Manual Stimulation: Bubble Bobble (Game Gear)

The Sega Game Gear port of Bubble Bobble may be my favorite home version of Taito's arcade classic.

Which of course means it's also one of my favorite Game Gear titles.

In fact, I love Bubble Bobble for Game Gear so much that one of my "bucket list" wishes as a games writer is to interview the folks who developed it so I can learn why they made some of the intriguing design choices they made. 

(Seriously, if you know anyone who used to work for the now-defunct, South Korea-based Open Corp and you can put me in touch with them, please let me know.)

Why am I such a huge fan of this portable iteration of Bubble Bobble? The main reason is that its Bob, Bub, enemy, and item sprites are the usual size, but its backdrops look as though they've been zapped with a shrink ray.

The result is that this Bubble Bobble port gives off some serious Godzilla vibes. As in, Bub and Bob—as well as their enemy combatants—tower over the surrounding environment. It feels strange, yet also thrilling.

It alters the gameplay quite a bit, too, which I'm sure will irk some Bubble Bobble lifers to no end. Personally, I like how it switches things up—even if it does obliterate the few strategies I've developed for other, more traditional versions of the game over the years.

Anyway, enough about the game itself. This post is supposed to be about the instruction manual that was packed inside copies of this small-screened take on Taito's seminal classic, so let's talk about it.

If you scroll back up a bit, you'll see the Bubble Bobble Game Gear manual kicks off with a two-page comic. Sure, it employs an art style I'm not a huge fan of, but it's still pretty sweet—if short.

Sadly, this booklet isn't as crammed full of lovely illustrations as I think it should be. Still, it includes enough of them that you're unlikely to feel let down at the end. 

Manual Stimulation: Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World (Famicom)

No joke, the English version of Taito's Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World, called Panic Restaurant,  is one of my favorite side-scrolling platformers around.

Which isn't to suggest it's one of the best side-scrolling platformers around. It's not. It's probably not even one of the best platformers released for the Famicom or NES.



Still, I adore it. Why? For starters, I've never been shy about admitting I love games that feature food. Well, that's pretty much all you encounter while playing Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World, which is set in and around a restaurant ("Eaten").



Food's about all you encounter while flipping through the Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World instruction manual, too. Food and people who make food (like the cute chef showcased on the manual's cover and on pretty much every interior page), I mean.



Thankfully, the Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World manual follows in the glorious footsteps of many other old Taito game manuals and depicts all of the above-mentioned food and food-making with the most brilliant of illustrations.

The illustration that serves as the backdrop of this booklet's "story" page (see above) is a perfect example.



None of the other drawings that fill the Wanpaku Kokkun no Gourmet World booklet are as massive as the one that sits behind its story text, but most are just as adorable.

Manual Stimulation: Don Doko Don 2 (Famicom)

At the end of my post about the Don Doko Don Famicom instruction manual, I mentioned that the manual you see here makes its predecessor "look like something that was pulled from the gutter."

Harsh, I know, but I stand by it. I mean, just look at the cover of the Don Doko Don 2 manual, below. It alone is more stupendous than anything you'll find in the first Don Doko Don manual.



Don't take any of this to mean I think the original Don Doko Don manual is a stinker. I think it's pretty snazzy, actually.

Maybe not as snazzy as, say, the manuals publisher Taito created for the Famicom Disk System version of Bubble Bobble, or the PC Engine ports of The New Zealand Story or Mizubaku Daibouken, but still worth the occasional ogle.



I say without hesitation, however, that the Don Doko Don 2 instruction manual is snazzier than all of the above-mentioned booklets--perhaps combined.

Every page of the Don Doko Don 2 booklet features something fabulous, usually in the form of a stunning drawing.



OK, so they're not all as jaw-dropping as the gigantic one that opens the Don Doko Don 2 manual. But, really, not every illustration can be of a huge, crying, king-turned-into-a-frog, right?

