Nice Package! (Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun, GameBoy)

No one's ever going to accuse Dragon Quest publisher, Enix, of jumping on the GameBoy bandwagon.

After all, it took the company over three years to release its first GameBoy title--and even then it was a game, Dungeon Land, someone else developed.

It took another year-plus for the game highlighted in this post to see the light of day. Admittedly, Enix didn't make it either. (Bizarre factoid: Enix only ever published the two titles named here for the original GameBoy.)

So, who is responsible for the development of this appealingly unique puzzler? That would be Daft.

Don't feel bad if this is the first you're hearing of Daft. I was completely in the dark about the company before I started researching this write-up. (I always assumed Enix both developed and published this version of Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun.)



If you're any kind of "retro gamer," though, you've probably at least heard of one of Daft's other products, though--that being the quirky Super Famicom platformer, Hameln no Violin Hiki (aka Violinist of Hameln).

As for Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun, it's based on Ami Shibata's 1991 manga series of the same name. To be frank, I know nothing about said series and, as such, have no idea as to why the powers that be at Daft or Enix decided to translate the IP into a puzzle game for Nintendo's first portable game system.

What I do know: Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun is a fun little brain-teaser.

This is no Tetris or Puyo Puyo clone, however. In fact, I can't think of another puzzle game that plays anything like Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun.

Explaining how it works through words isn't an easy task, so check out this gameplay footage--or this footage--if you're curious to know more.

The good news: it only takes a few minutes of puttering around to figure out what you're supposed to do. After that, it's smooth sailing.

Another piece of good news: even people who don't know a lick of Japanese should find Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun both accessible and enjoyable.

With all of that out of the way, what do you think about the game's outer box, cartridge, and instruction manual, all of which are showcased throughout this post?

I especially like its colorful cover art. In fact, that's what initially drew me to the game--well, that and the Enix logo printed along its lower edge.

Have any of you played Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun? If so, what do you think of it? Even if you haven't played it, though, what do you think of the game's packaging?

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts about Bubble Ghost, Burning Paper, Noobow, Peetan, Penguin-kun Wars Vs., and Shippo de Bun

Shippo de Bun's stunning packaging puts a new spin on the old phrase 'nice piece of tail'

I know this post should be included in my long-running "Year of the GameBoy" series, but I've got to cut the cord on it at some point (I launched it back in early 2014), so I figured now was as good a time as any.

Plus, any write-up about this Japanese title deserves a unique headline, if you ask me. Shippo de Bun is one of the best GameBoy releases around, after all.

Not that I knew this myself until a few years ago, mind you. Back in the summer of 1991, when this game first hit store shelves in North America and Europe--as Tail 'Gator--it completely avoided my radar. It wasn't until I came across its brilliant Japanese box art, showcased in the photo above, that it made any kind of impression on me.

Shortly after I figured out its name, I plopped it into the search bars on auction sites like eBay and Yahoo! Auctions Japan--and nearly fainted.

Anyone who collects GameBoy carts won't be surprised by that news, I'm sure. Why? Because copies of both Tail 'Gator and Shippo de Bun--complete-in-box ones, in particular--often cost a pretty penny these days.

Still, I was determined to own a Japanese copy of the game, so I kept my eye out for a reasonably priced one--and snapped one up earlier this year.

Am I glad I did, now that I've had a few months to ponder my wallet-withering decision? You bet. Like I said in my first attempt at this post's header, I think Shippo de Bun's packaging alone is worth the price of admission.

Couple that with the fact that Shippo de Bun--or Tail 'Gator, whichever you prefer--is an absolute blast to play, and I'd say the game is a must-own for anyone who owns and still plays a GameBoy (or GameBoy Color or GameBoy Advance) and has the needed funds.



If that doesn't quite describe you, I'd still recommending finding a way to experience some version of this game. It plays similarly to old-school single-screen platformers like Don Doko Don and Parasol Stars, but with a number of twists.

For starters, stages in Shippo de Bun take up more than a single screen. They only scroll sideways, though, not up and down, and most seem to cover about three screens.

