A few thoughts on WarioWare Gold now that I've beaten its story mode

Those of you who've played this entry in Nintendo's long-running WarioWare series--or any of its installments, really--must be thinking something like, I hope you don't consider beating this game's story mode to be an accomplishment!

You're right, of course. After all, you can finish WarioWare Gold's story mode in just a couple of hours if you don't drag your feet.

I'm patting myself on the back anyway, though--mostly because I managed to do the above plus a bit more over the last couple of weeks despite the fact that Octopath Traveler has been monopolizing my free time since it came out in mid-July.

In fact, I've now put about four hours into WarioWare Gold. Even that's nothing to brag about, admittedly, but it's been more than enough to time to get a good feel for the game, and that's what matters here. Speaking of which, keep reading for my initial thoughts on this zany 3DS title.

The cutscenes are awesome--In fact, I'd go so far as to say they're the highlight of the entire package. The main reason for that is they're funny. Surprisingly funny, even. My favorite is the one starring 5-Volt (9-Volt's mom). In it, she becomes obsessed with a buff dude named Mr. Sparkles, who sells special frying pans--they're so heavy you basically have to become a bodybuilder to use them--via cheesy infomercials.

I actually love the voice acting--And that's not something you'll hear me say all that often. No joke, I usually either don't care about voice acting or actively dislike it (to the point that I turn it off, assuming that's an option). I adore the voice acting in WarioWare Gold, though--which is a good thing, as the game's crammed full of it. I'm especially smitten with Wario and the new addition to the franchise, the spunky and heavily browed Lulu.

I wish the game didn't force you to unlock so much of its content--I know this is typical of the series. Or at least that's what I've heard. (I've only played a handful of WarioWare titles to date: Smooth Moves and D.I.Y.) Whatever the case may be, I'd prefer it if this entry didn't make unlocking its "souvenir" mini-games, like Mewtroid 2 and Super Pyoro, such a chore. To do that, you have to rack up points playing the title's story and challenge modes--usually over and over again. Then you plop those points into a capsule machine and pray something interesting pops out. In other words, depending on your luck, you may get Micro Golf or Pro Bowl early on or you may have to wait quite some time to gain access to them.

I'm not sure how many more hours I'll put into it--Don't get me wrong, I've thoroughly enjoyed what I've experienced so far. That said, I'm not entirely convinced the rest of what's on offer here is going to be enough to keep me coming back for more than a few additional hours. If I could freely play all of its bonus mini-games, that'd probably extend things at least a little while longer. As things stand, though, I have a feeling my time with WarioWare Gold is about to come to a close.

Even if I quit right now, I won't regret my purchase--Probably. I think. Maybe? Why the hesitation? I don't often spend $30-plus on a game and then stop playing it after just a few days. Given that, I won't be surprised if I slightly regret buying WarioWare Gold down the road. Still, I had an absolute blast during the four or so hours I've spent with this game, so I'll do what I can to keep those feelings of remorse to an absolute minimum.

Have any of you played WarioWare Gold? If so, what did you think of it?

See also: 'five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Sushi Striker' and '10 things I adore about Octopath Traveler'

Ten things I'd change about Octopath Traveler if given the chance

My last two posts hopefully make it pretty clear I'm enjoying the hell out of Octopath Traveler at the moment.

As much as I love it, though, I don't think it's perfect. In fact, I'd make the following changes to the game if someone gave me the green light to do so.

1. I'd add a Bravely Default-like slider to the "settings" menu that lets you adjust the frequency of random battles. Being able to turn off random battles--or even increase how often they're triggered--was a real lifesaver, not to mention sanity-saver, while playing Bravely Default. Why Octopath Traveler's developers decided against including something similar here, I'll never understand.

2. I'd allow players to alter the game's difficulty on the fly, too. Again, like Bravely Default--or even the recently released Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey Redux. Both of those 3DS titles let you switch between easy, normal, and hard (or casual, standard, and expert, in the case of Strange Journey Redux) modes as you wish. Not only isn't that possible while playing Octopath Traveler, but it's not even possible to choose a difficulty level at the game's start. As such, if you run up against an area or boss that's too hard for you, you've got no choice but to grind your party into better shape or improve your battle strategy.

Illustration by carrotchipper

3. I'd make weapons visibly distinct during battle. I've loved being able to see my party member's weapons in battle since I first played through the original Final Fantasy shortly after it was released in my neck of the woods. In fact, I stuck with that game's "coral sword" long past its sell-by date because I thought it was cool to wield a pink blade. So imagine my disappointment when I realized I'd never get to see Octopath Traveler's "bear cleaver" or "war hammer."

4. I'd include a few more unique secondary jobs. In a way, I appreciate that the folks who called the shots during Octopath Traveler's development decided to cap the game's secondary jobs at 12. It's easy for RPGs to go overboard in this area and become bloated, confusing messes. Still, I wouldn't have minded even a couple of additional career options for my hard-working crew--especially since I consider a few of the included ones to be borderline pointless.

5. I'd shorten its battles. How much shorter would I make them? I'm not sure. Slightly shorter, at the very least. And I'd focus on Octopath Traveler's boss battles in particular. Yes, I feel accomplished and relieved and all sorts of other emotions after finally toppling one of this game's end-of-chapter baddies, but I'd sacrifice a bit of that elation for tussles that occasionally last less than 30 minutes.

6. I'd let people save anywhere. This is one of Octopath Traveler's more confounding omissions, if you ask me. I know the game's supposed to be a throwback, but this is going a bit too far considering nearly all modern RPGs allow players to save where they want and when they want. Plus, you encounter the little pedestals that serve as Octopath Traveler's "save spots" every few steps, so why not just remove that visual clutter from the landscape and replace it with something that's a lot more user-friendly?

7. I'd toss in a few vehicles. I know what some of you are thinking: vehicles aren't needed in this game because it lets you "fast travel." It only lets you do so between cities, though, which often means you still have to hoof it a bit if you want to explore a cave or hunt for a shrine. Even if Octopath Traveler allowed you to plop your party anywhere on the map with a nudge of the analog stick and the press of a button, I'd still want access to a handful of "vehicles"--like maybe a boat or carriage or horse--so I could buzz around the landscape when the mood strikes.