At any rate, the pages that follow shine a light on the game's story. Besides all of the art they produced, I also love how the designers who worked on this booklet used pops of red and pink to add drama and interest to the proceedings.



The spread above educates readers on how to play Don Doko Don 2. There's not much to tell them, however; as is the case in the original Don Doko Don, in part two, you dispatch enemies by smacking them with your mallet, picking up their squished bodies, and then tossing their corpses at oncoming clueless baddies.

Manual Stimulation: Don Doko Don (Famicom)

Don Doko Don is one of those old games that avoided pinging my radar for a lot longer than it should've done.

Granted, this series hardly is a household name outside of Japan--despite the fact that Taito, the company responsible for developing and publishing it, previously gave the world Space Invaders, Qix, Chack'n Pop, and Bubble Bobble, among other classics.



At any rate, I remained blissfully unaware of Don Doko Don's existence until sometime after I became obsessed with the PC Engine.

You see, Taito ported this single-screen platformer, which stars a pair of mallet-wielding dwarves, to NEC's diminutive console less than a year after its original arcade release in 1989, and just two months after the Famicom port that's the subject of this post.



Why didn't I hear about Don Doko Don for the Famicom before I heard about its PC Engine iteration? I haven't the slightest idea.

At any rate, and as you might suspect, the instruction manual that came packed inside copies of the Famicom port of Don Doko Don is quite similar to the PC Engine port's manual.



The two booklets aren't identical, however. Take the spread above. The pair of illustrations you see here are completely different from the ones you see on the corresponding pages of Don Doko Don's PC Engine booklet.



For the record, I prefer the unique illustrations in the PC Engine release's manual to the ones used in the Famicom release's manual.



All that said, most of the drawings in these two manuals are the same. Generally speaking, though, the ones in the Famicom manual are given a bit more space to breathe than are the ones in the PC Engine manual.



The drawings highlighted on the last few pages demonstrate to readers Don Doko Don's main gameplay loop, which involves whacking enemies with your trusty hammer, picking up their smooshed bodies, and then tossing them at other unsuspecting foes.



The next handful of spreads focus on educating players about the particulars of each Don Doko Don stage. For example, the first world is forested, contains trees that spit out baddies, and features a multi-jack-o'-lanterned boss.

Second Chances: Bubble Bobble 2 (Famicom)

Given my love of the original Bubble Bobble, you might assume I've adored this pseudo-sequel since the first time I played it. (Don't let its name fool you; Rainbow Islands is the real follow-up to the aforementioned classic.)

In reality, I've attempted to play--and enjoy--Bubble Bobble 2 a number of times since its release 24 years ago. Sadly, each attempt (made via emulation, I have to add; I haven't yet gotten up the nerve to drop a few hundred dollars on a game I've long struggled to like) ended with me shaking my head in disbelief, wondering how the masters at Taito could've screwed up so badly.

What do I mean by "screwed up"? Consider Bubble Bobble 2's graphics. Anyone who tries to tell you they even approach the kaleidoscopic adorableness of Bub's and Bob's first foray into the "cave of monsters" is someone you shouldn't trust, in my humble opinion.

Heck, I'd go so far as to say I prefer the aesthetics of the Rainbow Islands Famicom port to those of the game discussed here, and that particular home version of the official Bubble Bobble successor isn't exactly known for being a looker (especially when compared to its quarter-munching counterpart).

Another visual aspect of Bubble Bobble 2, aka Bubble Bobble Part 2 outside of Japan, that's kept me from warming up to it as much as I thought I would when I first became aware of it: its sprites. They're all out of whack in terms of size. Specifically, Bub and Bob appear to have gained a few pounds since their initial go-round, while their well-known adversaries seem to have been zapped by some sort of futuristic shrinking ray.

That's not the end of the world, admittedly, and if you're like me you'll get over the questionable art direction in time, but even then it remains one of the ugliest Bubble Bobble games around.

