GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Bubsy in Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind

The 1990s were a crazy time. I mean, two of the biggest mascots were a plumber and an anthromorphic hedgehog with super speed. And gaming companies left and right were vying for their own position in mascot mecca. Some faired better than others. Remember Rocky Rodent? Chester Cheetah? Boogerman? Cool Spot? For your sake, I surely hope you don’t.

Accolade, Inc. entered the mascot gauntlet in 1993 with Bubsy, a bobcat that…uh, was full of catchphrases and snark. Starring in the awkwardly titled Bubsy in Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind, the bouncy bobcat is on a mission to stop a race of fabric-stealing aliens called “Woolies”; they have stolen the world’s yarn ball supply, but more vital is that they stole Bubsy’s personal collection, the largest yet to be seen. Yes, we all know cats love balls of yarn. However, Bubsy is a bobcat, and I think they like to maul small animals. Just a minor difference in the end.

Bubsy in Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind takes place over five unique worlds, each with three levels. The Woolies and accompanying enemies change their look with each world, but otherwise the gameplay remains the same: a lot of platforming. World 1 is sort of a generic homelands, focusing on houses and water slides and underground tunnels. World 2 is an amusement park. World 3 stars a train in the Wild West setting. World 4 is something akin to national wildlife park, with trees being chopped down and gysers spouting. And naturally, World 5 takes place in outer space.

My least fond, but most strongest memories from adventuring with Bubsy are  1) that he would just not shut up and 2) that the game’s soundtrack was a bit of mess. First, let’s talk about talking. At the beginning of every level, Bubsy made an attempt at being cute or catchy. Here, check ’em all out:

• What could possibly go wrong? – Cheesewheels of Doom
• Did I mention I don’t like heights? – Forbidden Plummet
• More like a bridge too short. – A Bridge Too Fur
• Hey, whatever blows your hair back! – Fair Conditioning
• Hey, I thought I saw Elvis back there! – Night of the Bobcat
• Shouldn’t that be ‘fearless’? Uh-oh… – Our Furless Leader
• Well, it worked for Clint. – The Good, The Bad and the Woolies
• Go ahead, make my day! – A Fistful of Yarn
• My contract does not mention pain! – Dances with Woolies
• Hey, I didn’t write this stuff!!! – Beavery Careful
• Next time, I get a stunt-cat! – Rock around the Croc
• Is there a veternarian in the audience? – Claws for Alarm
• That’s it! I’m outta here! You can’t make me. – Eye of the Bobcat
• What, and give up show business? – No Time for Paws
• Somebody dial 911!!! – Lethal Woolie
• Whoah, are you still playing this thing?! – A Farewell to Woolies

Man, look at all those puns. Really, I’m not against them. As a writer, I’m bound by an unwritten law to at least admire puns. However, hearing Bubsy constantly crank out these sayings can really drive one batty. Especially since, back then, I never got past the second world (at least that I can recall), that meant hearing the first five or six sayings over and over again. Go ahead and say “What could possibly go wrong?” in a really nasily voice ten times in a row and then tell me you love life.

Now for the music. It was bubbly and erratic, and suffered greatly from changing tones on the drop of a dime. For example, Bubsy is just bouncy along, collecting yarn to some chippy tunes when all of sudden he’s fallen into a waterslide part, and the soundtrack changes dramatically to the ilk often used to represent TOTAL DOOM. The strange thing is that hopping out of the waterslide does not deter the music, and it will continue to follow Bubsy until the game believes all is well in Woolieland.

That said, I really did love platforming with Bubsy. Bouncing really high into the air in any level and then floating down to the unknown was always thrilling. In fact, it’s one of the very first things you can do in the game, using a tree’s branch at the opening screen to shoot directly into the sky. Sometimes you’d land safely on the ground; sometimes you’d drift over to a secret area full of collectible yarn balls; and sometimes you’d fall into an open slice of water to drown. Bobcats can’t swim. It’s true, just ask Animal Planet. I also loved all the hidden areas and ways to move forward, like using the interlinked cave system or simply running forward. The graphics were extremely colorful and fun, offering a variety of enemies and items to go along with each world’s setting. It taught me a good amount about judging jumps and taking chances.

Alas, finding an actual SNES copy is probably pretty hard. And after the trainwreck that was Bubsy 3D, the franchise fizzled and was forcibly forgotten by all involved. There’s not even a downloadable version available via the Nintendo Wii. To answer Bubsy’s question from the very last level of the game, no. Sadly, I’m not.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Donkey Kong Country

Ah, Donkey Kong Country…Only for Nintendo. And they meant it.

