In my monthly selected but nontheless entirely made up antiquarian pensum, i always find interesting texts and fragments, which are worth to write them down. The recent find is an article about the ‘Best Video Games of the Year 1994’ in an old Gaming Magazine called “Play’O’Boy“, that aimed for an adult spectrum of readers, you might have guessed that, but it was not published by Huge Faugh. They were maybe too “progressive” in any way and ahead of their time no doubt, so they did not last long. But how surprised i was, when i thought “I know that ‘raunchy, slightly impatient, proudly lewd but lordy’ tone in that text” and found the authors name being that of my old pal Freddy Quim, poet, onomatopoet, turbo-apologist, crooner, in his adolescent days as midshipman on the seven seas and a feminist by heart (his words). Have a read.

Those were that: Best Video Games of the Year 1994

^{The Best Shoot’Em Up Video Game Ever Made!}

_{by Frederique Quim [click]}

Who didn’t played it the whole last year, on the platform of choice, till the bones of the thumbs were showing like in a bizarre xylophone player’s wet dream!? Some called it “Parodius’ mental twin“, “Turrican in super” or “Burai Fighter in deluxe“. It is nothing less than the already so mighty 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈 – “𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞”, puplished by 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒™, a firm, operative from Lompoc, California and Benzin, Germany.

What can i say that wasn’t lauded until now already,… maybe trying to find something negative in it, just for fun? Like that Thing, is that something? That within the Bone Shitter II community, players of all ages and classes, it became a common thing, rather quickly and to no mortifying effect, due the extensive character of the game, 580+ levels,– No way? Way! and no way to pause or save, other than switching off mid-game, is to let it flow, let it go, lay one beside you or perhaps having a stylish Bone-Shitter-Bucket at reach, why not made of sterling? To let off some steam here, as well as there. But what do i try to say here? All player praise this “feature” which intensifies the whole gaming experience adding a layer of reality, pretty much like running a marathon with diarrhoea on the last 5 kilometers, broadcasted live on Television. Without being live on Television. Or on Television at all. And a weak runners high because you’re stationary sitting,… Yeah. You might get the idea. And if you want to get granular with it, I am not shy to say: I shat in that one tupper box once. I had to. Swallow that, or don’t.

Anyways, further on our topic. For those gamers reading us under a rock, it might be thoroughly of interest, when I try to sum up the hardest facts about 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈 – “𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞”:

You, as the player, slip again into the “blood red from heel to head”- elephant leather suit of our hero Wroth Wroth, “the Body spraying Buff”, starting with a cattle prodder as a weapon, to hold the endless enemys in all forms, especially ones you never have thought of, at distance, like self-swinging buckets full of urine (they don’t say explicitly that it is piss, but it sure isn’t liquid gold), or swarms of Volkswagen beetles with a crash on you (Ewewewew).

The Difficulty is high as fuck like in all 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒™ and the only selectable option in the difficulty menu is “Bone me even harder“, yes. No cheat codes, as 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒™ always proudly underline with their only tip they give out: “Find your personal GOD-Mode: Go Inner Sanctum.”

Visual explosions, casual explosions, chaos, audible explosions, electric shock value everywhere, especially when the floor is lava. And poisoned. Hear the flutes that sound like being played in Bangkok at a sweaty backyard thaiboxing fight,where the crowd is waving with fists full of paper money. The frequently incoming calls on your videophone add even more distraction to the scene and have to do with an interspace toilet and someone who scratched your number on their walls, together with a both nasty and vague, but intriguing enough description of what to expect when calling.

Whatelse,…? Blasted body parts that seem to be supplied by a giant interstellar travelling circus from planet Jupiter and a lot of that precious frontal lobe pinching. Epilepsy warning? Yes, to ignore it. Because this is the only way to drill down the slay path once more and again, but 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒™ wouldn’t be who they are, if they kept back your only hope in this horrendously funny swinishness, trading the cattle rod for a ridiculously enorm weaponry and the manifold screen flash bombing combat combos, that will jolt every boss in the end, dozens of them for you to spray their bodies as a fine bloody haze into the ambiance and up the walls.

The fantastic screenshot is of one of the most tricky boss-areas,- but what do I say here? there are none that are not most tricky! And only can be described as byzantine and latively super! Open the picture in a new tab to view the original size.

Oh oh, right in time for a hysteric fit throw, i hear the music changing for you and running to the left isn’t anymore. Get ready for another boss and his auxillaries, ‘flupsch‘ with the pointer into that burr hole on your forehead once more, release the blood pressure and forward fast!