However, unlike certain failed systems of the 1990s - I'm looking at you, Atari Jaguar - the 3DO was unique in having an identity all of its own. In fact, I'd argue that there has never been a machine with such a variety of bizarro games, all of which seemed like they were part of the same catalogue.
It felt as if the 3DO's games were exploring the boundaries of what CD-ROM could offer, and though these experiments were only successful sporadically, they did result in some of the most uniquely weird-ass games of all time.
And now? Why... now here be ten of them.
Additionally, the player begun the game - in the role of a cook aboard a huge, derelict, spaceship - armed only with a frying pan and an infinite supply of throwable meat cleavers. Later on, he comes into possession of a hand drill. You know: to drill the flesh-eating arses to death. How's that for some questionable symbolism?
Oddly, the player was also capable of performing a wholly unnecessary backflip, a move which contributed precisely nothing to your effectiveness in combat, and was a first - and last - for first-person shooters.
It was a terrible game, of course, but did feature some intricate level designs - partially explored via jetpack - and pioneered the use of a 3D in-game map. Also, of course, the title was short for "Pissed Off".
Edgy enough for you, lads?
If you could overlook the obvious American propaganda, it had a nice, found footage-y, Cold War feel, with clips of news broadcasts and other shows from the fictional dystopian country.
It wasn't great, but it did demonstrate the slightly wacky, try-hard, sense of humour which seemed to be a feature of most 3DO games. Plus, it certainly made they system stand out next to the PlayStation, N64, Saturn et al.
You know: like an expensive plopsie at a seafood buffet.
Certainly it showed off the machine's FMV capabilities, but was also the first demonstration of that peculiar sense of humour which became a hallmark of so many 3DO games; hosted by one Twink Fizzdale, the contestants included Wormington, Humble Howard and Uncle Fez - the latter differing from the other, human, characters in that he was an animated Pez dispenser.
Who wore a fez.
Its truly bizarre structure was second only to its assortment of odd characters - depicted either in early CGI form, or played in a variety of masks and costumes by members of the development team. The ultimate aim was to take down the evil program Perfect1 - who occasionally appeared to the player as a CGI woman with enormous bare breasts.
For some reason...
Though scarcely more lewd than the average Carry On movie, it nonetheless took some tonal shifts which were dubious even for the time - including an attempted sexual assault on the main female character, and an ending in which she becomes a prostitute.
One of the game's other failed conclusions saw two male characters become a couple, at which point the player was penalised because the characters "cannot be gay".
Also, despite the title, there was virtually no plumbing involved. Of any sort. Sorry, Mario fans.
For reasons that are never really explored, the game also required the player to solve crossword puzzles... Ssssssssexxxxxxus!
Yes: that was his name. "Our Hero".
In possibly the most hopeless motivation for a game character ever, "Our Hero" chose to avoid the responsibilities of the rock star life by entering a virtual reality world, where he got to shoot at virtual aliens and ghosts. So, basically... you played someone who's playing a game because he's sick of his job.
Inexplicably, this terrible game was developed by the team responsible for the groundbreaking Prince of Persia. Perhaps they felt the digitised character was a step-up from PoP's sublime rotoscoping.
Well... they were wrong about that.
Y'know... which might've been fine if it hadn't played like there was a dog wrapped around its wheel axle.
Here's the intro video, which gives a good sense of the game's tone (which, again, seemed entirely in keeping with almost the entire 3DO catalogue).
The production values were risible, and the editing truly awful. Lasting barely ten minutes from bewildering start to limp conclusion, that might've been all you needed... if it hadn't favoured green screen shots of the witches flying through space over anything more "sensual".
Clearly influenced by Mortal Kombat, complete with myriad gory fatalities, Way of the Warrior sought to distinguish itself with lurid colours and desperately quirky characters.
For example, there was a Crocodile Dundee wannabe called Shaky Jake, whose in-game catchphrase was "Now that's a knife", and who was able to take a swig of whisky and immolate his opponents. There were also two ninja characters... one of whom was called, confusingly, "Ninja". Which, I suppose, makes more sense than calling him, I dunno... "Optician".
What makes all this even more peculiar is that it was developed by Naughty Dog, now better known for the peerless Uncharted series. The game almost bankrupted the company; when the money ran out members of the development were forced to step in to be filmed as characters in the director's apartment. Apparently, neighbours complained, as they believed he was shooting a pornograhic movie.
"Now that's a knife!"