I was, in fact, never a subscriber to Nintendo Power (sorry, Greg Noe!), but somehow still got access to a VHS tape called Donkey Kong Country: Exposed, which was a behind-the-scenes tour of Nintendo of America’s headquarters in Redmond, Washington, with bonus early game footage and tips from testers on how to access hidden bonus stages. Think I “borrowed” the tape from a friend’s house. Ahem. “Borrowed.” And it, much like the game itself, ended up parting with me some time during my switch from SNES to PlayStation 1. I have a strong feeling though that the VHS tape sold at a neighborhood yardsale for 50 cents. Oh yeah, made a profit.

Moving on, this plus about four other SNES titles more or less were my collection for the longest time. Money was tight, and if I didn’t get a game for Christmas, well…I was just a wee lad then that would water the grass or wash a neighbor’s car for pocket money. Was not rolling it, as they say. I relied a lot on renting games for a few days or borrowing them from a friend. Notice I said borrow and not “borrow”; no way I would’ve gotten away with something like that, not when a kid’s SNES or Sega Genesis was his or her only friend. Oh, and those other games consisted of Super Metroid, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, Super Mario World, and–don’t laugh, kids–Jurassic Park. I’ll talk about Jurassic Park for the SNES one day, but I am just not ready yet; the scars have not healed.

It’s clear that Donkey Kong Country came to be from other platformers of that day and age, most namely Super Mario Bros. The plot is essentially the same. Instead of saving the princess, you need to save DK’s stolen banana loot. The game has you collecting bananas in levels for extra lives; you can die by falling down holes in the level or getting touched by enemies; and you use a world map to select where you want to go. Sure, sure, the game did some original things too, but it pays a lot of homage to its elders.

But Donkey Kong Country is a very memorable game, and I think fondly about it a lot. The music, the jumping, the level progression, the mine carts, and the shooting from barrel to barrel to moving barrel. There was a lot going on within, and it was very successful in pushing the SNES to its limits and then mocking rival 32-bit and CD-ROM based consoles with purported superior processing power. I think many will first remember the pre-rendered 3D graphics, which really helped bring the 2D side-scrolling platformer to life; the early jungle levels are full of green and treetops and towering hills while the snow levels are replete with blizzards and glistening ledges. This engine was also used on Rare’s other title Killer Instinct, still in my collection now.

By and far though, my favorite stages in Donkey Kong Country were any where you rode an animal. These included Rambi the Rhino, Expresso the Ostrich, Enguarde the Swordfish, Winky the Frog, and Squawks the Parrot, and all were tied to a specifically themed level. Yup, even as frustrating as the underwater levels were, once you got on that swordfish it was ::ahem:: clear swimming from there. Later games would introduce even more animals, and those also were worth looking forward to.

The only negatives I ever put on Donkey Kong Country‘s shoulders were its coin-based save system and boss battles. The boss battles all followed a very repetitive strategy and once you figured that out, it was hit ’em, hit ’em, an hit ’em dead. I ate everything else up with wide eyes and an open heart.

Tara and I combined our SNES collections back when we first started dating in 2008, and she had Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest, a pleasant surprise, as well as a decent filler for the time being. That said, I’m definitely interested in seeing how Donkey Kong Country Returns for the Wii plays out despite having a paper-flat title.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Oni

Back in the late 1990s and early 00s, I was very much heavily into all things Ghost in the Shell. The movie, the manga, the TV miniseries, the art style, and the crazy robotics. You name it, I ate it up. It didn’t even have to be Ghost in the Shell; so long as it came close or paid homage to Mamoru Oshii, I followed like a hungry dog, a transformation that ultimately led me to picking up this little one-shot game from Bungie West called Oni.

It’s a third person action-adventure game that blends gunplay, exploration, and hand-to-hand combat as players help Konoko (who is not too far off design-wise and name-wise from Motoko) strike back against the Orwellian government known as the Syndicate. She’ll sneak around and break enemy’s necks with her killer assassin moves. She strafe around corners and fire at goons with a multitude of weapons: handguns, rifles, special energy weapons, and more. And the story unfolds via in-game cutscenes. At the time, it was a very impressive game. It felt dauntingly large and yours to do whatever with.

