Retro Reflections: Conker’s Bad Fur Day

How Did Rare Get Away With This?

Revisiting the Games That Shaped a Lifetime of Gaming

There was one thought that kept coming back to me throughout my return to Conker’s Bad Fur Day.

How did Rare get away with putting this on a Nintendo console?

Nintendo had built a reputation around games that could be enjoyed by almost anyone. Yet here was a Nintendo 64 game involving alcohol, swearing, violence, toilet humour and more than a few moments that made me wonder how some of it ever made it onto the cartridge.

And somehow, underneath all of that, there was still a very good game.

From Diddy Kong Racing to a Very Bad Day

Perhaps the strangest part is remembering where Conker started.

His first released appearance was in Diddy Kong Racing in 1997. There he was just another colourful Rare character racing around Timber’s Island alongside Diddy, Banjo, Krunch and the rest of the cast.

Nothing about that version of Conker suggested what was coming.

And Diddy Kong Racing wasn’t the only appearance of the more innocent Conker.

In 1999, he received his own adventure with Conker’s Pocket Tales for the Game Boy Color. Once again, this was the sort of colourful, family-friendly adventure you’d expect from a Rare character at the time. Conker was trying to recover his stolen birthday presents and rescue Berri after they were kidnapped by the Evil Acorn.

Then, two years later, Conker’s Bad Fur Day happened.

The tonal shift is enormous.

The cheerful squirrel from Diddy Kong Racing and Conker’s Pocket Tales was suddenly a heavy-drinking, foul-mouthed protagonist who begins his adventure hungover after a night in the pub and simply wants to find his way home.

Knowing what Conker had been before makes Bad Fur Day even more bizarre. Rare didn’t create a new adult character for this kind of game. They took an existing character who had already appeared in two family-friendly Nintendo games and completely reinvented him.

Things don’t exactly improve for Conker from there.

Rare Didn’t Hold Back

One thing I noticed throughout this playthrough was that whenever Bad Fur Day has an idea, it commits to it completely.

The game doesn’t seem particularly concerned about whether something is sensible.

Sometimes that works brilliantly. Sometimes I found myself wondering what I had just witnessed.

But it means the adventure is constantly changing. One moment Conker is platforming, the next he’s racing, dealing with dinosaurs, fighting the undead, carrying a shotgun, driving a tank or taking part in a war against the Tediz.

The game also wears its film influences proudly. The Tediz section suddenly turns Conker’s adventure into a war movie, while the final stretch throws in an unmistakable Matrix-style heist before eventually heading firmly into Alien territory.

It shouldn’t really fit together.

Somehow, in Bad Fur Day, it does.

There were certainly moments where the controls reminded me that I was playing a game from the Nintendo 64 era, particularly when the game started demanding more precise movement or shooting. At times, controlling Conker could feel like another obstacle that needed to be survived.

But there was always something new waiting around the corner.

Gregg the Grim Reaper

Gregg might be one of my favourite examples of the game’s humour.

When you hear that you’re about to meet the Grim Reaper, you probably have a fairly good idea of what to expect.

Gregg is almost the complete opposite.

He’s tiny, has a voice you wouldn’t normally associate with the personification of death, and behaves less like a terrifying supernatural entity and more like an irritated employee who has been stuck doing the same job for far too long.

He also hates cats.

Not because there’s anything particularly sinister about them, but because having nine lives creates more work for him.

Later in the adventure, Gregg returns and hands Conker a shotgun so he can deal with the undead.

At that point, it barely seemed unusual anymore.

The Great Mighty Poo

Of course, there is one character that can’t really be avoided when talking about Conker’s Bad Fur Day.

The Great Mighty Poo.

By the time I reached him, I thought I’d developed a reasonable understanding of the sort of things this game was willing to throw at me.

Then I had to fight an opera-singing pile of poo.

There’s something almost admirable about how completely Rare commits to the idea. This isn’t a quick joke before the game moves on. The Great Mighty Poo gets an entire boss battle built around his performance while Conker fights back using toilet rolls.

It’s juvenile. It’s ridiculous. And it’s also one of the most memorable encounters in the entire game.

