Space Case

What happens when you're getting a late start on the next game and there's a three-way tie in the polls for what that game even is? Well, you wind up playing the shortest game. I used to be a lot more worried about if I could find anything to talk about with these games that take less than half an hour to beat. There's always some new story to tell. No two ZZT games are identical. Plus sometimes you get the benefit of a name attached that rings a bell. In this case, we're looking at Jason Parker's Space Case, the lone release of SkeptiSoft.

SkeptiSoft is a name that may activate some neurons for those involved with the ZZT community at the time. I believe Parker posted on the forums of the day using the company name for his account name. Skepti became iconic for being vocal about the ZZT Archive needing to ban Draco's Teen Priest 2 from the site due to its explicit content, excessive swearing, gratuitous violence... all that good stuff. These posts are long gone now, so while I want to say SkeptiSoft was the one who first demanded the game's removal, I cannot confirm this. Whether he was first or simply loudest, the name SkeptiSoft quickly became a joke to the vast majority of ZZTers who held Teen Priest 2 in high regard.

That kind of discussion is not one you would trust a community of high school students to handle well, and so it was mostly people yelling at SkeptiSoft, mocking the idea of a ratings system, and the usual "if you're offended don't download it!". Nothing productive came of it, and its legacy is a few references in other games of the era parodying it with overreactions to red fakes as blood and such with a small number of games around that era throwing in a rating in a text file somewhere.

I replayed the first Teen Priest back in 2018 for a now ancient Closer Look and it was a bit much. Its sequel famously went even further, with even ZZTers in the mid-2000s noting that the game was so focused on being offensive that it didn't have much substance. SkeptiSoft's complaints weren't entirely without merit, but his scorched earth vision on how to deal with them didn't find him any support then nor would it now.

It's a good thing to mark games old and new as explicit. Authors today voluntary mark them as such. There are games with content warnings listed in menus and games where some content can be removed for those who would rather not see it. It's an issue that extends far beyond the ZZT community, and doesn't have an airtight answer.

With this idea of who Parker was at the time, I wondered if any of this would show up in Space Case. While the game predates Teen Priest 2, it could still very much have a G-rated style fit for the Flanders family. There was also the potential for some real hypocrisy, but I'm sure if that had been the case, everyone who was around for the great TP2 debate would have discovered it and made it known right away.

As it turns out, the game doesn't touch on anything along these lines. It's no more violent of a game than any other ZZT game with a laser pistol as your starting weapon. Don't expect any horrific deaths, just ruffians and tigers, and maybe a boss turning into a red fake.

The title screen make a good case for Space Case. It evokes the free spirit of ZZT's earliest games, making even the blackness of outer space appear colorful. The classic starry night sky is peppered with objects to make some more elaborate stars, and Parker has fun creating a ringed planet and coming up with a fun setup of blink walls, transforming them into a long-range laser beam coming from a space ship in orbit.

By the standards of 1999, folks would be dismissive of this, noting the lack of any extended STK colors. For those looking for an angle to tear down Parker and ensure his content-moderating demands were not taken credibly, the visuals are one of many things they could use as ammunition. In a community where a major source of your reputation stems from the games you make, you better make good ones. Space Case wouldn't pass any community-imposed tests on its validity at the time, especially when so many would have wanted to see the game fail. Playing it now though, it's really no worse than any other first time author's games. Space Case, like so many before can't really pull off the few more novel ideas it has leaving you with a very "been there done that" action game.

The storyline is very spontaneous. Parker has no reservations with typing until he's had his fill of text, throwing all sorts of exaggerated names and places at players with little interest in making any of it stick. It almost comes off as parody. A low effort one. This is a game where our hero is named "Go N. Spaesse". His craft is the "SPAX X-252-bj445+5/5 SPACE CONTROL STARSHIP". You can feel the keyboard keys being mashed, as if the keys were a prophecy, guiding Parker in the direction he needs to go.

Parker seems to distance himself from authenticity, falling into the trap of many aspiring artists where if it's purposely bad, it can't be criticized. If it's a shitpost, then it's not supposed to feel well constructed, and that in turn means it succeeds at being what it's supposed to be, therefore, it must be good. That's a clever trick when it gets you to create something, but there's a heavy price paid as players can tell when an author isn't taking their work seriously and will see no reason they should be the first to do so.

The same text at the start establishes a bizarre scene to start things off. Go observes an alien fleet showing up in the night sky, preparing to invade. That could be a cool way to start a pulpy space adventure.

