#oneaday 214: You're Not Tom Cruise

I'm not Doctor Who, you're not Tom Cruise. So don't even think about attempting to invent your own cocktails.

I say this as a result of a memorable evening one night at university, a good few years back now. It was one of those evenings where we had just decided it was vitally important to get as blind drunk as possible, as is often the wont of people at university. At least one member of our circle of friends was in possession of some of the more "creative" spirits and liqueurs available, so we pooled our resources in an attempt to create The Next Big Thing.

To be fair, given the evidence we'd discovered on how easy it is to make a putridly-coloured yet remarkably tasty cocktail, we had faith in our own abilities to produce something delicious.

Shortly after arriving at university, we had all discovered the joy of the Juicy Lucy, a pint-based cocktail made up of a glug of vodka, a splash of Bols Blue, a bit of Taboo and then the remainder of the glass filled up with roughly half-and-half of orange juice and lemonade. The resultant glass of green liquid looks remarkably like what happens if you fill a pint glass with water and then squirt too much Fairy liquid into it. It also turns your poo green if you drink too much of it, a fact which several of us were unprepared for and thus spent a not-inconsiderable amount of time fretting the next day that we had some form of terrifying bum-cancer.

Alongside the Juicy Lucy was the even-simpler concoction dreamed up by our hall of residence's bar on "Hawaiian Night" (a night when everyone was supposed to wear Hawaiian shirts, and they turned the heating up full)—the Passion Wagon. The Passion Wagon was, again, a pint-based cocktail consisting of a shot of Passoa (passion fruit liqueur) and a bottle of Reef. That's it. It came out bright orange and tasted like Five Alive. It did not, to my knowledge, do anything unpleasant to the colour of one's bodily fluids or waste matter.

So going on that evidence, we figured that making a cocktail was pretty much simply a case of finding things which might taste nice together and then combining them together in a glass. Also, that vodka, when added to any drink, immediately makes something "more alcoholic" without making it taste any different.

How wrong we were. The first mistake we made was forgetting that Baileys curdles quite easily. After creating a number of drinks that looked like someone had spunked in, we decided that we weren't skilled enough to do that clever thing where you make the Baileys float on top. So we left that alone. For a while. Then we elected to try combining various different flavoured liqueurs together. The least (or most, depending on how you look at this) successful attempt was dubbed "The Brown Sauce", owing to its resemblance in taste to HP Sauce. For the readers unfamiliar with the wonder of HP Sauce, it is good on a bacon sandwich. It is less good in liquid form and drunk.

Eventually we gave up and went back to staples like Archers and lemonade. We didn't have another home-made cocktail night after that. We left it strictly to the professionals.

#oneaday, Day 213: Intensity

There's an old saying, isn't there, that claims if you lose the use of one of your senses, the others become much more acute. Having never been blinded, deafened or whatever the equivalent words for losing your senses of taste, smell or touch are, I can't speak for the truth of this. Although I did have a nasty cold one time that stopped me from being able to smell very much, though a good curry sorted that right out, just in time for me to be able to smell the musty flatulence caused by the not-inconsiderable amount of spices therein.

But there is one sphere where pretty much anyone can get a taste of what this is like. The Internet. When you're talking to someone on the Internet, you might not be able to see or hear them. You're certainly not touching them, smelling them or tasting them, unless there's some exciting new Skype-compatible technology you're all using that I haven't heard of yet. But regardless, friendships and relationships form, grow, break, explode, spread, all the things that real relationships and friendships do, in fact.

Except for the fact that the lack of "something"—be it sight, sound, smell, touch or taste—makes everything that much more intense. For many people, cultivating a friendship in "real life" is a drawn-out process that takes some time of getting to know each other, getting a feel for one another, understanding what makes each other tick and so on. This process still happens between people who have met online, but at a vastly accelerated rate. The very nature of communication on the Internet means that responses can be considered more carefully and, assuming you're an honest person, made more honest than you might feel able to be if you're sitting in front of someone, their piercing eyes gazing into your soul.