More than twenty-five years after Bad Fur Day was released, the fact that an opera-singing pile of poo remains one of its most recognisable moments probably tells you everything you need to know about this game.

Then Things Get Dark

For all the toilet humour, film references and general insanity, Bad Fur Day becomes surprisingly dark as the adventure progresses.

The war against the Tediz is probably where that becomes most obvious. Conker goes from dealing with increasingly ridiculous situations to being dropped into something that feels like Rare’s version of a war film.

There are Tediz, flamethrowers, lasers, machine guns and eventually a tank.

By the final stretch, the game changes again.

A Matrix-style heist eventually brings Conker face to face with the Panther King, only for Heinrich to make sure that encounter doesn’t go quite according to plan.

That leaves Conker with one final battle.

And after everything the game had thrown at me, fighting an alien felt like an entirely appropriate way for it to end.

Being King Wasn’t Quite the Happy Ending

The ending might be one of the most surprising things about Bad Fur Day.

Conker wins.

He becomes king.

On paper, that’s the sort of ending you’d expect from a platforming adventure.

Except Conker isn’t particularly happy about it.

Berri is gone, and when Conker is given the opportunity to change what happened, he realises too late that he forgot to ask for her back.

After spending the entire game trying to get home, he ends up sitting on a throne surrounded by characters from his adventure, reflecting on what he’s lost.

It’s an unexpectedly bleak conclusion for a game that contains an opera-singing pile of poo.

The Other Bad Day That Never Happened

While looking through walkthroughs during this playthrough to jog my memory about what was coming next, I discovered something I hadn’t realised before.

There was supposed to be another bad day.

Rare had plans for a proper sequel, commonly known as Conker’s Other Bad Day, which would have continued Conker’s story after the ending of the original.

It never happened.

Instead, Bad Fur Day eventually returned through Conker: Live & Reloaded, but the planned continuation of Conker’s story was left behind.

Knowing that makes the ending of Bad Fur Day slightly more interesting to me. Conker’s story ends in a deliberately uncomfortable place, and there was once an intention to show what happened afterwards.

We’re still waiting.

The Journey

This return to Conker’s Bad Fur Day was recorded as a complete no-commentary playthrough. If you’d like to experience Conker’s increasingly unfortunate adventure from beginning to end, you can watch the full playlist on YouTube.

New adventures begin on the Survivor Incognito Facebook page, where videos are released first before joining the weekly YouTube archive.


â–¶ Watch the complete Conker’s Bad Fur Day playthrough on YouTube


📘 Follow Survivor Incognito on Facebook

One Bad Fur Day Later

When the credits finally rolled, there weren’t any tears of joy this time.

I was just pleased I’d finished it.

And I don’t mean that negatively.

Conker’s Bad Fur Day had taken me through one of the strangest adventures I’ve revisited so far. I’d fought cavemen, dinosaurs, zombies, Tediz and an opera-singing pile of poo. I’d driven a tank, survived a war, taken part in a Matrix-style heist and eventually fought an alien.

Some parts have aged better than others. The controls occasionally tested my patience, and there were definitely moments where I was fighting the game almost as much as whatever happened to be standing in front of Conker.

But I can understand why Bad Fur Day developed the reputation it has.

There really isn’t much else like it.

Rare took the innocent little squirrel who had appeared in Diddy Kong Racing and Conker’s Pocket Tales, gave him the worst hangover imaginable, and sent him through an adventure that somehow became progressively more ridiculous and darker at the same time.

More than twenty-five years later, I’m still not entirely sure how they got away with putting it on a Nintendo console.

I’m glad they did.

Retro Reflections: Banjo-Kazooie

Nearly Thirty Years Later, the Rare Magic Is Still There

Revisiting the Games That Shaped a Lifetime of Gaming

Gruntilda had been defeated.

Every Jiggy had been collected. Every musical note had been found. Every Jinjo had been rescued. The final Honeycomb Pieces were mine.

There was nothing left to collect.

After working my way through Grunty’s Furnace Fun and climbing to the top of the lair for one final battle, Banjo and Kazooie’s adventure was over.