Illustration by punkratkid

8. I'd give players more money for winning battles. Or I'd make weapons and armor cheaper. As things stand, it's easy to feel "poor" while playing Octopath Traveler--especially as you toil through its first half or so. In fact, I mostly resorted to stealing armor and weapons and items from unsuspecting townsfolk during my first 30 or 40 hours with the game because of this. Maybe that's the point? Or maybe this is Octopath Traveler's way of telling me to spend more time grinding? Either way, I'd prefer it if the gear sold by this title's many shopkeepers were a little more "wallet friendly."

9. I'd make it so the lantern used in caves and grottoes is upgradable. Hell, I'd even force players to find or buy this accessory before they could comfortably probe Octopath Traveler's many dark and dank caverns. This starter lamp would be pretty dim, too, and the only way to make it brighter and more useful would be to replace it or upgrade it in some form or fashion.

10. I'd increase the game's wackiness quotient. Although Octopath Traveler occasionally shows it's got a nutty side (Olberic's ability to challenge nearly any NPC to a one-on-one duel is a prime example), it's usually a pretty staid experience. How would I make it a little zanier? By tossing in a couple of kooky, out-of-left-field bosses, for starters. I'd also add in some silly weapon classes--like the bells and harps that pop up in a number of Final Fantasy titles.

Would you alter Octopath Traveler in any particular ways if given the chance? If so, what changes would you make?

See also: 'ten things I adore about Octopath Traveler' and 'five more (kind of silly) things I adore about Octopath Traveler'

Five things I don't love about Sushi Striker

If you read my last post, you know what I love about Sushi Striker.

As much as I adore this recently released 3DS and Switch game, though, it's not perfect.

In fact, a handful of its components could be called honest-to-goodness turn-offs. They're not so terrible you should pass on the game, of course--I still put more than 51 hours into it, after all--but they're definitely occasional sources of annoyance.

So, which components am I talking about here? Keep reading for all the not-so-gory details.

Sushi Striker does a horrible job of explaining how things work--I don't know if some of this information was "lost in localization" or if it wasn't included in the Japanese version either. Whatever the case may be, Sushi Striker drops the ball--or maybe I should say plate--when it comes to educating players about many of its rules and gameplay quirks. It's nothing a little trial and error, not to mention a few trips to an FAQ, can't fix, but it's a bit frustrating all the same--especially after you become aware of just how much text has been stuffed into this fast-paced puzzler.

It also doesn't make it clear which "Sushi Sprites" you can and can't recruit at any point in time--This is a big deal because not only are these adorable (at least at first) Pokémon-esque creatures one of the highlights of Sushi Striker, but they're also often the key to your success. The reason: they provide you with various abilities that can give you a leg up against your sushi-slinging opponents. To get these cuties to switch sides and join your campaign against the evil "Empire," though, you have to impress them in battle. I like that take on the "gotta catch 'em all" shtick a lot, actually, but I also find one aspect of it irksome. You see, it's not unusual to come across Sushi Sprites early on that you can't recruit until later in the story. Sushi Striker never tells you that, though, so unless you scan the web for this information, you may waste a lot of time trying to woo creatures that aren't, well, woo-able.

You have to put a good number of hours into the game before you unlock local or online battles--Get this: I had to play Sushi Striker for between five and 10 hours (sorry, I can't remember the exact amount of time) before I unlocked the ability to engage in local battles. Then I had to play another five to 10 hours to unlock the ability to engage in online battles. So, basically, it takes as many as 20 hours to open up a pair of modes that should be available right from the start--in my opinion, at least. On a related note: I have to imagine this is the main reason it's so difficult to find strangers to duel while playing the 3DS version of Sushi Striker.

It's nearly impossible to find a stranger to battle on line in the 3DS version--This may be the worst offender of them all. At least you can search the internet for help with the rest of the stumbling blocks mentioned here. There's nothing you can do about the lack of other players looking to take part in online battles. In the 50-plus hours I've spent with Sushi Striker so far, I've successfully completed exactly two such battles--and both were against the same person. Admittedly, they were laggy as hell and as such not a whole lot of fun, but I'd still pop into the "Arena" (where these matches take place) now and then if finding a competitor weren't such a pain.

Some of the star requirements are completely ridiculous--When you first start your way through Sushi Striker, it's easy to be fooled into thinking it's going to be a rather straightforward and superficial adventure. Match plates, stack them, and throw them at your opponent--bada-bing, bada-boom! In reality, there's a lot more to the game than that. For example, you're given stars if you meet certain conditions, like, "use five skills or more and win." Collect enough of them and you're granted access to secret areas that provide you with the best (or at least rarest) Sushi Sprites around. The thing is, some of these requirements are ridiculous. Oh, well, nothing worth having comes easy, as the saying goes.

Five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Nintendo's Sushi Striker

When Nintendo unveiled Sushi Striker this time last year, I was certain it would be my cup of tea.

I mean, it was a puzzler, it featured a selection of (cartoonishly) beefy dudes, and it was being made for the 3DS--if that's not the recipe for my kind of game, I don't know what is.

My interest in Sushi Striker plummeted, however, after I played through the demo that hit the Switch eShop a couple of months ago. Not because I thought it sucked, mind you; in fact, I loved many aspects of it, including its colorful art, spirited soundtrack, and wacky (if sometimes longwinded) cutscenes.

So what didn't I love about it? Its too-frantic gameplay.



Although I've been a fan of puzzle games since I broke in my GameBoy with the freebie classic-to-be Tetris, I've never really enjoyed ones that demand Shazam-esque reflexes. I usually prefer puzzlers that allow players to contemplate their next move at least a little bit.

As such, Sushi Striker and I got off on the wrong foot thanks to the at-first frenzied action at the heart of its demo.

