An oft-forgotten monster type in the preternatural pantheon (unless you’re a fan of JRPGs or Dungeons & Dragons, that is) is the humble ooze or slime. These corpulent masses of gelatinous gunk used to be a mainstay of the big screen in the era of B-movie horror, with Steve McQueen’s The Blob leading the way and such masterpieces as X the Unknown and Caltiki – The Immortal Monster also getting in on the sentient slime action.
Not to be outdone, Sega Technical Institute came up with the idea for a 16-bit video game with a focus on vengeful viscosity, offering ’90s kids the chance to live out every gamer’s dreams of becoming a formless, quivering mass of repulsive goop. They unleashed The Ooze in 1995.
The game is at its most entertaining when you’re slithering through cramped areas and Dr. Caine’s form assumes the shape of its surroundings.
The game kicks off with a simple cutscene detailing the dramatic story of how the titular ooze came to be. A scientist known as Dr. D. Caine uncovers a plot at a chemical plant involving an evil corporation unleashing a toxic gas amongst the populace and then making a killing selling the serum that cures its effects. Shocked and ashamed, as Dr. Caine was the one who invented the gas, our hero tries to put a stop to the corporation’s nefarious plans, only to be captured, injected with gunk, and disposed of with the rest of the sludge. The bad news for the bad guys is that Dr. Caine survived, gained a new, goopy form, and is out to stop their schemes and regain his humanity.
This schlocky set-up results in a top-down action adventure in which players are responsible for guiding the puddle that was Dr. Caine through a variety of levels, slapping various enemies with extendible, gooey tendrils, and utilising goop-spitting attacks to clear the way. As the ooze comes into contact with environmental hazards or enemy attacks the puddle will shrink in size, with Dr. Caine’s adventure coming to an untimely, slithery end if the puddle gets too small or his goopy head takes too many hits.
Dr. Caine’s fate is actually pretty brutal when you think about it.
Alas, controlling this bilious mass is a mixed bag. While it’s fairly satisfying to slither around and squeeze our slippery hero through gaps and around terrain, the choppy animation and lack of visual clarity as to Dr. Caine’s status do detract from the overall experience. It can be difficult to tell just how close our oozy hero is to expiration, resulting in some surprising game overs, and discouraging use of Caine’s slime spit attack as it takes away from his sludge reserves.
When it comes to presentation, The Ooze isn’t one of the Mega Drive’s finest. Sega Technical Institute, an American branch of the Japanese giant, were also responsible for Sonic the Hedgehog Spinball, and some similarities in the music and visual style are apparent, but that game is much more aesthetically and aurally memorable than this one. If The Ooze looked and sounded more like Sonic Spinball’s toxic caves opening level, it might have lingered longer in the minds and hearts of gamers, but it was not to be. Instead, The Ooze is a little bland visually and, in the earlier stages at least, looks strangely reminiscent of Bitmap Brothers’, The Chaos Engine, although less coherent in its artistic vision.
The Ooze got a fairly negative reception upon release, but this seems a little unfair. It’s an interesting game that’s entirely unique on the console. Moving the goopy protagonist around the stages is fun in its own way, and slurping up goop dropped by enemies to further bolster our hero’s mucilaginous form is a satisfying mechanic. The team at Sega Technical Institute had some great ideas, and for the most part, they implemented them well, but it just needed some additional polish and personality to take it to that next level of quality.
The game is actually kind of hard. You might find it easy though, being such an expert and everything.
It’s a tad expensive to pick up a complete copy nowadays, but if you do find the concept interesting and can play The Ooze through other means, I recommend giving it a go. You should at least have a decent amount of fun enveloping the minions of the evil corporation in your slithering, overwhelming, coagulated, quivering folds. That’ll show ’em ooze boss.
This article was written for a now-defunct Sega magazine and never used. Played on Mega Drive via emulation.
Developed by Polymorph Games and reaching full release on 31st January 2025, Foundationis a laid-back city-builder with a peaceful, pastel tone and a light-hearted approach. The game launched into early access on 1st February 2019 and, according to my Steam purchase history, I picked it up in March of 2019. It wasn’t much of a game back then – the UI was an ugly mess, the graphics were super-basic, the tech trees were incomplete, and much of the gameplay was totally unrefined. That’s the nature of early access, and it’s not something I mess with often, but something possessed me back in those care-free, pre-pandemic days, and now that the game is finally out, I definitely don’t regret buying it.
The main thing that Foundation does to differentiate itself from similar city-builders is its organic building placement. There’s no grid system, and the player doesn’t place roads, with paths occurring naturally on regularly used thoroughfares, just like the classic Settlers games. You can place any building absolutely anywhere inside your territory and your villagers will react accordingly once they’ve been assigned to the jobs there. Residential buildings are zoned rather than placed directly, with players using a paintbrush tool to highlight areas where the villagers can build their houses, and this same tool is used to highlight which resources should be extracted and even which areas your villagers aren’t allowed to tread.
Did you ever play with plastic farm animals and fences when you were a kid? This is that, but digitally.
Certain buildings are heavily customisable, from churches to inns to castles, and even the lord’s manor. When planning such works of architectural wonder, you’ll be selecting from various rooms, entrances, wings and decorations until you’ve got the layout you like, and once things are finalised your builders will get to work – if they’re not buying berries from the local market or sitting around on a bench, that is. The decorations will tend to increase your settlement’s “splendor” in one of three categories; labour, kingdom, and clergy, which will unlock new levels of building in these categories. Labour tends to encompass your market and your lord’s manor, clergy goes towards churches and monasteries, and kingdom grants you the ability to fortify your settlement and build watchtowers and castles. Fully upgrading these majestic works tend to be your end goal, and depending on whether you’re feeling regal, religious, or like a man of the people, you can choose an appropriate goal at the start of the game, or just do whatever you want and treat the whole thing like a big, medieval sandbox.
Foundation strikes an addictive balance between keeping things relaxing while still providing moderately challenging resource chains and progression requirements to get to grips with. It’s not difficult to get high level residential areas in your growing town, but it’ll take some time and provide you plenty to think about along the way. You might even need to partake in a bit of forward planning.
The higher-level residential buildings require nearby beautification, paved roads, and more. Fussy, these posh types.