Also, you don't capture or trap enemies in this Natsume-made game and then use them as weapons against their surviving co-conspirators, as is the case in most examples of the genre. Here, you whack baddies with your tail until they croak. You use the same appendage to crack open safes, which litter each level and provide vital power-ups.

Finally, your goal while playing Shippo de Bun isn't to clear each screen of enemies, but to find--in a safe, unsurprisingly--the key that opens a door that sits on opposite your entrance point.

It's all a lot more enjoyable than it probably sounds. Bolstering Shippo de Bun's appeal: it looks great and sounds even better. Seriously, the soundtrack that accompanies the alligator protagonist's trials and travails is among the best ever produced for a GameBoy cartridge. It's bouncy and jazzy and even a bit rock-y.

My only complaint about Shippo de Bun's packaging: its designers reused the same art for its outer box, manual cover, and cart label.

Oh, well, at least a few original illustrations can be found on the inside pages of its instruction booklet. Don't worry, you'll be able to give them a good, long look in a future installment of my "Manual Stimulation" series.

In the meantime, what do those of you who've played either Tail 'Gator or Shippo de Bun think of the game? And what do you think of the Japanese version's packaging?

See also: previous blog posts about the packaging produced for Burning Paper, Noobow, Peetan, Snow Bros. Jr., and Tumblepop

Surprise! The Year of the GameBoy Continues: Penguin-kun Wars Vs.

In light of the recent news (see japanesenintendo.com for more info) that publisher City Connection is prepping a "modern remake" of Penguin-kun Wars--to be called Penguin-kun Gira Gira WARS--for the Nintendo Switch, I decided now was as good a time as any to publish a post about the original portable version of ASCII Entertainment's one-on-one battler.

If this is the first you've ever heard of Penguin-kun Wars, it's an arcade-style game that stars a handful of animals (specifically, a bat, a cow, a rabbit, a rat and, of course, a penguin) who, for some reason or another, come together to toss balls across a table at each other.

You, the player, choose and then control one of the above-mentioned creatures in a timed battle against another animal, with the goal being to get all 10 balls onto your opponent's side of the table before the clock runs out. Should you fail to accomplish that task, the next best thing is to ensure there are fewer balls on your side of the table than there are on your opponent's when the buzzer rings.

Not all animals are treated equally in any version of Penguin-kun Wars, by they way. For example, the rat moves quickly side to side but throws balls slowly. The cow, on the other hand, lacks foot speed but is fast to recover when hit by a ball. (Sorry, I forgot to mention earlier that characters are knocked unconscious when pelted by said projectiles.)

It's hardly the deepest of experiences, mind you, but it's good, clean fun while also being pretty darn cute, so it's an easy title to recommend even with its shallow gameplay.

Penguin-kun Wars began life--in 1985--as an arcade game, by the way. That same year, ASCII published home ports for both the MSX and the Famicom. The portable port discussed and highlighted here, which added multiplayer tournaments via the Game Boy Video Link to the mix, didn't see the light of day until early 1990.

Unlike the Famicom and MSX iterations Penguin-kun Wars, Penguin-kun Wars Vs. wasn't a Japan-only product. In fact, Nexoft brought it to North America as Penguin Wars, while Nintendo handled its release, as King of the Zoo, throughout Europe.

Considering every other version of Penguin-kun Wars is crammed with color, a GameBoy conversion could've been a major disappointment. Like Bubble Bobble Junior, Tumblepop and Snow Bros. Jr., though, Penguin-kun Wars Vs. is surprisingly easy on the eyes despite being a black-and-green affair. Actually, I'd go so far as to say the sprites showcased in the latter game look better than either of its homebound counterparts.

Unfortunately, Penguin-kun Wars for Famicom bests this on-the-go effort in the area of gameplay due to the portable title's somewhat stutter-y frame rate. Don't let that scare you away from it, though; it's still perfectly playable--it's just not perfect.

