However, whereas first-person shooters can come in all shapes and sizes - a seemingly infinitely flexible format - it seems that the traditional side-scrolling fighting game must adhere to a number of weird rules in order to be accepted into the club. It doesn't matter whether the games are set on the mean streets of a neon-lit city, Ancient Egypt, or some fantasy realm... it's probably the least diverse "genus" in gaming history.
And here? Here are those boxes which must be ticked.
GO!!!!!
No. Just a young drunk man.
The entire thing fell apart, but I promptly gathered up the constituent parts, put them back together, and carried on eating. If there is one thing scrolling beat 'em ups have told me it's that there is nothing wrong with this. There is no way that a filthy bus stop pavement could've given me any sort of awful illness. If anything, I became stronger after eating my floorburger.
Furthermore, if you destroy street furniture - benches, telephone booths, a charity box in the shape of a blind boy - you might find all manner of edible, health-restoring treats within... anything from a juicy red apple on a plate, to a still-warm roast chicken, to a half-eaten bar of chocolate.
Why else do you think tramps are the most powerful guys on the streets?
And while we're at it, why do so many enemy gang members wear matching outfits? In Double Dragon, you're assault repeatedly by a number of identically-dressed men called Williams.
Not in the scrolling beat 'em up book of combat. Every single one of these games features a little hunched-over guy who will rush at you with his arm hooked into his body at 45-degrees, knife held out in front of him. He will then attempt to run the blade into you quickly, before rushing off-screen.
If you manage to get a punch in, he might drop the knife, at which point you can jab it at your enemies until - four or five jabs later - it starts to break. Only then can you fling it at their waist, in a perfectly horizontal trajectory.
Maybe their strategy is to distract their opponents. Certainly, if some fellow approached me topless save for a network of leather straps across his torso, his fists clenched, I might indeed be more inclined to flee rather than fight.
Get this: I've been to G.A.Y. a couple of times. What did I wear?
A smile...
This is a skill which all overweight people possess, so think about that next time you call me a fat George Michael.
I don't want to judge anybody for their proclivities, but... well... if your thing is being suffocated inside a tight rubber suit with an inflatable hood, while somebody dressed as a sort of latex elephant beats your buttocks with a cattleprod, then surely something's gone a bit wrong there hasn't it?
More to the point, why would you employ any of these women to be part of your gang? What if your opponent starts to enjoy it?