The game’s visuals match its laid-back vibe, with cartoony villagers and brightly-coloured houses all nestled into a cosy, storybook countryside. At times, especially once I started to surround my settlement with a lovely palisade fence, Foundation’s visuals really took me back to my childhood days of lying on the sofa reading Asterix comics, and that’s a good thing. At the time of writing there is no day/night cycle, but you can manually change the visual ambience from daylight to rainy to night-time and to sunset, just in case you want to imagine the diminutive Gaul and his pals enjoying a lavish victory banquet under the setting sun right there in your village. There are enough boars in the forests to keep Obelix busy, that’s for sure.
While Foundation does enable you to build castles, erect defensive walls, and enlist soldiers, there is no combat in the game (again, at the time of writing), with soldiers instead sent out on missions, earning your settlement reputation and occasionally bringing back spoils. Your villagers will also appreciate feeling secure, with a decent level of local fortifications and patrols being prerequisites for higher density housing. If you want actual fighting, though, you’re probably better off with Manor Lords.
“If you find yourself riding alone through green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in Elysium, and you’re already dead!”
Incidentally, the mighty Manor Lords, still in early access at the time of writing, is another game that I bought before its full release. While the two games go for completely different visual styles, and Foundation doesn’t seem to concern itself too much with historical accuracy, the two games have very similar mechanics. It’s not exactly fair to compare a game that’s fully released with a game that’s still in early access, but I will say that I enjoy Foundation more than I enjoy Manor Lords for now. Obviously, this could change drastically, but as things stand, I’d heartily recommend Foundation for those who’re still finding Manor Lords a bit short on content and goals, and don’t mind some cartoony visuals in lieu of Manor Lords’ historically accurate buildings and gorgeous rolling hills that look exactly like the views from nearby beauty spots here in sunny Somerset.
Foundation doesn’t go for this kind of realism, but if you like the idea of an organically growing cartoon village, customisable buildings and monuments, and a low-pressure, relaxing sandbox to lord over your bright-eyed little medieval peasants in, then you should definitely give it a try. It’s easy to pick up and quite difficult to put down. The gradual progress is addictive and the constant balancing act of keeping your villagers happy and your supply lines running makes it far too easy to just keep playing, even if you really need to be cooking dinner or picking up the child from her youth club or whatever. Yes, I am speaking from personal experience.
A sprawling monastery overlooks a developing town, and in the distance, the beginnings of a mighty fortress stand atop a hill.
If you remember playing the classic Settlers games, and occasionally miss its light-hearted, addictive style (and the way the roads and paths appear organically), then Foundation will definitely scratch that itch. If not, then give it a try anyway, you might find yourself fascinated by your organically growing medieval settlement, and become enthralled in the act of creating a beautiful little ancient Gaulish village of your own. Watch out for Romans, though, okay?
I don’t feel all that qualified to assess Drainus. I really like a good shoot-’em-up, and have lots of respect and nostalgia for the genre, but I’m actually shockingly bad at them. Whether I was begging my parents for change just to instantly get shot down on the 1942 arcade machine they had at a local pub, or never getting past the first level on the likes of Hellfire and Thunderforce II on the Mega Drive, I don’t exactly have the skill-set to excel at anything resembling “bullet hell”.
Drainus is fucking cool, though. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that title obviously doesn’t come across very well to a native English speaker, but everything else about the game is about as close to perfect as a shoot-’em-up can get.
In Drainus, which was initially released in 2022 and developed by Team Ladybug (who also developed one of my game diary subjects, Record of Lodoss War: Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth), players take on the role of Irina, a young lady with a strong sense of justice and a haircut that made me think she was a boy. She’s an excellent pilot, and she’s been hiding out from an evil space empire while trying to find a cure for her extremely sick “daddy”.
It’s probably not hardcore enough to be called Bullet Hell by real genre aficionados. Bullet Heck, maybe?
She’s accompanied by a time-travelling “humanoid” pilot called Ghenie, who looks like something in between Slippy Toad and the drummer from Interstella 5555, and between the two of them they have to fight through the Kharlal Empire’s humongous fleet of deadly weaponry, tie up nasty time paradoxes, and deal with Irina’s sister, Layla, who happens to be second-in-command of the Empire’s forces (and yes, even though she’s clearly older and more together, she refers to their dad as “daddy”, too).
Luckily, thanks to Ghenie, Irina has found herself in the pilot seat of a “Drainus”, an advanced experimental craft that can adsorb energy from light-based weapons and unleash it upon the enemy in the form of a powerful homing attack. This ability, on top of presumably being responsible for the game’s unfortunate title, provides Drainus‘ unique twist – a mechanic that allows players to absorb certain types of attack in a similar vein to Ikaruga, and also to take the offensive in interesting ways.
The beam absorption mechanic in action.
This results in gameplay that encourages a daring play-style. In order to get the upper hand against the swarms of basic enemies, challenging mini-bosses and overwhelming stage bosses, players will have to suck up otherwise devastating beam attacks and unleash them at the right time, taking chunks out of the health bars of hard-to-reach enemies.
There’s also a question of timing, as you can’t just fly your Drainus around without a care in the world, sucking up all of the enemy projectiles willy-nilly. Hold down the button for too long and the ship’s energy absorbing apparatus will fail, leaving you vulnerable while it charges up again. Also, you can’t suck up physical projectiles (handily highlighted with a red outline), so constant vigilance is required.
Throughout the game, players will be collecting power that can be spent at any time in the game’s menu to upgrade their ride’s weapons and other systems, meaning that there’s plenty of different ways to customise your gameplay. You can even upgrade your energy absorption bar, meaning you’ll be able to hold down the button and tank that super-boss’ screen-filling beam weapon for even longer. It’ll make you feel powerful, but you’ll need all that power to take on the rapidly-escalating threat of the legions of bosses, synchronised enemy fleets, and stage obstacles that the game will throw at you.
I actually found myself fairly interested in the story, too, and was invested in how Irina and Layla’s relationship would develop. There’s even a bit of a fake-out ending, and the game handles its time-travel story in a way that keeps things interesting until the very end. That’s coming from someone who has a major aversion to time-travel stories outside the first two Terminator flicks.
Another possible explanation for the game’s unattractive name is that the developers might have wanted it to sound a bit like Darius or Gradius.
The game also lets you continue as much as you want, even saving your progress through a level when you pick it up and try again, and this is the only reason I was capable of finishing the campaign. I got shot down my fair share of times, but I still felt like some kind of badass, bullet hell pro when I saw those credits roll, and I came back for more, too. There are also unlockable difficulty levels and an arcade mode for those looking to prove themselves in the pilot’s seat.