Granted, I'd probably recommend this game for its packaging alone. I'm especially fond of its cover art, though the interior of its instruction booklet has its moments, too. Speaking of which, you can virtually flip through the entirety of the Penguin-kun Wars Vs. manual in this "Manual Stimulation" post of mine.

In the meantime, have any of you played Penguin-kun Wars in some form or fashion? If so, I'd love it if you're share your opinions of the experience(s) in the comments section of this post.

See also: previous 'Year of the GameBoy' posts

Surprise! The Year of the GameBoy Continues: Burning Paper

This latest "Year of the GameBoy" post focuses on a title that's long given me a lot of joy--and has long caused me to wrinkle my nose in disgust due to the fact that almost everyone overlooks it.

What's so great about Burning Paper, which was developed by Pixel and published by LOZC G. Amusements in 1993? Its name is a good starting point, I think--even if you know nothing about its gameplay.

Speaking of which, Burning Paper reminds me a lot of one of my favorite PSP titles, Patchwork Heroes (aka Hyakumanton no Bara Bara), when it comes to how it plays.

In that game, you control a brave citizen who volunteers to save his comrades from approaching warships by hacking them to pieces.



In Burning Paper, on the other hand, you're plopped into the boots of a guy who bears a shocking resemblance to the iconic Bomberman. For whatever reason, he's been tasked with protecting a series of buildings from an advancing horde of nasty-looking beings. (OK, so most of them are kind of cute. Still, it's clear they're up to no good.)

I'm sure all of this is explained in the game's instruction manual, but at the moment my grasp of the Japanese language isn't advanced enough for me to make sense of its "story" page.

(Regarding Burning Paper's manual, by the way, it's actually pretty impressive. I especially like all of the little illustrations that are sprinkled throughout--scroll down a couple of inches to see a few of them. And keep your eyes peeled for a "Manual Stimulation" post devoted to this booklet)

Going back a bit, Burning Paper's gameplay is at least somewhat explained in the game's opening cinematic. In a series of four static images, a scientist who could pass as a close relative of Mega Man's Dr. Light creates a concoction that appears to cause an adverse reaction (to put it mildly) to some nearby creepy-crawlies.

Thankfully, mister Bomberman wannabe is on hand and comes to the rescue. Or something like that.

Regardless, each and every stage in Burning Paper begins with the above-mentioned and familiarly besuited protagonist stuck atop a high-rise. These high-rises are covered in posters. Don't ask me why--again, I don't have a clue.

As a variety of vermin--including bugs, mice, moles and a bunch of other creatures I can't properly categorize--amble their way toward your lofty position, you use some sort of laser (provided by the faux Dr. Light, naturally) to cut pieces out of the placards below. Get the timing right, and the falling scraps crash into the oncoming baddies and send them into the Great Beyond.



It's a lot of fun, and more than a bit frantic. Plus, it looks rather nice and sounds lovely.

Actually, I'd say it sounds more than lovely. In fact, its soundtrack is pretty amazing considering I'd never heard of Pixel or LOZC G. Amusements before I became acquainted with Burning Paper.

Combine all of the above with the fact that, as I've hopefully made clear with the photos you see here, this title's outer box, cartridge and instruction manual are beautifully designed, and it should be easy to understand why the lack of Burning Paper love from the GameBoy-loving masses (if such a thing can be said to exist in 2016) confounds and confuses me.

Who knows, though, maybe posts like this will help bring it to the attention of more people who still get a kick out of old-school oddities.

Surprise! The Year of the GameBoy Continues: Bubble Ghost

OK, so every year seems to be the "Year of the GameBoy" around these parts. Sue me!

The fact is, I'm still madly in love with Nintendo's first portable system and its fine catalog of games. Sure, the latter includes a slew of crappy titles, but the same can be said of most handhelds. Plus, for me, the GameBoy's best gems are so enjoyable they make it easy to overlook its unplayable turds.

Speaking of my on-going love affair with this brick-like device (I'm talking about its design here, not its abilities), I've currently got a burr up my butt about whittling down the GameBoy portion of my lengthy gaming bucket list.

