I’ve come to think of the video game offerings of Capcom as tiny little oases in the yawning desert of absolute garbage that is the SNES library. I might have used this analogy before, but it remains apt. It remains apt! As long as they keep making games that don’t bore me to tears or rape me in the eyes with bad graphics, Capcom will be my go-to company for Games That I Don’t Completely Hate™. To be fair though, it’s hard to rape my eyes since I wear glasses, so you’d either have to cocksmash through the lenses or convince me to take my glasses off in order to enjoy the warm embrace of boning my eye sockets.
Super Buster Brothers is a game where your principal objective is to pop balloons, like some kind of sadistic party clown who ruined my 6th birthday. You accomplish this rather unambitious goal by throwing what looks like a length of spiked chain into the air as balloons and other bits of debris fall down on your head. Should one touch you, you die. Just like it is with real balloons. That’s how that party clown died. END OF STORY.
As the stages progress, the number of objects falling down at you increases, and your hopes of survival decrease. Your spiked chain (or whatever)—even with the myriad of power-ups you receive—is no longer enough to stem the ever-growing tide of bubbles and balloons and things. You will die, crushed under the weightlessness of your mistakes.
I’m not really sure why your character is under threat of being constantly crushed to death by traditionally light objects, but there it is. Scrambling back and forth to eke out another few moments of life that will only consist of more scrambling for life. Trapped in a never-ending dungeon of gravityborn sadness.
This game is just like sex: it’s fun for a little while, becomes frustrating, and then ends with me collecting lengths of spiked chain in a backpack before hitchhiking home.