To the person who pointed out two pages were missing from my post about the Magical Puzzle Popils manual: that's no longer the case

Three or so years ago, someone pointed out that two pages of the Magical Puzzle Popils instruction booklet were missing from this old "Manual Stimulation" post of mine.

Unfortunately, that comment came in while my husband and I were on sabbatical. I didn't have my copy of this Sega Game Gear puzzler or access to a scanner at the time, so I couldn't rectify the situation then.



I finally rectified it the other day, but who knows if the person who made me aware of the gaffe is still waiting to see the full Magical Puzzle Popils manual?

In the off chance they are, I decided to publish the post you're reading right now to let them know it's finally available in all its "Magical Guide" glory. (Click on the link above to see it.)

That's not the only reason I'm publishing this post, though. I'm also doing so because I want more people to know about this wonderful Game Gear title, which the late, great Fukio Mitsuji developed for the now-defunct Tengen.

If Mitsuji's name doesn't ring a bell, he's the brainchild behind two games you should know well: Bubble Bobble and Rainbow Islands.



Unlike that pair of Mitsuji creations, Magical Puzzle Popils, renamed Popils: The Blockbusting Challenge when it hit European store shelves in 1992, challenges your brain rather than your reflexes.

Popils is just as cute as those classics, though, if not quite as kaleidoscopically colorful. It also matches their blissful soundtracks.

Add it all up, and you've got one of my five favorite Game Gear games. Is the Magical Puzzle Popils instruction manual a favorite, too? I'll let you be the judge of that.

See also: five Game Gear games you need to play as soon as possible

Check out the Tobu Tobu Girl review I wrote for Hardcore Gaming 101

To those of you who are sick of me writing, tweeting, or otherwise chatting about Tangram Games' Tobu Tobu Girl, I'm sorry.

Don't worry, I'll return to blogging and blathering on about other games soon enough.

In the meantime, please consider reading the Tobu Tobu Girl review I wrote for Hardcore Gaming 101. I think it'll help you understand why I adore the game so much.

Speaking of which, one of the reasons I love Tobu Tobu Girl is that it reminds me of Nintendo's Balloon Kid. As I say in my HG101 review of the former, "both [games] star plucky girls. Both begin with loved ones--a brother in Balloon Kid, a cat in Tobu Tobu Girl--carried away by balloons. Both feature gameplay that regularly makes you feel like you’re a pinball ricocheting around the screen."

That's where the similarities end, though. Again, from my review: "Whereas Balloon Kid is a unique spin on the side-scrolling platformer genre, Tobu Tobu Girl is an arcadey, twitchy, high-score-chasing affair that’s akin to Ferry Halim’s Winterbells. Much like that 2006 effort, the main objective in Tobu Tobu Girl is to quickly climb the screen by bouncing off anything and everything in your path. In Winterbells, that means bells and birds; in Tangram Games’ title, it means birds, bats, ghosts, and even aliens."

On a related, note, Tangram Games recently teamed up with First Press Games to launch a Kickstarter for Tobu Tobu Girl Deluxe, a GameBoy Color-enhanced reworking of the original.

Although a free, open-source ROM of Tobu Tobu Girl Deluxe will be released in a few months, backers of this Kickstarter will receive physical (boxed) copies of the game.

See also: 'Ten questions with the guys behind the best GameBoy game you've probably never played, Tobu Tobu Girl'

Manual Stimulation: Popeye (GameBoy)

Don't feel bad if this is the first you're hearing of this game.

After all, it was only released in Japan and it was both made and published by the unheralded Sigma Enterprises, Inc.

Plus, it isn't exactly a gem. It also isn't a turd, though. So what is it? Ignoring discussions of its quality for a second, this portable Popeye is, at its core, an overhead action game set in a handful of maze-like stages. Some folks might even call it a Pac-Man clone, although I wouldn't go that far myself.

Regardless, it's an enjoyable enough GameBoy title.

Another enjoyable aspect of this 1990 release: its instruction manual.



Things get off to a rather iconic start with the cover illustration seen above.



