, I think the friendship between Kevin and I couldn’t survive the mental strain of trying to complete this horrid NES game. But try we did! We couldn’t stop ourselves, and we were convinced it was our fault we couldn’t scale those damn stairs. How could there be a bad thing based on the Ghostbusters franchise? We love those guys! They’d never steer us wrong! And the Commodore 64 version was pretty fun! This is the version on the same system as Castlevania 3! It has to be good! What are we doing wrong?!

And then, decades later, ROB chose this ghastly game. And then I played it side by side with its C64 brother. And then, finally, after years of experience, I learned that Ghostbusters for NES is just the worst. I’m okay, Kevin is probably okay (we lost touch sometime after Sega Genesis), and it was Ghostbusters that was wrong all along.

So I only spent 30 years wallowing in ignorance. Could be worse. Could be 71 years…

FGC #376 Ghostbusters (NES)

  • System: A version more or less similar to this Ghostbusters appeared on the Commodore 64, Atari 2600, Atari 800 (don’t be confused by the lower number, it was the greater system), and Sega Master System. And, yes, NES, because there wasn’t enough pain in the world.
  • Number of players: Looks like we can get three Ghostbusters on the screen at a time, but only one player is allowed.
  • GrrrrJust play the gig, man: The Commodore 64 version starts with the Ghostbusters theme, and a “karaoke” style display of the lyrics so you can sing along to your favorite legally Huey Lewis song. This joy is mitigated somewhat by the digitized Ghostbusters theme being looped forever for the entire game.
  • Big Finale: There is no crazy staircase in the C64 version, but you do have to avoid a skipping Stay Puft Marshmallow Man before booking it upstairs to cross the streams and save the day. It is a tremendously more satisfying climax.
  • New Game Plus: And speaking of which, beating the C64 version will reward the player with a password that will allow the Ghostbusters to start with more money on the next playthrough. This might be the first “new game plus” feature in a videogame.
  • Goggle Bob Fact: All of these bullet points are about the C64 version because I never want to see the NES version ever again.
  • Did you know? The Commodore 64 version has four cars available for purchase, and one is a 1963 Hearse. This is the closest vehicle to the “real” Ecto-1 available, and may be purchased for $4,800. Strangely enough, the car’s model does not correspond with the movie’s Ecto-1, but the price is exactly what Ray pays for the vehicle. Take canon where you can find it.
  • Would I play again: Never. Never ever ever. There isn’t a ghost of a chance.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Dragon Warrior for the NES! Dammit! Is this because I insulted the title earlier in this article? I feel like I’m being punished with gaming history. Oh well. Please look forward to it.

This sucks