I say "at first" here because while I found the demo's sushi-matching gameplay loop too hectic early on, I actually grew kind of comfortable with it after putting some time into the full game. (Yes, I bought the 3DS version even though the Switch demo disappointed me.)

In fact, I grew so comfortable with it that I played Sushi Striker almost nonstop after it arrived on my doorstep. And not only that, but I played it right through to the end--a journey that took me just over 50 hours.

What prompted this out-of-nowhere turnaround? Here are five reasons:



1. Sushi Striker's cutscenes are surprisingly enjoyable--And that's saying something, as a ton of them have been crammed into this game. In fact, you encounter one after nearly every round. Most are mercifully short, but a bunch of brief interludes could still prove annoying--or worse--if they were pointless or handled poorly, right? Thankfully, I doubt many would describe Sushi Striker's intermissions as anything even close to boring. They're so goofy that all but the most stone-hearted are sure to grin while watching them. (Don't worry, gloomy Gusses, they're skippable.)

2. It's got a wonderfully goofy cast of characters--This is another reason I had a hard time hating Sushi Striker's seemingly endless cutscenes. Every one features at least a single character who gives new meaning to the word colorful. There's the brawny, tan, and tattooed General Kodiak, his pinheaded (but still impressively buff) minions, your hapless rival Kojiro, the "soosh"-loving hipster Rio (he even has the black-framed glasses to prove it), and a slew of others. All of them have personality to spare, so even if they start to get on your nerves a bit, you'll probably do as I did and continue to guiltily enjoy them rather than race ahead to your next skirmish.



3. The sushi-flinging action at its core eventually becomes deliriously instinctual--There's no question this game's sushi battles are frantic at the start. Everything moves so fast that early on you're more likely to find them frustrating than fun. Thankfully, those negative vibes slowly fade into the background after you successfully finish a handful of stages--or at least that was the case for me. By the time you advance to Sushi Striker's second or third area, you'll be wondering how you ever found it so overwhelming. At a certain point, you move your stylus (if you're playing the 3DS version) to match, stack, and toss sushi plates almost on instinct. That's when the game hits its stride and shows just how exhilarating it can be once you get the hang of it.

4. It's pretty deep, too--Not only is Sushi Striker's gameplay delightfully frenetic, it's also surprisingly deep. At first, it's difficult to think beyond matching like-colored plates from the four conveyor-belt lanes in front of you. If you want to beat the best opponents in the game, though, or if you want to access its many hidden areas (most of which reward you with special "Sushi Sprite" companions when conquered), you have to bone up on things like the jubilee meter, the helpful skills provided by the aforementioned Sushi Sprites, the lane-drive gears that let you alter the speed of your conveyor belts, and more. It's a lot to take in, admittedly, and the game doesn't do a great job of explaining most of it to you, but you've got to wrap your head around it if you're to have any hope of reaching Sushi Striker's credit roll.



5. The soundtrack complements all of the sushi-matching perfectly--That's not to say it sounds like something you'd hear in a sushi restaurant. It sure puts you in the mood to sling some plates of Japan's national dish (or maybe not) at the evildoers who get in your way, though. As you might expect, the tunes here are the definition of upbeat. However, they're not as syrupy sweet as most of the songs that support puzzlers these days. This is due, in large part, to the crunchy electric guitar riffs woven into nearly every track. Combined with the plucky piano runs and techno-y blips and blops (technical terms, for the unaware) that pop up nearly as often, they make every Sushi Striker encounter a breathtaking blast.

Have any of you played Sushi Striker? If so, what do you think of it? Share your thoughts in the comments section of this post.

If you own a 3DS, you need to buy and play Pocket Card Jockey right now

And if you don't own a 3DS, you need to get one as soon as possible and then use it to play Pocket Card Jockey.

I know everyone's moved on to the Switch. So have I, for the most part. I also know this game hit the North American, European, and Australian 3DS eShop eons ago--in May 2016, to be exact. (It hit the Japanese 3DS eShop all the way back in July 2013.)

Given all of the above, I understand why Pocket Card Jockey isn't exactly trending on Twitter right now. The thing is, I doubt Pocket Card Jockey ever trended on Twitter, or lit up the sales charts--even when it first came out and garnered a good amount of praise.

So why am I writing about it now, more than two years after it made a splash (or maybe I should say plop, given the lack of hype surrounding its launch)? And why am I using yet another blog post to push people to give the game a try? Because I started playing it again last weekend while visiting my husband's family in Ohio and it reminded me of Pocket Card Jockey's brilliance.

I'd intended to play something else (Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey Redux, for the curious), but when I finally opened my trusty "flame red" 3DS I returned to my long-ignored Pocket Card Jockey save file instead.

At first, I stuck with the game's "training" mode, which basically allows you to play quick rounds of golf solitaire. Within a few hours, though, I cautiously moved over to the main mode. I didn't fare too well early on, to be honest, but a quick look at the "How to Succeed in Pocket Card Jockey Without Really Trying" guide I published a couple of years ago turned things around pretty quickly.

I'm currently 20 hours into my latest obsessive stint with Pocket Card Jockey. The first such stint began in 2013 immediately after the Japanese version's release and lasted for more than 60 hours. The second started in 2016 following the North American version's release and lasted an additional 60-plus hours.

In other words, I've now devoted somewhere north of 140 hours to this $6.99 game over the course of five years.

What's the pull for me? The main attraction (or maybe I should say mane attraction?) is that it's a whole lot of fun. For some reason, I find the combination of solitaire, horse racing, adorable graphics, a top-tier soundtrack, and surprisingly intriguing--and at times shockingly dark--interactions with the game's curious cast of characters to be a winning one.

And then, of course, there's the fact that this Game Freak-developed title is beyond addictive. You know how it's impossible to walk away from Tetris until you've completed about 100 levels? Well, Pocket Card Jockey is imbued with a similar quality. But instead of telling yourself, "just one more round," you're more likely to mutter, "just one more horse"--as it's entirely possible to take a steed from colt or filly to retirement in an hour or so.