The game's story comes next--not that I can tell you anything about it. Maybe some kind reader can translate it for those of us who know little or no Japanese?



Next up, we've got a page detailing Popeye's controls and game modes. Interestingly enough, the two-player mode allows one person to control the husky, bearded Bluto--I'm guessing in a race to win the heart of Olive Oyl?



The spread above highlights Popeye's cast of characters. Swee'Pea is the baby shown at the top of the right-hand page, by the way, while the guy beneath him is Wimpy.

Oh, and those creatures near the bottom of the same page? Bluto tosses them around each stage to trip you up. Run into one of them and you'll be knocked out for a few precious seconds.



As you might expect, the Popeye instruction manual includes a page about the game's items. Sadly, there are only two: a can of spinach and a heart.

The can of spinach flies across a level at seemingly random moments. Catch it, and not only does Popeye become faster and stronger (the latter makes it easier to beat Bluto in a tussle), but he also can topple any obstacle that gets in his way, such as an alligator, a cannon, or even a hamburger.



The folks who pieced together the Popeye manual waited until the seventh page to explain how the game works. That explanation continues on pages eight and nine.

I'll do a deeper dive into this in an upcoming review of the game, but here's the gist for now: to clear each stage, you need to grab the hearts that are lying around, find Olive Oyl, and save Swee'Pea. Swee'Pea only shows up after you've accomplished the first two tasks, though, so start with those.



I'm not entirely sure what information the left-hand page above is supposed to pass along to readers, to be honest, though I think it may be giving hints on how to beat Bluto in the one-on-one fights that happen whenever he and Popeye touch.



The manual wraps up with some words about Popeye for GameBoy's two-player mode. I've yet to experience this mode myself, so I sadly can't tell you how it differs from the solo campaign (if at all).

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts on other Japan-only GameBoy games like Astro Rabby, Burning Paper, Noobow, and Peetan

Five reasons I hate myself for waiting 29 years to finish Capcom's Sweet Home

Like Super Mario Land 2, which I discussed in my last post, Capcom's Sweet Home is an old game I've been meaning to play for many decades now. Nearly three decades, in fact.

Unlike that 1992 GameBoy title, however, I'd at least booted up this scary Famicom RPG from 1989 on a few occasions over the years.

I'd never gotten more than an hour or so into it, though--or at least I hadn't until I started my way through it about a week ago.

Well, that's all in the past. This time around, I played Sweet Home for just over 12 hours. And not only that, but I finished it.

So why do I hate myself for waiting 29 years to thoroughly explore this game's hair-raising halls and grounds? Here are the five reasons that first popped into my head:

Sweet Home absolutely nails the feeling of being locked in a haunted mansion--Seems impossible, doesn't it? After all, not only is the dwelling in question crafted using 8-bit sprites, but it's depicted using a top-down perspective, too. Despite that, Sweet Home is as nail-bitingly claustrophobic as any survival-horror game that takes place in such an eerie (and similarly cramped) locale. You really feel like you're stalking the spooky hallways of an evil manor while playing Sweet Home, and that's a real accomplishment as far as I'm concerned.

Its soundtrack only adds to the tension--Sweet Home's music isn't always easy on the ears. Hell, sometimes it's downright annoying. It's pretty much always fitting, though. As in, even when the game's backing tunes are discordantly irritating, they complement what's happening on your TV screen. Don't take this to mean there are no standouts on Sweet Home's soundtrack. In fact, quite a few of its songs could be heralded as stellar. I'm especially fond of the "eastern garden" tune, with its lightning-like percussion flourishes, and the sweetly melancholy "fresco theme."

I love how its story is revealed in bits and pieces--In most RPGs, you learn about its story through banter between party members or conversations with non-player characters. Here, you're mostly made aware of it via notes and even paintings you discover while exploring the titular "home." That gives the game an air of mystery I'm not sure it would have if it'd stuck more closely to the traditions of the genre. It also enhances the sense of loneliness and unease that permeates this Japan-only release.

