January 16, 2012 scottcjones 1Comment

Fact: Airplanes bound for Syracuse are always about as small and old as airplanes can get. That night’s plane out of Chicago was no exception. Picture a tube approximately 20 feet in length, with single seats on the left and pairs of seats on the right. As I walked down the aisle in search of my seat, I began hunching myself until I was practically doubled over, looking less like a man in search of seat 11A and more like I was experiencing severe gastrointestinal pain. Even Frodo Baggins would have felt claustrophobic inside this godforsaken thing.

Welcome aboard Knee-Smeller Air.

I found my seat, which looked like it was a seat that one day hoped to grow up to be a seat. I folded myself into this thing, my knees practically touching my chest. While buckling my seatbelt, the armrest suddenly shook loose in my hand. I blinked at it for a few seconds. Now, under normal circumstances, I would have seen the now-dislodged armrest as the worst possible omen. But tonight? Knowing that only minutes earlier I’d miraculously avoided having to spend the night staring up at the bottom of a chair plastered with prehistoric bubble gum while listening to the refrigerator inside the Cinnabon cycle on and off? The armrest, which I now noticed also had an ashtray built into it (omen two), didn’t alarm me in the least. I tucked it underneath the seat in front of me, ready to be hoisted into the skies, dislodged armrests be damned.

As the plane rumbled its way out to the runway, the pilot made a few announcements. “Sorry for the cool cabin temperature, folks,” he said. “This plane wasn’t scheduled to be used tonight, so we’re still trying to get it warmed up for you.” (Omen three.) “Also, we don’t have much in the way of refreshments on board. Our apologies. Good news is, this is a faster aircraft than the one we were supposed to take. So we’ll get you into Syracuse a little more quickly than we anticipated. Sit back, relax, enjoy the flight.”

As we picked up speed down the runway, something made of glass broke free in the galley and smashed to the floor (omen four). I didn’t care. No one seemed to care. Even the stewardess appeared to already be asleep in her seat. As the wheels lifted off the tarmac, as the tiny body of the plane groaned all around us, sounding for all the world like it was about to implode on itself, everyone sat back in their seats, small grins on their faces, relieved that we were finally out of limbo and heading someplace–anyplace–else.

Today’s level–level 2-4–is yet another showdown/boss fight with Donkey Kong. The level consists of a couple of platforms and a series of dangling vines. D.K. and Pauline are both perched in the top lefthand corner. D.K. is hurling what appear to be mechanical alligator heads from his perch. The heads travel vertically along the vines at random intervals. If you’re a student of videogames, then you recognize this as an homage to Donkey Kong Junior, the 1982 sequel to Donkey Kong. Side note: Donkey Kong Junior is the only game to ever couch Mario as a villain. Side question: What exactly happened to the character of Donkey Kong Junior? Did he somehow morph into the ballcap-wearing kong with attitude, Diddy Kong? Someone please explain.

Fact: Mario was a total dick in Donkey Kong Junior.

One thing I learn from my first few attempts to traverse the vines in level 2-4: Mario is the world’s slowest vine climber. It seems to take him forever to get anywhere on these damn vines. The mechanical alligator heads, known as Snapjaws, move quickly along the vines, resulting in three quick game-overs.

I especially like how, when Mario can’t quite make the jump to the next vine, he’ll poke out his leg and wiggle it for a few seconds in a frightened manner. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: there’s an awful lot of humanity and artfulness squeezed into this 18-year-old Game Boy game.

Once I manage to climb the vines to the top tier, I need to time my jumps so that I don’t collide with the Snapjaws that D.K. is tossing. This is, by far, the trickiest part of the level, as three more quick game-overs prove. Finally, I manage to get the timing right. I leap onto the platform next to Pauline, so close I can smell her perfume. (Kiss me, Pauline!) D.K. grabs her like she’s a sack of mail, then clambers up the ladder next to his perch.

Number of Marios who gave their lives for this level today: 6.

Sixteen levels in, and the difficulty is really starting to ramp up.

One thought on “Man Vs. Donkey Kong: Day 16

  1. Do you have to start over if you run out of Marios? Any way you can harvest some sweet sweet 1-ups from the easier levels?

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