Nearly thirty years after the game was first released, I had completed Banjo-Kazooie again.

And somehow, the magic was still there.

Following Super Mario 64

In 1998, Banjo-Kazooie was released to the world, two years after Super Mario 64 had helped establish what a 3D platformer could be.

Rare have never been shy about the fact that Banjo-Kazooie took inspiration from Mario’s first 3D adventure, and playing the two games makes some of those influences fairly easy to see.

Both send you into self-contained worlds filled with objectives. Both gradually open up a larger hub as you progress. Both are built around exploring 3D spaces in a way that was still relatively new at the time.

But Banjo-Kazooie never felt like it was simply trying to copy Super Mario 64.

Rare took that foundation and built something with an identity of its own.

Nearly thirty years later, the obvious question is whether Banjo-Kazooie still holds up in the same way.

For me, the answer is yes.

That Rare Magic

There was something about Rare during that period that gave their games a character all of their own.

It is difficult to properly define what that Rare magic actually was.

The characters were part of it. The music was part of it. The humour certainly helped. Even the way their worlds were designed had a particular feeling that was difficult to find anywhere else.

You just knew when you were playing a Rare game.

Banjo-Kazooie has that feeling running through almost everything it does.

Even Yooka-Laylee, developed many years later by a team that included former Rare developers, carries some of that same DNA. It isn’t a Rare game, but there are moments where that familiar feeling manages to break through.

Going back to Banjo-Kazooie reminded me just how strong that identity originally was.

Every World Had a Personality

One of the things that still impresses me is how different each world feels.

Mumbo’s Mountain doesn’t feel like Treasure Trove Cove.

Bubblegloop Swamp doesn’t feel like Freezeezy Peak.

Mad Monster Mansion couldn’t be further removed from Rusty Bucket Bay.

They might all follow the same basic idea of exploring, finding Jiggies and collecting musical notes, but Rare gave every location its own personality.

The music changes.

The enemies change.

The characters change.

Even the way you interact with the world changes depending on where you are.

Freezeezy Peak has you climbing an enormous snowman and helping a family of polar bears. Mad Monster Mansion turns Banjo into a pumpkin and sends him squeezing through places he normally couldn’t reach. Rusty Bucket Bay replaces bright open landscapes with polluted water, machinery and the inside of a cargo ship.

Then there is Click Clock Wood.

Rather than simply creating one final large world, Rare built the same location around four different seasons.

Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter all use the same basic landscape, but what you do during one season can affect what happens later.

Something planted in Spring grows by Summer.

Characters change as time passes.

Paths open and disappear.

By Winter, you are still standing in Click Clock Wood, but the world feels completely different from the place you first entered.

It remains one of my favourite ideas in the entire game.

The Little Details

Then there are the things that don’t really matter at all.

Those might be some of my favourite parts.

One example is the Blue Jinjo.

Something I have always noticed is that whenever a world gives Rare the opportunity, the Blue Jinjo has a habit of appearing in or around water.

It became one of those little patterns I found myself looking for whenever I entered another world.

Freezeezy Peak and Click Clock Wood don’t really follow it, but by then the association had already been made.

Blue Jinjo.

Find the water.

It doesn’t affect the game.

There is no reward for noticing it.

Rare didn’t need to do it.

But those are exactly the kinds of details that make the worlds feel like somebody was having fun putting them together.

A Collectathon That Still Works

At its heart, Banjo-Kazooie is absolutely a collectathon.

There are Jiggies.

There are musical notes.

There are Jinjos.

There are Honeycomb Pieces.

There are Mumbo Tokens.

There is always something else waiting around the next corner.

What surprised me was how rarely that collecting felt like I was simply clearing items from a checklist.

Most Jiggies have something attached to them.

A character needs help.

A puzzle needs solving.

A new ability opens somewhere that couldn’t previously be reached.

Mumbo turns Banjo into something increasingly questionable and suddenly the world can be explored from a completely different perspective.

There were still moments where the collecting fought back.

Apparently my greatest enemy throughout this expedition wasn’t Gruntilda.

It was groups of five musical notes.

Bubblegloop Swamp left me wandering around trying to work out where the final five had gone.