The worst offender when it comes to Bubble Bobble 2's looks, though, is its lazy backdrops. Although a couple of them are nice enough, they stick around for so long they become boring. This is especially true of the yawn-inducing, column-filled environment that opens the game. It barely changes while you progress through the first 10 levels, and when you finally make it to the 11th, the sky color switches from blue to coral and that's it.

Later stages offer backgrounds that are far more interesting, thankfully, but even they tend to overstay their welcome.

The good news amidst this deluge of negativity: all the complaints I've leveled at Bubble Bobble 2 so far are merely cosmetic. (That's not to say I can't think of a few others, such as its lackluster soundtrack and its abundance of flicker.) Even better, they irk you less and less the more you play the game--or at least that's been the case for me. As an example, I currently consider the Bub (or Bob) sprite to be kind of cute, which is worlds away from my initial, horrified response to it.

Also, Bubble Bobble 2 is an enjoyable enough single-screen platformer even though it's far from the most attractive one around. That's largely because of how bizarre it eventually shows itself to be.

A case in point: after nearly putting you to sleep with 19 straight stages populated by a few stray clouds, columns and bushes (as well as a bunch of baddies, of course), the game whisks you away to what looks like a brick-lined dungeon to battle what I can only describe as a xenomorph riding a motorcycle. (See screenshot above for evidence.)

How this fits into Bubble Bobble 2's overall story, I cannot say. I can say, however, that it served as a turning point in my relationship with this odd duck of the Bubble Bobble series.

After encountering that Alien-esque boss--as well as the enemy that looks like a mashup of a Star Wars AT-ST and a Zen-chan as well as the one that seems to be made up of a skeletal head, a chain-link body and bony little legs (again, see screenshot above)--I developed an appreciation for Bobble Bobble 2's unapologetic wackiness.

I'd still rather play the original Bubble Bobble, Rainbow Islands or Parasol Stars, mind you, but I think it's safe to say I'll toss this 1993 release into the mix now and then thanks to my most recent--and mostly positive--experience with it.

See also: previous 'Second Chances' posts about the Famicom ports of Chack'n Pop, Don Doko Don and Rainbow Islands, as well as Bubble Bobble Junior for the GameBoy

Five favorites: Famicom leading ladies

Here's an admission that should shock no one: I've preferred female protagonists in video games to male ones since my earliest experiences with the medium.

Unfortunately, NES games that let you play as a girl or woman were far from common--or at least that was the case for the ones I owned or rented back in the day. Metroid is an obvious stand-out, as is Super Mario Bros. 2, but other than that pair? The only additional examples that come to mind at the moment are Athena, Ice Climber (you can control Nana in two-player mode), Mickey Mousecapade (in a way) and Final Fantasy (I'm one of those folks who have always considered the white mage to be female).

Thankfully, I'm no longer a kid, which means imports are no longer off limits. That's a big deal, because Famicom games weren't as sexist as their North American counterparts--as should be evident by the time you finish reading the following blurbs about five of my favorite female protagonists to grace the Japanese iteration of Nintendo's 8-bit console.

Altiana (Space Hunter)--Full disclosure: I've never actually played this Kemco-made, flick-screen action game, but I've long wanted to give it a try. Admittedly, its gameplay looks a bit rough (see it action here), but its spritework--protagonist Altiana's, especially--is right up my alley. I know some folks wish the in-game version of Altiana looked a bit more like the version showcased on the Space Hunter box cover, but I think she looks great in both forms. Plus, based on the footage above, she seems to be a kick-ass-and-take-names kind of gal, which means I'd bow down to her even if her sprite was gnarly. (To learn more about this Japan-only release from 1986, check out Video Game Den's Space Hunter write-up.)

Clarice (City Connection)--What do I like least about this console port of Jaleco's arcade classic? That you only get a glimpse of its main character, the blue-haired lady in the screenshot above, between stages. Sure, the rest of City Connection also is as cute as can be, but I find Clarice's design to be so pleasant that it's a real shame players don't get to see more of it. Oh, well, at least she's the star of this banana-yellow Famicom cartridge. After all, how often does a driving game--even one that's more of a platformer than a racer--feature a female protagonist? (Bonus content: I first rented the NES iteration of City Connection back in the day because I thought its logo was adorable.)