On top of all of its accoutrements and imaginative gameplay elements, though, Drainus manages to do the basic stuff perfectly. The game looks fantastic, the controls are crisp and poised to perfection (the whole thing looks and plays superbly using the Switch’s handheld mode), and the music is toe-tapping throughout.
My favourite power-ups are the ones that attach a formation of blaster-equipped pods to your ship.
I imported the physical Switch version of Drainus based on the fact that I wanted a nice shoot-’em-up on the console and that I’d heard some good things here and there. I’m really glad I did, as Drainus has proven to be yet another prize specimen indie title in my physical Switch collection. With this and Record of Lodoss War: Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth in the bag, Team Ladybug are now two for two on exemplary games that get an emphatic thumbs up from me.
Wait, are Team Ladybug the new Treasure? Drainus certainly feels like a 2D classic in the vein of Treasure’s legendary output, but maybe it’s a little hasty to compare the two just yet. I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on what the ladybugs get up to in the future, though. When they’re not sitting around on leaves eating aphids, that is.
If there’s one thing that Atari’s block-bashing 1976 arcade hit, Breakout, needed to make it a little bit more eye-catching, it was a sinister sprinkling of ghosts, ghouls, demons, and other monstrosities. Japanese software developer, Genki, thought so anyway, and came up with Devilish for the Game Gear, an unholy take on the paddle-based, ball bouncing, Breakout formula.
Before we get into the gameplay, though, let’s take a look at exactly why a pair of elegant-looking paddles are bopping a mystical ball around a selection of menacing locations. The legend goes that a prince and a princess were in love, and a jealous demon turned them into a pair of stone paddles. That’s the first thing the demon thought of, apparently. Not frogs. Not statues. Paddles.
The boss fights take place against a plain, black background – as was the tradition at the time.
Unfortunately for said demon, a mystical and mysterious ball came into existence that the paddle-prince and paddle-princess could use to absolutely batter the demon’s minions and fortifications, Odama-style. This all results in a pair of stony sovereigns bashing a beautiful blue ball into blocks, bricks, bad guys and boogeymen, all in the name of love.
The game takes place across six scrolling stages, with players able to select from a number of paddle configurations and move the top paddle higher or lower into the screen. The aim is to reach the end of the stage within a strict time limit, with points awarded for blocks broken and monsters flattened.
It’s a fun idea and a nice, occult take on the Breakout formula which is ideal for handheld gaming. It can occasionally feel frustrating, with the bouncing physics often hard to predict, and certain enemies and obstacles seemingly designed to get under your skin with their time-wasting bullshit, but when you get it right and bust through vast sections of a stage with ease, it can feel pretty satisfying.
The guy in the hat makes the other zombies dance. It’s probably referencing some obscure ’90s thing…
The time limits for each stage are very tight, and with only six stages and many sub-two minute target times, a full play through of this demonic adventure will take you less than a quarter of an hour, once you’ve mastered the gameplay, that is.
Short life-span aside, Devilsh is an entertaining Breakout clone with a liberal dose of blasphemous imagery mixed in for good measure, and high score-chasers will have a rollicking time flinging their paddles about with righteous, ball-blasting fury. Be a bit careful with them, though. They’re royalty, remember.
Sinister Sequel
If roughly fifteen minutes of demonic paddle-spanking isn’t enough for you, there is more to be found out there if you’re willing to enter the shadowy realms of importing, console modding, or emulation. Known as Bad Omen in Japan and Devilish: The Next Possession in America, this fiendish follow-up was developed by Aisystem Tokyo, and reuses the plot and gameplay of the original, sprucing up the visuals, adding multiplayer, and drawing out the length a bit.
It’s more of the same but bigger and better (and with a pretty badass front cover, too), but us here in Europe were deemed unworthy, and the pair of monarchical paddles never landed on our fair shores. Not releasing the cool, fiendish sequel in Europe? That’s a paddlin’.
The 16-bit sequel is even more metal.
This article was written for a now-defunct Sega magazine and never used. Played on Game Gear via emulation.
Despite not being a “boomer” (I’m D-Generation X, baby), I’m quite fond of Boomer Shooters. Anything that reminds me of simpler times blasting away on the likes of Duke Nukem 3D and Hexen on my Sega Saturn is going to have a decent shot at earning my affections. Also, I like that they don’t tend to be too much of a time commitment, and can make for a straightforward and violent palette cleanser between lengthy RPGs or modern cinematic action games that demand lots of hours and dedication.
These days, I tend to try to be a physical-only gamer, as I enjoy feeding the shelves in the rumpus room almost as much as I enjoy playing a good video game, and in the last few years I’ve finished the (as far as I’m aware) only three Boomer Shooters that you can buy physically for the Nintendo Switch: Ion Fury, Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun, and now, finally, Prodeus.
You’ll be mowing down so many minions of Chaos you’ll think you were playing Space Marine 2! (I completed that, too, by the way)
I didn’t write about the first two games so I’ll very briefly sum up my opinions on them here. Ion Fury is a fantastic Duke Nukem 3D love-letter that has been tastefully modernised in all the right places, and Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun is a satisfying blast through the endless minions of Nurgle and Tzeentch that often pushes Nintendo’s ageing HDMI-enabled tablet beyond breaking point when it comes to framerate.
That leaves Prodeus, which I purchased sometime in 2024 and finally got around to playing in January of 2025. The game was developed by Bounding Box Software and was the result of a successful Kickstarter campaign. It offers multiplayer content as well as a single player mode, but I don’t dabble with multiplayer these days. I like my peace and quiet, you know? This will be a review of the campaign only.
The plot of Prodeus is purposefully left fairly ambiguous. From what I can fathom from the pre-stage descriptions, the game takes place on an asteroid that’s being mined for fuel (and possibly artefacts) and two opposing, interdimensional forces have converged on said asteroid to enact some kind of cosmic war. These two forces are Chaos, who have a demonic vibe and can apparently turn human soldiers into Doom-style zombies, and Prodeus, who are technologically advanced entities of light who can wrest control of Chaos’ demonic units, turning them into upgraded, blue-tinted versions of themselves.