I first saw Oni at a friend’s house, and it was basically the tutorial level that teaches you the punches and kicks of things and then the very first mission, which has Konoko clearing out a Syndicate warehouse and eliminating a mole within their operations. I remember now, upon seeing it, just being wowed by the fact that it was–despite obviously following a linear path–pretty much up to the player to clear out the warehouse as they pleased. This I liked. Exploration and freedom is always good, a trend that the PlayStation 2 will continue to push later on with games like Grand Theft Auto 3 and Persona 3. Also, ammo is pretty scarce on Konoko’s first foray into enemy terrority so she had to rely more on punches and kicks and deadly neck-breaking flips to weaken the enemy. Having only experienced then Dark Cloud as an action-adventure battle system, this one in Oni was fast-paced and nerve-inducing. Though it did take some time to master, learning how to block and move around an enemy’s attack.

Graphics then were top-notch. Top of the notch. A notch at its toppest. Now…eh, not so much. I mean, there was a serious lack of texture throughout:

So yeah, the game’s pretty ugly. But the fun factor was high. Guess that’s enough ying/yang for me.

Truthfully, I don’t recall ever getting far into the game. Maybe five or six missions and that’s it. No real reason is jumping out to me as to why I stopped, and I guess at some point I traded it in for, most likely, a measly lump of store credit. And yet…I miss it.

I dunno. I think if I spy it in a bargain bin for $5.00 or less, I might have to get it again.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: The Granstream Saga

If anything, many gamers will know of The Granstream Saga for one glaring quirk: all its in-game characters are faceless. They have no faces. Something ate them. Instead, there’s just this round thing of flesh on top of their necks with some colored hair to sort of the young and the old, the male and the female, the smart and the dumb. Still, despite this oddity, the game featured animated cutscenes of the anime kind, a talking bird companion, and great sword-swinging action (for its time). Oh, and it is also purported to be the very first full 3D RPG for the PlayStation. Cool, cool.

The plot is pretty typical “save the world” stuff. Except, this time around, you have to save multiple worlds. See, once upon a time in this alt Earth, the entire planet was covered entirely in water. Then, thanks to magic and aftereffects from the war between the Allied Spirit Army and the Imperial Wizardry, numerous continents lifted up from the water and out into the air to float fine for years and years until you loaded up the game disc. Now they are slowly sinking back down. Way to go, gamer.

This is where Eon comes into play. He’s the hero of The Granstream Saga, a boy not so ready for his coming-of-age tale, but he’ll meet a varied bunch of folks along his travels who will help him save his floating homeland, as well as all the others. After all, faceless friends are always generous. You’ll spend a good portion of the game staring at his bright red hair.

Gameplay is very standard RPG fare, with exploration of towns and dungeons just about equal to each other. While roaming around a cave, you’ll find enemies and duke it out in real time. Eon carries a sword and a shield, and you’ll take Zelda-like swipes at the enemy, engaging it fully. All in all, kind of bland now…but the system worked great in 1998, and things got much better with upgraded equipment and the ability to cast magic. You eventually learned strategies, too, like side-stepping behind an enemy for a stronger attack.

The Granstream Saga was not the first RPG I played on the PlayStation, but it has strangely had a lasting effect on me. Images of faceless villagers—as well as that uncomfortable shower scene—flash in my mind from time to time. And the details about the game’s ending have always been fuzzy, something to do with that bird companion. And yes, I could easily just watch an entire playthrough on YouTube, but that would totally ruin my gaming nostalgia. Instead, I’ll just miss the heck out of my copy and yearn for the return of the faceless.

NOTE: I could not find any great screenshots of these faceless game models so I whipped up some examples below so you can get a feel for things. Enjoy!

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Uniracers

Uniracers is a quirky if simplistic racing game, but above everything it was fun and fast. You might’ve thought you experienced blinding speed playing F-Zero at the time, but you were most definitely not prepared for this 1994 SNES release. It was, in fact, a glove-slap to SEGA’s speedy Sonic series (say that five times fast!), but Uniracers turned out to be more of a miss than a hit with gamers. A shame as it was a blast to play!

Judging by screenshots alone, the graphics aren’t too impressive…but they work for this kind of game. You control a riderless unicycle and move along multicolored circuit tracks, gaining speed, avoiding obstacles, and nailing as many tricks as possible, which leads to speed boosts and the chance for more trickery. There’s no plot to this madness, and that’s a good thing, but one does have to be careful of obstacles on the course. Hand/eye coordination is key here.