Of course, the opposite's also true. It's much, much easier to be a bastard and a liar thanks to the wonder of the Internet. And, in many cases, without consequences. Some people find this fun. But the emotion and the hurt it can cause is just as real as the feelings of friendship, affection, even love that can also be felt in these relationships between people who have never seen each other, in some cases.

On the whole, though, the opportunity to meet and talk to people from all over the world is something which should never be taken for granted, whatever form it comes in. Whether it's posting on a message board, writing an email, using Twitter, checking out someone's avatar in Second Life, raiding with guildies in WoW; without the Internet, there's no way that a whole bunch of these people would be in our lives. Old friendships would be lost and forgotten. New friendships might never be made. Soulmates might never find each other. And you wouldn't be able to read the deranged, 1:30am ramblings of someone such as myself.

Some might say the world would be a better place for that. But, y'know, I kinda like it this way.

#oneaday, Day 212: Eat Poop, You Cat!

When you're in a dinner party kind of situation and the conversation seems to be drifting towards some sort of standstill, there are several things you can do to rectify the situation. You can bring out the "big boys' alcohol"—the whisky, the brandy, the port, the strong stuff that only ever seems to come out at dinner parties. You can invite everyone to retire to a different room where you can regale them with tales of how you acquired each and every record in your substantial Bavarian folk music collection. If you're a Cockney, you can gather around the upright piano and have a knees-up. Or you can resort to some sort of game.

Dinner party games aren't quite the same as "board game night" games. Whipping out a copy of Power Grid or Agricola is inadvisable unless everyone at the dinner table is an avid boardgamer already. No; something that is either quick and easy to play, or something that everyone knows is what is called for. On the "something that everyone knows" front, there are mainstays like Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly and all manner of things like that. The downside to these is that they take quite a long time to play. So that leaves the other alternative: something that is quick and easy.

You could play Hangman. But that's a bit primary school, as is I Spy. You could play Murder in the Dark, but you can guarantee that someone has forgotten the rules because there is no one person in the world who can remember all the rules to Murder in the Dark. You could play Musical Chairs, but there's always some killjoy bastard who doesn't want to get up and dance. (Usually me.)

Or you could play Eat Poop, You Cat!

This is not as sinister as it sounds. In fact, it's a very simple, quick and easy game to play. All you need are enough pieces of paper and drawing implements as you have participants. The more the merrier, generally, but the optimum number of people is somewhere around six to eight.

This game is very straightforward. There are no winners and losers. It's purely for fun and entertainment. The way it works is as follows:

1. Everyone around the table writes a short sentence on their piece of paper. For brevity's sake, you may wish to limit the maximum number of words. But generally someone will go over the limit anyway, so that's a largely pointless endeavour in most cases.

2. Everyone passes their piece of paper to the person on their left (or right, if you prefer going that way. You big freak.) and the new owner of the paper has to draw a picture representing the sentence.

3. The person who has just drawn a picture folds over the original sentence and passes the paper around again, so the next person can only see the picture.

4. This next person has to write a sentence representing what they think the picture is showing.

5. They then fold over the picture, so the next person can only see the sentence.

6. The process repeats until each piece of paper has gone right around the table and back to its original owner, alternating picture-sentence-picture-sentence.

7. The papers are then unfolded.

8. Hilarity ensues.

Like Chinese Whispers, the game often ends up in a rather different place to where it began. It plays on people's imaginations and creativity, and it's pretty rare—and actually fairly undesirable—for people to manage to keep the meaning of the original sentence intact.

There's a whole website dedicated to this game with some fantastic example playthroughs. I can highly recommend you play it the next time you start boring your dinner party guests. Rather than being remembered as that deathly dull host, you'll be remembered as a Super Fun Person! Which is good. Unless you really don't like hosting dinner parties, in which case you may actively wish to bore your guests so much that they never return.

