1. They Manufacture The Exact Right Amount of Hardware
I walk into Best Buy. Sharp breath in, slow breath out. The lights and air conditioning so sterile, so soothing. A man in blue with a smiling face greets me. I laugh the laugh of a child, full of vigor and living, and we kiss. I glide across waxed tiling like an angel, moving towards the gaming aisle.
And there it is.
A gorgeous shelf, near-overstuffed with SNES Classics. I fall to my knees and weep; my ecstasy overwhelms. Another bountiful harvest from the fertile manufacturers that are Nintendo. I pluck as many as my arms can carry, so that I may give them to strangers on buses.
2. They Continue A Beloved Series Fans Clamor For
Samus Aran is so tired. I have seen her run across miles and miles of 2D space. She has run for years now. I beg for her release, but Nintendo refuses. I am the only one who asks – the only one who sees. Everyone else is so loud in their cries for more Metroid, and Nintendo is so good at using their ears to listen. The sound gives them energy, and makes them younger. Tatsumi Kimishima is just a boy now. He plays with guns and knives in his office, and wins at locker boxing with his sound-stolen youth. Will no one listen? Does no one care? Samus continues to run, her masters slowly turning into babies.
3. They Let Fan-Made Projects Flourish
Every day, when I get home from prison, I play a new fan-made Nintendo game. My jail friends agree – this is truly the height of luxury. To play a fan game is to become like light itself, shining and radiant. They are so good and so powerful that I scream for the duration of play.
Each game is better than the last, and they all remain extremely unmolested by Nintendo. Fan creators live in an enclosure with Shigeru Miyamoto, and together they eat perfect beans and play Bakugan. Once a month, Reggie Fils-Amie visits The Game Dome to deliver gifts, like a tall and handsome Santa.
4. Their Stellar Track Record of Avoiding Gimmick Hardware
I hold the controller for my Nintendo console; it is shapely, alluring, baroque. It contours to the big size of my meaty palms. I shout, alone in my apartment, “I love this controller shape! It is very good!” I rub every button, and the smooth, black, screen-less void in between “start” and “select.” It is like being held by a lover.
I shake the controller, and my avatar does nothing. I keep shaking the controller. “This is good exercise!” I shout. My character remains motionless on the screen. I love shaking my Nintendo controller.
5. Their Plethora of Third Party Titles
Help me. I cannot escape third party titles on Nintendo consoles. There are just too many. I sleep on a bed constructed from their empty cases. I use them to chop open my boiled eggs. They are my clothes, my cleaning utensils, my furniture. I am suffocated by their totality. Sometimes I hear them sing songs of inhuman truths in the midday. Mirror’s Edge knows when I will die, and Prince of Persia told me how. I try to run, but they are everywhere I turn. I have seen them on the roof of the library, and in the walls of my local Sears Roebuck’s. They are the hounds to my rabbit. I am afraid.
6. Their Extremely Clear and Direct Marketing
We all remember the day Nintendo announced “Wii 2: The Sqwiiquel.” For 8 hours they stood on that E3 stage and explained each and every detail of the successor to the Wii. They touched each screw and said “look at this, this is a screw,” and “do not eat this screw.” They held the controller up high, and told us “this is not the console, this is what that makes you move.” I tried to sleep through their speech and could not. I sat and shook through each hour, their words waking my very bones. As they finished, my hands began to emit a low hum, and became hot. The wet sweaty men walked off the stage, and I shouted, “I understand! Glory day! I know what this is!” And I did.