If you want to understand me, and all of my psychosis…all you really need to do is watch
a Road Runner cartoon.
When I was a kid, my weekends always had with the same schedule.
Looney Tunes, every Saturday morning.
All Saturday morning.
Anvils, dynamite, wooden mallets.
Had no idea know what heights we’d hit, but on with the show.
That was it.
Then I’d play Mega Man for a while and take a nap.
Point is, my view of the world around me was mostly informed by Bob Clampett, Chuck Jones
and the Nintendo Entertainment System.
And when those things combined, my fertile young mind was ready for sowing, and…
Well, that’s how you grow a Derek.
Don’t feed me after midnight.
It’s Road Runner, for the NES.
So this is it, you guys.
This one little black cartridge.
This was a big part of my childhood.
My parents let me rent one video game every weekend during the winter, when it was too
cold to outside.
We’d go to the local rental store, and we’d walk…into the room.
I’ll never forget the room, man.
The walls were covered with NES games, from the ceiling to the floor.
And I’m, like…a little kid.
So they seemed 50 feet high, you know?
Just…boxes and boxes, further than I could ever reach.
Or even see.
But there was one game that was always in the same spot, on that same loose shelf in
the corner.
It was Road Runner, my favorite cartoon from my favorite cartoons…so obviously,
I grabbed this one a lot of the time.
‘Cause I loved this one.
Also ‘cause…you know, I could reach this one.
Doesn’t mean I could play this one, though.
I mean, I played it a lot, but…I didn’t play it very well.
This game was not easy, that’s all I knew as a kid.
I knew that somehow, some way, I was coyote dinner, before everything was said and done.
I mean, how am I supposed to outrun a coyote who’s not only a genius, but also has a
freaking jet pack?
Well, that’s where adulthood comes in.
I hadn’t seen this game in 20 years.
Until now.
And playing it as an older, wiser Derek, I finally figured it out.
One of the last great holes in my life has finally been filled.
It just hit me.
Like the epiphanies Mr. Coyote always had, only this one worked.
See, if you keep him on screen, he doesn’t use his jet pack.
It’s so…it’s so simple.
He doesn’t use it.
Now, it’s so easy.
After 20 years…finally.
Road Runner is no longer a problem.
Except for…you know, all its other problems.
Road Runner is both really simple…and really strange.
Simple in that you’re the Road Runner, and you’re running from Wile E. Coyote.
But strange in that…you’re running to the left.
Strange in that you can walk right over things and not pick them up.
Strange in that…the level designs are so unfair, this ends up being one of the cheapest
NES games ever.
And this is a game based on a cartoon, you know?
This is a game for kids.
Course, in the 80s, that didn’t mean anything.
Pretty sure that’s part of the whole psychosis thing.
So there are only four levels.
Which sounds weird until you realize that Road Runner was originally an arcade game.
So it’s kind of like Donkey Kong, the levels keep repeating once you’ve gone through
them.
And your objective is two-fold.
Obviously, to run from Eatibus Anythingus…but also to eat bird seed.
You can only miss so much of it before…
Well, the coyote gets to eat.
Which breaks one of the most important laws of the Road Runner cartoons, but hey, what
the hell.
It’s an unlicensed Tengen cartridge.
This game broke a lot of laws, let’s not nitpick here.
And that’s where the game’s first big problem hits you.
Like an anvil.
The hit detection is so awful, you can walk right over the bird seed and still miss it.
Which means you have to run back over the bird seed all the time.
And when the objective is to also run away from the coyote, it’s sort of a problem
to go back over something you already went over.
That’s as frustrating as buying so many products from a company that you’re pretty
much keeping them in business…and yet not a single f*cking one of them ever actually
works.
Pfft.
Acme.
Get a new catalog, man.
Anyway, the bad hit detection doesn’t give up there.
It’s like the coyote.
It keeps coming.
Which is actually kind of admirable.
See all those crazy twists and turns and thin roads?
Oh, those are great when you’re getting stuck on corners all the time.
Again, being chased by a carnivorous predator.
Freaking…Apetitus Giganticus.
Oh, let’s have bad hit detection, that’s fun.
Hey, you know what else?
Let’s design the levels so they’re a guessing game.
Which road’s the right road?
Which one’s the dead end?
I don’t know.
Trial and error is awesome game design.
Yeah, if you work at Acme.
Those two things, really.
Bad hit detection, some really bad level design.
That’s what holds this game back.
‘Cause otherwise, I had fun with it.
I love the concept.
I love that the coyote actually uses some Acme gadgets.
I love the primitive graphics, and the crappy soundtrack, it’s terrific.
And actually, that’s another lesson I learned from revisiting this game.
It’s really bad…but it’s not that far from being pretty good.
I guess there’s a fine line between jet pack and bomb.
It’s Road Runner, for the Nintendo Entertainment System.
And an extra special thanks to Gary from Ridgewood, New Jersey, both for sending this to the show…and
for facilitating flashbacks to 1989.
Man, I miss those days.