I’ve always felt that Spelunky (which some of you should remember as Derek Yu’s magnum opus of randomly-generated runny, jumpy, treasure-grabby death) never did get the recognition it deserved. Despite the fact that Quinton Smith (late of Rock Paper Shotgun) took the time to write a dead-on summary on just why Spelunky is so fantastic, I've never seen true reflection of the game's greatness in the form of a diarised account of Spelunky's true majesty: the countless never-repeated obstacles, heart-seizing discoveries, precious victories and crushing failures that every (probably) doomed venture into Spelunky’s depths entails. Of course, we can probably forgive Quinns his shocking negligence in light of certain other distractions.
In an attempt to bring balance to the universe , I’ve made a diary of a few of my own ill-fated ‘Splunks’ (as I really shouldn’t call them, but do), in which I perform my usual insane practice of roleplaying the kind of ‘Splunker’ (oh god someone please stop me) that the randomly generated blurb on every startup of the game suggests I am.
I have a feeling this will end badly, and since Spelunky’s score screen suggests a 4:273 ratio of things not ending badly, I’m pretty confident I should trust my gut on this one. This never stopped me before though (excepting, of course, the 269 times that it did. Badly)
Life 1: Shot through the Heart, and I'm to blame.
Putting the folded photo in my pocket
I furrowed my brow
And thought of her one last time
A strange breeze swirls around me as I approach the entrance to the place in which I’ll earn her back: cool as the night, but tinged with the faint wisps of desert heat still smoldering in the sand below me. The moon is full tonight, blazing in its own quiet way. It gets me thinking again: Thinking of her and the way she-GAHFUCK! GIANT BATS!
THEY’RE AS BIG AS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!Everything blurs together as I force myself forward towards the cave (though it’s hard to tell what’s forward anymore. Maybe it’s her, maybe it’s the Great Dimensional Leak of ’87, I don’t know. Let’s just say that when I say this crazy direction I’m going in is forward, it feels right). Piercing chiptune screeches fill the air as I run to the cave entrance. Frantically lighting a torch, I search for the secret entrance she told me would be here. The screeches grow louder by the moment but...Found it! I throw down a rope and begin my descent. At least I’ll be safe in the cave, I’m sure of it.
My fears that this would be another profitless bone-hunt are eased instantly as I drop into the first chamber. Already I see a brilliant golden Idol gleaming in the gloom, well within my reach: its only defense a silent stone guardian carved into the cavern wall: probably some kind’ve piggy diety worshiped by the ancient natives. *snort* I’m sure whatever Godless savages arranged this believed the threat of divine retribution alone would ward off superstitious looters. Ha I say! Their puny beliefs will have no effect on my looty lust because I’m a rational, thinking-type genius. I'm a goddamned junior scientist! Bill Nye sent me a certificate and everything!As I stride valiantly towards my prize, I furrow my brow even harder to more effectively think about how awesome at thinking I am. I think of her. My brow hurts. Hastily picking up my prize and dismissing the ominous click of what I can only assume to be an unrelated geological phenomenon, I rush even valient-lier back to the entrance which is...closed. Completely. And something’s rumbling. Oh shi-*CRUNCH*
AAAAAAAIIIIIIII BELIEVE I BELIEVE I BELIEVE I BELIEVE I...
Woo-Hah! Did you see that? Did you fuckin’ see that? I am the freakin’ God-King of badassery over here. Did Indiana Jones ever escape a boulder by jumping over it? No. No he didn’t because he’d have never thought of it because he isn’t me and I am a genius. Who’s the creepy wannabe now, Ford? Ho-yeah! Not this guy!
Err, I mean uh (angst, angst, angst, okay)...Uh, the cold stone rolled beneath me like, uh, like I was one of those circus bears who stand on those big rubber balls and...roll...them...but the ball isn’t rubber, it’s a SKULL and the bear is like, bald, or something because that makes it sad.
Whew, saved it.
I have my prize, but the victory seems bittersweet as I my gaze flits between my Idol and the firmly sealed entryway. As I look around me, desperately searching for a way out, I feel strangely comforted. I hold the idol and I feel the warmth of something familiar, something I thought I’d lost long ago.