Still not convinced to give this hidden gem a try? Maybe my Pocket Card Jockey review will do the trick. Or the fact that I declared it to be my favorite game of 2016 might sway you.

Whatever you need to do to convince yourself to buy Pocket Card Jockey, do it. And do it now. You never know when Nintendo's going to pull the plug on the 3DS eShop, and believe me when I say you don't want to go through life without experiencing this delightfully odd game.

Five things that made it really easy for me to put more than 60 hours into The Alliance Alive

If you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr, you may have seen me trumpet the fact that I finished The Alliance Alive a short time ago--after putting more than 60 hours into it.

Actually, you may have seen me celebrate the same accomplishment in one of my most recent posts here, too.

Regardless, you know now. And, really, as thrilled as I am that I reached The Alliance Alive's credit roll and devoted so many hours to it along the way, I'm even more thrilled that I enjoyed pretty much every one of the nearly 4,000 minutes I spent with this portable RPG.

Why? Here are the first five reasons that came to mind:

Awakening "battle arts" is completely addictive--If you're not quite up to speed on The Alliance Alive's inner workings, "battle arts" are special attacks or moves that are tied to specific classes of weapons. If you give one of your characters a spear, for example, one of her battle arts may be "Charge," which causes her to race toward and through an enemy. While using that art, you might "awaken" another one, like "Spear Fishing" or "Triple Strike." The key word here is might. There's seemingly no rhyme or reason for when a character will learn a new battle art. You may go a number of encounters without awakening even one, or you may awaken three or four in a single tussle. I know some players find the randomness annoying, but I love it. You never know when a new--and likely more fabulous--move is going to fall into your lap.

The soundtrack is sublime--And not only that, but it's surprisingly varied. Some tracks, like "Rainy World" and "Sealed Museum," are fairly ambient in nature, while others, like "Clockwork City Gearlock" and "Fiery World," pulsate and soar thanks to plucky piano bits and pleasantly synth-y strings. (My favorite of them all is "Flight," which pops up later in the game but is well worth the wait.) The brilliance of The Alliance Alive soundtrack came as no surprise to me, by the way, as I knew going in that Masashi Hamauzu had composed the bulk of it. Some of his previous credits: Chocobo no Fushigi na Dungeon for the original PlayStation, Final Fantasy X for the PS2, and this title's precursor, The Legend of Legacy. (Psst! You can listen to The Alliance Alive's entire soundtrack here.)

The "water devil dens" provide the game with just the right amount of toughness and creepiness--Truth be told, a lot of The Alliance Alive's content could be called "standard fare." That's not a complaint or a critique; it's a simple statement of fact. What am I talking about here? The locations you explore while wandering the game's expansive map are a good example, as are the beasts you battle along the way. I wouldn't make the same claim about its "water devil dens," though. These optional dungeons dot the landscape and can be accessed via malevolent-looking whirlpools. As you might expect based on their name, they're teeming with some of the nastiest baddies in the whole game. The best thing about these "dens," in my opinion: they give The Alliance Alive a sense of otherworldly tension that helps it break free from the "typical JRPG" mold the game's developers seemingly used to create a good chunk of the rest of this sprawling adventure. (The next best thing about them: the creepy lines enemies spout before battles begin.)

Once it finally clicked, The Alliance Alive's guild system proved to be surprisingly cool (not to mention helpful)--Another aspect of The Alliance Alive that helps it steer clear of "cookie cutter" territory are the guild towers that stick out from the surrounding environment like giant, Victorian weather vanes. Early on, it's hard to make heads or tails of these structures and their inhabitants. The game attempts to explain things, but none of it clicked with me until I was a good 20 or so hours into my playthrough. Which is a shame, because once you "get" The Alliance Alive's guild system, you realize what a cool game changer it is. The gist: if you're within a certain range of a guild tower, it may support you in battle. One type stuns all enemies for a turn. Another wallops them with a massive attack. Yet another weakens their defenses. That's awesome in and of itself, of course, but it becomes even more so after you build a network of towers and you come within range of a number of them at the same time. And that's just scratching the surface of the benefits these spires offer players who devote time and energy to them. (To learn more, check out this siliconera.com article.)

It's got a character who fights enemies while sitting inside a duck-shaped "power suit"--And not only that, but she eventually fits it with a floaty so it can cross pools of lava. This character, named Tiggy, isn't the only appealing one in The Alliance Alive, by the way. A few others include a "daemon" lady with fox-like ears and tail, a "beastfolk" that looks to be a cross between a lizard and an antelope, a loud-mouthed penguin, and a youthful, hard-nosed businessman (businessboy?) who uses a wheelchair and wears a pot with a teddy bear strapped to it on his head. That's a long way of saying this game has a colorful cast of characters. Sadly, you can't add that last one--the one with the bear stuck to his noggin--to your party, but believe me when I say you're sure to like a lot of the beings that populate The Alliance Alive despite that unfortunate oversight.

That's not the extent of what I found appealing about The Alliance Alive during the 60-plus hours I devoted to it, mind you. I also loved how its non-player characters change what they say to you based on who's currently serving as your main party member, for example. And I similarly enjoyed being allowed to speed up battles with the press of a button.

Is there any room for improvement after all of the above has been taken into consideration? Definitely. As colorful as its cast of characters is, there's no question it could be even more diverse. (Every human in The Alliance Alive seems to be white, straight, and cisgender.) And I would've killed to be able to add some of its more interesting NPCs, like the aforementioned boy with the stuffed animal attached to his skull, the Guild Girls (see above), and Princess Yukiha to my party, even if only after the end credits rolled.

Don't let those few shortcomings keep you from starting through The Alliance Alive yourself. I found it to be an almost shockingly special title, all things considered, and as such I can't recommend it strongly enough to anyone who still has a 3DS and who typically enjoys role-playing games.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm so obsessed with Miitopia that I've got to quit it cold turkey

It isn't often that I find myself having to quit a game cold turkey to escape its clutches and move on to other titles.