Lum (Urusei Yatsura: Lum no Wedding Bell)--I've got to be honest here: I don't know a whole lot about the Urusei Yatsura manga and anime series in general or the Lum character in particular. (Besides what I've read on Wikipedia, I mean.) That unfortunate ignorance hasn't kept me from lusting after this Jaleco-made platformer, though, which is a remake, of sorts, of the same company's Momoko 120% arcade game. Chiefly responsible for the blossoming of that long-distance love affair: Hardcore Gaming 101 writer Neil Foster's declaration (in this article about Momoko 120%) that both Lum no Wedding Bell and its predecessor are "more or less standard arcade flair in the Donkey Kong vein." Add to that the fact that the blue-coiffed Lum can zap on-coming baddies with lightning bolts, and the appeal should be as clear as day.

Myu (Insector X)--Before I say anything else, I've got to give a shout-out to the 1CC Log for Shmups for educating me as to this red-headed gal's name. Before I came across the post linked to above, I assumed this 8-bit reimagining of Taito's quarter-muncher of the same title simply referred to her as "girl," or something similarly lazy and disappointing. Speaking of disappointing, Insector X's character-select screen suggests players should only choose Myu if they're girls themselves. Ugh. On a positive note, at least a female option exists. Related aside: I prefer Myu's design to that of her male cohort (his name is Anny) many times over.

Sayo (Kiki KaiKai Dotō Hen)--I've had a soft spot for the Shinto shrine maiden that serves as this Famicom Disk System's protagonist ever since I played through Pocky & Rocky with wide-eyed gusto as a teenager. That soft spot only grew when I became aware of the PC Engine port of the original KiKi KaiKai. (FYI: you can peruse the entirety of that game's instruction booklet in this "Manual Stimulation" post.) In the beginning, I liked Sayo because she was cute. Later, I came to appreciate that she single-handedly sets out to rescue not just one god, but seven of them, in this multi-directional shmup--which differs from both the arcade original and the aforementioned HuCard release in a number of important ways--with nothing more than a fistful of o-fuda scrolls.

Do you have any favorites when it comes to women who have starring roles in Famicom games? If so, let me know which ones in the comments section that follows.

The best PC Engine game manuals (I've seen)

NEC's PC Engine was and is beloved around the world for a lot of reasons, including the console's small footprint, its credit card-sized cartridges (called HuCards) and its eclectic library of games.

Another reason that should be added to that list, in my opinion: the drop-dead gorgeous instruction manuals that were packed inside many PC Engine game cases.

Speaking of which, I consider the manuals below to be among the system's best. Before you start scrolling through them, understand that this post shouldn't be considered exhaustive. I certainly haven't flipped through every PC Engine instruction manual in existence, after all. I have pored over a good number of them, though, so I'd say my thoughts on the matter are as valid as anyone's in this area.

With all that out of the way, here are my personal picks for "best PC Engine game manuals."



Don Doko Don--Something you need to know right off the bat when it comes to the instruction booklets produced for this system's games: the ones that accompanied Taito-made and Namco-made titles are the most impressive. I especially like Taito's PC Engine manuals. They're crude in a way that Namco's aren't, but I find that aspect to be surprisingly charming. Don Doko Don's is a perfect example of this. It's bursting with monochromatic depictions of this single-screen platformer's protagonists, enemies, bosses and items that are simple, yet captivating. To see the entirety of this HuCard's how-to pamphlet, by the way, check out my "Manual Stimulation" post devoted to it. You also may want to spend a few seconds or even minutes ogling The New Zealand Story's manual, which is similarly appealing.



