Marth steps out of the shadows and into another remake

Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon (2008)

Hollywood’s gotten itself into a creative funk again, and but for the presence of a hundred thousand Marvel and Disney films, made with the express purpose of giving these two creators more disposable cash than any piddly old first world country, there isn’t much to see in the cinema.

Well, that’s not fully true: there are a bunch of remakes for you to “treat” your eyes to. I even hear rumblings that they want to redo The Breakfast Club. Simply impossible – how do you catch lightning in a bottle twice? The kids would be on their phones all day, secretly capturing videos of each other to post publicly in humiliating fashion for the victims, and that would be that. God, I’m glad the phones weren’t smart when I was in school.

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My body speaks the language of Love Love

Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney (2008)

When you’re a young man desperate for a shag, you’ll try anything. You would probably never have guessed it, but I had no idea how women work, and I still don’t. How could I? I had no sister growing up. I shunned girls at a young age for fear of cooties, or becoming a sissy. I only went to all boy schools, another fine idea from the Catholic Church.

They brought us boys and girls together to interact in college, but by then it was far too late. I had no chat, no patter at all. Toilet humour I had bunches of, but that never got me very far – and with a few dozen drinks onboard I really did just sound like a clogged U-bend.

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How Burkey longs to be a skinny flat white

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney – Trials and Tribulations (2008)

Try as I might, I’m never going to be accepted into the inner circles of polite company, and I think I’ve finally found the reason why: I’m not a coffee drinker. You mustn’t get me wrong, I actually do enjoy the taste of the stuff. I’ll even do you the favour of eating a coffee-flavoured chocolate sweet every now and again. It’s just the coffee culture that I can’t get on board with.

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The property market is a Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild World

Animal Crossing: Wild World (2006)

Almost every bet or prediction I’ve ever made in my life has turned out to be a turkey, you know, which is why I don’t go to betting shops, I don’t play the lotto, and I certainly don’t eat Rowntrees Randoms. To wit, I’ve been predicting, or perhaps more accurately praying, for a drop in house prices for, oh, almost ten years. But oh no, every force in the housing market is out to get old Burkey, so up those houses go.

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Whip your arse into shape before you’re over das hill

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney – Justice for All (2007)

You know you’re finished, over the hill, donezo and that it’s not gonna happen for you when new sports stars start coming through who are younger than you. I’m now older than the vast majority of the F1 grid, for example, and even if wash-ups like Alonso and Raikkonen push the average up, it’s still mind-boggling that they let a 16-year-old Max Verstappen drive an F1 car.

At that age I couldn’t even operate a shopping trolley safely, and if you put me in a car I’d have simply screamed and hoped out, GTA style. That’s yet another nutty thing about the United States, isn’t it? How they’ll let 16-year-olds behind the wheel? No drinking until you’re 21 though, and even the slightest hint of marijuana and you’re in prison for life, peeing blood for the foreseeable.

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A good night’s sleep is an adult’s greatest fantasy

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Final Fantasy III (1990)

Like a lot of people out there, I’m a fool to myself almost every night. No, for once I’m not talking about self-debasement – I’m talking about sleep, and that’s deprivation, not depravation. And I know you’ll sympathise with me; will have experienced that terrible moment in life, when you finally decide to try for some sleep, you set your phone alarm and it tell you, “Alarm set for 2 hours and 32 minutes from now”.

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“We need to talk… I think we’d be better just as Friend Codes”

Mario Kart DS (2005)

Every man out there who’s managed to convince a woman to stay in his companny for more than three days will have experienced that blood-curdling, spine-tingling text message that reads: “We need to talk”. I’m certain it’s taught as part of the curriculum in all-girls’ schools.

You know, a quick module they do just before they learn how to show indecisiveness about what they’d like to eat, and how to get the last word in arguments. Well, if you’re a male and you’re reading this, fear not because I have struck a blow for our whole gender – I have subjected a woman to the “We need to talk” routine.

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I’m dreaming of a heroic adventure, just like the ones we used to know…

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Dragon Quest VI: Realms of Reverie (1995)

I’m just back off a week of annual leave, but I don’t even get to have a pathetic attempt at a tan to brag about, as I was cooped up in rainy Ireland for the week. Both the Irish and Greek governments aren’t entertaining the idea of me travelling on Hellenic booze cruises, and Vegas isn’t exactly enticing right now. Something to do with a virus. Is that nanny state-ism in action or what?

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I, Burkey, do take you, Goku, to be my lawfully wedded Saiyan

dragon quest 5

Dragon Quest V: Hand of the Heavenly Bride (1992)

It seems I never get invited to weddings – I’ve only been invited to two in my life, and neither time was I of drinking age, which is no good. Wedding rates in Ireland are going down, too. Small wonder: the last thing you want to end up having is that type of marriage where you’ve gone out, found someone you ended up hating and bought them a house. Worse than that, you’ll go on to lose this house in a particularly messy divorce that you’ll be asked about at each and every family gathering you get guilted into attending.

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Save the world from scaldy monsters? I will in me hole

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Dragon Quest IV: Chapters of the Chosen (1990)

Accents are a weird and wonderful thing. What I can never get over is how you only need to book it down the road before your own homely accent becomes strange and foreign – I’ve read before that in the UK, there’s an entirely different accent every 25km. So you’ll be going on your usual Sunday morning half-marathon, and then suddenly you find yourself surrounded by people speaking in this alien creole. And it’s a linguistic rule, perhaps written on an Ogham stone somewhere, that says “where there be accents, there be slang”.

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