After some impromptu focus testing, I’d decided to shorten the name of my game from Plight of the Baby Sea Turtle to simply Turtle, because the words “plight of the baby sea turtle” were difficult for people to remember, and because they wouldn’t fit comfortably on a videogame box cover. Then I decided to add an exclamation point after the title, because Turtle! sounded like a more exciting game than Turtle. As I was blessed with an almost embarrassing amount of artistic talent (see: my unprecedented string of fire prevention-poster wins), I proceeded to make a mock-up of the Turtle! box cover, complete with a gasping, cartoonish baby turtle in the foreground (I’d outfitted the turtle with a beanie with a spinning propeller on top and a large diaper), and a gang of salivating enemies bearing down on him in the background. Then, I got carried away, and went so far as to add a price tag of “$69.99” to the box cover, only to immediately cross it out and write “$79.99” in its place.

At school I took more informal polls, asking classmates leading questions like, “So, would you be interested in playing an incredibly fun game about a baby sea turtle that’s being chased by dingoes and vultures? Yes or no?” and, “So, would you like to play a videogame that is a hybrid of Frogger and Missile Command only it would be about a hundred times more fun than either one of those games? Yes or no?”

Of course, the answer was always an emphatic “yes.” And it was those “yeses,” which sounded like a chorus of angels to me, that I heard when I sat down at my VIC-20 after school, rolled up my sleeves, and really dug into the Machine Code Monitor cartridge for the first time. I thought to myself, Look out, Pitfall! Because I’m coming for you.

I snapped the cartridge into the computer, then switched on the power. The tiny black and white TV in my parents’ bedroom flickered to life. Here’s the first screen that I encountered: 

Confused as to what exactly I was looking at, I cracked open the cartridge’s Bible-thick instruction manual. The opening chapter was titled, “INTRODUCTION TO VICMON.” “VICMON,” the chapter explained, “is the nickname of the hexadecimal machine code monitor designed to enable easy debugging of machine code programs which are resident in a VIC-20 computer system.

“This manual,” it continued, “does not set out to teach machine code programming on the VIC. Before attempting to use machine code on the VIC, you should refer to the following: MOS 6502 Programming Manuals, 6502 Assembly Language Programming by Leventhal, etc.” The list went on to recommend three or four more texts, but my eyes had unfortunately already begun to glaze over at that point. In that moment, as I stared at the VIC-20’s blinking cursor on the television screen, all production on Turtle! came to a sudden, unexpected halt.

Stage 8-13. Welcome to the thirteenth stage of ROCKY VALLEY. Today’s stage is a bit of a puzzler, though it’s nothing your Donkey Kong-conquering brain can’t handle at this point. The key to solving today’s stage: proper placement of the portable bridge power-up. The exit door is at the very top of the stage, the giant key at the very bottom, and in between stands a seed-spitting plant (the sole enemy in today’s stage, unless you count time, which expires fairly quickly), two ladders, and a digression of stair-like platforms. Let’s begin.

Climb down the nearby ladder—all the way down—and trigger the portable bridge power-up. Place the makeshift bridge underneath you, effectively completing the platform that the key is stranded on. Hustle down to the makeshift bridge and grab 1. the handbag, and 2. the sun hat. Pro Tip: You’ll have to use a handstand super-jump to reach the sun hat. Also: bear in mind that this won’t be the last super-jump you’ll be performing today.

Once you have those two items, head for ladder number two—the one right next to the key—and climb it. It connects with the platform bearing the seed-spitting plant. Step into the path of the slow-moving seeds, head to the right, and make your way back to the area where the portable bridge power-up is located, using the digression of small platforms to get there.

Trigger the power-up a second time, then—pay attention here—place it between the left-most ladder and the wall, about midway between the top of the key and the bottom of the umbrella. Once it’s in position, make your way over to the area, climb on top of the key, jump up to the portable bridge, then jump a second time to claim the umbrella. Congratulations: you’ve collected all of Pauline’s “lady accoutrements” for the day.

Once again, climb the ladder next to the key, and again step into the pathway of the floating seeds, and head all the back to the portable bridge power-up for a third time. Trigger it, then position it a tick or two above the platform where the key is located. The bridge should ideally form a temporary stepping stone of sorts between the platform where the key is located and the area where the portable bridge power-up is located.

Head over to the key, grab it, then, using the portable bridge, immediately retrace your steps, back to the area where the portable bridge power-up can be triggered. Trigger it once more—promise that’s the last time for today—and place it at the very top of the screen. It should be directly in the path of the slow-moving seeds. With key still in hand, quickly use the stair-like platforms to reach the plant’s level. Use a jump-toss to hurl the key up to the bridge above you. Hop up there yourself. Reclaim the key, then use a jump-toss to hurl it to the very top tier of the level. Then, using a handstand super-jump—yes, this is the second one I mentioned earlier—jump up there yourself.

Reclaim the key, then head to the exit. You’re done for the day. Twelve more days to go from here. Also: after my Mario-harvesting session last night prior to a screening of Wrath of the Titans (which is wretched, by the way), I began today with a cool 45 Marios in my Mario Tank. See? Mario harvesting does work. And no, it’s not the least bit inhumane.