Hany on the Road--It's a crying shame that this oddball platformer's instruction manual is so short. Not only is it full of vibrant color and adorable enemy illustrations, but it features a handful of wow-worthy clay models. A few more pages of the latter would've been warmly welcomed by yours truly. Still, the artists and designers at publisher FACE deserve kudos for offering up a booklet that's more beautiful than it has any right to be, regardless of its length. (FYI: the whole she-bang can be viewed here.)



Mizubaku Daibouken--In some ways, Mizubaku Daibouken's manual impresses me more than Don Doko Don's. As nice as the latter title's booklet is, the former's is a lot more adventurous. For starters, it kicks off with a multi-page comic that shares the game's backstory. It also uses eye-popping illustrations to introduce Mizubaku Daibouken's many worlds (see above) and explain its controls. That it wraps up with black-and-white doodles of some of this arcade port's enemy characters is the icing on the proverbial cake. Experience all of the above for yourself by perusing my "Manual Stimulation: Mizubaku Daibouken" write-up.



PC Genjin 2--Why did I choose PC Genjin 2's instruction booklet over those of the series' first or third entries? For me, the original PC Genjin's manual is a smidgen too safe. No one would use that word to describe the ambitious PC Genjin 3 manual, but I feel pretty comfortable calling it "a bit much." I love that it's bursting with color, and I appreciate its enemy illustrations, but taken as a whole it's nearly seizure-enducing. The PC Genjin 2 pamphlet provides some of the same thrills but without the headache that's sure to follow in their wake.



Pop'n Magic--I guess it shouldn't be a huge surprise that the manual made for a Bubble Bobble clone is as cute and colorful as can be. That said, the ones produced for genre mates Rainbow Islands and Parasol Stars are flat-out duds, as far as I'm concerned, so I'm fine with expressing some shock at the verve showcased in this Riot release's how-to booklet. The spread above is my favorite of this pamphlet's many pages, but that's not to suggest the remainder are stinkers. Decide for yourself by taking a magnifying glass to my "Manual Stimulation: Pop'n Magic" post.



Valkyrie no Densetsu--As I've said before, Namco's PC Engine games haven't always been favorites of mine. Thankfully, I pulled my head out of my butt some time ago and realized the bulk of them are well worth owning and playing--even if they aren't perfect replicas of their arcade counterparts. In general that's due to their attractive graphics and gameplay, but it's also due to their beautiful manuals. Valkyrie no Densetsu's (see it in all its glory here) is the best of the bunch, if you ask me, but even turds like Barunba came with booklets capable of taking your breath away.

For more awesome PC Engine game manuals, check out these "Manual Stimulation" posts or head over to Video Game Den and peruse that site's HuCard and CD-ROM2 sections.

Nice Package! (Puzzle Bobble, WonderSwan)

I've got to be honest here: I was more than a bit apprehensive about buying a black-and-white port of Taito's Puzzle Bobble.

The fact is, I'm generally not all that interested in black-and-white ports of games that usually are drenched in color. You know, like, the platformer--Bubble Bobble--that spawned this puzzler. Or Puyo Puyo. Hell, even Pac-Man, Bomberman and Adventures of Lolo come to mind.

Still, I've had some good times with the pair of Bubble Bobble titles that were published for the GameBoy in 1990 and 1993. Also, I'm surprisingly fond of Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party, as I explained in my most recent "Welcome to WonderSwan World" write-up.

So, when I came across a rather cheap complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan a couple of months ago, I bit the bullet and bought it despite my initial reservations.

Am I happy I with my purchase now that I've spent some time with this seemingly gimped conversion of Taito's classic coin-op? Yes, I am.

I don't want to say too much about why that is in this post, though, because I'll cover a lot of that ground in a future installment of "Welcome to WonderSwan World."

What I'm willing to say here: Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan port both looks and sounds better than you're probably imagining (you can see and hear what I'm talking about in this YouTube longplay of the game). Also, it's surprisingly enjoyable to play.



