Foreman For Real Boxing

This man has nine children.  Combined with the bulgy face, his prodigious rate of reproduction leads me to the conclusion that he is so full of semen that it has inflated him.  He is a perverted water balloon of a man.
This man has ten children. Combined with the bulgy face, his prodigious rate of reproduction leads me to the conclusion that he is so full of semen that it has inflated him. He is a perverted water balloon of a man.

George Foreman’s face looks like a tiger that fell two hundred feet and landed face-first.

Like the fallen tiger, though, Foreman remains fierce, if rather stunned.

That’s my assumption, at least.  You see, even though I have reviewed almost every single boxing game so far, I don’t really know much about boxers, or boxing itself, a.k.a. the “sweet science.”  In fact, I would say that such a moniker would be better used to describe, say, baking.

Boxing, as I understand it, involves little pie, or even no pie at all.

What it does involve is punching.  This game certainly has it.  It has two pixellated renders of photo stills of various torsos, all of which I assume are from real boxers, sliding around the screen and jerking back and forth from still frame to still frame as they punch.

This grim slideshow was difficult to watch.  It was like Rock ’em Sock ’em Robots in the Uncanny Valley Arena.  Combine this with Foreman’s already slightly unsettling face, which I can only describe as “pleasantly retarded,” and I could not stomach more than one round of trading ridiculous punches.

Since this game is completely awful besides the suprisingly super fucking badass soundtrack of squeadly synth guitar over chugging chords, let’s talk briefly about George Foreman, aka Big George, and his weird fucking marshmallow face.

Big George is a two-time heavyweight champion, an Olympic gold medalist, and the oldest man to win the heavyweight championship (at 45 years old).

George has ten children – five girls and five boys.  The five boys are named George Jr., George III, George IV, George V, and George VI.  You can’t fucking make this shit up, folks.  Their nicknames are Monk, Monk II, Monk III, Monk IV, and Barry.

Let’s pause for a moment, and reflect on that.

Consider also that these children have probably inherited their father’s face, all five of them.  Imagine him gathering them close for a loving embrace, all of them with faces that look like three couches mashed together.  Let us hope, for their sake and the sake of anyone who ever sees this, that his face is the result of years of punching, and not genetic.

George Foreman is also a Christian minister.

Most importantly, though, Big George gave us all the George Foreman Lean Mean Fat Grilling Machine – the George Foreman Grill.  He has made more money off that thing than his whole boxing career, and with good reason!  A marvelous invention, as are all its spinoffs.  I have a knockoff of the Foreman grill myself.  Its delicious bounty haunts my waistline every day.

So I salute you, George Foreman, although you’ll probably have to pull your cheeks out from in front of your eyelids to see it.  I salute you, and your mighty fists, and your wonderful grill, and I forgive you for the terrible game that attempted to profit from your fame.

In closing: meat is the new bread.


The Flintstones: The Treasure of Sierra Madrock


While surveying the site of some ancient ruins, two young archaeologists, Derek and Margo, and their nomad friend Moki, find themselves trapped and sinking in a whirling pool of sand.  And when the dust settles, they stare up in awe at a vast chamber, filled with giant relics and artifacts from another civilisation…And there, at the far end of a cavern, a door with a strange inscription!  ‘All who enter these portals pass…through…time!’[1]






MARGO: Where are we?  It looks like we’re in a clandestine gathering…of men…in a cave.  The strong scent of manliness; it’s almost too much for a woman to handle.  Quick Derek, tell us what this is before I pass out!

DEREK: Hmmm…they appear to be cavemen, Margo, and judging from their common headdress, I’d say you’re right.  This *is* a clandestine gathering of men, perhaps the earliest incarnation of the Freemasonry.

MOKI: All I know is I want one of those funny hats!  Look at those horns!  Is that blue cotton candy it’s made of?  Mmm…cotton candy!

MARGO: I believe it’s called ‘fairy floss’ in parts of the British Commonwealth–

DEREK: Quiet Margo, Moki!  It looks like the leader’s about to say something!…He says he’s the Grand Poobah, and he’s retiring.