The scene isn't the most well-depicted, but it's still easy to comprehend what you're looking at, especially after being told. Though there is one key detail that isn't well-represented. Apparently this mountain is Mount Everest. I hope you bundled up Go.

There's an explosion in the sky and the invaders' ship plucks a gem from the remains. Players watch as some blobs of invisibles flicker in the sky, relying entirely on narration to understand what they're seeing. This is Parker's first release and he can't convey through graphics and animation what he's trying to explain through text.

The player not know what they just witnessed, but Go understands exactly what he saw. Aliens from planet TWEAK have stolen the gem, and he's going to have to be the one to get it back. The game doesn't tell us what will happen if the ...aliens ("Tweakers" is a bit loaded of a phrase) have control of the gem, but I'm sure it's bad. It's enough to get him to summon his ship and take off after the culprits at least...

A bit of a shame that the story is so scatter-shot. Stargazing from high atop a mountain only to witness a fleet of alien invaders blow up a friendly vessel and snag the magic macguffin gemstone would make for a strong start to any sci-fi adventure. Parker's struggles to use ZZT to convey the events in an eye-catching manner can easily be forgiven, but his reluctance to present it as something serious does a disservice to Space Case's opening scene.

Just a little more care would go such a long way to upping this game's appeal. A three frame invis-powered animation showing the ship zooming off into outer space would be pretty memorable were things not so scribbly. Operation: OBRIAN offers a direct comparison, with its own scene of a small ship flying towards a larger one. Both have three frames (well, a 4th in OBRIAN has a little appear as well). OBRIAN has an incredibly well executed animation, hiding the void of unrevealed invisibles by a lavish amount of stars. Space Case looks like its a proof of concept, with some hastily drawn in ships to make sure it will all fit. Only no additional work was done so players get to look at a flat textured ship with noodly, almost-vestigial, wings duct-taped its sides.

The intro has solid ideas on how to get things started. It successfully introduces our character, and wants to deliver a fancy battle sequence to kick things off. Parker is alas not yet able to do his ideas justice. With some more experience, this could be the start of something great. Here it's an introduction that leaves players confused more than anything else.

Space Case has its share of experiments by the author which are done just to see how they'll play out rather than for any gameplay purpose. When the introduction was over and I was taken to this first board where the player had some actual input, I immediately thought there was a passage error causing the player to spawn on a matching passage locked away behind a full set of doors which were intended to be opened from the other side.

The sidebar reveals all though. Parker starts players off with a full set of keys, extra health, and some ammo. This can be easily done in any modern editor's world menu. In 1999 there's a real chance that Parker played around with cheats in the editor either intentionally or not, and gave the player all this stuff. That your set of keys is immediately consumed makes me suspect that he didn't actually want to give them to the player, and did so on accident necessitating this as the only way to get rid of them thanks to ZZT-OOP not allowing giving/taking of keys.

The other supplies are kept rather than have an object reset them, though with how much ammo in particular the game provides, it's no surprise that you get to keep what you start with.

After that diversion, you can begin to appreciate Parker's presentation a little bit. The board mixes art and gameplay, taking advantage of a viewscreen to place the player in while depicting the ship's interior in the remaining space. I love when ZZT games do this and wish it wasn't such a rarity. Parker even has a bit of an edge here over the more illustrious Buck Russel, the game where I first encountered the technique, in that his division between where players can move and where players can only observe is seamless, naturally slotting into the scene thanks to the viewscreen rather than needing to carve out space for it. The art is seen in all its glory without having to reserve room for the player to move around.

The streams are even crossed at one point! A scroll warns you not to touch Becker's gun (we are never told who this is) which pokes over the viewscreen edge and into the play area. Not heeding the advice will cause Becker to begin firing into the viewfinder, bringing the artwork into the game space proper.

Now, I guess I should confess that no, I can't tell what I'm looking at in the room either. I thought maybe it was Go seated in a chair or something? Again, Parker's visuals hinder the game, but his ideas on how to creatively present them are on point.

Alas, the hybrid-structure doesn't last, and won't make a return. It's replaced by something with some similarity, looking like a less detailed art board that uses mostly fakes so players can wander around it as needed.

A warning is given that you need to choose wisely what items to take, as they cost different amounts of gems. Don't fret. The message is lying to you. Neither ammo, nor health, nor window, nor... Swanky Kong? will take any of your gems.

The twenty starting ammo is just 0.1% of what you're given here. While too little ammo can make a game frustrating, too much can make action sequences boring. You can't have a good fight with this many bullets available. This kind of pickup doesn't bode well for when it starts being used.

An NPC tells you to shut up. That's their gimmick.

