Review: Duck Tales

“The natives in the Amazon still have a few gems clutched in their fists, boys! Let’s go pogo stick them in the fucking brain pans and relieve them of those riches!”

During these, the end times of the United States of America, let’s celebrate the ruling class’ victory over the American Dream by taking a look back at the most lovable oligarch Duckberg ever produced. Well, “lovable” in that while he is a seething and enthusiastic wealth accumulator and virulent racist he’s also a pretty cute little duck guy. His nemesis, Glomgold, can be described exactly the same way.

Invading other countries to commit mass genocide in order to satiate bottomless and malignant avarice is a time honored tradition here in the Empire, so it stands to reason that the mirror Duckburg holds up to our “society” would feature an oligarch as the main protagonist.(and antagonist. this game is about two rich guys who wanna increase their wealth. that’s the story, that’s all there is)

You can also hop around on Scrooge’s cane like a pogo stick, which is very cool. And the moon music makes you feel like a bad ass rockstar like Grim Reaper or even Mr. Big as you jam out in your bedroom long after you were supposed to be asleep.

I first played the Ducktales game in 1990 at my buddy Aaron’s house. It was a sleepover at his house and a few of our buddies got to stay the night. It was a night of many important firsts for me. First time I saw Robocop, Indiana Jones, and the Last Crusade, the first time I played Duck Tales, and the first time I ever faked a heart condition to be excluded from rough housing with other boys.

It’s not that I was a weakling, it’s just that I got winded easily and didn’t like to get hurt because pain was and is a major drag.

Although as an old man I am now inconstant pain and I would give anything to be able to have a good natured living room floor Boy’s Tumble, those days are past and all I can do is look back at them with a sort of melancholy nostalgia. I really miss the late 80s and early 90s although I was being served up ass kickings pretty regularly. I mean, I was getting into all kinds of fights. No Big Deal to a kid like me who hadn’t figured out yet that a fake heart condition could save you from a pounding about 40% of the time, depending on the level of psychotic malice of the day’s bully. I was a real fighter in those days if getting punched a lot while pleading to stop being punched counts as fighting.

So anyway that night after Aaron’s parents went to bed it was time to activate our secret sect, known as Bat Club.
Bat Club was the club we had created and I had initiated into by leaping from the top floor of Aaron’s garage down onto the main floor. It hurt like a mother and my shins were sore for days but after that I proved my worth to the Bat Club just like Indy proved his worth in the leap from the Lion’s Head.

So that night, Bat Club swung into action and we snuck out of the house and walked to the nearby park. It was pretty late, around 11, and the only people there were a few teens making out on one of the benches under the shelter. It wasn’t a big deal, I knew what making out was already having seen it in my favorite movie Untamed Heart starring Marissa Tomei and Christian Slater. I even think Rosie Perez got the “and” credit on that one. Check it out.

So yeah, I was NO stranger to the way of making out with a lover. I even hoped to try it one day myself back then.

But it wasn’t long until the night took a turn for the worse. We eventually noticed a third party at the park, an older guy who was standing off by himself. We didn’t realize what he was doing at first but it became clear pretty quick that he was “bopping the one mouthed salami eel with the five fingered discounter” while watching the teens rub their tongues and teeth against each other. It was dark but that was my understanding of what making out was at the time.

My buddy Eric who was staying the night with us started dying laughing and before anyone could say anything he shrieked “HEY THAT GUY IS JACKING OFF AT YOU” to the teens.

The teens and the masturbatesman both turned to look at us across the park and I’ll admit, the scrutiny in this situation was more than I could bear and I bolted like a middle aged man who just got busted milking his pink mushroom at a couple of teens. I was OUT. I ran so fast I forgot that we had hopped a low hanging chain that signaled the park was technically closed and ran straight into it, tripping and sending myself sailing into the gravel on the other side of the chain.

I was certain the masturbator was right behind us, I didn’t look back as my friends laughter echoed behind me.

The good news of this review is that by the time they came home and told me about how the teens had already seen the jack offer and didn’t care I was already Transylvania deep into duck tales about to fight the sultry Majicka Despell, a Duck lady who turned into a flying bird but weirdly not just a duck but like a crow or something.
It was definitely weird but I did develop a bit of a crush on her at the time. I did get better from that condition eventually, but I am not afraid to admit that I have had that illness.

That is why I give Duck Tales a 9 out of 10.