MARGO: I wonder who will become the new–

DEREK: Wait!  There’s more…he says whoever finds the Treasure of Sierra Madrock will become the new Grand Poobah!

MOKI: Treasure?!!  What are we waiting for?! That hat looks delicious, let’s go!!

DEREK: Not so fast, my nomad friend.  We can’t interfere with the timeline.

MARGO: Why not?  It’s never stopped us befo–

DEREK: SHHHHHHHHH!! It looks like we already have two volunteers, one who calls himself Fred Flintstone and his short companion, Barney Rubble.

MOKI: Oooh! I saw them on TV one time!

DEREK: Don’t be silly Moki, this is real life, not a cartoon!  And besides, you don’t even have TV where you come from!

MARGO: Actually, this *is* a cartoon, and Fred and Barney are from the studio next doo–

DEREK: SHHHHHHHHH!! There’s no time to waste!  We have to follow them!

MARGO: Will you stop interrupting everyone, you jerk?!

DEREK: Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, what was it you were saying, Margo?  Try speaking into my other ear in future.

MARGO: Sorry, never mind…

DEREK: Good. Well there’s no time to waste!  Let’s go!

MOKI: Yippee!

MARGO: It looks like they’re taking turns rolling some kind of six-sided rock, with Arabic numerals on it…

DEREK: That would be a primitive die, Margo – not to be confused with its plural, ‘dice’ – and they’re rolling to decide which area they’ll go to.

MOKI: Ooh, craps!  Can I play?

DEREK: No need for profanity, Moki!  Besides, we all know that craps is a game of two “dice”.

MARGO: This is strange…my notes say the Flintstones were a modern Stone Age family, but there’s nothing ‘modern’ about this at all – no cranes; no insinkerators; no nothing.  Fred’s just running and jumping around the jungle like a primordial wonder, clubbing every dinosaur in sight!



MARGO: Oh, Moki!  Whatever will we do with you?

MOKI: But, but!–

DEREK: What on Earth! That Flintstone character just died, but now he’s back at it again!

MARGO: There he died again! But he keeps getting up and going for it!

DEREK: He’s not getting very far, though.  At this rate, we’ll never see the Treasure of Sierra Madrock!

MARGO: And that means…

MOKI: No blue cotton candy hat for Moki! Hurry Fred, hurry!

MARGO: It seems Fred is being resurrected against his will.  He doesn’t want to go on, but some one or some *thing* keeps dragging him out of the dirt.  And look at that HUD!  Derek, I have reason to believe we are in a video game of some k–

DEREK: Oh, don’t be silly, Margo!  Dinosaurs; cavemen – what more proof do you need that this is…haha, come on, Moki, what did you do with Fred’s–






MARGO: Was “club” the word you were looking for?  Oh, I’m sorry, did I just YELL INTO THE WRONG EAR?!


MARGO: That oughta teach you not to interrupt my sentences, Know-it-all Jerk! Come on Moki, let’s go home…

MOKI: Yahoo!

Football Fury

Sports, I guess. By Sammy, apprently.
Sports, I guess. By Sammy, apprently.

Game like Football Fury truly scare me in respect to this site. We’re only at the letter F right now in this list (actually, we’re at G: I am doing Football Fury a week or two after its due date to make up for one of the three people who decided not to actually finish the stuff they’d been assigned. I thought I’d be above digging them for this but I am irritated). Yet, already I feel like I am running out of amusing or special or entertaining ways to talk about the also-ran who-cares sports titles. I mean, Football Fury? Really?

But that’s the point of this site. To write about every game (at least, in North America on the SNES) is our very purpose. Whether we touch on the game or not (note that I mentioned this as I’ve skirted this game so far) is why we do it. That, and sometimes, having a deadline and a topic makes it easier to write. And writing makes it easier to get in the habit of writing. And it amuses us. And it amuses others, sometimes. I’m honestly happy to see Travis and Scott writing when the moon is any colour other than blue.

I’m all digressing up in this bitch. Football Fury? Really? What is there to say? There’s football. I don’t have many football stories left. I suppose I have two, but I’ll save them. Surely I’ll hit a few more football games by the time we get to “NFL Quarterback Club 96.” What is there to say? The name has “fury” in it. Some dudes hit each other to get a ball in an endzone. Someone gets more points than someone. A player is either happy or mad. There’s a lot of green on the screen.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch a movie where someone drowns after attempting to fish for spirits using a pickle on a string. This is a fact.

