It's incredible how simple circumstance can lead you down the darkest of paths.
I've mentioned in at least one review by now that my family was never the most well-to-do. Not to say that my brother and I ever wanted for much of anything; we were well taken care of and we did enjoy the rare treat from time to time. However, we weren't the kind of family that had a ton of disposable income to toss at every shiny new release. When I finally got my first Nintendo DS in 2005, there wasn't much money left for games. My choices were either to save up and get something top-shelf or take a chance on something from the clearance bin.
When you're young and desperate and a game offers itself to you for ten bucks, you don't second-guess yourself. You take the plunge.
Came home from the flea market with this in tow and slapped it in within minutes of climbing into bed. I spent a little time playing dress-up with the meagre default options before initiating my first dialogue with one of the myriad conversational partners on offer. The words have since left me, but if you've ever sat down to a meal with that relative you see once a year and only ever asks you about how work is going and if you're still dating that girl, you know exactly what they're like. All of them.
I don't know how to justify the existence of Ping Pals. I've heard that Wayforward pretty much just developed it as a means of securing a Nintendo DS devkit. I've also heard they came up with the concept before Nintendo first introduced Pictochat as a built-in feature of said handheld. Since playing Ping Pals, I've heard voices in my walls. I'm not really sure anything else I hear will make me feel better about it.
The thing about a game like Ping Pals is that you really need to know other people who own it for it to make any sense. Otherwise, all you're left with is tinned interactions with the previously mentioned NPCs who prompt you for simple yes/no answers on such thrilling topics as the weather and the kinds of pants you like to wear. Thus, assuming you already tick off the first two boxes (having friends in the first place and having friends who own a Nintendo DS), you are now confronted with the unenviable task of convincing others to purchase it.
"Hey, I've been playing this game called Ping Pals. You should get it so we can play it together!"
"Well, what's it about?"
"You join a chatroom and you can talk to your friends!"
"... Doesn't the DS already have a chatroom built in?"
"I mean yeah, but this one lets you have an avatar you can dress up... And you can play minigames, and talk to NPCs and stuff!"
"I dunno. How much does it cost?"
"$30!"
I would wager a door-to-door dryer sheet salesman would have more luck.
But I can entertain hypotheticals all day long - it doesn't do anything to change the fact that the only other person I knew who owned a DS was my brother, and we were very much in the same boat. Two copies of Ping Pals was out of the question. I played it alone. I got to know the cast pretty intimately. Grandma hates answering machines. Biff is a big fan of muscle cars. Never figured out why Snakey sparkles like that, though. When you got tired of playing High-Low or discount Family Feud, you could spend your hard-earned credits on cosmetics. There were a lot of them! Hundreds, even! I was the only person who ever saw them. I was the only person who ever would. I was trapped in my own personal hell, endlessly refreshing the store for new baubles with which to decorate my electronic puppet's stony countenance, whispering in binary to fictitious figments I wouldn't even want to befriend in real life. But they were all I had. For every ping, there must be a pal.
Eventually, Warioware Touched! would free me from my prison. Even though I willingly invited the demon into my home, it was Wayforward who loosed it into the streets. No number of scantily-clad genies or policewomen will ever make up for the pain I endured in my youth. Only by the grace of Virt do their offices yet stand. Maybe that Clock Tower remaster will be okay. We'll see. Honestly, I'm probably too lazy to make good on any threats.
At least the music was kind of catchy.
I've mentioned in at least one review by now that my family was never the most well-to-do. Not to say that my brother and I ever wanted for much of anything; we were well taken care of and we did enjoy the rare treat from time to time. However, we weren't the kind of family that had a ton of disposable income to toss at every shiny new release. When I finally got my first Nintendo DS in 2005, there wasn't much money left for games. My choices were either to save up and get something top-shelf or take a chance on something from the clearance bin.
When you're young and desperate and a game offers itself to you for ten bucks, you don't second-guess yourself. You take the plunge.
Came home from the flea market with this in tow and slapped it in within minutes of climbing into bed. I spent a little time playing dress-up with the meagre default options before initiating my first dialogue with one of the myriad conversational partners on offer. The words have since left me, but if you've ever sat down to a meal with that relative you see once a year and only ever asks you about how work is going and if you're still dating that girl, you know exactly what they're like. All of them.
I don't know how to justify the existence of Ping Pals. I've heard that Wayforward pretty much just developed it as a means of securing a Nintendo DS devkit. I've also heard they came up with the concept before Nintendo first introduced Pictochat as a built-in feature of said handheld. Since playing Ping Pals, I've heard voices in my walls. I'm not really sure anything else I hear will make me feel better about it.
The thing about a game like Ping Pals is that you really need to know other people who own it for it to make any sense. Otherwise, all you're left with is tinned interactions with the previously mentioned NPCs who prompt you for simple yes/no answers on such thrilling topics as the weather and the kinds of pants you like to wear. Thus, assuming you already tick off the first two boxes (having friends in the first place and having friends who own a Nintendo DS), you are now confronted with the unenviable task of convincing others to purchase it.
"Hey, I've been playing this game called Ping Pals. You should get it so we can play it together!"
"Well, what's it about?"
"You join a chatroom and you can talk to your friends!"
"... Doesn't the DS already have a chatroom built in?"
"I mean yeah, but this one lets you have an avatar you can dress up... And you can play minigames, and talk to NPCs and stuff!"
"I dunno. How much does it cost?"
"$30!"
I would wager a door-to-door dryer sheet salesman would have more luck.
But I can entertain hypotheticals all day long - it doesn't do anything to change the fact that the only other person I knew who owned a DS was my brother, and we were very much in the same boat. Two copies of Ping Pals was out of the question. I played it alone. I got to know the cast pretty intimately. Grandma hates answering machines. Biff is a big fan of muscle cars. Never figured out why Snakey sparkles like that, though. When you got tired of playing High-Low or discount Family Feud, you could spend your hard-earned credits on cosmetics. There were a lot of them! Hundreds, even! I was the only person who ever saw them. I was the only person who ever would. I was trapped in my own personal hell, endlessly refreshing the store for new baubles with which to decorate my electronic puppet's stony countenance, whispering in binary to fictitious figments I wouldn't even want to befriend in real life. But they were all I had. For every ping, there must be a pal.
Eventually, Warioware Touched! would free me from my prison. Even though I willingly invited the demon into my home, it was Wayforward who loosed it into the streets. No number of scantily-clad genies or policewomen will ever make up for the pain I endured in my youth. Only by the grace of Virt do their offices yet stand. Maybe that Clock Tower remaster will be okay. We'll see. Honestly, I'm probably too lazy to make good on any threats.
At least the music was kind of catchy.