In fact, the only games that put me in that awkward position before Miitopia were Animal Crossing (all of them) and Pocket Card Jockey.

Oh, and maybe Tomodachi Life.

Considering Miitopia shares a bit of Tomodachi Life's DNA, I guess I should have seen this current bout of obsession coming.

Instead, before I bought it, I imagined I'd traipse through Miitopia in a breezy 20 or 30 hours and then turn my attention to all of the Switch games that are piling up in front of me.

Well, I blew past the 30-hour mark some time ago. This weekend, I blew past the 70-hour mark.

To say Miitopia is one of those games that regularly prompts you to say, "just one more level," may be the understatement of the year.



Here, it's not simply about beating more more level; it's also about leveling up your party members one more time, or unlocking one more weapon or outfit, or wrapping up one more post-game quest.

Every time I think I'm satisfied with where I'm at or what I've accomplished, another outfit, weapon, or quest pops up to entice me to play for a few more minutes. And of course those "few more minutes" almost always stretch out to 30 and beyond.

I'd be fine with that if I thought the end was near, but I have a feeling it's not. As things stand, I'm pretty sure I could put at least another 30 hours into the game, and that's assuming I find a way to ignore the three post-game quests Miitopia offers up each day (after you've beaten its main campaign).

So, rather than spend the next week or two finishing Miitopia's last real chunk of content, I'm going to put it on the back burner--perhaps for good, perhaps nots--and turn my attention to the many Switch and Vita games I've been itching to play since early last month.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation like this, by the way--where you were so obsessed with a game you had to yank yourself away from it? If so, please share your story in the comments section below.

My most popular posts of 2017

Before I start cranking out forward-looking content for 2018, let's take one last look at 2017.

Specifically, here are this blog's 12 most popular posts from last year (arranged in order of most views to least). If you see a headline that doesn't look familiar, check it out. Who knows, you may have missed a real gem.

1. Five overlooked GameBoy Advance games you need to play as soon as possible

2. Ten questions with the guy chiefly responsible for the English fan translation of Ripened Tingle's Balloon Trip of Love



3. The best 3DS eShop games you've never played (or, 10 overlooked 3DS eShop games you need to try as soon as possible)

4. Nice Package! (Mizzurna Falls, PlayStation)

5. If Nintendo put me in charge of a GameBoy Classic Edition, here are the 30 games it would include

6. Five favorites: Famicom leading ladies



7. A few thoughts on Golf Story for Switch now that I've put about eight hours into it

8. Five overlooked Nintendo DS games you need to play as soon as possible

9. Nice Package! (Bubble Bobble, Famicom Disk System)

10. Don't mind me, I'm just completely obsessed with Nintendo's Mother at the moment



11. In honor of the 28th anniversary of GameBoy's Japanese release, here are a handful of my all-time favorite GB games

12. My 10 Most Influential Games: Balloon Kid (GameBoy)

I'm not finished with my "most influential games" series, by the way, although I did forgot about it for a while. The same is true of my "Welcome to WonderSwan World" series. Look for new entries for both to be published soon.

See also: my most popular posts of 2016

And the winners of the 2064: Read Only Memories Vita codes are...

I promised I'd be giving away four digital codes for the Vita version of 2064: Read Only Memories today, and that's what I'm going to do.

Rather than prolong the suspense, let's just get right to it. Here are the winners:

• Felipe Martins
• Sera R
• Shiftyweb
• ZACH

If you're one of the readers named above, leave a comment here by, say, the end of the day on Wednesday, and then we'll figure out the best way for me to send you the code.

Sorry to those of you who didn't win. I'd give you all codes for this intriguing game, if I could.

A few thoughts on VA-11 HALL-A (Vita) now that I've put nearly five hours into it

Besides Super Mario Odyssey and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, most of the games I've played in recent weeks and months try their best to sound, look, and even feel like ones that were released in the 1980s and 1990s.

Golf Story and even the Project Octopath Traveler demo for the Switch are two examples. The Vita port of Undertale, which I finally started a couple of weekends ago, is another. And then, of course, there are the just-hit-the-PlayStation-Store pair of 2064: Read Only Memories and Papers, Please. (OK, so I've yet to start those last two titles, but I'm planning to do so in short order.)

As successful as those games are at replicating their "retro" forebearers, VA-11 HALL-A outdoes all of them. How so? Find out by reading my impressions of this saucy, cyberpunk-y visual novel.



I adore the game's PC-98-esque graphics--I've loved the PC-98 "look" ever since I first traipsed across it many moons ago. (If you've never heard of the PC-98 before now, it's a lineup of Japanese 16-bit and 32-bit personal computers that dominated the domestic market in the 1980s and 1990s.) To see what I mean, check out this old NeoGAF thread, which is crammed full of luscious PC-98 game screenshots. Anyway, VA-11 HALL-A does magnificent job of looking like it was made during that era, and I couldn't be happier about it.



It has a glorious soundtrack--If I had to single out one aspect of VA-11 HALL-A as being head and shoulders above the rest, its soundtrack would be it. It's filled with the kind of music you want to listen to even when you're not playing the game. I don't know if it should be described as synthwave, synth-pop, ambient, or something else entirely, but it doesn't really matter. Calling it "blissful" is as spot-on as any other label you could slap on it. (The complete VA-11 HALL-A soundtrack is available on line, if you're curious.)

The story is surprisingly captivating--I honestly didn't expect to enjoy VA-11 HALL-A's story as much as I'm currently enjoying it. I expected it to be weird, and kind of wacky, too, but I didn't think it would be as interesting and even poignant as it is. As things stand, I never seem to tire of this game's nearly endless stream of text. I've rarely, if ever, said that about a visual novel before I tackled this one, which to me suggests VA-11 HALL-A is a pretty special example of the genre.