As for the protagonist? Well, it’s hard to tell. There’s an opening sequence where they get killed horribly and then awoken in some kind of tank, and in-game text occasionally refers to them as a “Vessel”, but that’s about all you’ve got to go on. The Doom-style portrait at the bottom of the screen (that appears more skull-like as you take damage), has a cybernetically-enhanced super-soldier aesthetic, so maybe they’re some kind of Prodeus experiment that went rogue, but it’s all a bit vague. The setting is compelling enough, though, and you won’t be thinking too hard about the nuances of character development when you’re blasting something’s face off with four concurrent super shotgun shells.
Which one is the Keymaster and which one is the Gatekeeper?
All of the guns in Prodeus are great, and the game starts you off simple with a very satisfying pistol. All of the usable weapons are split across five different types of ammo, and each ammo type will feed every weapon in that class. These are bullets, shells, rockets, energy and chaos, and the different guns in the various classes all do a fine job of staying relevant as you unlock new implements of destruction. Even weapons that you’d think would be very similar or just straight upgrades, like the shotgun and the super shotgun, are different enough to drastically change gameplay. The shotgun fires more shells before needing to reload and has a secondary mode that’s a bit more effective at range, while the super shotgun can fire all four loaded shells in a satisfying blast that’ll leave all but the most elite enemy types with a severe case of bloody dismemberment.
Speaking of which, the blood effects are on point, too, with enemies exploding very satisfyingly and painting floors and walls in a tasteful shade of crimson. If a baddie pops in a tight enough space its insides will even cover the ceiling, and this results in a generous period of dripping gore, giving the game a very violent and visceral air.
Even when they’re not covered in copious helpings of tomato sauce, Prodeus’ environments look great. The visuals are purposefully very pixelated (although it looks less so in motion than the screenshots would have you believe), but the game still has a sleek feel with heaps of atmosphere. Many of the locations are quite alien and abstract, especially once you enter the Prodeus dimension, and the whole thing is built on a very dark base colour scheme with orange or blue highlights depending on whether Prodeus or Chaos are in the ascendancy at that point in the campaign. The game could be accused of looking quite samey, but a couple of highlights, like the Space Station or the dark, rainy ocean environment in the Trench level, do manage to provide some memorable focal points along the way.
As for the gameplay; it’s extremely solid. The controls are crisp and responsive, I only noticed two sections where the framerate took a noticeable hit, and the enemy variety keeps things interesting right through to the end of the game, in part thanks to the more-powerful Prodeus-controlled versions of Chaos enemies that appear later on. While most levels consist of moving through environments, locating the odd key card, and taking out groups of enemies as you go, some stages are straight up arenas that throw enemy waves of ascending difficulty at you, just to keep things spicy. The aforementioned key card hunting doesn’t overstay its welcome either, and serves as a nice throwback to similar mechanics in the games Prodeus is so clearly influenced by.
The Prodeus campaign is a dark and dismal, viscera-soaked treat for fans of old-school FPS action, and the “boomer shooter” style gameplay is spot on. There are plenty of difficulty levels to dabble with, depending on whether you want to barely survive each encounter as a wounded, bloody wreck, or feel like an invincible god-warrior who effortlessly leaves a gory wake of destruction in their path. The locations are grimy, intimidating, and occasionally awe-inspiring, and the music, while not necessarily all that memorable, provides a fine accompaniment to the flying bullets, plasma, and Chaos energy.
The environments get quite a bit more ominous as you progress.
Where would I rate it alongside Ion Fury and Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun, you ask? Well, that’s a tough one. For thrills and personality, I’d rank it just below Ion Fury, but then, Duke Nukem 3D was the shooter I jammed with the most when I was but an eager young gamer. I’d probably say Prodeus plays a little better than Boltgun, though, just feeling that little bit crisper and clearer, although the fact that I played both games on the Switch could be affecting that decision.
Still, they’re all winners in my eyes, and that’s the important thing. Now I’m just waiting for that perfect modern re-imagining of Hexen to come out physically on the Switch. I heard Graven turned out to be a bit of a let-down though. Shame, that.
Can’t Afford the Exterminators? Send in the Clowns.
Hey, kids! Remember when Krusty the Clown was just Homer Simpson with funny hair and a red nose? No? Well, playing Krusty’s Super Fun House for the Mega Drive will probably jog your memory. In this platformer-puzzler, you’ll play as the titular troubadour as he collects pick-ups, opens doors, leaps from platform to platform, and herds dumb rodents to their cruel and brutal fates. Imagine Lemmings, but in reverse; instead of trying to save the conga-line of critters, you’re attempting to lead them to their untimely demise for the sake of a rodent-free fun house. No one likes rats in their fun house.
Is flattening the rats with a comically oversized boxing glove really the best idea they could come up with? Bart and Krusty, I mean, not the developers.
Players control Krusty directly, his cutesy, deformed sprite sporting a lolling, open-mouthed, buffoonish grin. Krusty circa 1992 is a far cry from the hard drinking, hard gambling, chain-smoking malcontent we know and love today, and players must guide this wholesome version of Krusty around increasingly complex levels, finding collectibles, fending off enemies, and redirecting rodents. Every single rat needs to be mercilessly splattered before Krusty can exit the level and move on, with hidden areas generally containing random pick-ups that contribute to a superfluous-feeling points tally.
The actual vermin-guiding is achieved by finding moveable blocks and placing them around the levels. The rats can step over a single block, but will reverse direction if they hit anything that’s two blocks or higher. Using this information, and the various fans, pipes, and other such paraphernalia scattered about the fun house’s funtastic hallways, players can apply their clever clown brains to place blocks in the correct place so that the rats resume their inexorable march to doom. Things can get quite tricky, with solutions often requiring lateral thinking, extensive trial and error, and quick wits, if the rats are to be located and directed before they can permanently evade capture.
The rat-catching gameplay is fine, but Krusty’s Super Fun House is filled with a lot of unnecessary fluff. The enemies seem mostly redundant and randomly placed, and the stages are almost all far larger than they need to be. Each stage will have a section designed to funnel the rats around, and then an often vast swathe of nondescript back-rooms to explore with no compelling motive.
What part of the Fun House is this? The unnecessary and nonsensical part, that’s what.
The rodent herding is cool, the graphics are okay, and the fun, old-school Simpsons vibe is part of our shared social history, but Krusty’s Super Fun House just ends up feeling a little bit empty. Maybe a lodger will help the place feel more lived in – I heard Sideshow Bob is looking for a place to stay again.