The turn-based battles in this game are surprisingly unique--Yes, you read that correctly: Sweet Home features turn-based battles. And they're not unlike those you encounter in Dragon Quest or Mother or numerous other 8-bit RPGs with first-person fights. So what's unique about the ones on offer here? A good example is the "pray" option, which increases your power if you time things right. Another example is the "call" option, which lets you bring straggling party members into an on-going battle. (Although five characters are at your disposal while playing Sweet Home, you're forced to split them into groups of two or three. When you select this command, the game cuts away from the fight at hand so you can move one or more other party members to its location.)

It's nearly the perfect length for an RPG--As I mentioned earlier, my just-completed playthrough of Sweet Home took just over 12 hours. That's a breath of fresh air for someone (such as myself) who rarely has the time, energy, or attention span to deal with 100-plus-hour behemoths like Octopath Traveler. Which isn't to suggest Sweet Home's pacing is perfect. I actually thought it overstayed its welcome by an hour or two. Still, I'll take that over the aforementioned alternative any day.

There's only one other aspect of Sweet Home that turned me off, by the way. What is it? The way it severely limits how many items you and your intrepid companions can hold. I understand why the game's developers decided against giving players unlimited space for these objects (which include candles, fire extinguishers, and pieces of rope), but I wish they'd been a bit more lenient. Thankfully, you can drop seemingly pointless tools and wares on the ground and return for them later if the need arises.

That pair of slight missteps notwithstanding, I found my latest (and most successful) foray through Sweet Home's halls and grounds both fascinating and exhilarating. So much so, in fact, that I can't wait to enter its creepy confines again this time next year.

Five reasons I (mostly) hate myself for waiting 26 years to play Super Mario Land 2 for the first time

You may have heard me grouse here or there about the fact that I've never played Super Mario Land 2 for the GameBoy.

It's my own fault, of course. No one kept me from playing it.

The thing is, I can't really say what did keep me from playing it all this time. Which is strange, as I recall enjoying the original Super Mario Land quite a bit back in the day.

Granted, that title launched alongside Nintendo's first handheld in 1989. And it was a lot easier to please GameBoy owners then than it was when Super Mario Land 2 followed it onto store shelves in 1992.

Did I become a more discerning game fan during the three-and-a-half-year span between those two releases? Maybe, but I doubt it.

Far more likely, in my opinion, is that I couldn't shake the (admittedly uninformed) feeling Super Mario Land 2 was little more than a poor man's version of Super Mario World.

Do I still feel that way about the game now that I've played and even beaten it? (I accomplished the latter last week.) Not really, and here are five reasons why:

It's far less of a Super Mario World ripoff than I assumed it to be--Some of you probably are wondering why I ever thought Super Mario Land 2 was a ripoff of Super Mario World. To be honest, I can't remember. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the Mario sprites in both games look pretty darn similar? Regardless, I no longer have such an erroneous opinion of the iconic character's second portable outing. Instead, I now respect its uniqueness and even silliness.

The zone maps are everything--Seriously, how could Nintendo give us something so fabulous and then never return to it? Each and every one of the zone maps included in Super Mario Land 2 brought a smile to my face during my breezy playthrough, though the Mario, Pumpkin, and Space ones especially thrilled me. Admittedly, they're just maps--and single-screen maps, at that. Still, they add a sense of childish whimsy to the experience that most side-scrolling Mario games lack.

Many of its enemies remind me of the first Super Mario Land--And by that I mean they're completely bonkers, of course. They're also a breath of fresh air compared to their counterparts that appear in nearly every other Mario game in existence. I mean, who needs Goombas and Koopas when you have pigs who shoot cannonballs out of their huge snouts (they're called Bomubomu) and fish-cow combos (Mōgyo) that try to gore you with their pointed horns?

I like its mostly unique (for the Mario series) soundtrack--I'm used to Mario games featuring tons of reused tunes. That's not the case here. In fact, I'm not sure any of Super Mario Land 2's music was pulled from previous entries in the long-running series. Regardless, pretty much every song this cartridge offers up is almost profanely exuberant. That makes playing through this platformer even more grin-inducing than it would be if it sported the typical Mario soundtrack.