Nya?

Swanky offers the change to play a bonus game, just as if this were a Donkey Kong Country title. The price is a tad high though, so don't be afraid to negotiate.

If you do, you'll get more of Parker's funny made up words for alien currencies. This exchange converts your own alien currency to US dollars, or as we know them, gems.

Alternatively, Go can accept the five billion dollar price and get into some wordplay that finds a way to make cash and credit card fit within the game's space theme.

Regardless of which options are selected, there is no bonus game. The cadet card resets the conversation, and negotiating a cheaper price amounts to Swanky giving Go five thousand (not hundred) gems/dollars and then goes home, disappearing.

The health is a less notable "Super Heart" that provides 1,000 health, putting players in a very solid position without outright eliminating the possibility of danger. It's a lot, but not excessive.

With that, Go is ready to board the Tweak ship and start the game's first level. After a lot of prep work, it's time for Space Case to show players what they're in for.

You could do worse of a start than this. You've got a number of paths to follow, an initial skirmish with some alien ruffians, some sort of decorative laser-looking device, and a blocked off area to make you want to learn what awaits down that particular hallway.

Parker also likes adding in small gags like this, where Lookas do nothing but look at the fight. The comedic aspects of the game fall pretty flat now and I doubt younger players at the time would be all that amused either. The attempted humor helps build a light-hearted tone for the game whose strange story could have gone in a more serious direction had it been desired. It's clear that Parker's first priority is to just have fun making his game.

The laser gun comes with a tempting button to push alongside a disclaimer to dissuade you. The bit being set up here is obvious: push button, get zapped, but not all is at is seems.

It does the usual "are you sure?" "are you really sure?" routine, forcing players to really confirm they want to make an obvious mistake.

The penalty is luckily more fun than an instant game over. The button and device are merely an alarm that instead makes all the Lookas go wild, throwing stars and shooting everywhere. It's still going to get players to reload, just not for the reason you might have predicted.

The lower exit brings Go to a much less interesting board. Mind the squiggly walls and collect a few keys. There are no surprises in store here. It's a miss.

I won't pretend Space Case is a particularly good game. It's got plenty of first-timer flaws like easily being able to walk from the key room to outside the Tweek ship!

Heading north instead, the game continues to be a little more reasonable. Parker introduces what becomes a mainstay of the game, in the form of oversized enemies like these.

Plenty of games have worked massive foes like this into their games despite their Achilles heel of being unable to move. Worlds like Llama Masters revolve almost entirely around them, working them into the plot and giving them personalities as large as they are to make them welcome despite the limited options for their attacks and how players fight them. Others like Kingdom of Zandia just look too dang pretty for players to complain that large swaths of the board are completely safe.

Parker has neither trick up his sleeve, sometimes there's just a big guy like here. Though that's not to say they're used carelessly either. What most of them are, are just more elaborate versions of stationary turrets, hardly a threat, but also unkillable themselves. Players get something novel to look at, and Parker gets to try his hand at designing aliens with guns.

Since these guys aren't being used instead of more typical run-and-gun boss battles, their limitations are easier to cope with. They become a welcome little addition to the game, giving Space Case something to remember it by.

It's either that or the comical amount of ammo.

Continuing north, is another guard with bizarre proportions. The gun means dodging bullets in a tighter window thanks to the shorter distance between the barrel and the wall, although I'm now noticing nothing would stop Go from going the long way around.

The objective here is to grab the red key which is protected only by the big guard. The other person up top yells at you to get out of this room, which I'm unable to tell if that's intended as a threat or a warning of danger thanks to the last object Go can interact with.

The little red box suggests some kind of treasure for the player, be it a box full of ammo (please no), a red keycard, or some other container with who knows what inside.

Oh! It's actually a trapped item that triggers a little ambush! Turns out all those discolored spots on the floor weren't editor errors. They were more Lookas ready to jump on Go the moment he approached the mystery box!

Were this a way to catch unexpectant players off guard and throw them into a dangerous close-range fight, it would be pretty cool. Alas, it's just another excuse for unkillable enemies to spam infinite stars and bullets. And putting up with this gets you nothing! In fact, the box joins in on throwing stars!

Even in this textbook example of a ZZT Syndrome Parker demonstrates some ingenuity. While the giant guard may be unable to move, they are able to adjust their aim to join in on the ambush, erasing the gun as first seen, and revealing some of the floor to be normal walls which are then changed to move the gun to its new position. There's some definite potential here, just squandered by the ambush being easily skipped and so overwhelming that players will want to restart to avoid it.