Battletoads: Digital Saviors

March 20, 2011

I was a weak, sickly child; prone to skin rashes, bloody noses and emotions.  I was disgusting. 

--That is, until I started playing Battletoads for NES.  Originally, NES stood for "Nintendo Entertainment System."  After the release of Battletoads it was re-designated as the "Neo-tech Estrogen Slayer," because that's exactly what this game does.   

I used to care deeply about small animals, motorbike safety, and solving problems through non-violent means.  The Battletoads just happen to be experts at the exact opposite, and it saved my childhood.

Zitz, Pimple, and Rash have been separated: Pimple has been toad-napped!  The other two must leap (get it?) to his rescue.  It doesn't really matter which one you pick, in the same way it doesn't matter whether you choose to arm-wrestle Zeus or Odin; if there's any difference, you're far too low of a life-form to be able to comprehend it.

Dropping into the various levels perfectly sets the stage for your amphibian anger: punk-rocker S&M pigs, nappy crows and flouncing rodents endlessly creep towards your starving fists--and what fists they are.  Blinding punch combinations are topped off with engorged, throbbing uppercuts which send your prey into low orbit.  Double hammer-fists drive your idiot attackers into the ground like tent pegs, setting them up for soccer kicks so glorious that they are forbidden in UFC contracts.  Headbutts, evocative of the mighty, virile Ram send your foes hurtling towards a lifetime of repeat surgeries and a persistent, nagging sense of uselessness. 

Parts of enemies are scavenged and used as swords and bludgeons.  The Toads are so full of frog fury that they often squash each other in two-player mode, or leave them behind to be scrolled to death.  It all adds to the frantic pace and combat-high.  Battletoads is Adderall for your nuts.  Perhaps nothing demonstrates this so fully as level 3: Caves.

What starts off as standard-fare spelunking/aggravated assault quickly descends into anti-gravity, hyper-speed Pandemonium.  If you can jump between the gooey pads well enough to avoid the death-by-playground-balls below, you arrive at your trusty mount.  By "trusty" I mean that this thing is guaranteed to murder you several dozen times before you figure out how to operate it correctly.  There are only two levels of hover-bike proficiency in this game: Beast and Corpse.    

Moving at the speed of Freedom has its price: you must have a profound understanding of physics and dedication to evading obstacles whilst atop the hover-bike.  Anything less, and...well, you can guess what would happen.

It seems rigged at first, but upon close study one realizes that the game's programming is perfect; it is your mind's algorithms which must evolve in order to proceed.  Pillars pass.  Hurdles are cleared.  Faster.  Ramps.  Hovering pillars.  Hovering ramps.  Faster.  Central pillars.  Hovering hurdles.  Faster.  Vitamin deficiencies.  Nervous tics.  Calluses.  Pressure sores.  FASTER, goddamn it! 

That's not even half the game.

H-...Ha...Happy...