This iteration's graphics and gameplay aren't solely responsible for why I'm glad I added this title to my growing collection of WonderSwan carts, however. Just as responsible: its packaging, of course.

The best part of owning a complete-in-box copy of Puzzle Bobble for WonderSwan, in my humble opinion, is its cover art. Although not as amazing as the illustration conjured up for the game's Neo Geo Pocket Color port (see it here), it's basically on par with the one plastered across the front of the Puzzle Bobble Super Famicom box.

Going back to Puzzle Bobble's WonderSwan cover imagery, while looking at this post's first photo, you may notice it sports both a Taito as well as a Sunsoft logo.

That's because, unlike the original arcade release of Puzzle Bobble, which Taito developed and published, Sunsoft published this one--at the beginning of July in 1999.



Sunsoft didn't develop it, though. A company called Yoshidayama Workshop handled that task.

Don't worry if Yoshidayama Workshop doesn't ring a bell; before I started doing my research for this post, I'd never come across its name either.

Which makes sense, as according to GameFAQs, Yoshidayama Workshop only ever developed a small handful of video games. Besides this portable Puzzle Bobble, it also produced two other WonderSwan titles (Meta Communication Therapy: Nee Kiite!, released in 2000, and Wonder Classic, released in 2001) and a Japan-only GameBoy cartridge called Itsudemo! Nyan to Wonderful.

I can't speak to the quality of that trio of games, as I've never played any of them, but I can say Yoshidayama Workshop did a pretty good job down-porting Taito's Bubble Bobble-inspired puzzler to the WonderSwan hardware.

I wish I could say the same about the designers who created this title's instruction booklet. Sure, it's colorful, as a glance at the photo above should make clear, but it's also devoid of the kinds of illustrations that pop up in every other Bubble Bobble or Puzzle Bobble manual I've seen to date.

Oh, well, it's hardly the end of the world--especially when the rest of this Puzzle Bobble release's packaging is so stellar.

What do you think of the box, cartridge and manual shots shown throughout this post? Also, what do you think of this version of Puzzle Bobble? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

See also: previous 'Nice Package!' posts

Welcome to WonderSwan World: Rainbow Islands Putty's Party

Before you get too excited about this portable reimagining of Taito's classic quarter-muncher--and Bubble Bobble sequel--from 1987, I have to share the following, potentially buzz-killing details:

* A company called DigitalWare developed this version of Rainbow Islands. Besides Putty's Party, the only other releases on its resume are a small handful of "Simple" series games for the PS2 and DS. (In other words, neither legendary developer Fukio Mitsuji nor anyone else at Taito had a hand in this "port.")

* Less damning than the above, but still plenty relevant to this conversation: a company called MegaHouse published Putty's Party (in 2000). The only other games it helped bring to the masses are another WonderSwan game (Tetsujin 28-gou) and a trio of fairly random, Japan-only DS titles.

* Unlike basically every other Rainbow Islands game around, Putty's Party is rendered in black, white and a few shades of gray.

* As far as I'm aware, Putty's Party doesn't include all 10 of the arcade original's islands.

Sorry for that last "as far as I'm aware" bit, but up 'til now I've only been able to complete the game's first four islands (Darius, Doh's, Insect and Monster)--which, intriguingly, can be tackled in any order.

Unfortunately, simply finishing those islands doesn't cause any new ones to appear. My gut tells me more are revealed if you manage to nab all seven collectible diamonds on each of the initial isles, but I can't say that with any certainty since I've yet to accomplish that far-from-simple feat.

As for what I think of the stages I have experienced, well, let's start with a positive impression. An obvious one is that Rainbow Islands: Putty's Party is played with the WonderSwan system held sideways, so its screen is oriented vertically. That may sound gimmicky, but it's not. In this game, as in others made for Bandai's would-be GameBoy competitor, it lets you see quite a bit more of the playfield than you would if everything were depicted horizontally.