A late-in-the-game stage pays homage to the "Balloon Trip" mode of Balloon Fight--Some of you may not know this, but I absolutely adore the "Balloon Trip" mode of Balloon Fight. It's the ultimate "just one more try" type of game experience for me. Does this mean I've been playing the Super Mario Land 2 stage alluded to above over and over again since I first encountered it? Not on your life. I sure enjoyed my first time through it, though, and I'll always look forward to it in future attempts.

As for that "mostly" I hid in this post's headline, well, I did that because I don't love each and every aspect of Super Mario Land 2. For example, jumps in this game feel stiffer than they do in other Mario side-scrollers. Also, it's far from the meatiest platformer I've ever played. (I finished it in a few minutes over three hours.)

Despite those minor missteps, I had a blast getting to know Super Mario Land 2 via my trusty 3DS recently. It was the polar opposite of the samey New Super Mario Bros. titles Nintendo's frustratingly focused on for the last decade-plus.

Here's hoping whoever there heads up the next Mario sequel turns to this 1992 release for a bit of inspiration.

Manual Stimulation: Crazy Climber (WonderSwan)

I've long ignored Crazy Climber for WonderSwan because it looked just a little too antiquated for my liking.

Granted, the original arcade version of the game came out all the way back in 1980, so this portable port from 1999 was bound to have an old-fashioned air to it, too.



If this is your first foray into the world of Crazy Climber, you're probably wondering: wasn't it updated or modernized at all between 1980 and 1999?

You'd think so, but as far as I can tell, the answer to that question amounts to "not really."



Maker and publisher Nichibutsu improved the looks of most of its console ports and sequels, but even Crazy Climber 2000 (from--you guessed it--the year 2000, and released for the original PlayStation) features the same "scale a skyscraper using two joysticks" (or directional pads) gameplay as the quarter-muncher that birthed the series 38 years ago.

So what prompted me to do an about-face and pick up a copy of this nichiest of niche titles? One catalyst was that I found out it's played holding the WonderSwan system vertically. (I've always been a sucker for that.) Another was its cartoonish and colorful box art.



Speaking of Crazy Climber's lovely cover illustration, I've got admit I kind of assumed it meant the game's instruction manual would be stuffed with similarly eye-popping imagery.

Boy, was I wrong. In fact, except for the manual's last spread, it's nearly devoid of art. The only exception is the awkwardly drawn hands found in the lower-left corner of page seven.



Don't take that to mean I'm disappointed with my purchase. I'm still glad I own this version of Crazy Climber. Hell, I'm still glad I own this booklet. Its cover and second-to-last page alone make it worth every penny.

If you're wondering what the illustrations on the second-to-last page are supposed to represent, by the way, that would be the game's "characters." I put it in quotes because some of the depicted objects obviously don't fit the typical definition of the word.



Anyway, you encounter all of these so-called characters as you (attempt to) make your way to the top of each of Crazy Climber's mammoth buildings.

Most aim to do you harm. The lone exception: the "lucky balloon." It kindly hauls you up a handful of floors without asking for anything in return.



One last comment before I declare this post complete: click on any of the scans you see here to take a closer look at them.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Engacho! and Lode Runner for WonderSwan

Manual Stimulation: Dungeon Land (GameBoy)

You may remember Dungeon Land is the Japanese GameBoy title I bought because it featured "enemy flan."

Or you may remember it because it was Enix's maiden release for Nintendo's first handheld game system. It's even possible you remember its magnificently colorful cover art.

And if you don't remember Dungeon Land, or if this post is introducing you to it, that's cool, too.

Either way, uh, here's that old game's instruction manual!



You might think I'm disappointed that Dungeon Land's manual isn't as salmon-y as its outer box.

That was my initial reaction to it, I've got to admit, but now that I've had some time to reflect, I actually quite like the black-gray-yellow scheme its designers used instead.



That's hardly the only interesting or impressive aspect of this booklet, however. For example, it also features a good number of eye-catching illustrations--like the ones you see in this spread.



The second page above seemingly details the game's story, by the way. (As far as I can tell, the text at the top says something along the lines of "About Dungeon Land.")

I can't tell you what those details are, sadly, as I can't understand them.