Then Rusty Bucket Bay decided to do exactly the same thing.

There is something uniquely frustrating about knowing you have collected ninety-five notes and that the remaining five are sitting somewhere in a world you have already searched.

Still, I found them.

Eventually.

Always Looking Ahead

Something else I appreciated more during this playthrough was how often Rare seemed to be looking towards whatever came next.

Gobi provides one of the more memorable examples.

After spending the game having his water taken from him, he finally reaches his limit in Click Clock Wood and runs off, declaring that he is heading for the lava world.

He seems fairly confident Banjo and Kazooie won’t follow him there.

Anyone familiar with Banjo-Tooie knows how well that worked out for him.

Whether Rare always intended that line to lead directly into the sequel or simply returned to the idea later, it now feels like a small thread connecting the two games.

Mumbo gets in on it as well.

Although it didn’t happen during my playthrough, his magic can occasionally go wrong and transform Banjo into a washing machine.

He also talks about being able to turn Banjo into a T-Rex, before deciding that transformation is too powerful and should be saved for the next game.

Both ideas would eventually return in Banjo-Tooie.

Even after Gruntilda has been defeated, Rare isn’t quite finished teasing the future.

Banjo, Kazooie and Mumbo are already talking about the next adventure.

The game gives you an ending.

It just never really says goodbye.

Grunty’s Final Examination

Before reaching that ending, there is one last obstacle waiting inside Gruntilda’s Lair.

Grunty’s Furnace Fun.

I had forgotten how much I liked the idea behind it.

Instead of immediately throwing you into another difficult platforming section, the game effectively gives you an exam.

Questions test your knowledge of the worlds you’ve explored, the characters you’ve met and the sounds you’ve heard throughout the adventure.

Even Brentilda’s strange pieces of information about her sister suddenly become useful.

After spending the entire game travelling through Gruntilda’s Lair, Furnace Fun asks whether you were actually paying attention.

Then, once that is finished, the game tests something else.

Your ability to play it.

The Final Battle

By the time Banjo and Kazooie finally reach Gruntilda, there are no more moves left to learn.

You already have everything you need.

The final battle expects you to prove that you know how to use it.

Eggs become important.

Golden Feathers become important.

Flight returns.

The Beak Bomb returns.

Eventually even the Jinjos you’ve spent the game rescuing become part of the fight.

I like that structure.

Grunty’s Furnace Fun tests your knowledge of the adventure.

Gruntilda tests the skills that should have been honed throughout it.

One tests what you remember.

The other tests what you’ve learned.

It makes the final stretch feel like an examination of the entire game rather than simply another boss waiting at the end.

Then Gruntilda falls.

And suddenly there is nothing left.

The Journey

This journey through Banjo-Kazooie was recorded as a complete no-commentary playthrough, following Banjo and Kazooie from Spiral Mountain through every world of Gruntilda’s Lair and eventually into the final battle itself.

Every Jiggy was collected.

Every musical note was found.

Every Jinjo was rescued.

Every Honeycomb Piece was collected.

If you’d like to follow the expedition from the beginning, you can watch the complete Banjo-Kazooie expedition on YouTube.

New expeditions begin on the Survivor Incognito Facebook page, where videos are released first before joining the weekly YouTube archive.

Still Magical After All These Years

So, nearly thirty years after its original release, does Banjo-Kazooie still hold up?

For me, absolutely.

That doesn’t mean everything has aged perfectly.

The camera can occasionally decide that cooperation is optional.

Some of the platforming shows its age.

Searching an entire world because five musical notes remain unaccounted for isn’t an experience I’m desperate to repeat regularly.

But none of those things came close to taking away from what Rare created.

Every world still has its own personality.

Grant Kirkhope’s music gives those worlds even more character.

Banjo and Kazooie remain a brilliant pairing.

The humour still works.

The transformations are still memorable.

And the constant little details make Gruntilda’s Lair feel like a place somebody actually enjoyed creating.

Super Mario 64 helped establish what the 3D platformer could become.

Banjo-Kazooie took that foundation and did something unmistakably Rare with it.

