A short story without much fun is something truly criminal

Yoshi’s Story (1998)

I’ve got to come clean with you today – I’m a no good criminal. Actually, I’m no stranger to breaking the law: I’ve pirated just about every form of media you can think of. I’ve even got Virtual Boy ROMs on my computer, for heaven’s sake. I’ve downloaded – and watched – Mean Girls and The Notebook. I’m not sure if you want to know any more about my depraved downloading habits, but one thing I’ll tell you – my conscience is clear.

After all, when downloading films and music, I’m only taking a bit of money out of the pockets of those fine upstanding fellas like Harvey Weinstein. Today though, I have to confess to something a bit more grave: renting games and not returning them on time.

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Cardboard teams win cardboard trophies, but there’s no prizes for Yoshi this time

Yoshis Crafted World

Yoshi’s Crafted World (2019)

I’ve been trying to cast my mind back to the moment when I realized that I was never going to be a team player. There’ve been many occasions when I’ve shunned everybody (haven’t we all), but I think I’ve found the watershed moment. It was in either Fourth Class or Fifth Class in school, which will mean nothing to you, but then Year 12 and 8th Grade mean nothing to me either, so we’re even on that score. Just know that we would have been about 12 years old.

It was one of those strange whims that teachers get for whatever reason, that comes completely out of nowhere and is nothing to do with books, which takes me right out of the comfort zone. We were all split up into groups, and we each had ten minutes to turn some cardboard strips and boxes into an articulated lorry that could move. Now you should know, that kind of thing, building something that works, with engineering and levers and axles and physics and God knows what else – that sort of thing is just not for me.

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A puzzle game by any other name would play as sweet

tetris attack

Tetris Attack (1996)

I’m all about nominative determinism lately, the idea that people subconsciously choose their path in life based on their own last name. So if your surname is Wainwright, you might find yourself gravitating towards owning a brothel as you’ll be well used to dealing with wagons. I once met someone with the last name Victory, and I’ll tell you this, he was no loser. If your last name is Cooper, then hard luck, barrel making probably isn’t much of a viable trade anymore. But you could always marry someone of last name Ramsbottom and eke out a living there.

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Top 5 Retro Final Bosses

top5retrobosses

Top 5 Retro Final Bosses (2020)

You’ve shelled out your hard-earned cash on a brand-spanking new game, gotten through the first few levels, built up your skill and routed all the henchmen. Now all that stands between you and that satisfying, sweet release of the credits screen is the dastardly Final Boss. Yes, it’s tough to even think of any game that doesn’t boast some sort of a final foe for you to defeat – and in the case of most games, particularly in days gone by, the Final Boss was the biggest showpiece of the entire caper.

Wouldn’t you feel short-changed if you took down a load of megabosses, and fought your way to the end of a challenging run-and-gun game, only to be confronted with a teensy pushover of a last opponent? You couldn’t have ended Street Fighter 2 by fighting Dhalsim, could you? In the case of final bosses, bigger and meaner is definitely better. Here, we take a look at the Top 5 Retro Final Bosses, showing that even primitive hardware can throw up some of the most cataclysmic battles ever.

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We may all hate them, but babies have it easy

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Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island (1995)

I want you to sit back and see if you can think of your earliest memory. I’m not asking this in the hopes of you giving me your accounts, photos or videos of being breastfed – although if you do, please send them to the usual address. It’s just interesting, isn’t it? You may very well have memories of yourself from back when you were a crying, gibbering, clumsy, self-defecating mess, and I mean from before you turned drinking age. No matter how great you are today, you know that squawking child that caused irritation to every member of the public in a 400-yard radius and prompted mass tutting and unspoken, polite disapproval?  That was you that was, and we all hated you.

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