#oneaday, Day 211: The Only Art Lesson You Will Ever Need

"I can't draw!" I hear you cry, assuming you're shouting about not being able to draw at this exact moment, which you probably aren't. But no matter! Help is at hand. You don't have to be an excellent artist to be able to draw things that are distinctive and interesting. I'm going to let you into the secrets of my own craft which you have doubtless seen throughout this blog. The art of the stickman.

I'll tell you a secret: I can draw. Sort of. Not great, and I've never studied it or had any particularly formal training. But I can sort of draw. I just choose not to when it comes to the pictures on this blog, because ever since secondary school when my good buddy Ed "Roth Dog" Padgett and I discovered that stickmen are actually the most expressive things in the universe, we've often chosen to stick to stickmen, no pun intended. On a side note, Roth actually can draw, as you'll see here.

But anyway. Let's begin.

Step 1: Pose

When you're drawing a stick person, the first thing you need to consider is what they're going to be doing. Since the body is very simple and you're going to spend most of the time on the face, this is a simple matter of making a quick decision. Most people stick to the traditional model (figure 1, but you can get stick figures doing all manner of weird and wonderful things (figure 2) even before you've put a face on them. Remember to add feet. Feet make poses more versatile. Adding feet to your stickmen is the difference between standing casually and tapping its foot impatiently.

Step 2a: Normal faces

The next step, which a lot of people leave out, stopping at step 1, is to add a face to your stickman. You only need three lines to put a face on a stickman. Two vertical lines for eyes, and one horizontal or curvy line for a mouth. These lines can be modified to produce a variety of expressions (figure 3).

Fig. 3: Possible stickman facial expressions.

Step 2b: Open-mouthed faces

If one of the closed-mouth expressions just isn't expressing things expressively enough for you, then you may wish to consider opening your stickman's mouth. What you put inside your stickman's mouth can make a large amount of difference to what the expression means (figure 4).

Step 2c: Exaggerated faces

If none of the above faces are quite getting across what you are trying to say with your stickman, then simply throw any semblance of realism out of the window and do something ridiculous. These are stickmen, after all. They can do whatever the hell you damn well want (figure 5).

Step 3: Detail

Once you've come up with a pose and a face, all you need to do is add some individuality to the stickman by adding some detail. This is normally done via the medium of hair. Creating different stickman characters is a simple matter of giving them different hairstyles. No-one will ever notice that they have the same faces and poses. You can even change a stick person's gender at the drop of a hat simply by changing the hairstyle (figure 6).

And with just those three steps, you are officially done! You have created your own unique character. Congratulations. You're a cartoonist.

#oneaday, Day 210: Literacy

Well, tonight was the night we recorded the first episode of the all-new Squadron of Shame SquadCast. And we think you're going to like it a lot.

There's going to be a lot more community involvement in the whole thing, too. This is led by the Squawkbox, a communal blog where anyone with a WordPress account can contribute and join the discussion. But there's nothing to stop people blogging about the things we talk about, either. In fact, it'd be awesome to see some lengthy written thoughts about the things we discuss.

So I thought I'd kick that off with some material related to a discussion we had on the show. Not to spoil anything, but it's an interesting topic.

The question is that of being "literate" in a medium versus that of being "well-read". On the podcast, we particularly focused on gaming, as you might expect. You'll find the conclusions we came to on the podcast itself. See, I like to tease.

But it's true for any medium, and not just books, either. My old friend Ed "Roth Dog" Padgett (follow him on Twitter just to stop him moaning, too, if you would) is most certainly well-read in the medium of movies, for example. He knows what makes a "good" or a "bad" movie. He knows about different directors, actors, genres, stylistic approaches, all manner of things I could never even begin to understand right now because I am merely literate in the medium of movies. I know what makes a decent structure of a movie, and I know what I enjoy. But I don't watch movies that often, and as such there may be some things that I don't appreciate in the same way that others do.