By the time I entered Winter in Click Clock Wood, I knew the journey was coming to an end.

Then the final Jiggy was collected.

The final musical note was found.

The last Jinjo was rescued.

The final Honeycomb Piece was mine.

Grunty’s Furnace Fun was completed.

Gruntilda was defeated.

The expedition was over.

It didn’t hit me in quite the same way as finally defeating Wizpig during my Diddy Kong Racing journey.

But the tears were still there.

Maybe that says more than anything else could.

Nearly thirty years after Banjo and Kazooie first left Spiral Mountain, Rare’s strange little bear and bird adventure can still make me feel something.

That magic hasn’t disappeared.

It was waiting in Gruntilda’s Lair the entire time.

Retro Reflections: Diddy Kong Racing Randomizer

When a Childhood Favourite Became Unpredictable

Revisiting the Games That Shaped a Lifetime of Gaming

Wizpig had been defeated.

Not once, but twice.

The first time by a Kremling driving a car. The second by that same Kremling piloting a plane.

It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that, but then this was never an ordinary playthrough of Diddy Kong Racing.

To understand why this challenge meant so much, it’s probably best to start back in 1997.

A Childhood Favourite

Diddy Kong Racing was one of the first games I owned for the Nintendo 64, and from the moment I first played it, I was hooked.

Contrary to what many people might expect, my character of choice wasn’t Krunch. It was Tiptup.

That little turtle carried me through everything the game had to offer. Adventure 1, Adventure 2, unlocking Drumstick, unlocking T.T., and eventually reaching 100% completion.

Looking back, I think Rare captured something special with Diddy Kong Racing. Timber’s Island wasn’t just a menu. It was a world to explore. New doors opened, bridges appeared, balloons unlocked fresh routes, and every boss victory felt like genuine progress.

The world felt enormous, every new area felt like an adventure, and simply exploring the island was almost as enjoyable as the races themselves.

It had a magic about it that only Rare seemed capable of creating.

Rediscovering the Adventure

Years later, I discovered that fans had created a randomizer for the game.

Instead of following the familiar progression, races, bosses, Silver Coin Challenges, keys, and other objectives could appear in completely unexpected places. Every seed offered a different journey.

The idea immediately interested me, but not enough to actually start playing.

Around the same time, I also discovered something else.

Krunch was widely considered the worst character in the game.

That surprised me.

I remembered using him occasionally as a child, but I’d never really thought much about how much more difficult he could make the game. T.T. being regarded as the best character made perfect sense considering what it took to unlock him, but Krunch being at the opposite end of the scale wasn’t something I had ever considered.

Krunch’s handling was always his biggest weakness. He had speed, but turning him could feel like steering a shopping trolley with one stubborn wheel. On tighter tracks, that could make the difference between winning and watching the rest of the field disappear into the distance.

Why Krunch?

Everything changed in 2026.

I came across someone attempting to complete both Adventure 1 and Adventure 2 as Krunch. Watching them struggle against Wizpig 1, a race responsible for frustrating countless players over the years, planted an idea in my mind.

Why not combine the two?

Rather than simply replaying Diddy Kong Racing, why not tackle a randomizer seed using the character many people considered the game’s weakest?

Most randomizer videos I had seen were completed by players using T.T. and speedrunning through carefully planned routes.

That wasn’t what I wanted.

I wanted to experience Diddy Kong Racing all over again.

Playing the challenge on Steam Deck also made it feel strangely fitting. Decades after first exploring Timber’s Island on the Nintendo 64, I was now revisiting one of my favourite childhood games on a handheld PC, chasing the same sense of adventure I remembered from years ago.

After experimenting with several seeds, I finally found one that felt right.

Almost immediately, something unexpected happened.

The sense of wonder I remembered from childhood returned.

The island no longer felt physically huge like it once had, but thanks to the randomizer, it became unpredictable again.

For the first time in decades, I didn’t know what was waiting behind the next door.

A Childhood Nightmare Returns

The first major obstacle came sooner than expected.

The randomizer had placed Wizpig 1 behind a door, allowing me to challenge him far earlier than normal.

For many players, Wizpig 1 was one of the defining challenges of childhood.