Uniracers offered two player, split-screen action, which was always a hoot, and the ability to minimally customize your cycle was a welcomed addition. What I remember most though is the frenetic music. It was bouncy, it was laden with kooky sound effects, and it was perfect for zooming through corkscrews and doing three backflips in a row.

However, I never did get to race against Anti-Uni, the last challenger for the game’s final circuit. It seems this cycle had a few tricks up its metaphoric sleeve, causing the track to go invisible or the game’s controls to reverse. Sounds like fun!

I doubt we’ll ever see this series reborn, but if so, the Nintendo DS is the perfect spot for it. You could steer the cycle with the D-pad and then manage tricks with the stylist. Wouldn’t be too hard to do actually, but I’m not going to hold my breath on this one.

In the end: Uniracers, I miss you.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Jumping Flash!

Ah, Jumping Flash! No, I’m not exclaiming. The ! is just part of the game’s name, as well as the feeling I get when I realize that I traded this quirky gem during my transition from Playstation to Playstation 2. Why? Because, as far as I can tell, there’s never been anything quite like it since.

Releasing in 1995 for the Playstation, Jumping Flash! was a 3D platformer played from a first-person perspective. You are a robotic bunny named Robbit that is out to stop an insane astrophysicist named Baron Aloha from turning a bunch of worlds into private resorts. Yup, that’s the plot. I said it was quirky. To stop this low-life, Robbit must find the Jet Pods that propel each world and reunite the Crater Planet. Basically, you will jump, shoot things, jump, jump, shoot things, jump, and jump some more. There’s a lot of jumping to do, outpacing the shooting by several miles. Good thing this wasn’t called Step Aerobics Flash!

Robbit can jump up to three times: once off the ground, then in mid-air, and then a third time in mid-air, allowing him to reach crazy heights. What’s neat about this is that, as Robbit jumps, the camera tilts down to his feet so you see the ground (if it is still visible) below you rather than just staring at sky horizontally. This was pretty impressive the first time you did it, and gave the player an amazing sense of freedom.

Level designs varied, with the funnest being the one set in an amusement park with a roller-coaster as your launching point. In every world, Robbit could pick up a bunch of power-ups like rockets and cherry bombs, as well as hourglasses to extend the time. Yes, levels were timed, which made jumping around more exciting and intense, especially when the clock was ticking down and you were flying high.

Graphically, it is what it is. Polygon count is low, the sky is a static wash that never changes, and the enemies were cutesy animals like penguins and bomb-tossing beetles. It’s an early PS1 game, and it shows. Thankfully, the gameplay more than makes up for things.

Alas, I can’t recall too much about Jumping Flash! other than the main hub levels. I do know that at the end of each world, there would be a boss fight, but shake me silly because I don’t remember doing any of them. I suspect you had to shoot them somewhere special (keep it clean, people) and that jumping was involved.

It seems there was a direct sequel, Jumping Flash! 2, as well as some games loosely-based on the gameplay concept. It’s a shame that the series itself is so underrated and did not find a stronger fanbase. Given today’s consoles and technology, something truly great could be achieved here if developers were interested. Take this, add some Mirror’s Edge, a pinch of love, and go to town.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Trap Gunner

I can’t even recall why this game is no longer in my collection. I must have, at some point during my climb from Playstation 1 to Playstation 2, traded it in along with a heap of others to help get some extra gaming funds. The young fool I was…the young, dumb, blind-as-a-barrel fool.

Of Trap Gunner, what I remember the most is that it was a hoot to play. Not the storyline, not the characters, not the graphics–just that it was a party every time. The premise revolved around your character and another character running around a battlefield, and as you went you planted all different types of traps to snare them in and drain their life-bar. You could use bombs, pitfalls, gas, mines, and force panels. Some worked well on their own, others had to be used in conjunction with other traps to really seal the deal.

Here’s a great example of something I’d do every round in Trap Gunner, no matter the stage:
1. Plant a force panel
2. Directly across from the force panel plant a pitfall
3. Next to the pitfall plant a switch detonator
4. Lure my opponent over to the force panel
5. Enjoy the domino effect

The best part is that traps you plant can’t be seen by your opponent (and vice versa), making running around a bit nerve-wrecking. You might not want to go up those stairs…so you can drop into a sneak mode to sniff out enemy traps.

There was a single player mode, as well as a two player split-screen if I recall correctly. The story mode did little, but open up new levels and secret characters. All in all, Trap Gunner was a fun mix of action and strategy, and is most certainly a game I miss from time to time.

Check out the anime-like intro as well:

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.