Take my recent reaction to the movie Predators. I thought Predators was a festering pile of horseshit, yet many people whom I've spoken to about it since claimed to rather enjoy it. Does this mean that I'm "wrong"? No; it simply means that my reaction is different to other people. In the case of a lot of those people, misty-eyed nostalgia over the original Predator films probably played a part. And in some cases, they quite possibly genuinely liked the generic, sprawling mess that was that movie. I have only ever seen Predator once and I'm not even convinced I've ever seen Predator 2. I think I have. But I can't remember.

I'll freely admit that I'm not particularly well-read when it comes to movies. I've never seen Citizen Kane, Clockwork Orange or Rocky Horror Picture Show. I haven't seen the vast majority of Arnie's output. I can name about three directors off the top of my head. I struggle to name a "favourite movie". But I can at least appreciate a decent movie when I see one.

With books, it's the most literal kind of, well, literacy. You can read. Or you can be well-read. If you can read, there may be stuff you enjoy. Perhaps you enjoy Mills and Boon romance novels, but only for the naughty bits. Perhaps you like the cheesiest kind of epic fantasy there is. Perhaps you like a diverse range of stuff.

In every medium, everyone has the opportunity to become "literate", and to understand that medium on a level that is sufficient to make it accessible and enjoyable. But it takes a lot more work to become truly "well-read" and to understand what the "canonical" titles in that medium are. And in media as diverse as these, it's entirely likely that everyone has their own opinions on what the "canon" might include.

So, anyone interested enough to comment, then: pick a medium that you feel particularly "well-read" in, and give us some examples of what you think might be "essentials"—the "canon" for that medium. I'm intrigued to hear some responses.

#oneaday, Day 209: Coming Soon

Tomorrow night, The Squadron of Shame are back in action after something of a hiatus.

For those of you unfamiliar with our unique brand of discussion and podcastery, let me explain what it's all about, and when the new podcast hits, you'll be able to come and join the fun.

The Squadron of Shame started as a result of a feature on 1up Yours dubbed "The Pile of Shame". The term has since spread around the Internet somewhat, and it refers to all of the things that you've bought and never got around to reading, listening to or playing. In the case of the original 1up feature, it referred to that pile of games you have on your shelf that are begging to be played, but somehow inevitably get left behind whenever the latest triple-A hotness makes an appearance. The first game they took on was the excellent Psychonauts.

As it happened, the feature was somewhat short-lived on the 1up podcast. But a number of community members ran with the concept on the companion forums for the 1up "radio" output. We formed a club page on 1up which is still there, though largely inactive these days. We'd pick a game which was supposed to be good (or at least interesting), play it through as a group and discuss it all together. Some fascinating discussions resulted, and it also allowed many people to expose themselves to a variety of games which they might not have done otherwise. Games like Star Control II, Freespace 2, Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth and Psi-Ops.

As time moved on, the group wanted more. The merging of all the 1up boards into one mangled mess meant that the reasoned debate of the old threads was much more difficult. Topics would get derailed and it was clear that a new approach was needed.

Thus began the SquadCast, the Squadron of Shame's official podcast. Starting with independent rabbinical adventure game The Shivah, select members of the group banded together to do what they did best: play through a game together, then put their heads together and have a discussion about it. Ably hosted by the fine Mr Chris Whittington and edited/produced in a sort-of OKish manner by my good self, the show is now 29 episodes strong and has covered subjects as diverse as the Commodore 64, Russian FPS-adventure depress 'em up Pathologic and charming indie puzzler Machinarium.

Following circumstances beyond their control (mostly beyond my control, I admit) there's been something of a gap since our last episode. So we've thought that now is the time to take a break, consider how to make the show better and come back stronger than ever with some brand new output in a whole new format.

So, tomorrow we're recording. And next week we'll be proudly presenting The Squadron of Shame SquadCast, Season Two. Taking some of the advice we got from Jeff Green, Shawn Elliott, Ken Levine and some others who I've forgotten speaking on the Podcasting for PR panel at PAX East, we've made some changes.

The show's going to be bi-weekly. This means that rather than have variable gaps as everyone clamours to complete a "mission" before we talk about it, some regularity will allow us to build up a more, well, regular listenership.

