Today’s odd little freeware confection is Marti and Starsky Wong’s Little Fighter 2. It’s an arcade fighting game, featuring a quasi-generous range of play modes and a fantastic cast of the most formidable-looking midgets you’ll find anywhere. You don’t want to spill the beer of these microscopic miscreants, or try to steal their two-inch tall girlfriends. They’re angry little bastards. It’s like the irritating tiny yappy dogs women sometimes have. You could kick it straight over the roof of the house opposite if you wanted, but you sure as hell don’t want its teeth in your plums.
The little guys are all totally unique. There’s Deep, who lacks any major death-dealing ability at long range but brandishes a blade for close-and-personal sword to the eyeball shenanigans. Or you may opt for Henry the archer, for some ranged mightiness/not the face! my beautiful face! cowardice at close quarters. But this is reasonably mundane, standard stuff, which you can forego in favour of some real balls-out insanity. My personal favourite diminutive warrior, Bat, fires homing bats from his unruly mop of hair, which he also complements with the rather sexy eye-laser you see here. It’s an impressive party trick, is a real boon in a fight, and has the tertiary benefit of allowing him to perform impromptu cataract operations. Possibly. (I was also amused by the dude on the receiving end here, who appears to have sanctimoniously turned away. “I’ve told you guys, fighting like this isn’t the way to decide who gets to use the toilet first. Just let that dude go, he needs a dump. I’m not cleaning shit off the floor of this weird wrestling ring for an hour. Again. Incidentally, my friend, you have got to see a doctor about your ass.”) As the possessing-less-than-deft-command-of-the-English-language guide writer concludes, this character uses bats to track down the enemy and that makes him a nifty character. If the word nifty had actually been used in the last century or so, it’d certainly be a good one to describe Little Fighter 2's fireball, ice beam and a myriad of other elemental hijinks shitstorm.
The cast resembles Snow White’s merry band of seven dwarves. If the shortasses got totally pissed one night, gained magic powers and unthinkable quantities of hair gel, and shaved off those horrific beards of theirs. (hopefully they rounded off the evening by immolating the bastard things, in a catastrophic conflagration of awful facial hair.) And wanted to murder each other horribly. But after you’ve recovered from the overwhelming junkie on the trip of a lifetime what in the name of Satan’s foreskin am I looking at here? effect of the characters on offer, you have to choose a mode. Versus is one choice, as per convention. One to eight players can fight it out with teams and cpu players adjusted to your taste. But this isn’t all, as our grammatically-challenged friend hastens to make plain. Little Fighter 2 contains different game modes to arrange the maximum fun effect, he assures us whilst stroking our hair soothingly. He sure doesn’t speak false in this regard. (Whatever the hell he’s actually getting at, it’s tough to discern.) There’s also the cornucopia of combat that is battle mode, which finds a customized army on each side locked in a monumental dust-up in a small arena. (The first rule of fight club is, kick the shit out of twenty tiny guys simultaneously with that Grim Reaper scythe that materialised out of nowhere, while lasers, explosions and humongous projectiles fly all over the damn place like something out of Saving Private Ryan. There were other rules, but they couldn’t fit any more on the whiteboard in the shed they meet at after that one. They even tried writing it scarcely-legible weeny letters.) I’m going to gloss over the other menu offerings, on the simple grounds that they aren’t as ludicrous as this one.
Little Fighter 2 is ridiculously entertaining. It’s a game you’ll acquire, revel in with gluttonous delight like the fatass bear eating everything in sight before hibernation, then leave for a while. You’ll then rediscover it on your PC a while letter, and remember what a phantasmagoric experience it was. Perhaps. Suffice it to say, I’m the fatass bear, and this is pretty well how it went for me. You now know where the blame lies for this article.
If I have piqued your interest right up about the game, take a look at the official site
Article by Chris Littlechild
Like my work? Have feedback? Hit me with your mighty word-fists on Twitter