It seems I may be playing it incorrectly--Or at least too rigidly. Sadly, I didn't realize that until just the other day--which means I've been playing the game this way for more than four hours. Oh, well, I may as well continue along this current path until I reach VA-11 HALL-A's end credits. I'll do my best to approach my digital bartending duties as designer Christopher Ortiz seemingly intended during any subsequent playthroughs. Which means I won't be so robotic about always serving patrons what they say they want. (I thought that was the point, but it sounds like you're supposed to be creative in how you respond to customers' drink requests.)

Have you played some version of VA-11 HALL-A since it first released (for PC) back in 2016? If so, what are your impressions of it?

See also: a few thoughts on Golf Story, Super Mario Odyssey, and Yomawari: Night Alone

A few thoughts on the Nintendo Switch now that I've spent a couple of weeks with one

It's been about two weeks since I got a Switch, so I figure now is as good a time as any to share my thoughts on Nintendo's latest piece of gaming hardware.

Something I need to note before I continue: I've only used my Switch in handheld mode so far. In fact, I haven't even taken its dock, which lets you to play games on a TV, out of the box. I'll probably free it from its (beautifully decorated) cardboard prison around the time I get my hands on Super Mario Odyssey, but even then I can't see myself using it all that often. That's how much I prefer playing games "on the go" (which in my case usually means while sitting on the couch or lying in bed) to staring at a TV screen these days.

Anyway, I've spent a good amount of time with the rest of the Switch hardware since it arrived on my doorstep late last month, so here are my impressions of the main unit, Joy-Cons, user interface, eShop and more.



It's smaller than I imagined--For whatever reason, before I bought my Switch I was under the impression it was pretty bulky in its portable form. So, imagine my surprise when it turned out to be the opposite of huge. No one is going to call the thing "tiny," of course, but it's plenty small for the occasional car and plane trip. Would my tune be different if I commuted with my Switch? Perhaps, but the fact is I've only ever played my original 3DS on the bus. I've never once taken either of my 3DS XL systems or my pink-and-white Vita to work, and I'm pretty sure the same will be true of my Switch by the time its hold on me, or the portion of my life that's spent using public transportation, comes to a close.

The huge screen is a huge plus--Truth be told, I've never been a size queen. In fact, even now I'd rather play games on my original "flame red" 3DS system than on my pink-and-white 3DS XL. Still, I'd be lying if I said I wished the Switch's screen were smaller. It's nice to not have to squint while reading text, for example. Granted, I don't think the increased screen size--and improved screen resolution--will really hit me until I play a game like Super Mario Odyssey or The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild on it. Assuming I react to that experience like I think I will, I may never hook up my thus-far-ignored Switch dock.



I like how solid it feels--This is the aspect of the Switch that surprises me the most, to be perfectly honest. Before I held the system in my hands, I thought the Joy-Cons might seem a bit loose or wobbly. Thankfully, they don't. In fact, I often forget the controllers are detachable--that's how snug everything feels when Switch is in its handheld form. I know some folks will say, "of course the Switch is solid--Nintendo made it!" Well, Nintendo also made the original 3DS hardware that features a floppy hinge and a scratch-prone upper screen, so one should be forgiven for worrying the Switch, with its far more complicated design, may follow in its footsteps.

The UI is sleek and snappy, but still leaves something to be desired--Although I'm a big fan of the user interfaces Nintendo's designers created for the 3DS, Wii and Wii U, I appreciate that they went with something a little sexier and a little less kiddie or cutesy this time around. Plus, the Switch's user interface (UI) isn't just sleek; it's also noticeably faster than the Wii and 3DS UIs. (I can't speak to the speed of the Wii U user interface, as I've sadly never experienced it.) Unfortunately, a game system's UI needs to be more than elegant and brisk. It also needs to be functional, and that's not how I would describe the Switch UI at the moment. Why can't I move my game and demo icons? Why can't I display them in various ways (other than in a straight line), or make folders to contain them? And why can't I change the background of the system's home menu like I can on my 3DS? I have a feeling  an upcoming update will allow all of this--and hopefully more--but, boy, it sure would've been nice if it had allowed it right out of the box.



I hope the eShop gets an overhaul (and soon)--Much like the Switch UI, the system's eShop is sleek and snappy--and not entirely satisfying. I'm sure some people think the 3DS eShop is a jumbled mess, but I'm not one of them. I like that it offers visitors plenty of opportunities to find and discover games and demos. You don't have to know exactly what you're looking for when you make your way to the 3DS eShop. With the Switch eShop, though, you've got a tab for recent releases, a tab for best sellers and that's about it. If you want anything else, you have to search for it. Again, I'm pretty confident this will change in the future and the Switch eShop will become quite a bit more dynamic, but the question is: when? Here's hoping Nintendo gives us a more user-friendly, and publisher-friendly, digital store soon.

Now that I've shared my thoughts and feelings on the Switch, what are yours? Those of you who've spent at least a little time with the system: do you agree with what I've said here, or do you disagree? Regardless, let me know your opinions on the matter in the comments section of this post.

See also: 'A few thoughts on Golf Story for Switch now that I've put about eight hours into it'

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

I tried the Hey! Pikmin demo and I think I liked it

When Nintendo first revealed this handheld Pikmin spinoff last September, I immediately added it to my ever-growing (or maybe I should say never-shrinking) "buy these 3DS games as soon as is humanly possible" list.

Later, when it slipped out that Hey! Pikmin's developer wasn't an internal Nintendo team but the forever-maligned Arzest--makers of Yoshi's New Island, among other titles of debatable quality--my interest flagged a bit. It diminished even more after early hands-on impressions of the game made their way onto the Internet.

None of the above caused me to give up on Hey! Pikmin entirely, mind you. Even when my (uninformed) opinion of it was at its lowest, I still expected I'd pick up a copy once my bank account allowed.

Fast forward to this weekend, when I played through the Hey! Pikmin demo Nintendo recently--finally!--dropped onto the 3DS eShop. The gist of my reaction to that bite-sized version of the game: I'm definitely buying it, and sooner rather than later.