That's why I recently acquired the cart that serves as this post's focus, actually. Well, that played a role, at least. Also relevant: Bubble Ghost's adorable cover art.

And it is pretty darn adorable, wouldn't you agree?

To be honest, I'm not sure which piece of Bubble Ghost GameBoy box art I like more: the one created for Japan or the one created for North America and Europe.



Regardless, both are easy on the eyes. And both sport the same oh-so-appealing logo.

In terms of overall packaging, though, I've got to go with Japan's GameBoy port of the game. I like that it offers up random pops of color--such as the hint of teal at the top of its box front, or the vibrant pink that's splashed across its side flaps.

That same pink shows up as an accent color on the game box's back side, while a shockingly bright yellow blankets the remainder of its surface.

Similarly appealing hues can be found on every piece of Bubble Ghost's packaging. A case in point: the subdued, bubblegum-y pink featured on the game's instruction manual. Also, the banana yellow that covers its cartridge label.

OK, so the copy I recently bought and that's on display throughout this post isn't immaculate. I don't mind that as much as you might imagine. Sure, I'd love it if it were in perfect condition, but as long as it doesn't look like a dog chewed on it, I'm OK with a couple of creased manual pages or a few frayed box edges.



After all, what really matters is that the cartridge is works. And that's exactly the case here. Which is great, as Bubble Ghost is yet another of those intriguing titles that is perfectly suited to the GameBoy.

That probably sounds funny to those of you who know a bit about its history. For those of you who don't, Bubble Ghost began life in 1987 as an Atari ST game. In that release, and the numerous other PC ports that followed in the original's footsteps, players controlled the titular ghoul using a mouse.

A press of the space bar or shift key prompts the little guy to blow out a puff of air in those versions--which is important, as this is what allows you to guide the bubble mentioned in the game's title through the many halls of a haunted house.

In this GameBoy iteration (remake, really), developed by Opera House, the system's directional pad moves the pixelated specter and its face buttons produce the needed puff of air.

The latter control scheme works surprisingly well. Also, the GameBoy's archaic hardware doesn't do much to hold back Bubble Ghost's graphics or gameplay. In other words, this cartridge is well worth checking out if you're like me and you're still interested in playing decades-old handheld games.

See also: previous 'Year of the GameBoy' posts about Noobow, Peetan and Tumblepop.

Special delivery: Kaneko's Peetan for GameBoy

I don't think I've ever mentioned this here or anywhere else, but for some time now I've dutifully--some would say obsessively--maintained a list of "Holy Grail" GameBoy titles.

Basically, the games named on it are ones I desperately want to own before I kick the bucket.

The list used to be pretty long. I've been able to lop a number of games off of it in recent years, months and weeks, though, thanks to some timely perusals of eBay, Yahoo Japan Auctions and the like.



A few of the titles that have made the transition from my handy text file to my grubby little hands: Tumblepop, Totsugeki! Ponkotsu Tank, Taiyou no Tenshi Marlowe, Snow Bros. Jr., Painter Momopie, Noobow, Bubble Bobble Junior and Astro Rabby.

Oh, and Kaneko's Peetan.

Tracking down and acquiring a complete-in-box copy of that 1991, Japan-only release has been more difficult than you might think. After all, the game rarely pops up on any of the auction sites or online shops I eluded to earlier, and when it does, it usually goes for an obscene amount of money. (Here's a good example.)

So, when I came across the far-cheaper-than-four-hundred-dollars copy of Peetan showcased in the photos found throughout this post, you can bet I jumped on it.

It's not perfect. The colorful outer box is ever-so-slightly torn on its rear side, and the instruction manual is a bit crumpled. Still, it's complete and the game cartridge works like a charm, so I'm more than satisfied.

If you've never played, or even heard of, Peetan, the gist is that it's a lot like one of those old Game & Watch titles Nintendo produced during the 1980s. How so? Well, the whole she-bang is depicted in black and white (or black and green, if you're using an original GameBoy model), for starters. Also, each and every stage sticks to the confines of the brick-like handheld system's screen.