Next up, it's going to have a static cast of host Chris Whittington, Mark Whiting, Jeff Parsons and myself with occasional guest spots available where appropriate. Jeff is in the process of composing us a brand new theme tune, too, so it's going to be a complete sonic reboot.

Most importantly, though, each episode is no longer going to be focused on a specific game. Instead, the focus will be on particular "topics", with occasional traditional "mission" podcasts interspersed as appropriate. This means that people will hopefully be more inclined to tune in regularly and hear what we have to say, rather than skipping episodes about games they have no interest in. As part of this, the official Squawkbox of the Squad will be playing a more prominent role, with community questions and discussions a regular occurrence. If you already have a WordPress account, you can head right over and start chatting with us. If not, it's simple to sign up. Everyone who's interested in discussing video games and who isn't afraid of the odd (all right, frequent) wall of text is very welcome to pay us a visit.

Besides the changes, it'll be our same wordy, intellectual, chin-stroking discussion about video games, representing one of the most unique podcasts on the Internet. We'd love it if you could join us for our relaunch. Visit the Squawkbox, follow us on Twitter, become a Fan… sorry, Like us on Facebook and find our past episodes and those of our sister podcast The Exploding Barrel Podcast here.

2010 is going to be a great year for the Squad. We hope you'll come along for the ride.

#oneaday, Day 208: Keeping Buff

I started re-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer a few weeks ago. I'm just up to the start of season four now, which means I've also started re-watching Angel, too. Both shows remain absolutely fantastic examples of how to get television right. Spoilarz ahead, naturally.

The main thing both shows get right is in having strong characters. Given that they're both named after their protagonists, this is an important factor. Buffy herself is a pretty multifaceted character with a good line in one-liners, quips as well as pouty American teen-ness. But it's the supporting cast that steal the show. Xander's deadpan-ness. Willow's meekness, often at odds with the important things she is trying to say. Oz's taciturn nature. And Giles. Dear old Giles, one of the greatest characters of any show ever.

In fact, ironically for Angel, the weakest link in Buffy's cast is probably Angel himself. When he's broody, soul-having Angel, he's pretty, well, boring a lot of the time. When he's Angelus he's genuinely threatening. But for the majority of the time he's brooding over Buffy, he's not really that interesting. But as soon as he takes centre stage in Angel, he comes into his own. He gets much more in the way of a personality. He quips and verbally spars with the bad guys more. And he's just a much more interesting character. Presumably the reason he was written out of Buffy in the first place was the fact that he had a ton of untapped potential which was never going to be explored while the doomed romance between him and the Slayer was dragged out.

That's not to say I don't like the Buffy/Angel romance plotline. Far from it. In fact, Season Two remains one of my favourite pieces of television simply because of the utterly tragic nature of much of it. The finale to that season is magnificently emotional.

I remember when I first watched Buffy. It was derided by a lot of my friends who hadn't seen it as being a stupid show with no depth. And with a title like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its 6pm dinnertime slot on BBC2, it's easy to see why people assumed that. In fact, even in its early seasons (arguably slightly less so in the first season), it demonstrated an emotional maturity and a sense of "telling it like it is" that few shows have managed to replicate. I think I also found some emotional resonance with at least some of the characters, too, since I was the same age as them at the time of its original broadcast. I was going through the same stages of life at the same time they did. Admittedly, with less frequent apocalypses. But I recognised myself in many of the situations they encountered.

The reason I like Buffy is the same reason I enjoy the Persona series. The juxtaposition between the fantastic and the mundane. The knowledge that even if you're a superhero with special powers who can save the world, you'll still have "life stuff" to deal with. The demonstration that we're all human, whatever our abilities. I can relate to that. Everyone has demons to fight, struggles to face, whether those things are real, physical things, or personal things locked inside.

#oneaday, Day 207: Up 'n' Down

I think I might be bipolar.

