AWKWARD ZOMBIE

There are many old, classic games that we have loved for years, but what are they really about? Many of those classics have no real point to them. We dont know anything about why we are doing what we do. So in this thread, you can modernize games and give them stories, as if someone were to make a remake of the game today.

My example:

PACMAN:

Something has gone wrong. All of the sudden, for reason currently unknown, major cities all over the world have become slaughterhouses at nighttime. Ghosts are stalking and killing innocent civilians by the hundreds. The U.S. government recently passed legislation that will hopefully be able to resolve the situation within its borders. This piece of legislation created PACMAN.

PACMAN

P. olice
A. nd
C. ivilian
M. onster
A. nnihilators
N. ational

PACMAN is made up of law officials as well as volunteers. They patrol city streets at night and try to exterminate whatever ghosts they may come by. They can also act as escorts for civilians needing to travel late at night. These PACMANs (yes, PACMANs, not PACMEN) can be identified by their bright yellow hoodies, which are easy to spot at night, when the city streets become a hunting ground.

They have been supplied with the equipment necessary for exterminating ghosts. Unfortunately, for every one killed, more take its place in our realm of the living.

So thats it. What I havent figured out how the different foods and white dots come into play yet though.

So now, make your own!

Sonic the hedgehog has to save the world with the help of his numerous friends and acquaintances

Some kid in a green tunic hits things and saves a princess.

The end of the earth is near. All around us, everything gets destroyed and everything that's left is black void. The richest of the rich, corrupted by their power, created a sick sport to decide who is allowed on their spaceships. A one on one energy tennis match. The PONG.

Hell is full, and sinful man has no place in heaven.

Souls are left behind by rotting bodies. The wandering spirits conglomerate, and come together, seeking solace in company. A wandering priest, the last one Earth, seeks to bring peace to these tortured souls by giving them purpose. He goes amongst the aimless dead and brings them into line.

He is justice.

He is salvation.

HE

IS

TETRIS

Maverick has graduated Top Gun and begun his service as a flight instructor, but still feels guilt over Goose's death. After years of seeing young trainees make the same mistakes that he did, he resigns and falls into depression.

After six months of living in a bottle, Maverick picks himself up and realizes that he needs to continue teaching. He founds the PILOTWINGS academy to teach the basics of prop plane flight and skydiving, soon recruiting instructors who are experts in the fields of hang gliding and the new rocketbelt.

The Princess is in another castle.

That fiendish beast. It will rue the day it stepped into your life and fucked up your day. Mindless, like a little kid that is attracted to shiny things, it took your girlfriend and now holds her hostage on this building site.
But you will get her back.
Ever so slowly you climb up, evading whatever it throws in your way.
You will beat the living shit out of that laughing piece of shit monkey/ape whatever it is.

"I will get you. I will get you, Donkey Kong! You hear me?"

Recently a breakthrough in medical technology has produced a harmful mutagenic waste that has the power to reanimate the dead.
The outbreak has gotten bad and is slowly creeping farther and farther into urban areas. The police have all but stayed in this hellhole, someone needs to stop it, I guess it has be my sister and I to do it. Getting our last provisions together we heard a scream for help, our cue that there wasn't much time left, we opened our front door only to see that the zombies ate our neighbors.

At first I was wondering where it was going to deviate from Resident Evil. Then I remembered this game.

A man lives in the wilderness. Except for his faithful dog, he is utterly alone. As time drags on, he begins to long for human company. Desperate to hear the sound of another voice, even his own, he begins talking to himself, often holding long discussions and arguments to pass the time. During one of these arguments, he storms out, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder and grumbling "Bob says we need meat. C'mon, boy."

Pricking up its ears, his dog bounds along behind him, dashing off every now and then to pursue a particularly interesting scent. However, he always comes back, his tail held high and his tongue hanging out. The man pays him no mind, grimly crossing the border between his land and the local waterfowl preserve. Stomping through the marshlands, he stirs up a flock of ducks. Resting the shotgun butt against his shoulder, the man aims carefully and fires. He misses. Swearing, he takes aim again and pulls the trigger. Another miss. By this time the flock is long gone, quacking up a storm.

Furious, the man stomps off, sliding more shells into his shotgun and calling for his dog. At the sound of his voice, he hears wings beating the air. Whirling around, he fires at the noise, hoping to at get at least one bird. But his aim is off. Instead of hitting the bird, his bullet struck the dog that had stirred the waterfowl from its nest. The dog that had come at his call. Dropping his gun, he rushes to his loyal friend's side, cradling its bloodstained bdy in his arms. Whimpering, the dog nuzzles against him. Tears stain his weathered face as he whispers "I'm sorry, boy. I didn't mean - you're gonna be ok, you hear?"