Paint It Yellow
Krusty’s Fun House was released on multiple formats (with the 16-bit iterations adding the “Super” to the title), but it’s actually a reskin of an Amiga game called Rat-Trap, in which a pink-haired fellow places blocks to guide rats into rat-catching machines. Audiogenic, the original developer, took Rat-Trap and gave it the Groening treatment, adding Simpsons-themed posters, replacing the nondescript, pink-haired youth with Krusty, and redesigning the rats to look a bit more like they’d fit in among the alleyways and drainpipes of Springfield.
This article was written for a printed Sega magazine but never used. Played on Mega Drive
A modern remake of a “Nintendo hard” NES game that I’d never even heard of? No, it’s okay, I’ll leave it, thanks. What’s that? It’s got gorgeous, pixelated sci-fi cityscape backgrounds and super cool modern re-imaginings of ’90s ninjas and robotic enemies? Alright, you twisted my arm.
Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn, developed by Tengo Project, is a modern remake of the NES title Shadow of the Ninja, known as Blue Shadow here in Europe. It features two ninjas of the Iga clan, Hayate and Kaede, as they navigate six distinct stages in a direct attempt on the life of the evil Emperor Garuda, whose forces have taken over the United States of America.
There’s a bit of Contra in there, a sprinkling of The Ninja Warriors, and perhaps a slight bouquet of Metal Slug.
This re-imagining updates the visuals in bombastic style, with chunky sprites filled with personality, a grimy tech aesthetic juxtaposed with neon lights and splashed with delightfully garish, luminous colours, and fluid animation bringing bosses and set-pieces to life.
It’s a gorgeous-looking game, but you won’t have much time to take in the sights, as beyond a couple of basic grunt-type enemies, most of the mechs, monsters and mooks you’ll face are perfectly equipped to catch out sightseers and careless wanderers. Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is challenging, and I can see how the original might have been a very tough nut to crack. This remake allows players to continue indefinitely from the last stage reached, but most areas still took me a lot of tries to get through, and the bosses take the difficulty up another few notches, forcing the recognition and memorisation of some devious attack patterns.
Both Hayate and Kaede control exactly the same, and can attack, crouch, jump, and attach themselves to walls and ceilings, flipping up onto higher platforms if the terrain allows. They both start off with a katana (that can be powered up to launch projectiles) and a kusarigama, which is basically a blade on a chain. The kusarigama packs a punch and can attack at range, but its longer attack animation will leave its wielder vulnerable and, unlike the katana, it cannot deflect enemy projectiles. As the game progresses, it becomes necessary to fully understand the strengths and limitations of each weapon to succeed, and knowing which attack to use and when so as not to leave yourself vulnerable to counter-attack is the key to success.
The heads fly off of these cute little laser horses when they take damage, resulting in a flying head drone and some charging, disembodied legs to deal with.
Successful players will also have to master jumping, as Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn features a few fiddly jumps here and there. The jump button has a slight delay, and this has led me to more than a few health-sapping plummets into nothingness. Luckily, falling off the screen isn’t an instant death, but the jumping is the most unsatisfying part of the game for me, and I feel like it could have been a lot smoother. The ninjas also have the ability to momentarily hover, and this is activated by pressing down and holding the jump button, which was a little too fiddly for an old and decrepit gamer like me at first. It all clicks into place eventually, but not before more than a few frustratingly missed ledges.
The “ninja gear” mechanic adds another element to the game. Throughout each stage crates will regularly hide limited-use weapons – including firebombs, larger swords, and even guns – that can be kept in a limited inventory and brought into action when they’re needed. There is a system where players can purchase unlocked items of gear to start the game with, which is definitely helpful in certain situations, but this starting gear is lost upon death, so if you’re having trouble with, say, the fourth stage boss, and purchased some gear you thought might help you with it, you better hope you get there without continuing.
If you repeatedly die on a certain stage, Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn will start to take pity on you, packing extra health-restoring goodies in your inventory like a proud ninja mum. I have no shame in admitting that I made use of these pity dumplings on numerous occasions. I did find myself getting better at the game, however, and was breezing through the formerly-difficult early stages upon a second play-through. The later areas could still be a bitch, though.
There’s also a two-player co-op mode, which I imagine is great, but I haven’t talked the daughter into trying that out with me yet.
This boss was really tough until I realised I could bash it in the head with a sword. It … wasn’t clear at first, okay?
Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is a great retro platformer-action game with fantastic visuals and satisfying combat, that’s let down slightly by some occasionally fiddly jumping. It’s a stern test of reflexes, pattern memorisation, and patience, but if you think you’ve got the ninja skills, then I’d highly recommend taking a trip through this extremely dangerous neon metropolis.
A Duck Pretending to be a Duck Pretending to be Another Duck
This is the second and last review I wrote for Sega Mania Issue 8, and as such is written from a 90’s perspective. This one had a couple of boxouts as well, which I’ve presented as best I can with any knowledge as to how to do layout properly.
Donald’s back, put possibly not quite how you remember him. Eschewing his usual, fashionably questionable sailor outfit, he’s arrived for his next action-packed platformer in a much more agreeable Hawaiian shirt and cap ensemble. That’s right, this is Maui Mallard, Donald Duck’s medium-boiled, crime-fighting alter-ego. The identity swapping doesn’t stop there, either. Maui Mallard has an alter-ego of his own. Cold Shadow is a black-clad ninja, a master of bo staff combat, and a proponent of nimbly leaping up narrow shafts. This explains the confusing situation of the game’s alternative title, Maui Mallard in Cold Shadow. Really, if we’re being accurate here, the game should be called Donald Duck in Maui Mallard in Cold Shadow, but I guess they would have run out of space on the spine. Whichever way you look at it, you’re going three-deep in Donald Duck personalities during the ninja sections, which is an experience in itself regardless of how good the game actually is.
Luckily, the game is really good. Donald in Maui Mallard is a platformer in the same vein as the cantankerous mallard’s previous Mega Drive escapades. However, Donald seems to have been doing some cross-fit training since the QuackShot days, as he has a much sleeker sprite, moves much faster, and controls a little bit looser. Where QuackShot (and indeed the Illusion series of Disney platformers) had a very considered pace with tight controls and forgiving platforming. Donald in Maui Mallard has a much more frantic feel, with enemies coming from all angles, more haphazard jumping controls, and platforms whose edges aren’t always clearly identifiable.