Beyond that, Peetan's gameplay is refreshingly simple. You control a mama chicken who patrols the top fifth of the play area. Below her are a trio of helpless chicks as well as a bunch of seesaws. Throwing a wrench into the works: a hungry mutt (or wolf) who has his eyes--and terrifying chops--set on the above-mentioned hatchlings.

As he stalks your offspring, you press the GameBoy's directional pad to move left or right and jab its A or B buttons to drop eggs that either knock the canid on the head or catapult your chicks toward safety (aka the top of the screen).

It's all rather stressful--something that probably isn't obvious in this Peetan gameplay footage--although the boppy tunes that percolate in the background help cut the tension a bit. (But only a bit.)

Would Peetan have earned a place on the "must buy" list mentioned early on in this post if its gameplay weren't so compelling and exciting? Honestly, I think it would have. Look at that cover art and tell me you wouldn't say the same--if you had any interest in collecting GameBoy titles, I mean.

This Inter State-made game's instruction manual's quite a looker, too, although I hesitate to compare it to its cartridge label. (Don't take my word for it; flip through the Peetan manual yourself.) Still, I'm sure you get the point: that Peetan's packaging is top notch all the way around.

What do you think? Also, have any of you played this old game? If so, what did you think of it?

See also: 'Nu-Bo, Nuubou, Noobow, New--oh, whatever...'

Nu-Bo, Nuubou, Noobow, New--oh, whatever...

I've wanted to own this curious puzzler-platformer since I first became aware of it three years ago. (You can read my thoughts on that introduction in "His name is Noobow and I want his game.")

A year after I made Noobow's acquaintance, I came across (and quickly snapped up, naturally) the complete-in-box copy of the game showcased in the photos below.

Considering the insane prices some other obscure Japanese GameBoy titles go for these days--search eBay for Phantasm or Peetan, if you'd like proof--I got this copy for an absolute steal.

Of course, I would've been willing to spend a lot more than I did to acquire Noobow, as its packaging is the definition of "top shelf."

I mean, just look at the photo above as well as the three that follow. Every edge of Noobow's box features a little illustration of the titular character, who was an anime and manga star back in the early 1990s. 

The adorable "Noobow waving" drawing seen in the snapshot below also appears on this game's cartridge label, by the way. 

Here's the back of Noobow's box. Actually, it's just two-thirds of the back of its box; I didn't include the rest of it because a partially removed price sticker covers its lower third. 

Don't worry, I'll get rid of it eventually. (I've read that Goo Gone works pretty well in these kinds of situations as long as you don't overdo it.) After I do, maybe I'll take a few new photos and add them to my Flickr photostream.

Thankfully, the game's instruction manual is in no need of that sort of attention.

Unsurprisingly, it's stuffed with a number of so-cute-I-could-puke illustrations.

If you'd like to see more of Noobow's aww-inspiring (FYI: I made that typo on purpose) instruction pamphlet, keep your eyes peeled for another installment of my long-running "Manual Stimulation" series.

In the meantime, have any of you fine folks played this 1992, Japan-only GameBoy title? If so, what are your impressions of it?

If you haven't, I'd highly recommend checking it out via emulation as soon as you're able. It won't blow your mind, but I'm pretty sure it'll bring a smile to your face.

Yet Another Year of the GameBoy: Tumblepop

To know me--or at least the part of me that enjoys playing video games--is to know that I love single-screen platformers.

If this is the first time you've come across that phrase, it's basically used to describe and categorize games like Bubble Bobble and Don Doko Don and Snow Bros.

Also, despite this genre's name, not all of the games included under its umbrella stick to a single screen. Taito's Parasol Stars is a good example.

The game I'm covering here, Data East's Tumblepop, is another example. Or at least its GameBoy port is, as some of its many, many stages scroll to cover more than that handheld's standard screen acreage.

That's not really the point of this post, though. (Don't worry, I'll talk about this portable version's gameplay, graphics and soundtrack in an upcoming write-up.) The point is to applaud the wonderful packaging Data East produced for the Japanese GameBoy port of Tumblepop.