The Flintstones

The Flintstones
The Flintstones

Not much to say here. The Flintstones is the standard formula of a movie franchise turned into a mindless platform game. It gets partial credit for not entirely sucking, but suffers from the usual flaws. The music is annoying and repetitive. The level design is frustrating. There’s no point to the game. No plot. No depth. Its selling point is entirely the franchise. That’s it. That’s all.

Srsly?  US and British English, in a video game?  Nice logo whorage too.
Srsly? US and British English, in a video game? Nice logo whorage too.

The most amusing parts of the game are things like the language selection at the beginning. You can pick between British and US English as separate options. That amuses me greatly. You can disable the music and sound effects because they are that annoying. There’s even a two-player mode, so that you can share the frustration with a friend. Another amusing part is watching Fred huff and puff just standing still. We get it. He’s out of shape. But it doesn’t even kick in after running a bit. He’s sweating lard just standing there!

Is that a bone in your mouth, or are you just happy to see me?
Is that a bone in your mouth, or are you just happy to see me?

The game makes some casual attempt at using the SNES’ background graphics, but it is all so pointless. There’s no reason to play this game. Why would you want to? No matter how nostalgic you are about the Flintstones, this game isn’t fun. Even if you spend the time to make it pretty far, one little whap, or one little slip up, and you go all the way back to the beginning of the stage. Why? What’s the point?

Ok, you have decent backgrounds.  So you put a bit of time into this franchise rape.  Fine.  Actually, that's kinda sad, really.
Ok, you have decent backgrounds. So you put a bit of time into this franchise rape. Fine. Actually, that's kinda sad, really.

Verdict: The Flintstones leaves me with the usual emptiness of franchise plat form games. There is no point to it at all. It seems like an exercise in frustration to try to salvage what nostalgia you might have left about the classic show. You can enjoy the same nostalgia by just watching Fred sleep, or shove a piece of meat in his mouth when you stop moving. Just turn off the music and sound effects and watch him stand there for a bit. Same effect, less frustration.




Flashback is a brilliant action/adventure game from Delphine Software, the very same developer that provided us the timeless classic Shaq Fu.  In it, you play as Conrad Hart, a generic-looking man sporting crisp blue jeans, a slick brown jacket, and a magic semi-automatic pistol with INFINITE AMMUNITION—UNLOCKED!  A bold combination indeed for an enterprising man-of-action, you start off stranded in the middle of the jungle after being shot down during an escape attempt on a hover-bike.  With no recollection of who you are or why you were being pursued, you encounter a holocube with a recorded message from yourself, informing you that you need to get in touch with a friend of yours in New Washington (creative indeed!), who will help clarify everything for you.  With his assistance, you regain your memory and subsequently continue your investigation into the real motivations of your assailants.

Oddly, getting my ass to Mars was not part of the plan.
Oddly, getting my ass to Mars was not part of the plan.

The game’s theme borrows elements heavily from various other science fiction sources, such as Total Recall and Blade Runner (one mission in the game even involves you tracking down a replicant, which the game makes no attempt to refer as otherwise), not to mention various gameplay and visual elements bearing striking similarity to Another World, a.k.a. Out of this World (of which this is not a sequel, kids!), in particular its use of rotoscoped animations and vector-graphic cutscenes, as well as a somewhat similar use of a gun and force shield in combat (altogether not too surprising considering Delphine published Out of this World only a year before Flashback‘s initial release, which likely led to a reuse of code for the latter project).  Regardless, Flashback does an excellent job of pulling all of this together, packaging it up into a fun and unique gameplay experience.

In all, Flashback is one of those games everyone should play.  It may be a bit slower paced than other games (particularly at first), but putting forth the time, I think you’ll enjoy it.  No, really, you can trust me…I’m looking out for you here, ya know.  Come on, now, give it a try.  For me at least.


