Image credit: MisterKaseijin
Last week came the least revelatory revelation in the history of... revelation...ing. Those ubiquitous poké-dicks will be continuing their inexorable march to a bizarre form of Asian mutated-wildlife world domination this year. As anybody with even the most meager passing grade in Gameology class will attest, this series has been unleashed in pairs since its inception with Pokémon Red and Blue in the nineties. The concept behind these twin releases, presumably, is to always hit the market like two merrily-swinging golden bollocks, stuffed full of dollar bills and precious stones.
Well, that’s probably not the idea, but it’s unerringly the result of every ludicrously-prolific release in the franchise. Pokémon X and Y, then, making a prospective October 2013 appearance on 3DS, are sure to keep our friends in the Orient in sake and stylish pinstripe suits for paunchy businessmen for some time. “At least little Jimmy isn’t eating pot brownies and smearing his own shit up his bedroom walls like his friends,” Jimmy’s dad reasoned, as his wallet was punched right in the dick again by the pocket monsters phenomenon.
But what of us dudely dudes? It’s probably safe to venture that no shits are given about Pokémon around these parts. You’re unlikely to find a franchise in the gaming spectrum that’s less mantastic (that recent release Let’s Watch Lifetime TV and, Y’Know, Have In-Depth Discussions About Our Feelings and Shit III: This Time, We’re Out of Sensible, Low-Fat Snacks notwithstanding). Regardless, there is a way to restore some semblance of manly credentials to the series, and it was craptacular N64 spin-off Pokémon Snap that shows us the way. What we must do, gentlemen, is give the little bastards guns.
Snap was a preposterous 1st-person perspective affair, wherein you were the assistant of a flamboyant, (possibly) homosexual professor. Brandishing a camera, and cruising on rails around certain poké-infested locales, you would take photographs on route around a fleeting level. The denouement of each involved a score being tallied, with bonus points for centering the freakish critters in the frame, any action they may be partaking in, and so forth. It was, if we may be frank, a hideous heap of horseshit (Frank agrees, although we can’t fathom how he’s evaded security again. Damn it, Frank! Get out of my office! Buy some pants too.). It was also the inspiration for an illusory Pokémon FPS.
In the midst of the tedious camera-flailing, you had the capacity to aim items at the rampant 'mon. Food would entice apprehensive beasts into appearing. There was also, if memory serves, something you could heave right into their delicate furry faces to piss them off, a stone or a Wile. E Coyote ACME anvil or whatever the hell it was. This had the twofold purpose of being unintentionally hilarious and making your victim 'attack,’ making for an impressive (in a ghastly blur-infused nineties graphics sense, naturellement) shitstorm of thunder or fire or whatever element said beast has an affinity for.
In short, rudimentary FPS mechanics were abundant in Pokémon Snap (or, as we’ve dubbed it -how’s this for a zinger?- Pokémon... Crap. Take a moment to recuperate from the harm that ballistic missile full of wit to the face may have caused, and we’ll proceed). Why, then, have Nintendo not developed a wondrous fusion of Pokémon and Call of Duty? Instil it with a copious quantity of Mortal Kombat’s uber-violent theatrics, and you’ve got a manly bestseller of apocalyptic proportions.
In the spirit of similarly shit-sucking voice-recognition software failure Hey You, Pikachu!, this new venture could be dubbed Hey You, Pikachu! Stop Pointing That Shotgun At My Genitals. We await Nintendo’s email response to our proposal with the utmost trepidation. Hopefully, it won’t just be another jpeg of some bastard giving the finger.