Speedrunners make the race look straightforward, but without extensive practice, Wizpig has a habit of reminding you exactly who’s in charge.

This time I wasn’t racing as Tiptup.

I was racing as Krunch.

My first victory took well over an hour of repeated attempts.

When I finally crossed the finish line ahead of Wizpig, something unexpected happened.

I started crying.

It genuinely felt as though I had healed a small piece of my childhood.

Oddly enough, once that race was over, it almost felt like the seed itself had reached its natural conclusion.

I had completed an unspoken challenge I hadn’t even realised I had set for myself.

When the Randomizer Fought Back

That wasn’t enough.

I wanted to complete an entire randomizer.

I generated another seed, this time making sure Wizpig 1 appeared at the end of a more traditional progression.

Every victory had to be earned.

Some of the biggest roadblocks weren’t where I expected them to be.

Tricky 2 became one of the toughest challenges in the entire run.

Despite already defeating him once in a previous seed, he repeatedly humbled me. I learned A-Tapping, watched experienced players, studied alternative strategies, and even experimented with climbing the mountain differently as Krunch.

This wasn’t just a case of throwing attempts at the same problem until the game gave in. I had to learn. I had to improve. I had to understand why I was failing instead of simply hoping the next attempt would work.

Eventually, something clicked.

I still don’t know exactly what changed, but I reached the summit and finally defeated him.

Then came Greenwood Village’s Silver Coin Challenge.

Five laps sounded generous.

The relocated coins told a very different story.

One awkwardly placed coin repeatedly ruined otherwise perfect attempts until, once again, persistence eventually won.

The randomizer also seemed determined to prove that planes solved almost everything. At times it felt as though every major objective involved taking to the skies. It became a running joke throughout the challenge that the randomizer may have forgotten cars existed.

By the time I reached Wizpig 1 for the second time, I genuinely felt I had earned another chance.

This victory took around half the time of the first.

The tears returned.

But there was still one final challenge waiting.

One Last Race

Wizpig 2.

The randomizer wasn’t finished making life difficult either.

Instead of the normal three laps, the final race became four.

Attempt after attempt ended with mistakes, restarts, or Wizpig reminding me that the finish line was still a long way away.

Then one run felt different.

Throughout the challenge I’d developed a strange habit of trusting my instincts. Sometimes I knew within moments that an attempt wasn’t going to be the one.

This time, that feeling never arrived.

Everything flowed.

Every corner connected.

Every boost landed.

Krunch, supposedly the worst racer in the game, felt unstoppable.

When I crossed the finish line, I simply stared at my Steam Deck.

The challenge was over.

I had completed a randomizer of one of my favourite childhood games using the character many people consider the weakest.

The emotion didn’t arrive immediately.

It wasn’t until the following morning that it finally sank in.

Only then did the tears come.

The Journey

This journey through Diddy Kong Racing Randomizer was recorded as a complete no-commentary playthrough using Krunch. If you’d like to experience the challenge from beginning to end, you can watch the full playlist on YouTube.

New adventures begin on the Survivor Incognito Facebook page, where videos are released first before joining the weekly YouTube archive.


â–¶ Watch the complete KRUNCH% – DKR Randomizer 2.0 playthrough on YouTube


📘 Follow Survivor Incognito on Facebook

Still Magical After All These Years

Unfortunately, Diddy Kong Racing never truly received the sequel it deserved.

The Nintendo DS version introduced new features, but for me it never quite captured the same feeling as the original Nintendo 64 release.

Maybe one day I’ll return once again and complete the original game as Krunch without a randomizer.

For now though, I’m happy knowing this challenge accomplished something I hadn’t expected.

It didn’t just prove that Krunch could beat a randomizer.

It proved that, nearly thirty years after first playing Diddy Kong Racing, the game could still surprise me.

The older I get, the rarer it becomes to experience a game with that same sense of wonder I had as a child.

Somehow, a randomizer and one stubborn Kremling gave me that feeling one more time.