I'm sure it creatively explains why this title is part board game and part role-playing game, though. Or at least I hope that's the case.



Because it includes RPG elements, Dungeon Land has its share of fantastic enemy characters. You can see some of them--including the flan baddie I mentioned earlier--in the right-hand page below.



Even more "monsters" are showcased across the next spread. I think these are some of the game's bosses, actually--though don't quote me on that.



Whatever they are, I love them. I'm not sure why they have three names, unfortunately. Or maybe the three words above their heads aren't names at all? Maybe they just explain their three "phases" or something like that?

As you probably can tell, I haven't played much of Dungeon Land to date. That's because role-playing board games aren't a whole lot of fun when you don't understand much of the text they throw at you.



To be honest, it probably wouldn't be much fun even if I did know what was going on at all times. Maybe it's just me, but I rarely enjoy tackling digital board games on my own.

Still, I'm glad I own a copy of Dungeon Land. Who knows, maybe someday I'll rope another human being into playing it with me. Or maybe I'll learn enough Japanese to find out it's a blast even when experienced alone.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Burning Paper, Noobow, Painter Momopie, Peetan, and Snow Bros. Jr.

Manual Stimulation: Susano-o Densetsu (PC Engine)

If only I'd penned and published this post last summer as intended.

Back then, one of my favorite retro-game blogs, The Brothers Duomazov, was still alive and well.

OK, so maybe "well" isn't the right word to use here. After all, it hadn't been updated in more than three years at that point.





I could access and enjoy all of its reviews of old PC Engine and TurboGrafx-16 games whenever I wanted, though, and that was more than enough for me. (I swear I read some of them at least 10 times each. They were like comfort food for me.)

I bring up The Brothers Duomazov, by the way, because it was one of the only sites that offered up any real information on this obscure, Japan-only RPG from 1989.

Also, it pushed me to buy a copy of the game. Before I read the brothers' thoughts on Susano-o Densetsu, I skipped right over it each and every time I came across it on eBay or my go-to online stores.





What can I say? Its cover art screams "bad game" to me--despite the fact that a buff dude is front and center and the esteemed Hudson Soft logo sits just below his hairless torso.

Well, The Brothers Duomazov opened my eyes to the fact that Susano-o Densetsu is far from a bad game. Actually, their write-up made it seem pretty darn interesting.

For starters, it's a HuCard-based role-playing game--an honest-to-goodness rarity as far as the PC Engine is concerned.





Also, its battles don't rip off Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy like pretty much every other RPG did in the late 1980s. Instead, fights in Susano-o Densetsu offer players a bit more freedom than was typical for the genre at the time.

Combine that with this Alfa System-made game's cyberpunk-ish aesthetic, and it should be easy enough to understand why I'm now a proud owner of a complete copy.

The instruction manual showcased in this post was pulled from the interior of that copy, naturally. It's quite something, wouldn't you agree? Admittedly, it could use a few (or a lot) more illustrations, but I think it's pretty fabulous even in its current state.





I especially like the full-page world map featured on its fifth page. And of course I adore the item and enemy drawings highlighted on the Susano-o Densetsu manual's final spread.

What's your opinion of this surprisingly beefy booklet? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Or maybe it doesn't inspire any kind of emotional reaction from you? Regardless, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Dungeon Explorer, KiKi KaiKai, Parodius Da!, and Son Son II.

Second Chances: Tennis (NES)

A couple of years ago, I published a "Second Chances" post about another NES tennis game, Jaleco's Racket Attack. (Read it here.)

In that write-up, I regaled the four or five people who actually read it with the trials and tribulations I had to endure during my most recent experience with that 1988 release.

Basically, Racket Attack is a hot mess. It's slow, slippery, and frustratingly difficult. Well, guess what? Some of those same words could be used to describe Nintendo's Tennis from 1985.

OK, so Tennis isn't exactly slow. Or at least the player sprites don't move slowly. No one is going to accuse the ball of racing through the air, though.

Tennis' speed is the last thing you'll need to worry about should you ever play it, however. No, far more worrisome and irksome are the following:

* When it comes to player-controlled characters, you've got just one option--a white guy with dark hair.