This screams Aladdin to me. You know, apart from with a ninja duck. There were no ninja ducks in Aladdin. Just an angry parrot.
In this way, it feels like it inhabits the lane between the “traditional” Disney platformers like the Illusion series, and the more modern Disney platformers based on the big, box office movies such as Aladdin and Lion King. This crossover can be seen in the art-style and the gameplay, as well as the mild jump in difficulty, and it could well be exactly what many Mega Drive owners are looking for.
Leaving his plunger gun at home, Donald as Maui is armed with a bug-launcher that fires insects that can be collected throughout the stages. The basic ammo has a fairly short range and takes a few shots to defeat most enemies, but upgraded invertebrates can be collected and even combined to form powerful, boss-bothering bullets or handy homing projectiles. The enemy designs are imaginative and in-fitting with the tropical, voodoo vibe, ranging from juicy-looking spiders to wild natives to zombie ducks. Maui has plenty of health to survive numerous enemy encounters, and there is a generous sprinkling of health-restoring power-ups to be found throughout the stages, but this generosity is offset by some devious level design and a fair few tricky platforming sections suspended over instant-death drops.
From the second stage onwards, Donald as Maui can take on the form of Cold Shadow. This feathered ninja warrior can take out most enemies with one thwack of his stick, and is a lot more manoeuvrable with a plethora of staff-based options to traverse the expansive levels in interesting ways. He can attach himself to various outcroppings and swing to higher platforms, and can wedge his stick in narrow shafts to gain the leverage he needs to leap higher. For the most part, you’ll want to play as Cold Shadow as much as you can, but there are times when Maui Mallard’s ranged attacks and bungee jumping abilities are preferable (or even necessary). In order to stay in his Cold Shadow form, Donald must collect symbols to stop a meter from ticking down. Luckily, these collectibles tend to respawn near tricky jumps that require Cold Shadow’s specific skills to negotiate, so you’ll never find yourself in a situation where you’re unable to progress, even if it can occasionally feel that way.
Both the Maui and Cold Shadow sprites are smooth and full of character, and have plenty of amusing idle animations to entertain you while you’re having a breather. The environment graphics are top notch, too, with sinister voodoo mansions, clandestine ninja hideouts and savage, moonlit savannahs all looking suitably atmospheric. The game has a dark and mysterious ambience, with later levels even taking on a bit of a Lovecraftian vibe, consisting of maddening death-worlds with bizarre architecture and gigantic, floating eyeballs. It’s not the kind of location you’d expect to be exploring in a Disney title, but I guess kids have to face up to the concept of hell dimensions at some point.
That’s right children, it’s always watching.
The music befits the tropical and occasionally occult vibe, usually taking the form of ambient accompaniment in lieu of catchy tunes that you’ll be whistling while you take the dog for a walk. Most of the tracks feature a pleasing and thematic beat to match the game’s quick and occasionally frantic pace, and you’ll probably find that your toes are tapping throughout. You’ll also hear plenty of sampled martial arts cries and grunts, artfully representing Donald’s new-found ninja skills.
As a platforming experience, Donald in Maui Mallard gets the basics right, and then takes you on a weird and wild journey of new ideas and unusual themes. Donald’s two distinct personalities offer different gameplay styles, and the levels that allow you to jump between the ninja and detective personas give you the freedom to take on enemies and obstacles however you please. The boss fights provide another layer of variety. Whether you’re unloading special bug ammo into the metallic spider boss of the first stage, or battering a floating lava-duck head around with your bo staff in the volcano level, the bosses are wacky, unique and appropriately challenging.
Remember Darkwing Duck? What about Count Duckula? Hey, remember that penguin from Wallace and Gromit?
The game isn’t without its frustrations. Platforming sections can occasionally be fiddly and unsatisfying, and there are moments when the way forward is unclear, but on the whole the challenge is well balanced between being accessible to kids and newbies and giving platforming pros and gaming veterans something to think about for a week or so. Donald in Maui Mallard feels like a modern Disney game. Whereas QuackShot was like playing an episode of Duck Tales and The Lucky Dime Caper was reminiscent of classic Donald cartoons or comic strips, the animation style and dark undertones on offer here exude that new and edgy ’90s style. It’s not quite as comfortable as the previous Disney mascot titles, but it’s not trying to be. This one is trying to get your heart pounding and act as your gateway to the concepts of dark magic, the risen dead and tribal sacrificial practices, rather than take you on a wistfully whimsical journey through wistful whimsy.
Donald in Maui Mallard is a glimpse into Disney’s darker side, but more importantly, it’s a very competent platformer with loads of personality. It won’t replace the likes of QuackShot and World of Illusion in my heart, but it will definitely sit proudly alongside them on my shelf. I suggest you find a place for it on yours.
Donald, P.I.
I mentioned in the main part of the review that Donald in Maui Mallard is a very modern-feeling Disney title, but there’s a hefty dose of the 1980s mixed in that makes that claim come across as a little tenuous. Maui Mallard, self-described “medium boiled” detective, is this game’s take on Tom Selleck’s Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV, the lead character in ’80s detective thriller series Magnum, P.I.
The similarities are plain to see – both are pistol-toting, Hawaiian-shirted heroes with action star qualities and effortless cool. Donald doesn’t have a well-groomed, bristly decoration on his upper lip, though, and I haven’t seen much evidence of him being a Vietnam vet either. Still, at least he can turn into a ninja at a moment’s notice and start cracking skulls with his bo staff. I don’t believe Mr. Selleck ever donned a headband and started performing ninjutsu techniques throughout the tropical beaches and bamboo forests of Hawaii. At least, I don’t think he did, but maybe I missed a few episodes.
Tick, Tick, Shabuhm
“So what’s Donald got himself involved with this time?” I hear you ask. Well, there’s a witchdoctor, you see, and he’s stolen the idol of Shabuhm Shabuhm from a tropical island. This idol is considered to be the island’s guardian spirit, and Donald as Maui as (occasionally) Cold Shadow needs to get it back. Our hero must track the nefarious shaman through the various locales of the island while winning over the natives and even taking a trip to the underworld, before coming face to face with the masked meddler and engaging in a climactic showdown.