As he whispers aplogies and reassurances, the dog's breathing slows, and eventually, stops.

"No, no, please don't die, you're all I got-"

A single, mocking voice interrupts him. Wheeling around in the sky, the duck quacks again and again, its voice sounding almost like laughter. The man's eyes narrow, and a flame of hatred creeps into his heart.

"You laugh while you can, you hear? Because I'll find you. I don't care if I have to kill every duck in this country, I'll find you. And when I do, you'll pay for this, you hear me? You will pay."

A horrible, horrible virus has broke out, turning everyone into evil mutant cats. Everyone and everything except mice. To fight these evil cats, the mice formed a police force. The mice fought valiantly, but they all were sacrificed for the greater good.

All but one. His name is......

MAPPY!

Once upon a time, a village was crafted on top of a mountain. The other villages all got overrun by swarms of yeti monsters. They attacked quick and mercilessly. Now they are surrounding the village on the mountain, and time is running out. They need to escape. But if they set one foot out of the village, they would be mercilessly slaughtered.

So they gave you a mission. You are a diversion. You are to ski down a mountain, distract the yeti monsters long enough for your people to get away. It is a suicide mission, you can only hope you can give them enough time to run.

Ski free, hero.

In an underground world, there were a people who lived peaceful lives, just digging to dig. Then one day, short, fat dragon creatures attacked.

The only way to free the world was by inflating the dragons until they blew up. You must dig to save your life and countless others! DIG, DUG! JUST DIG, DAMMIT

The foul stench of sulfur filled the air as Lorenzo looked up at the night sky. Were it not for, more or less, absolutely everything, it would have been a rather fine evening. The eldritch glow spewing forth from the depths of the volcano dominated the sky above, blotting out the surrounding stars, but the moon still shone down clearly, calming his nerves a little.

That malodour, that fiery, smoky fog belching out around him was slowly filling his lungs with its taint, not to mention filling his heart with hate. It was the same smell that had been in the air all those nights ago, and every other night since. They had swooped into the village. Men - no, not men, demons - demons descended on the people, riding horrible, wretched vultures. They came in droves. Nobody had seen them coming. They couldn't possibly have defended themselves. They spewed out across the town like a plague. Nobody stood up against them. Burning buildings lined the streets. Corpses littered the roads. Screams of rape and murder echoed all around. Lorenzo saw his house, on fire. An empty bed. A bloody cot. Then he saw his friends, his townsfolk. All of them either dying, or on their knees begging.

Not anymore. Lorenzo put that scene out of his mind. Tonight, the tables were turned. Tonight, it was him swooping down on them. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and a voice behind him, breaking his thoughts. "Are you alright, brother?" Miguel said, with sincere concern in his voice. He'd met Miguel many, many moons ago, back in their knighting days. They had both been squires together, and they had ridden together in every battle. Their thirst for battle and glory had waned along with their youth, and despite their skill, they had decided to both retreat to a smaller village, and try their hands at a simpler life. The vultures, apparently, had thought otherwise.

Blinking a few times, Lorenzo met his gaze. "Nowhere near alright, my friend," he replied with a mirthless grimace, the picture of that bloody cot stuck in his head like an arrow, "but I am ready to ride." He choked on his next words, and teared up a little at the corner of his eyes. "I need this," he managed to squeeze out, "we both need this. Those monsters are a hellspawn, a menace to every person in the land, and everybody's just getting on their knees and letting them have their way. It ain't right. We need this." Miguel nodded, and patted him on the back a few times. "Very well," he said, furrowing his brow, "then the die is cast. Mount your bird, friend, and take wing. We ride."

Lorenzo turned to face Avashar, his trusty Ostrich. She'd been by his side for as long as Lorenzo had, and she was as close to him as he was. He gently stroked her neck."You've been the best bird a knight could ever hope for, Ava. We've had a lot of good years." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I just need one last ride, girl. Just one more. I know you've still got it in you." She clicked her tongue confidently, happiness in her eyes. Lorenzo smiled sincerely, for the first time since he'd first seen those deathly vultures.

Hopping on her back, Lorenzo steadied his lance, and called out to Miguel. "I lead." Miguel nodded back to him. They both roared up into the night sky, then plummeted straight down the center of that horrible volcanic lair. They probably weren't going to make it back again, they both knew that, but it didn't matter. They had to try.