yours truly. But as soon as I set eyes on this package, I was filled with woe. “Good

Luck?” The hell’s that supposed to mean? When I opened the box, I knew my fate had

been sealed: within moments, my studio was infested with ROBs.

Look, I understand these guys have an attitude. You would too, if you were basically used

to shoehorn NES consoles into Toys R Us locations (and other businesses wary of dealing in video

games in 1985), given 2 games, and then all but ignored save for bit parts in WarioWare

and Smash Bros. ROB got a raw deal. Sure, a separate accessory just to control video

games as inefficiently as possible seems kinda ridiculous... especially when it requires

a number of small fiddly bits likely to be lost by children thinking it’s a toy in

1985. So I tried to be a good host. I let them have their day in the sun, and I just

happened to have copies of Gyromite and Stack-Up on hand. (And Bryan S. saw fit to send these

little maniacs complete with all the accessories one needs. I presume he obtained them via

legal means.)

The anatomy of a ROB is fairly simple: It’s got a hexagonal base capable of rotating the

arm assembly 240 degrees to one of 5 positions, a pair of shoulders that can assume one of

six heights along its spine, two hands that can open and close to manipulate objects in

its range, and an optical sensor in the eyes that responds to certain flashes on the screen,

much like a light gun. Unfortunately, they also have a penchant for destruction, or at

least mischief. I caught these two planting explosives about the place. This one began

subjugating the other residents of the studio. I tried to appease them with material offerings,

but their metabolisms seemed incompatible with my tributes. I think they run on a steady

diet of hate and obsolescence.

TJ’s log, Stardate 3.14159265... I fear for my life. The invaders have taken over

and begun a series of strange rituals. Fortunately, it doesn’t look like they’re able to reproduce,

as parts are terribly rare and horribly expensive. Just one unit can run between 60 and 200 dollars,

and that’s without any of the strange add-ons to actually let you play games with it. Not

only that, they seem to respond only to old cathode-ray-tube TVs, as they have no interest

in our current flatscreen LED displays. Not only are they ill-tempered relics, they’re

also hipsters. Maybe I should’ve bought them cheap beer and clove cigarettes. I mean,

how the heck would one of those things ride a bike?