A few days after I joined this community of videogames, I stuck around to try one called Donkey Kong ’94 (made for the Nintendo Game Boy console). I could remember the days I watched videos of it being played by different people. It was a masterpiece.
Each of its levels was so complex that I thought of them as jigsaw puzzles (because I put every part of a level together by making it through). It took long for me to finish any of them by getting stuck, losing a try, or doing both at once. Each time I tried again, I explored them further. I found clues (levers, hammers, drag-and-drop items, icicles, trash cans, wires, ropes, and enemies that could carry me) that led me closer to the key, then the door. I had fun getting through them more quickly when I got the hang of it.
The game had a flawlessly artistic design: its graphics were cute and comical. I liked Mario's (the protagonist's) amusing animations: falling flat to a floor, sinking, and getting burnt, electrocuted, squashed, and stunned. The colors and drawings of those places (Construction Site, Big City, Forest, Ship, Jungle, Pyramid, Airplane, Iceberg, Rocky Valley, and Tower) made the game (in its Super Game Boy version) look as lively as a high school diorama. It was the work of a true genius.
The soundtrack was marvelous. The song of the Ship was so soothing that I felt like I was on vacation. The tune of the Pyramid was so charming that I felt like a snake. The symphony of the Iceberg was so chilling that I felt lonely. I literally faced the music and it sounded so good.
It had a riveting tale as well. It was like a romantic comedy because Mario and DK (the antagonist) were fighting over Pauline (the damsel in distress) in various and hilarious ways: they hurled things at each other and messed with elevators and conveyor belts. Even DK Jr. (the accomplice) loaded me with laughter: he tried to shrink Mario with weird mushrooms. As the story grew, the game got deeper and more difficult. In front of me were more stuff to chuck, foes to hammer, and pathways to make by using the drag-and-drop items. I was so addicted to the game that I wanted to recomplete it once a day. In fact, I did this for three times. This was one of the greatest stories in a game which made me laugh and love in happiness.
Playing Donkey Kong ‘94 was one of the neatest memories I had at this website of emulated wonders. I pulled off insane tricks (handstands, backflips, double jumps, and side somersaults) and used those drag-and-drop items for hard-to-reach places with collectibles and exits. The final boss gave me the most excitement: it was the hardest part, but it also became a little easy when I got used to its predictable patterns. I loved watching the cut-scenes after beating a mini-boss or normal boss: they make the gameplay look more awesome, amazing, and exciting. From reliving those cool, challenging moments, that game gave me the joy I wanted.
A few days after I joined this community of videogames, I stuck around to try one called Donkey Kong ’94 (made for the Nintendo Game Boy console). I could remember the days I watched videos of it being played by different people. It was a masterpiece.
Each of its levels was so complex that I thought of them as jigsaw puzzles (because I put every part of a level together by making it through). It took long for me to finish any of them by getting stuck, losing a try, or doing both at once. Each time I tried again, I explored them further. I found clues (levers, hammers, drag-and-drop items, icicles, trash cans, wires, ropes, and enemies that could carry me) that led me closer to the key, then the door. I had fun getting through them more quickly when I got the hang of it.
The game had a flawlessly artistic design: its graphics were cute and comical. I liked Mario's (the protagonist's) amusing animations: falling flat to a floor, sinking, and getting burnt, electrocuted, squashed, and stunned. The colors and drawings of those places (Construction Site, Big City, Forest, Ship, Jungle, Pyramid, Airplane, Iceberg, Rocky Valley, and Tower) made the game (in its Super Game Boy version) look as lively as a high school diorama. It was the work of a true genius.
The soundtrack was marvelous. The song of the Ship was so soothing that I felt like I was on vacation. The tune of the Pyramid was so charming that I felt like a snake. The symphony of the Iceberg was so chilling that I felt lonely. I literally faced the music and it sounded so good.
It had a riveting tale as well. It was like a romantic comedy because Mario and DK (the antagonist) were fighting over Pauline (the damsel in distress) in various and hilarious ways: they hurled things at each other and messed with elevators and conveyor belts. Even DK Jr. (the accomplice) loaded me with laughter: he tried to shrink Mario with weird mushrooms. As the story grew, the game got deeper and more difficult. In front of me were more stuff to chuck, foes to hammer, and pathways to make by using the drag-and-drop items. I was so addicted to the game that I wanted to recomplete it once a day. In fact, I did this for three times. This was one of the greatest stories in a game which made me laugh and love in happiness.
Playing Donkey Kong ‘94 was one of the neatest memories I had at this website of emulated wonders. I pulled off insane tricks (handstands, backflips, double jumps, and side somersaults) and used those drag-and-drop items for hard-to-reach places with collectibles and exits. The final boss gave me the most excitement: it was the hardest part, but it also became a little easy when I got used to its predictable patterns. I loved watching the cut-scenes after beating a mini-boss or normal boss: they make the gameplay look more awesome, amazing, and exciting. From reliving those cool, challenging moments, that game gave me the joy I wanted.
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