The thing is, when you do finally meet the witchdoctor and find out what’s going on under that creepy tribal mask, it’s only going to cause more questions. I won’t completely spoil it, but let’s just say that this guy epitomises the term “air-headed”. That’s some bad mojo right there.
I hope you enjoyed this little look into what might have been if Sega Mania Magazine had kept going. I did actually start writing one more review, but I never finished it. It was on a Sega Saturn game called Robotica Cybernation Revolt, but I only wrote a snazzy, cyberpunk-style intro and never got into the review proper, mainly because I hadn’t played the game yet! Maybe I will one day…
This review was written for Issue 8 of the sadly now defunct Sega Mania Magazine, as such it is written from a ’90s perspective.
Does anyone actually like the circus? I mean, I’m sure they were great in the olden times, when the only other forms of entertainment were gathering around the wireless or playing with a hoop and a stick, but do we really need them here in the futuristic ’90s? We have television, spectator sports and video games, bars and nightclubs, Pogs and Slinkies. I for one think that it’s time for circuses to go. The animals don’t want to be there, I question the motives and mental capacity of anyone who chooses to be a clown, and acrobats can use their impressive suppleness and contortionist abilities elsewhere. Maybe they can perform elaborate robberies or something.
Aero the Acro-bat for the Mega Drive has an unavoidable big top vibe, with the titular Aero being the game’s protagonist and the star of the in-game show. A villainous industrialist named Edgar Ektor has sabotaged the World of Amusement Circus and Funpark, and has kidnapped all of its performers, replacing them with nefarious, evil clowns and other such appropriately-themed bad guys. It’s fallen upon Aero to use his high-flying skills and acrobatic feats to save the day, rescue his girlfriend Aeriel, and put a stop to Ektor’s machinations. This includes taking care of Ektor’s lead henchman, a certain Zero the Kamikaze Squirrel.
Aero is contemplating the tiny, one-hit-kill spikes that infest every stage. Can you see it?
If you’ve seen Aero the Acro-bat before, you’ll know that he represents yet another developer having a dip into the “critters with ‘tude” well. This time it’s Sunsoft who have their straws out, attempting to slurp up some of Sonic’s lucrative success water. Have they backed a winner with this Chiropteran tumbler? I’m not so sure. The designers doubled down on the mean and cool attitude and forgot to add any charm or charisma. Also, he’s a circus performer, which means I immediately question his moral and social ideals.
Initial impressions paint Aero the Acro-bat as a fairly standard platformer, and it feels a little dated compared to some of the platformers that have appeared in recent years. Aero himself is somewhat stiff to control, and he commits that platformer hero sin of not being able to stop quickly, which can result in some aggravating slides into certain doom. The stages, while colourful, seem fairly lifeless, with levels that don’t evolve as you progress and forgettable enemy designs. There is some stage variety later on, with a few cool gimmicks that are mostly based on fairground rides, but nothing really stands out or sticks with you. Visually, this is closer to James Pond or Krusty’s Super Fun House than it is to Ristar or our iconic hedgehog pal.
A bat in a barrel, rolling past featureless trees and hills.
Mechanically, the level design philosophy seems frustratingly centred on catching the player out with traps that they could not have foreseen. The admittedly-large levels are littered with spikes, and said spikes are small and inconspicuous, and are often found in the most annoying of places. For example, some of the levels ask you to jump on certain platforms, which causes them to disintegrate, and you can be darned sure there are going to be spike pits underneath all of them. There’s a particular spiked pit during act two that you get dumped into immediately after a unicycle tightrope ride, the likes of which have thus far given you no reason to think they’re going to end in certain, spiky doom. This would all be fine if the spikes just made you lose some health, but these barbed bad boys are insta-death, baby.
If you’re a glutton for punishment, have oodles of time to spare, and enjoy memorising massive levels using a process of trial and error that involves lots and lots of dead bat, then you might get a lot of enjoyment out of Aero the Acro-bat, as there is satisfying gameplay to be found once you’ve mastered Aero’s initially-awkward dive attacks and formed your mental map of the levels. It’s a heck of a slog to get there though, and with its forgettable mascot, uninspiring visuals, small sprites and irritating, circus-themed music, you might not want to go through the trouble.
The rollercoaster section is just another memory test.
I can’t help but feel that the game doesn’t want you to have fun. Did you know that bats are the only mammal capable of true, full flight, and are even more nimble and agile when airborne than most birds? Not this one. He can hover for a bit, and can only fly temporarily after collecting a certain power-up. He’s also able to fire star projectiles, but they’re extremely limited, he starts with none, and the pick-ups are located in fiddly places to get to. Enemies are positioned specifically to catch you out, which you could say about your average Sonic the Hedgehog level, but Sonic’s zones are mostly focussed on fun, spectacle, exploration and a satisfying challenge, rather than just aggravating schmuck bait.
The Mega Drive is absolutely stuffed with top quality mascot platformers, and Aero, despite all of his impressive acro-bat-ics, struggles to even trouble the top 20. Perhaps he should go back to shooting soundwaves at unsuspecting moths or sucking blood out of horses. You know, all that bat stuff that real bats do.
I hope this was an enjoyable little extra for any Sega Mania fans out there. I wrote one more review for Issue 8 which I will be posting at a later date, and I may also be uploading some of my favourite reviews from throughout the mag’s seven issue run, so stay tuned!
Alright, so that subtitle is a bit misleading. I didn’t find Xenoblade Chronicles 3 boring (rest assured I would not have stuck with it if I did), I just found it very, very comfy. I’ve already touched on this thought in my other writings that can be found in various corners of the internet, but a good JRPG is like a cosy duvet and a fluffy pillow, pyjamas and slippers and warm milk, and gentle rain pattering on the window. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 has a very long run-time, it has a battle system that, if you’re a bit over-levelled, can require very little input from the player, it has expansive, dream-like landscapes and an otherworldly ambient soundtrack. All of these factors and more combine to make it impossible for me to play this game for more than a couple of hours at a time without drifting off, controller in hand, as my chosen character idles in the middle of a battlefield surrounded by monstrous fauna. It’s alright though, because the rest of the party will take care of them, and the victory fanfare will usually wake me up.
Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a very typical JRPG in some ways, but completely does its own thing in others. The story follows a small group of soldiers under the banner of the nation of Keves, who soon get thrust together with a similar group of soldiers from the opposing nation of Agnus. The world is locked in a seemingly-eternal battle in which opposing sides kill to fill their “flame clocks” with the life energy of their fallen enemies. The people of this world seem to have a ten-year life span, appearing as a young teenager and “ascending” in their twenties, if they survive that long. These ten years of life are dedicated to a mysterious queen, and that’s about all you’ll know for quite some time. There are no traditional RPG towns, almost every settlement you come across is a military base inhabited by personal from one of the two major factions, and almost every NPC you’ll meet is a soldier in the never-ending war.
The battles are very flashy, with spells and effects going off everywhere. I found that the offensive classes were the most fun to play as, but others might prefer defence or support.
Noah is the main protagonist, and is an off-seer, a soldier tasked with playing those slain in battle off to the next life with his special flute. His role handily sets up the game’s contemplative tone, but the world is very slow to reveal its secrets. There’s an opening scene that initially seems barely linked to the rest of the story, and it’ll be ages before you even know who you’re fighting against. The story is definitely a slow-burner, but it’s okay because there’s plenty to keep you occupied. Huge areas to explore, extra-tough, bonus monsters to fight, side quests galore, and equipment and class systems that give endless scope for build-tweaking and customisation. If, like me, you’re not into all that min-maxing stuff, there is a handy auto-equip option that will get you through the main game absolutely fine.
The six main characters run the gamut of decent to extremely likeable, with the roguish Lanz and Eunie and the occasionally prudish Taion being my personal favourites. Each of these characters comes with a character class that fits into one of three categories; attack, defence or healing. They don’t have to stick to these classes though, and can be given another character’s class with the press of a button, gaining new weapons and a new move-set. This means that studious healer Taion can become a longsword-wielding damage-dealer, or front-line defender Lanz can be converted to a back-of-field support and healing role, should you so wish. Certain skills from certain classes can be carried over to new classes too, giving even more scope for customisation. There are numerous “hero” characters that you’ll encounter throughout the game, and these guys take up the seventh slot in your active party. They bring whole new classes to the mix which can also be equipped to your main party members, and there are loads of them in the main game and even more in the post-game, resulting in a galaxy of options when it comes to fiddling with character and party builds.
The battle system feels like it was pulled from something like World of Warcraft, with various skills available that slowly recharge after use. Initially, the battles are simple, consisting of standing your chosen character (you can control any of the main six) next to the enemy and letting them auto-attack, then activating special attacks as they become available. As you advance, the combat system becomes more intricate, adding layer upon layer of complexity with attack-types that can be chained into other attack-types, moves that can be cancelled into other moves, special abilities that can be activated by building up a metre, and other special abilities that can be activated by building up other metres. Positioning is very important, as certain attacks are more effective from certain angles, and you’ll charge your chain attacks quicker if you attack from the right direction. The chain attacks, once activated, tee up a kind of interactive, anime-style cut-scene event where everyone gets to do their cool moves in an order that you define. Even this is complex and multi-layered, as you’ll need to balance the build up to the finishing move in such a way that you boost your damage multiplier as much as possible. Also, characters can merge to form a single, extra-powerful being, which will open up even more options and approaches. Remember, if all of this seems too much, just stick to the basics and you’ll be fine. That is totally what I did.
Being able to turn into big, angelic robot things is just one of many wrinkles in a complex battle system.
The world is large and mostly open, with huge, bizarre structures and rock formations looming on the horizon that you might eventually find yourself climbing over later in the game. There are various boss enemies and supply caches hidden about the place, but if you’re not too into the crafting and stat-maximising side of the game, the containers you can find won’t seem like much of a reward. The world can feel lifeless despite the number and variety of monsters roaming about, but this is likely a deliberate attempt to communicate the war-torn nature of things, with the only humanoid denizens belonging to the various military colonies that are hidden in ravines or behind waterfalls. The creature design is very interesting, from buzzing wasp-type enemies to gigantic, thundering colossi that are probably way too high level for you to even contemplate going up against. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is not afraid to sprinkle its low level areas with high level enemies that you’ll be expected to come back and defeat much later in the game. This can occasionally result in you getting one-shotted by a rogue, high level monster that has snuck up on you while you were occupied with something else. Don’t worry, the party will just appear at the nearest safe area with nary a scratch on their pretty, anime faces.
Speaking of which, the characters are interesting and well-designed, with their outfits having an understated quality that eschews the over-the-top fantasy/steampunk clothing you might expect from games in this genre. The voice acting is mostly on point, and Xenoblade Chronicles 3 continues the series tradition of making almost everyone sound like they’re from Dickensian London, although there are definitely some Welsh, Irish, Scottish and Australian twangs in there, too. Again, my favourite character here is Lanz, whose exclamations of locating rare “doodahs” out in the field have become something of a meme in my household.
Even though I really enjoyed Xenoblade Chronicles 3, there are things about it that can make it difficult to recommend, especially to those with less experience in the JRPG scene. The battle system that initially seems barely interactive is the foremost of these stumbling blocks, but if you come in with an open mind, or you’re an RPG veteran, you’ll soon realise that there is a wealth of depth and strategy on offer. Despite these options and details, the battles rarely felt especially epic, even with the majestic visuals and stellar musical accompaniment. If a battle is too difficult for you, it doesn’t feel like there’s much you can do about it other than grind a few levels. This isn’t true of course; you can change your party composition by adding healers or defensive classes, or tweak your moves and equipment, but it’s all preparation and no skill, all science and no art. I also found that I became over-levelled after a chapter or so, and started to breeze through the story missions and most side-quests. I didn’t really need to pay attention during the battles, and that’s when the sleepiness set in.
The grand vistas offer clues as to where this is set in the Xenoblade Chronicles timeline. They also look all majestic and stuff.
I knew what I was getting into with Xenoblade Chronicles 3, but it still had its surprises. The story, though winding and very introspective, is interesting and has some surprising moments, the main characters are endearing, and there are some highlights among the secondary hero characters, too. The villains are less memorable, but they do the job. There are some awesome cut-scenes and some great vehicle and robot designs, and some gorgeous exploration music joins one or two memorable and epic battle themes on the soundtrack.
I enjoyed Xenoblade Chronicles 3 a lot. I enjoyed it, and then I got used to it, and then I took it for granted, and now I can’t play it without drifting off to dreamland. There is post-game content, but I think I’ll save it until the next time I’m suffering from a bout of insomnia.
