When I was a kid, I ate crayons while I was supposed to be tested for giftedness, I lost interest in achieving the honour roll when I found out it wasn't covered with sticky frosting, and I could never understand why grown-ups got so uppity if I was wearing my shirt backwards (still can't). But I finished Castlevania III all by myself, without cheating, and I'm still damn proud of that. It remains one of about two games both my husband and I played as kids, but only I've completed.
I've only finished the game with Grant as my aide, mind you. Even my childlike stupidity and gullibility had its limits. “Ha ha,” I said as I watched the credits scroll, “I am never doing this again!”
Ah, but it looks like I will with the help of the Virtual Console. Once I get my platforming legs back, I'd like to try and finish the game with Sypha. I've seen her ending already thanks to the modern magic of YouTube, but it still fascinates me. The second Dracula dies, the schmatte covering Sypha's head falls off on cue and Trevor's like, “Holy shit, Imma touch this bitch.” And he does.
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