Retro Reflections: Donkey Kong ’94

When Four Levels Became a Ninety-Seven Level Adventure

Revisiting the Games That Shaped a Lifetime of Gaming

When people think about Donkey Kong, they no doubt picture the arcade classic released back in 1981. It introduced both Donkey Kong and Mario to the world, laying the foundations for two of Nintendo’s most recognisable characters.

Since then, both have gone on to star in countless adventures, but one game often gets overlooked: Donkey Kong for the Game Boy, better known today as Donkey Kong ’94.

At first glance, it looks like a faithful handheld version of the arcade original.

That’s exactly what Nintendo wanted you to think.

More Than Just an Arcade Port

The game begins with the original four arcade stages. If you’ve played the arcade game before, you’ll probably expect the credits to roll once they’re complete.

Instead, Donkey Kong gets back up, grabs Pauline, and runs away.

Only then does the real adventure begin.

What follows is another ninety-seven stages spread across a variety of worlds, turning what looked like a simple arcade conversion into one of the Game Boy’s biggest and most inventive adventures.

Even today, I still think it’s one of Nintendo’s cleverest surprises.

A Puzzle Platformer in Disguise

I remember sinking countless hours into Donkey Kong ’94 when I first owned it on the Game Boy.

Most stages shared a simple objective: collect the key and unlock the exit.

On paper, it couldn’t sound simpler.

In reality, every level introduced a different puzzle.

Switches, moving platforms, enemies, springs, ropes, and Mario’s ever-growing collection of acrobatic moves constantly changed how each stage played.

As the adventure progressed, Mario learned techniques that felt far beyond what the original arcade game offered. Handstands, backflips, high jumps, rope swings, and other athletic moves gave him a surprising amount of mobility, allowing Nintendo to create increasingly inventive puzzles.

Looking back, it’s easy to see how many of these ideas would later influence the Mario vs. Donkey Kong series. Mario wasn’t just running and jumping anymore; he was becoming a much more agile and versatile character.

If you wanted every present hidden throughout the game, you had another layer of challenge waiting for you.

For a Game Boy title released in 1994, it felt enormous.

Thirty Years Later

Returning to the game over thirty years later reminded me why it has remained one of my favourite Game Boy games.

Yes, it shows its age in places, but great game design rarely becomes outdated.

The puzzles remain satisfying, Mario controls beautifully, and the constant introduction of new mechanics keeps the adventure feeling fresh from beginning to end.

It deserves to be remembered as far more than simply “the Game Boy version of Donkey Kong.”

One Puzzle Left Unfinished

I’m going to be completely honest.

When I first owned the game as a child, I never truly completed it on my own.

There was one puzzle late in the game that completely defeated me. I eventually needed help to solve it, and although I finished every other stage myself, that one level always stayed with me.

Returning all these years later gave me the opportunity to put that right.

When that puzzle finally fell under my own determination, it felt like I had closed a chapter that had remained unfinished since childhood.

The Final Climb

Reaching the final battle felt surprisingly emotional.

Even though I had faced the final boss many times over the years, it usually took several attempts before everything came together.

This time, it happened on the very first attempt.

When the final hit landed and the credits began to roll, another familiar feeling returned.

Tears of joy.

This wasn’t simply about beating a Game Boy game.

It was about finally completing one of the games that helped shape the gamer I would become.

The Journey

This return to Donkey Kong ’94 was recorded as a complete no-commentary playthrough. If you’d like to experience the adventure from beginning to end, you can watch the full playlist on YouTube.

New adventures begin on the Survivor Incognito Facebook page, where videos are released first before joining the weekly YouTube archive.


â–¶ Watch the complete Donkey Kong ’94 playthrough on YouTube


📘 Follow Survivor Incognito on Facebook

Still Worth Playing Today?

Absolutely.

Although I didn’t set out to collect every present hidden throughout every stage, I achieved exactly what I wanted from this journey.

I finally completed Donkey Kong ’94 entirely on my own, something I had never managed as a child.

Looking back, I think Donkey Kong ’94 remains one of Nintendo’s most overlooked classics.

People often remember it for the first four arcade stages.

What they sometimes forget is that those four levels are simply the beginning of one of the finest puzzle platformers ever released on the Game Boy.