First Samurai

I don't know what the fuck is going on here.  There's a...there's a <i>giant head</i> and what looks like some meat on the ground, on the right, that a <i>xenomorph?</i> Like, from Aliens?  And he's got an arm for a lifebar, and some Klingon Empire symbols, and...yes, according to the bottom right he can use the Force, too.
I don't know what the fuck is going on here.

Look at that screenshot.

What the hell is that?

There’s a giant head, and some meat on the ground, and is that a xenomorph? Like, one of the things from Aliens? His life bar is a big muscly arm, for god’s sake, and he’s got about nine hundred items, including axes, potions, and…I don’t know what that is, is it a flute? A lantern maybe?  He’s also got what looks like a symbol for the Klingon Empire, there, which is obviously completely appropriate.

And he can use the Force.

I bet his name is Musashi Picard, his sword is called Terminator, and his horse is named Bladerunner.

Okay.  Alright.  Let’s actually look at how the game plays.

It begins with a shrieking blue-white spirit-head that circles an altar for approximately twelve hours before you magically appear, and then you run around punching and kicking until suddenly you get a sword, at which time your hero cries out “MY SWORD!” in case you weren’t paying attention.  Your punch and kick buttons now produce sword attacks.  I’m not really sure why there are punch and kick buttons.

As soon as you walk into the cave area to the right, there’s bats and about sixteen powerups per screen and leaping xenomorphs and ninjas and giant stone heads that try to eat you and collapsing floors between pillars suspending you over roaring flames and drumsticks and hams lying around and bizarre white-text tooltips floating in random places saying ATTACK HERE FOR SUCCESS! or equivalent gibberish and axes and falling boulders and what the fuck, man.

If a kid had really serious ADD, and you beat him to death with a rolled-up Castlevania strategy guide, this is what would flash before his eyes.

Firepower 2000


As you may know, our great nation is currently at war against a highly advanced enemy force.  Odds may seem against us, which is why WE NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE!!

Our great threat: MOLE-MEN
Our great threat: MOLE-MEN

Our military is currently recruiting and training a crackerjack team of skilled fighters.  You’ll be using state-of-the-art military technology to help combat this threat to the lives of the men and women of our country.

Benefits of enlisting include:

  • Hands-on experience with tools and techniques that will give you a head start in a variety of today’s top fields of work, such as truck driving, auto repair, vehicular armed combat, and accounting.
  • Leadership skills that you can apply to everyday life, from making your way up the corporate ladder to become CEO at a Fortune 500 company, to winning debates on internet forums thanks to your mastery of the English languCAPS LOCK IS FOR WINNARS!@#1
  • Shooting things.
  • You know, with guns and explosives and stuff.
  • Money for college.

You might be wondering, “How do the brilliant and handsome minds of this nation’s great military plan to take on this enemy threat?”  Behold:


What you see before you is the latest in military technology: the SWIV-2.  For years, one aspect of vehicular combat had eluded us: the ability to turn.  Thanks to the efforts of our top scientists, as well as the countless number of men and women injured, maimed, or killed while testing prototype models, we now have a vehicle that can face any direction imaginable—from left, to right, to…umm…left of center but not completely left.  Oh yeah, backwards and left, too…yeah, we’re on it!  Driving this baby will instantly make you an irresistible sex magnet.  Women will want to sleep with you.  Men will want to sleep with you.  I’ll want to sleep with you.  I mean, if you’re ready and all.  I know you just got out of a somewhat serious relationship, and there’s a lot of stuff going on in your life right now.  It’s okay, because your nation’s military is a caring, considerate military that won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.  Well, except killing—you’re just gonna have to live with that one.

If the freedom and excitement of the SWIV-2 is not your deal, we also provide the earlier model SWIV-1.  While not possessing the advanced motion technology of the SWIV-2 (such technology is still in testing for air-based vehicles), ground obstacles are of no problem for the SWIV-1.


Hurry now—we only have a couple openings available.  I mean, we only need, like, what…one or two of these to take on an entire army of robot killing machines, right?  So join the military of tomorrow…TODAY!!

Finally, a game that lets me enter my full name in the high-score list instead of just my initials.
Finally, a game that lets me enter my full name in the high-score list instead of just my initials.