I mean, seriously, look at the lovely piece of art that's plastered across the cover of Tumblepop's box.

OK, so I guess it's kind of weird that the game's title is a bit off-center, but I can deal with that when everything else is so on point.



I especially love how the pumpkin enemy's claws (or at least I think those claws belong to old pumpkin head) are gouging the ground before it--you know, because it's being sucked into a super-powered vacuum.

In case you weren't aware, the protagonists in Tumblepop wield vacuum cleaners and use them to suck up baddies and spit them back out at other baddies. As for why they do this, well, I'm not entirely sure, although I have a feeling the game or its manual explains it in some loosely acceptable manner.



The back of Tumblepop's box (see above and below) gives viewers a better look at this, er, weapon of mass de-suck-tion, in case you're curious.

Somewhat unfortunately, both Tumblepop's car label and manual cover feature the same piece of art that's found on the front of its box. Oh, well, at least it's a nice piece of art.

Also, at least the manual cover strips some of the color out of the art--which is pretty par for the course when it comes to Japanese GameBoy manuals. (Here is one more example, and here's yet another.) 

The interior of Tumblepop's instruction manual is anything but "par for the course," if you ask me. I especially like that the art style utilized for its illustrations is a bit different from the one utilized for its cover art. 

As for Tumblepop's in-game aesthetics, I'd describe them as acceptable. Obviously they're hurt by the fact that they're black and white (or black and green) rather than the full spectrum of the rainbow, but besides that they're also a bit ... basic? Bland?

That's not meant to cast aspersions on this portable port, by the way. Even with the somewhat uninspired visuals, Tumblepop for GameBoy is a fun little single-screen platformer.

Like I said earlier, I'll publish a write-up that more thoroughly critiques this title's gameplay shortly. In the meantime, you should consider heading over to my Flickr photostream, especially if you'd like to see a couple more photos of its lovely packaging.

See also: previous '(Another) Year of the GameBoy' posts

Another Year of the GameBoy: Seiken Densetsu

Like most people my age who have enjoyed video games since they were youngsters, I distinctly remember my reaction to Seiken Densetsu's unveiling in the early 1990s.

"It's like Final Fantasy and The Legend of Zelda blended together!"

(And in case you're wondering, yes, this is the exact same reaction I had to Secret of Mana's unveiling a few years later--which makes sense, as that game's Japanese title, as most of you surely know, is Seiken Densetsu 2.)

Did the reality of Seiken Densetsu live up to that fantasy once I finally was allowed to put it through its paces? I'd say so.

Sure, the game--renamed Final Fantasy Adventure in North America and Mystic Quest in Europe--isn't as deep as its 16-bit sequel, but it was more than deep enough for my teenage self. Hell, it's more than deep enough for my no-longer-teenage self.

Which should go a long way toward explaining why I finally picked up a complete-in-box copy of the Japanese version of this much-loved action RPG a couple of months ago.

I'm not sure why I waited so long, to be honest. I mean, just look at the photos included in this post. I'd want to own that box and cartridge and instruction manual even if I only kind of liked Seiken Densetsu's gameplay.

I especially love the little enemy illustrations that are hidden on the box's inner flaps. 

Seiken Densetsu's cartridge label is pretty darn nice, too--don't get me wrong. I guess it's the least exciting portion of this particular package thanks to the fact that it uses elements that also can be found on the front of the game's outer box, but I like that cart art is more minimalist.

As for this GameBoy title's manual, well, just take a gander at the snapshot above. A number of similarly great illustrations fill the remainder of its instruction booklet. 

Speaking of which, I'll do my best to scan and share--in another of my "Manual Stimulation" posts--the Seiken Densetsu manual in its entirety sooner rather than later. I know I've said that before, but I hope to make good on all of those promises shortly.

In the meantime, are any of you fans of Seiken Densetsu--or Mystic Quest or Final Fantasy Adventure? If so, please share your thoughts and memories in the comments section below.

See also: previous '(Another) Year of the GameBoy' and 'Nice Package!' posts