It may not receive the same recognition as the original arcade game or the Donkey Kong Country series, but it deserves to be remembered in its own right.

Three decades later, it still surprised me, still challenged me, and still reminded me why I fell in love with gaming in the first place.

Retro Reflections: Sonic the Hedgehog (Master System 2)

One of My Earliest Gaming Memories: Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System 2

Surviving, Not Suffering.

Most people who grew up during the NES, Mega Drive/Genesis, and SNES era probably have a story about the game that introduced them to gaming.

For some it was Mario. For others it was Zelda, Donkey Kong, or one of the countless arcade games that seemed larger than life when viewed through the eyes of a child.

For me, one of my earliest gaming memories, other than playing Super Mario Bros. on an arcade machine, was Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System 2.

The game came preloaded on the console, meaning there was no cartridge to insert and no collection to build. You simply switched the console on and Sonic was there waiting for you.

Looking back now, it was probably my first real experience of home console gaming.

A Much Bigger Adventure Than I Remembered

Like many childhood memories, the game felt enormous at the time.

Every zone seemed huge. Every level felt like an expedition. Progress felt hard-earned.

When I recently returned to the game after all these years, I completed it in around an hour. Adult me knows the levels, understands platformers better, and generally has far more gaming experience than the child who first picked up that controller.

Yet despite the shorter playtime, the game still felt like an adventure.

Many childhood games lose some of their magic when revisited years later. Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System never really did.

Searching For Chaos Emeralds

One thing that always stood out to me was how different the Master System version felt from its Mega Drive counterpart.

Most people are familiar with the special stages from the Mega Drive version, where collecting enough rings would give you a chance to earn a Chaos Emerald.

The Master System version took a different approach.

Instead of entering special stages, the Chaos Emeralds were hidden within the levels themselves. You had to explore. You had to search. Sometimes you had to take routes that didn’t look important at first glance.

For younger me, that made the world feel bigger and more mysterious.

Finding a Chaos Emerald wasn’t just about completing a challenge. It felt like uncovering a secret.

Even today, I think it remains one of my favourite approaches to collecting the Emeralds in any Sonic game.

A Journey Across South Island

The zones themselves have stayed with me for decades.

Green Hill Zone remains an iconic starting point. Bridge Zone introduced long stretches over water and collapsing obstacles. Jungle Zone challenged my patience more than once. Labyrinth Zone felt dangerous and intimidating. Scrap Brain Zone signalled that the adventure was nearing its conclusion.

Then came Sky Base Zone.

I always liked how the game made it clear that you were getting closer to Robotnik with every stage you completed. The journey felt like it was building towards something.

Each zone pushed you further forward until eventually there was nowhere left to go except the final confrontation.

For a younger player, that sense of progression was powerful.

Still Worth Playing Today?

Absolutely.

Now, I should probably admit that I am not entirely unbiased here.

This is one of the earliest gaming memories I have.

Nostalgia is undoubtedly part of the experience.

Even so, I genuinely believe the game still holds up. The controls remain responsive, the level design remains enjoyable, and the adventure still feels rewarding from beginning to end.

It may not be as famous as the Mega Drive version, but it deserves to be remembered in its own right.

The Journey

This return to Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System was recorded as a complete no-commentary playthrough. If you’d like to experience the adventure from beginning to end, you can watch the full playlist on YouTube.

New adventures begin on the Survivor Incognito Facebook page, where videos are released first before joining the weekly YouTube archive.


â–¶ Watch the complete Sonic the Hedgehog playthrough on YouTube


📘 Follow Survivor Incognito on Facebook

The Blue Hedgehog That Started It All

It’s impossible for me to separate Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System from my own gaming history.

When I think about where this hobby began, my mind often comes back to that console and that game.

Back then, I had no idea that decades later I would be running a gaming blog, documenting challenge runs, writing survival diaries, and spending far too much time discussing virtual disasters on the internet.

I was simply playing a game about a blue hedgehog trying to stop a mad scientist.

But without that blue hedgehog, I might never have become a gamer at all.

And for that reason alone, Sonic the Hedgehog on the Master System 2 will always hold a special place in my gaming history.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