As for what tossed me back onto the Hey! Pikmin hype train, here are the first four reasons that came to mind:

The game looks great when splashed across a pair of 3DS screens--OK, so "splashed across" probably is the wrong phrase to use here, especially if your 3DS is of the LL or XL variety. If you use one of the original 3DS models, or one of the smaller New 3DS systems, though, Hey! Pikmin looks superb on its screens. Which shouldn't be a surprise, really. 3DS screenshots often disappoint visually when viewed on a computer or phone, but the games they represent almost always appear many times more impressive when experienced in motion and on the "real deal." At any rate, the hand-painted art style Arzest employed while producing this platformer is beyond pleasant. It reminds of the aforementioned Yoshi's New Island, but improves upon that title's aesthetic in pretty much every regard.

I already love its rather deliberate, exploration-focused gameplay--Early on, Hey! Pikmin's gameplay stumped me. It looked like a side-scrolling platformer, but that didn't really gel with strategic nature of the series' other entries. Thankfully, everything becomes abundantly clear once you start plodding your way through this portable Pikmin offshoot. Basically, it is a side-scroller, but it doesn't require players to hop from platform to platform, à la Super Mario Bros. Instead, you move Captain Olimar to the left or right with the 3DS' circle pad--or its directional pad or even A and Y buttons--while a tap of the systems' touch pad launches the Pikmin that follow in his wake to and fro. (You do the latter to collect or break objects, or to damage enemies.) I know it sounds clumsy, but I found it to be both competent and comfortable while completing the demo.

No 3D? Doesn't bother me a bit--I know some folks gets riled up when a 3DS game doesn't support the system's stereoscopic 3D feature, but I'm not one of them. Although I understand where they're coming from, and I wish every release made for Nintendo's second dual-screened handheld allowed people to customize their experience in such a way, I never turn on 3D while playing 3DS titles. Plus, adding stereoscopic 3D effects to Hey! Pikmin wouldn't have made much sense, as most of its action takes place on the portable console's lower screen.

I also can't say I mind being forced to use the 3DS' circle pad and touch screen--A lot of people prefer to use traditional input methods--directional pads and buttons--while playing games. I get that. In the case of Hey! Pikmin, though, ignoring the 3DS' touch screen would only make corralling the titular creatures more awkward than it needs to be. I guess the developers at Arzest could've included a mode that aped the control scheme of Yoshi's Island (where pressing a button brings up a target reticule, and another press launches a Pikmin). Even if they'd gone that route, though, I'd personally stick to the one highlighted in this demo, as I found it plenty precise.

Don't take all of the above to mean I had no issues whatsoever with the Hey! Pikmin demo. One negative that popped up during my 30-minute playthrough: the frame rate chugged or skipped now and then. It didn't bother me much, but I could see it being a problem if it happens frequently or if the action ever slows down substantially in the retail release.

Also, the soundtrack in the Hey! Pikmin demo is a bit too subtle for my liking. That doesn't mean the same will be true of the full game, of course, but I won't be shocked--or dismayed--if that's how things play out.

Have any of you tried the Hey! Pikmin demo? If so, what did you think about it? Share your thoughts and opinions in the comments section of this post.

Shall We Do It? (Ever Oasis demo, Kid Icarus: Of Myths and Monsters, Metroid II and Miitopia demo)

Sorry it's been so long (over a week!) since I last published a post. I can't even give you an explanation--or at least I can't give you a good one.

Of course, I was on the road for three days early in the week (my husband, cat and I made our way from Austin, Texas, to Madison, Wisconsin), but I've hardly run myself ragged in the last four or five.

Something I've managed to fit into my currently far-from-busy schedule: a bit of quality time with my trusty 3DS. Specifically, I've put a good number of minutes, if not hours, into the following demos and games:

Ever Oasis demo (3DS)--Of the four 3DS demos and games I'll discuss here, this is the one I've enjoyed the least. Which is a shame, as every aspect of the Ever Oasis demo is at least "nice."

I especially like the art style, although the character-switching gameplay is pretty appealing, too. The thing is, I didn't find the latter to be as appealing as I expected it to be before I started my way through the (disappointingly short) demo.

If I were forced to describe Ever Oasis' gameplay with a single word or phrase, I'd probably go with "by the numbers" as far as Secret of Mana-ish titles are concerned. Which is too bad, as I thought that component of the game would help set it apart from other action RPGs that've been released for the 3DS.

On a more positive note, I've read that after a slow start, Ever Oasis eventually hits its stride in impressive fashion, so my current plan is to find a way to pick up a copy of it by the end of the year.

Kid Icarus: Of Myths and Monsters (GameBoy)--Although I've been a fan of the original Kid Icarus since it was first released in North America back in 1987 (I even included it in my "10 Most Influential Games" series of blog posts), I've long avoided this 1991 sequel.

Why? The main reason is that it never looked very appealing to me. Playing a Kid Icarus game in black and white just seemed wrong to me after basking in the beautifully colorful--and weird--landscapes of the NES title. Plus, Pit's sprite here has always looked a little off to me.

After a Twitter friend recently heaped praise on Of Myths and Monsters, though, I decided to finally give it a go. And you know what? I've had a blast with it so far. I can't say I prefer this GameBoy game's sprawling stages to the comparably straightforward ones found in the NES offering, but I'm enjoying them all the same. A similar comment could be made about Of Myths and Monsters' soundtrack, which is acceptable but never approaches the brilliance of the Hirokazu Tanaka tracks that fill the original.

Still, I'm loving this handheld Kid Icarus overall--to the point where I'm now hitting myself for giving it the cold shoulder for so long.

Metroid II (GameBoy)--Here's another portable sequel to a console classic I'm only now playing for the first time. Again, that fact boggles my mind as much as it probably does yours. After all, I was obsessed with both the original Metroid and Super Metroid for the SNES as a youngster (beating both multiple times, I should add).

Unlike Kid Icarus: Of Myths and Monsters, I can't say I've avoided Metroid II because of what I considered to be below-par graphics. In fact, I've always thought Metroid II looked pretty awesome. Regardless, I dragged my feet on playing it until late last week.