It has her smile...
Heartened, I push forward into the unknown. The cave is riddled with equal parts danger and vindication: I find gaping holes to leap over and (adorably) deadly snakes to fight off either with my obligatory whip or with the shrewd combination of gravity and a solid-gold idol. These hazards only serve amplify the rush I get as I scoop up the priceless gold coins and assorted gems littered around every deadly nook and cranny. Actually "priceless" isn't quite accurate. My inexplicably precise sense of appraisal puts my net profits at exactly $2300, not including my Idol which I believe selling would be a bad idea for any number of reasons.
I don’t like the look of that carving. A minute or so back I noticed the bloody giblets of a bat flying at me from the general direction of one of these. Plus, I’ve seen bloody arrows of questionable origin littering the floors of the cavern. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce that death and that statue have a few things in common, but I am and it helps. Knowing might be half the battle, but it doesn’t help the fact that the only way onto that ledge is the ladder leading directly into that carving’s line of fire. I’ll need a cunning plan if I’m going to-ahhh yes that’s it. Genius. Seeing as those flying bats got gibbed by these things and no one with any sense of symbolism would carve giant googly eyes onto their death trap if it wasn’t meant to see stuff, I’m guessing the mechanism is triggered by things moving in front of it. I’ll just climb up that ladder, wave my precious but crucially not-me Idol at the trap’s face until it’s spent, then climb up in safety. The plan’s infallible. It’s genius.
Yes Genius, which is why it totally worked and I escaped heroically and the loss of half my health points is completely unrelated and probably due to snakes or type-2 diabetes or something. I am a genius. You know this. Shut up I still have my Idol.
I continue my descent, braving falls and foes too numerous to mention before I hit what seems to be the cavern’s ground floor. My unshakable belief in a fair and just universe tells me that there must be a way out of here somewhere on this floor. Too excited for caution, I blaze forward, sneering at the lesser beasts lurking in the alcove below me as I pass harmlessly over them. It’s about at this point that I notice I’ve run under the hairy horror lurking above.
The man-sized arachnid plunges down towards me like an eight-legged guillotine, its crimson eyes creating a frighteningly effective contrast with its glistening white fangs that I can’t help but admire as I run away screaming. Actually wait, I don’t do that. Well okay I do do that a little but then I stop. I’ve beaten man-sized snakes and bats and giant boulders and that jet-bike level on Battle-Toads. I can beat this.
“Listen here, Bub”, I shout in my flawless Australo-Canadian accent at the surprisingly non-conversational fanged monstrosity bounding towards me, “It’s clobberin’ time!”
All across the world a million nerds are screaming at their monitors in fury. Their hate feeds me. “Suck my Face”, I scream eloquently as I chuck the golden head into the airspace I deduced to soon contain spidery death. However, my perfectly understandable miscalculation of freak-wind conditions in ancient caves leaves my precious careening into the aforementioned alcove of insignificance whilst Arachno the Fangular (as I somehow find time to name him) flies unhindered into my actual face as invited. The pain is indescribable so I won’t describe it, I’ve no time for brutal similes as I dash in what a spike filled dead-end seems to indicate is the wrong direction despite it seeming so right at the time.
Arachno continues his pursuit, his speed quickening greatly as his frenzied leaping sends him ricocheting down the low tunnel after me. In a brilliant manoeuvre, I duck on a ledge as he leaps over me. For a single precious instant I dare hope he’ll impale himself on the deadly spikes in his path, but he lands within a hair’s breadth of safety. I might have the time to flee but no time to get My Idol, this has to end now. Clamouring up into tunnel, I ready my whip-he follows-I strike-he leaps-a shock up my arm and a shower of blood: too much, not all his. He’s done, but the clenching throb of my last heartbeat and the abrupt end to the funky retro soundtrack that has played in my head all my life tells me I am too.
As I lie here in this cave of insurmountable peril, my life’s achievements seeming to flash above me for the world to see, I think of her again. I remember our last conversation where I’m standing over her smashed laptop and asking how I can make her love me again. As it plays out with perfect clarity I remember for the first time how a small pang of guilt crosses her features before she tells me just where to go.
What a bitch.