Speaking of which, the playfields in Putty's Party--as well as every other visual aspect of the game, really--are surprisingly impressive. I want to call them "arcade perfect" besides their lack of color, but I'm not sure that's technically true. Regardless, they look better than most Rainbow Islands ports of the time. (I'm also rather fond of the manga-inspired intermission screens that follow every stage, I've got to say. They're completely static, but they're also well-drawn and add a welcome bit of flair to this release.)

One caveat I've got to add to the above: the protagonist Putty's sprite isn't quite up to snuff, in my opinion.

Another component of Putty's Party that disappoints, at least at first, is its controls. I've always thought the arcade original seemed kind of stiff, especially while executing jumps, but this WonderSwan version feels even more rigid. It's also noticeably slower than its quarter-munching predecessor, which is sure to increase the annoyance felt by some players.

Here's the thing, though: after a while, and after accepting its existence, the stiff slowness of Putty's Party stopped bothering me. That's not to say I now "like" it, mind you, but I also don't hate it to the point of wanting to smash my WonderSwan Color to smithereens, so I'll call it a wash, if not exactly a plus.

I've also come around to another of this port's quirks--that being how the third (of four) level of each island offers up gameplay that's subtly and strangely different from what Rainbow Islands veterans are used to encountering.

For example, water starts flooding Insect Island's third stage basically from the word go, adding an element of tension that usually only pops up if you dillydally or otherwise take too long to reach an area's summit.

The third stage of Doh's Island, on the other hand, requires you to expose a secret door that acts as an exit rather than climb to a giant treasure chest in the sky to escape its clutches. (Note: at the moment, I don't really know what causes that door to appear, although I suspect the culprit is jumping onto a specific platform or dropping a rainbow onto one.)

Although curious, I wouldn't describe either of these additions as entirely welcome. Still, they provide a unique take on Rainbow Islands' traditional gameplay, so I it's hard to discount them completely.

Given all of the above, I'd warn against spending too much money on a copy of this game if you're at all uncertain you'll enjoy it due to its eccentricities. (I can't help but assume the majority of WonderSwan owners will not respond to them as favorably as I have.)

That said, if you've, say, spent time with Nintendo's Ice Climber and it didn't cause you to put a controller through a wall, and if you aren't horrified by the idea of a colorless Rainbow Islands, you could do worse than add Putty's Party to your WonderSwan collection.

See also: my first 'Welcome to WonderSwan World' post about the WonderSwan Color system

My 10 Most Influential Games: Bubble Bobble (Arcade)

Although I have a pretty good memory, I'm rarely able to recall my first experiences with specific video games.

Thankfully, that's not true of my introduction to Bubble Bobble.

As I'm sure I've mentioned here before, my hometown has a rather nice bowling alley that my friends and I visited regularly while we were growing up. Tucked into its back corner were a slough of arcade cabinets and pinball machines, and we spent as much time playing them as we did bowling.

Among the games that gobbled up our hard-earned allowance money: Gauntlet, Karate Champ, Paperboy, Pole Position, Ring King, Xenophobe--and of course Bubble Bobble.

To be completely honest, I'm not entirely sure what drew my attention to Bubble Bobble's cabinet for the first time. I have a feeling it was the game's glorious, ear-wormy jingle, but it very well may have been its adorable, rainbow-coated visuals.

Something I remember clearly about my initial experiences with this classic quarter-muncher: I absolutely sucked at it. Although I blame some of my ineptitude on not fully understanding Bubble Bobble's rules right off the bat, but mostly I blame it on my life-long discomfort with using a joystick. (Ironic, right? Seriously, though, I've always preferred using a d-pad.)

Still, I kept coming back to it, and over time I got better and better at this Fukio Mitsuji-made (for Taito) title.

So, how did it influence my current taste in video games? It did so in a couple of ways, actually.

One is that it hurled me down the path toward loving games that feature collectible food items. Ms. Pac-Man showed me to its entrance (thanks to the level that offers up a pretzel rather than a piece of fruit, strangely enough), but Bubble Bobble and its bowls of sherbet, corndogs, sushi and martinis pushed me well inside.