Granted, my only justification for that is a cursory glance at Wikipedia and the observation that yesterday I was a depressive mess barely able to function, while today I've been not exactly what I'd call "enthusiastic", but have at least got some things done and felt relatively "normal".

There are, of course, extenuating circumstances to the way I'm feeling so it may not be a chronic condition after all, and naturally I wouldn't want to publicly declare myself a manic-depressive without consulting an actually-qualified professional. Rather than, you know, a website where you can look up the details of a Frijj milkshake immediately after consulting it for psychiatric symptoms. (Consulting the site. Not the milkshake.)

The mind's a funny thing. I often wonder if my mind and imagination work the same way as those of other people. I have a very visual imagination. I can picture things very clearly. I can imagine situations actually happening and unfolding. I can empathise with people because I can picture myself in their situation. And if there's something I'm anxious or nervous about, I generally make it worse for myself by "replaying" the potential situation in my head before it's even happened, and when it might not even happen at all.

This kind of mind is great for creativity, of course. It's great for writing, too. When I want to write a cool description of something, all I have to do is imagine the thing in question being right there in front of me. In my mind, I can look at it from all angles, pick it up, touch it, smell it, taste it or punch it in the face. Where appropriate, of course. And then I just have to summon up the words to describe those sensations. It's an interesting skill to have, and it's one thing about myself that I wouldn't want to change for anything, as inconvenient as it can be at times.

Inconvenient? Yes. As I said, this kind of imagination sometimes leads to anticipating things before they happen. I'm not talking having "visions" or premonitions or anything. I'm talking picturing what "might" happen, and "planning" the event in my head. Inevitably, things never quite go the way I expect them to. Sometimes this is a good thing. Sometimes this is a bad thing. It goes to show the pointlessness of the whole exercise. But still I do it.

Sometimes I do it in reverse. I picture a situation that has already happened and I "plan" what might happen should I suddenly and magically get the ability to reverse time and do something again. Or indeed, to load a quicksave. (I swear, being able to "quicksave" would be the best superpower ever.) This is an even more pointless exercise. There's no way I can change the fact that, when unexpectedly confronted with Don Woods, father of the adventure game, I didn't really know what to say and ended up babbling like a schoolgirl confronted with Justin Bieber. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. At least it would be if you could do anything about it.

Oh well.

#oneaday, Day 206: Hello.

First up, please excuse me for just one moment.

AAAARRRRGHH!!
AAAAAGGGHHHH!!!
GRRRAAAARRR!!!
RAWWWRRR!!!

Thanks for bearing with that for a moment. It was deeply and completely necessary. Also, I had to reformat it so it didn't mess up the formatting of the page. Rawr.

Right. So, this post then. I thought I'd introduce myself. Why? Because my first ever post on this blog was a long time ago, and many things have changed since then. Also, due to various things that I'm not going to go into and rant about right now, I am still looking for work.

Particularly writing work.

I am a writer. That's what I do. First and foremost. More than anything. It is what I spend the vast majority of my days doing. I write this blog every day. I write news for the very awesome Kombo, staffed by some of the finest people I've ever had the good fortune to work with but not meet in many cases. I've written two articles for IGN. I've scribed a number of articles for utterly wonderful DRM-free digital-distribution site Good Old Games. I've submitted a bunch of stuff to BitMob, most of which was promoted to the front page as a "featured article". I've covered a variety of things for parental gaming advice site WhatTheyPlay. And I edit and produce the podcast for the Squadron of Shame, which will shortly be relaunching in a triumphant new format. I also set up the Squad's community site, the Squadron of Shame Squawkbox, which you're welcome to join. In fact, there's a big-ass list of most of the things I've done right here.

I have been semi-to-moderately prolific. And I love it. There's more stuff in the pipeline, too. Find out more as it happens.

So, using the power of Web 2.0, I'd like to ask a favour of anyone reading this.