* As for opponents, there are just five in the entire game. They're also caucasian men.

* Your repertoire of moves consists of two serves (a fast one and a slow one), a "flat" forehand, a similarly struck backhand, a lob, and a volley.

* Every match you play in Tennis takes place on the same "hard" (concrete) court. Look elsewhere if you care about carpet, clay, or grass surfaces.

* Speaking of which, the game lacks a tournament mode, a "world tour" mode, or even a rankings ladder. Your only choice is to play one-on-one matches against the five opponents mentioned earlier. (Each one represents a different difficulty level.)

This tennis title would be annoying enough if that were the extent of its "cons." Unfortunately, it isn't.  In fact, the game's final noteworthy negative is the one that impacts gameplay the most.

What is it? It's that positioning your character sprite in Tennis is an overly finicky exercise. If you're not in the right spot, you'll totally miss the ball. Or you'll hit it but send it many feet wide of the sidelines.

Given all of the above, why am I even writing about about this ancient cart? Or what prompted me to give it a "second chance" it seemingly didn't deserve?

It all started when I subscribed to the just-launched Nintendo Switch Online service and downloaded the complementary NES app.

After playing a few rounds of Balloon Fight's "Balloon Trip" mode (as you do), not to mention a couple of go-throughs of Donkey Kong, I clicked on Tennis without giving it much thought.

It looked and sounded and felt just as antiquated as I remembered, of course, but for some reason I didn't exit out of it after a handful of games.

In fact, I kept on playing until the end of the match, which I lost by the rather humiliating score of 6-0, 6-3. (Although in my defense, I came back from 5-1 down in the second set and even saved a bunch of match points along the way.)

Time for me to sashay away from the game once and for all, right? Wrong. I'm actually kind of pumped to play it again.

I can't guarantee I'll give it the time of day after I defeat even one of its handful of opponents, mind you, but until that happens, I'll probably return to it now and then to see if I can make any headway against the competition.

Have any of you played Tennis? If so, what do you think about it?

Manual Stimulation: Pizza Pop! (Famicom)

As a youngster, I regularly turned up my nose at Jaleco's NES offerings.

For me, they were way too rough around the edges. I preferred comparatively "cleaner" games like the ones made by Nintendo, Konami, and Capcom.



That's not to say there weren't exceptions. I bought and played the hell out of the company's Racket Attack, for example. (Don't take that to be an endorsement; it's not. The game's terrible, even if I have a soft spot for it.)

And I remember renting and enjoying its home port of City Connection on a few occasions, too.



Despite my anti-Jaleco bias, I'm sure I would've given Pizza Pop! more than a second look back in the day had it not been a Japan-only release.



Sadly, that wasn't the case, and so I had to wait until a few years ago to finally experience this wacky platformer (via emulation, of course).



Was it worth the wait? In some ways yes, and in some ways no. On the positive side, Pizza Pop! looks and sounds great. I particularly love its cartoonish aesthetic, though its boppy, poppy backing tunes are a ton of fun as well.

On the negative side, though, there's the fact that this game seems to revel in being annoyingly cheap (from a difficulty perspective).



Something that was without a doubt worth the wait, or at least worth what I spent on it, is this game's instruction manual. Why? For starters, it's full of color. This is especially true of its story spread (pages two and three, above), but it's also true of the ones that follow.



Sadly, that's one of the only places you'll find any unique illustrations in the Pizza Pop! booklet. You will encounter a number of screenshots throughout, however. They don't really make up for the lack of drawings, but in this kind of situation you've got to take what you get.



This manual's biggest missed opportunity, as far as I'm concerned, is that its pair of "character" pages (12 and 13, below) feature in-game sprites rather than line-art depictions of the game's enemies.

Oh, well, at least the baddies that fill the Pizza Pop! stages are a good-looking bunch.



What do you think of this latest entry in my "Manual Stimulation" series? Also, if you've played Pizza Pop!, what did you think of it? Share your thoughts in the comments section of this post.

See also: some photos of Pizza Pop's packaging