So far, I think it's a better game than Of Myths and Monsters. Although Metroid II is a black-and-white affair, it still feels like a visual upgrade to its NES-based predecessor--something that can't be said of Kid Icarus' GameBoy follow-up. Also, I love the way Metroid II twists the gameplay of the first Metroid and Super Metroid just enough to make it feel unique. (I'm talking about this game's "track down and kill X number of Metroids" focus, of course.)

Despite the above, I'm not entirely convinced I'll stick with Metroid II until its end credits, but I'll certainly do my best to finish it.

Miitopia demo (3DS)--After reading a few impressions of the Japanese version of Miitopia, I fully expected to dislike this Tomodachi Life-esque RPG--to the point that I canceled my pre-order for the North American release. After putting nearly three hours into the demo that just hit my region's eShop, though, I'm back aboard the Miitopia hype train.

Chiefly responsible for that change of heart: the aspects I thought I'd hate--no real overworld to explore, battles that are mostly hands-off--don't bother me at all. Hell, I actually find these tweaks refreshing after playing a number of overly traditional RPGs in the last year or so. On top of that, Miitopia sports a surprisingly bold art style, a soundtrack that's more charming than it has any right to be and a gloriously subtle sense of humor. I've heard the full game isn't overly long, but that's OK with me--especially if it ends up being a short-but-sweet experience.

Have you played any of these games or demos? If so, share your thoughts on them in the comments section below.

See also: previous 'Shall We Do It?' posts

Welcome to WonderSwan World: the WonderSwan Color system

Before I start sharing my experiences with the many WonderSwan and WonderSwan Color games already in my collection, I thought I should say a few words about the WonderSwan system.

Actually, I can't say anything about the original, black-and-white WonderSwan system (released all the way back in 1999), as I've never played one. For the same reason, I also can't say anything about the third piece of WonderSwan hardware, the SwanCrystal, which hit Japanese store shelves in 2002. (I plan on buying one of the latter in the next few months, by the way, so hopefully I'll be able to chat about it soon.)

What I can talk about here: the WonderSwan Color system. It made its debut (in Japan, of course) in late 2000--just a year and a half after Bandai shipped the original model of its GameBoy Color competitor.

As its name implies, the WonderSwan Color added a color screen to the mix. That screen is a tad larger than the one built into the original WonderSwan, by the way--2.9 inches (diagonally) compared to about 2.5 inches.

Actually, the WonderSwan Color hardware as a whole is a bit bigger than that of its predecessor as well. I can't pass along the exact dimensions of either system right now, but the WonderSwan Color is approximately the same size as two iPhone 5Cs stacked on top of each other.



Besides that, the WonderSwan Color is powered by a single AA battery (which allows for around 20 hours of play) and, mostly importantly and intriguingly, offers users a bevy of buttons and control inputs.

The most curious of those input options are the pair of split directional pads situated along the left side of the system. To be honest, I have a feeling they're not really split d-pads. Instead, they're probably just buttons arranged to look like and simulate a pad. Regardless, you use them to control movement while playing WonderSwan games (and quite adroitly, I might add), so I guess it doesn't matter if they're really split directional pads or not.

At any rate, the cool thing about this particular grouping of buttons is they let you play a WonderSwan system horizontally or vertically. (When the system is held vertically, the left set of buttons act as the system's d-pad, while the right set act as action buttons.)

Now, you can't just switch between the two willy-nilly. Most games stick to one orientation for the entirety of the experience, with the majority forcing you to hold your WonderSwan horizontally, like a GameBoy Advance, PSP or Vita. Don't fret if the ability to play handheld games vertically has you excited, though; a good number of WonderSwan titles require you to hold your system in that position. (A handful of examples from my own collection: Puzzle Bobble, Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party and Tane wo Maku Tori.) Also, a select few--including Kaze no Klonoa: Midnight Museum and Makaimura--incorporate both orientations into their gameplay.

Some words of warning about playing WonderSwan games with the system held vertically: it's not all it's cracked up to be. Don't get me wrong, it's unique and interesting, but it's not always enjoyable or comfortable, mainly because the system is so small. (If your hands are tiny, you may not have any problems holding it. But if your hands are on the larger side, prepare for some uncomfortable moments while playing vertically oriented WonderSwan titles.)

Still, experiencing portable games in this manner is such a breath of fresh air that I think it's worth dealing with the occasional hand cramp it's bound to cause.



That's nothing compared to the main issue associated with using a WonderSwan Color, which is its screen isn't illuminated. Although recent portable game systems like Nintendo's DS and 3DS, or Sony's PSP and Vita, feature backlit screens, all three of Bandai's WonderSwan models follow in the footsteps of older handhelds--like the GameBoy or the Neo Geo Pocket--by utilizing screens that are only visible under plenty of ambient light. (And in the case of the original WonderSwan as well as the WonderSwan Color, you have to futz with the system's contrast wheel before you can see anything clearly, even in perfect lighting conditions.)

This may not sound so bad if you've never tried playing a handheld without a backlit (or frontlit) screen, but believe me, it can be a challenge. I often feel like I have to squint to see what's going on even in perfect lighting.

Given that, I can't exactly recommend everyone run out and buy a WonderSwan Color along with a pile of WonderSwan cartridges, as I imagine most people who are used to more modern portable gaming hardware will find it difficult to fully enjoy Bandai's offering.

If you've spent plenty of time with a GameBoy or GameBoy Color or GameBoy Advance in recent months or years, though, and as a result you're basically aware of what you'll be getting into with the WonderSwan Color, go ahead and buy one. (Or, better yet, spend the extra cash needed to pick up a SwanCrystal, as it supposedly sports the best screen of the bunch.)

Before you do that, though, you may want to wait until I've written about a few of its games. Thankfully, I'm planning to publish "Welcome to WonderSwan World" posts about a slew of titles--such as Clock Tower, Engacho!, Puzzle Bobble and Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party--over the next couple of weeks.

See also: more photos of my WonderSwan Color system and collection of WonderSwan games