Pimp me out. Share my stuff. Tell people how awesome I am. Point them at this blog, and the #oneaday project. Tell them about my stupid stickmen drawings. Show them my in-depth, opinionated news articles on Kombo which actually provoke discussion when I dare to mention Phantasy Star in anything less than positive terms. Dazzle them with my mad interviewing skills on my IGN articles about Crackdown 2, the first time I'd ever visited a developer.

'Cause I'd very much like this all to work out. Writing is awesome, and through it I've learned a lot about myself, met some fantastic and awesome people and joined a community of people who are as passionate about the things we love as I am. It may not always pay well (or indeed at all in many cases), but it's what I love to do. So if you can help me gain any exposure using your undoubtedly fabulous amounts of influence that you hold on the web—that's a really nice shirt, by the way—then I'd of course be eternally grateful and will buy you a bag of chocolate raisins or something.

In the meantime, a good friend (and Captain #oneaday), Mr Chris Schilling, has convinced me I should be pitching stuff around the place. So if you're a writer or involved in the publishing industry yourself and have any contacts you'd be willing and able to introduce me to, I'd very much appreciate that, too.

Shameless, I know. But whadyagunnado?

#oneaday, Day 205: Protect Me, Knight!!

As I've said before, the Xbox Indie Games Marketplace is a veritable treasure trove of golden doubloons mixed in with stinky, festering turds of considerable awfulness. Tonight I'd like to share with you another one of these golden nuggets of goodness.

It's called Protect Me, Knight but in the Marketplace it's listed under its Japanese name which I don't know how to type owing to its excessive use of kanji. Kanji? Whatever they are. Yes, it's a Japanese game—those of you who have explored the Indie Marketplace will be aware that the Japanese titles on there often have some of the best production values and gameplay. Even if said production values and gameplay are perpetually stuck about fifteen years in the past.

Take Protect Me, Knight, for example. This is a game so committed to its retro presentation that upon loading it, the graphics sometimes corrupt and you have to blow on the cartridge by pressing A. This is a joke which is funny the first time but which can mercifully be skipped after this point.

Once you're into the game proper, you're shown a screen with a princess in a castle imploring the player to "HELP ME MY HERO" and "KILL !@#?ING GOBLINS". Leaving the game in its attract mode summons up some of the finest Engrish you will ever see. I won't spoil it for you here. But it's absolutely legendary. In fact, it's such a wonderful example of Engrish that it's almost impossible to believe that it wasn't done deliberately.

Anyway, the game is a 4-player co-operative game where players can pick one of four characters—Fighter, Ninja, Amazon or Mage—to play as in order to protect the princess from the hordes of "!@#?ING GOBLINS" who want to re-kidnap her. This is achieved on a NES-style static screen. Players run around frantically beating the crap out of all and sundry by hammering the A button or pressing B to use each character's unique skill. Players can also build barricades around the princess and even push her out of harm's way. Scoring hot combos causes the princess to throw "LOVE POINT" at you, which doubles as currency and experience points. Between levels, "LOVE POINT" can be spent on powering up characters, or during levels they can be spent to build or upgrade barricades.

It becomes very hectic very quickly. And with multiple players, it's a hell of a lot of fun. It's an incredibly simple game—and pretty short, too—but it is unashamedly fun. And the Engrish continues throughout the game. The skill descriptions for each new level are hilarious. For example, the fighter's top skill (a spinning melee attack) is described as "MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE TORNADE!" (with previous levels being "TORNADE!", "MORE TORNADE!", "MORE MORE MORE TORNADE!" and… you get the idea.)

It's a stupid yet fun game in an unashamedly retro style, yet it's unmistakably a next-gen take on a retro title. There's no way a NES would be able to handle the hundreds of sprites on screen that this game throws at you without breaking a sweat.

It would make a great XBLA title with online play and leaderboards. Sadly, its immense Japaneseness is sure to see it eternally relegated to the backwater of the Xbox Marketplace that is XBIG. Still, I've done my little bit to raise exposure to it now. So gather three friends together, fire up this game for a very reasonable 240 points and Have A Fun!!