Ever since, I've drooled over almost any game that includes such nabables. A few examples: Coryoon, Monster Lair, The New Zealand Story and Parasol Stars. (For more, read my old post, "the 10 fruitiest games (of which I'm aware).")

Bubble Bobble shaped my current taste in video games in another way as well--by opening my eyes to the wonderful world of single-screen platformers. (Here are some of my favorites, in case you're curious.)

Was Bubble Bobble the first single-screen platformer to see the light of day? Not by a long shot. A game called The Fairyland Story--also published by Taito, interestingly enough--beat Bub and Bob to the arcades by at least a year, and I wouldn't be surprised if a handful of other titles could claim the same.

Regardless, Bubble Bobble introduced me to the genre that's now one of my favorites. And not only that, but in the ensuing decades, it's served as a point of comparison for every other single-screen platformer that's come my way.

Naturally, none of those wannabes have quite stacked up to this 1986 release. I think that's because the game they so desperately try to ape is supremely focused and straightforward.

A case in point: unlike most of the games that have tried to snatch its genre-king crown over the years, Bubble Bobble keeps its control scheme simple. You can jump, you can blow bubbles, you can hop on bubbles--and that's basically it. (OK, so some levels let you pop bubbles that send lightning bolts at enemies or cover platforms with swaths of fire, but they're in the minority. The bulk of the game's levels force you to focus on the trio of aforementioned actions.)

Also, Bubble Bobble's stages never take up more than a single screen (hence the name of the gaming genre that contains it). And then, of course, there are its timeless graphics and its grin-inducing background tune.

At the end of the day, though, the aspect that keeps me coming back to Bubble Bobble, and that causes me to label it "influential," is its unfailingly enjoyable gameplay. Even when one of its stages is kicking my butt (an all too regular occurrence, I'm afraid), it never stops being fun.

I can't say that about too many games, can you?

See also: previous '10 Most Influential Games' posts about The 7th Guest and Balloon Kid.

Manual Stimulation: Bubble Bobble (Famicom Disk System, Limited Edition)

A few weeks ago, I published a post about the manual that came with copies of Bubble Bobble bought from Japanese Famicom Disk Writer kiosks back in the late 1980s. (I also published a post filled with photos of that version's packaging.)

The booklet you see here was stuffed inside of an adorable plastic pencil case along with a copy of Bubble Bobble's surprisingly adept Famicom port. I refer to that release as a "limited edition" in the headline above, although I have to admit I'm not entirely sure it actually was limited in quantity.

Regardless, it helps differentiate this Bubble Bobble package from the previously mentioned Famicom Disk Writer one, so I'm sticking with it unless otherwise corrected.

At any rate, this Bubble Bobble Famicom instruction manual is similar to its Disk Writer counterpart with two major exceptions: the former is a lot larger than the latter (in fact, it's probably the biggest Famicom manual I've seen to date) and it's also in full color rather than in just pink and green.

The size of the Bubble Bobble Limited Edition's booklet is to blame for this post featuring single-page scans rather than double-page ones, by the way. My scanner just isn't big enough for me to capture entire spreads, so I was forced to go with what you'll encounter throughout this write-up.

In the end, some of you may consider that to be the preferred option, as it allows you to focus on the beauty that is this particular version of the Bubble Bobble Famicom manual.

And it is pretty darn beautiful, wouldn't you agree? OK, so the first few pages aren't mind-blowingly amazing or anything like that, but they're still packed with both big and small details that make them decidedly appealing--or at least that's how I think of them.

Take the adorable little illustrations that can be seen above and below. If you can't quite make them out, click on the scan in question and you'll be able to take a much closer look.

My favorite components, though, are the more substantial pieces of art, like the massive Super Drunk--or Super-Drunk as the back of this booklet proclaims--situated in the lower-right corner of the following page.