Due to unforeseen circumstances, this piece was due to appear in last week’s Arcade Special, but didn’t. So here it is. Happy, now?

Rule 1. We do not ‘continue’.

The most sacrilegious thing any arcade patron could ever do was to put an extra credit into a game after dying. You could see all the local kids tut-tutting every time some Johnny-cum-lately flash boy entered an arcade and started pummelling money into a new game, thinking that by ‘finishing’ it, they’d gain some kind of respect. This is nonsense.

Any coin-op junkie worth his salt would know that the one true way to impress was to spend one credit and stay on the machine for as long as humanly possible. The ultimate in showboating would be to ‘clock’ a game on one credit. I could do it on a few games – Robocop being my most impressive feat – but the best example of the one-go-or-nothing technique I saw was in one of the seafront arcades in Bangor, Northern Ireland.

Stop it. This is appalling. Quick! Get some more money in.

I’d just missed getting on the Shinobi machine by a few seconds and had to go through the usually boring activity of watching someone else play. Expecting the guy to die on the boat level, like most players, I estimated I’d get on the machine in ten minutes max. Imagine my horror when the guy just kept on going and going, showboating his mad skillz.

After the initial shock of having to wait longer than expected subsided, I began to really get behind the guy (although not saying anything out loud, that would most likely result in a kicking). I watched him get to levels I had never seen before without losing a life. He then got on to this level, which I would later find out was the final level, which pitted our faithful ninja against some badass elemental Ninja Boss. Despite trying his best, the guy got bitch-slapped all over the shop and soon lost all his lives, at which point the dreaded continue screen popped up.

The temptation to just put in another coin and whip the boss’s ass must have been huge. I stood there, sweating through the tension, watching every second tick downwards, secretly hoping that he would put some more money in and break the unwritten code. But he didn’t; further elevating his god-like stature to me. A true hero.

There are certain circumstances which are allowable in which a player can break the no-continue rule. If a machine has been left on free-play or some idiot has left numerous credits on a machine, you should continue to your heart’s content – particularly if it’s a game you would never voluntarily plonk money in. Just make sure no one you knows sees you, they might get the wrong impression.

Rule 2: Never join in someone else’s game if it has already started.

Imagine the scene. You’re stood there, watching someone hammer a beat-‘em-up, and he’s getting quite far. He gets up to a boss on one of the later levels, pumping cash in the machine along the way. The boss whips his ass and the bloke doesn’t have a clue what to do. In a bid of desperation, the player turns around and says:

“Fancy joining in, mate?”

What should you do? If you join in, you’ll be able to play the later levels that you usually never reach. Tempting? Of course not. You’ll get far more time on the game if you patiently wait for the bloke to die and you start from the beginning. You’ll probably get up to the same boss with one credit but with the added bonuses of having picked up extra lives along the way.

“C’mon, love. Let’s DO IT TOGETHER. Eh? Eh?”… “Can’t we just go and have a fuck?” And yes, we are going to
keep using this picture.

If you join in, you’re just going to spend a minute getting used to the game, resulting in dying very quickly and wasting your cash. Besides, the guy is usually so crap, he just irritates you by getting in the way all the time, nicking much needed health and wasting items which should be spared.

Politely decline the request and continue to marvel at his cack-handedness until he finally pisses off and gives you a go.

Rule 3: Never play the novelty game (unless it’s on free).

You walk into an arcade and spy a new game. It’s a pretty big machine and has a really clever gimmick. Maybe you should have a go? It’s only three times the price of all the normal games you play. Surely worth a squizz? I mean, it looks like a revolutionary experience!

You feed the machine, which equates to half your weekly pocket money. Within 3 minutes you leave, saddened by your own stupidity and cack skills.

“Don’t call me a paedo. I’ll have you killed!”

The above situation should only happen to a kid once, at which point they should realise what a scam any ‘quirky’ machine usually is. By all means, watch others humiliate themselves, but it’s like watching a monkey spaffing off in a zoo, its amusing for a couple of seconds but you wouldn’t want to go into the cage and lick the spunk-flecked glass (You could fill up your moped, though. – Ed).

Rule 4: Never ever talk to other people, unless you know them from outside the arcade.

This is a rule I don’t strictly adhere to. It’s always good when playing Virtua Fighter to put off the other player by simply chatting to them, watching their usually retarded skills of social interaction try to cope with the art of conversation whilst concentrating on the game. But, arcades aren’t generally a place where you make friends.

I suppose being mainly the abode of angsty teenage boys, it’s not surprising no-one speaks to each other in an arcade, preferring instead to submerge themselves in the electronic cacophony coming from the machines. Some people I saw every weekend for years, yet I never once heard them speak.

General trends.

Crossing your arms to play a game.

Part of a showboater’s arsenal, most likely gained by watching lefties trying to cope with a right-handed machine. What’s better than completing a game with one credit? Completing a game with one credit using your hands crossed, of course. Haven’t seen this one done in years.

“Show us the arms-cross thing, Fat Boy”.
“Blow it out your ass, Skeletor”.

Holding the joystick/pressing buttons in an odd fashion.

Before the advent of Street Fighter 2, the most abundant case of funny joystick grips was by placing the stick between your thumb and index finger, in a pincer style movement. Another dodgy grip was the simple holding of the stick inside your fist, usually reserved for mongoloid mashers, who seemed out to destroy as many cabinets as possible.

I don’t know what Street Fighter 2 did but it got the loonies into the arcade. A lot of oriental players played by controlling the joystick without gripping it, placing their palm on the top of the stick and applying pressure to move it. Whilst controlling the joystick in this way they would spread their hand over all six buttons, using different knuckles of their fingers to press the buttons, rather than the tried and tested finger tips. This technique looked pretty scary when someone comes to challenge you – surely only an expert would hold the stick in such an awkward manner? Which was the case most of the time, but after a while kids started to emulated the grip in an attempt to gain a psychological advantage. Which didn’t work.

Keeping your change in your sock.

I think this was only ever adopted between me and my friends when we were about 10. Someone came up with the idea of placing your change in your socks, rather than the more usual Parka pockets. Why? So, if someone tried to bully you for your money you could say you haven’t got any, and you could empty your pockets to prove it. The one flaw in this was that a pound’s worth of old ten pence pieces weighed a ton, especially when rammed down your sock, so if you did get mugged you wouldn’t be the most mobile of kids. The other problem was that the money made so much noise when you walked that only a deaf bully would be unable to hear the jingle emanating from your shoes.

Scabbing.

The art of wandering around and checking the coin slots of machines for money (see Aeroflott’s ‘Arcade Heroes Part 2 last ish’ – Ed again). It was a tiresome task and yielded very little gains, but if you did find some cash you’d be able to play again – which beats watching other people play or going home to watch crappy Sunday television.

A world of potential free-credit wonders. Er, in America at least.

Scabbing seems to have died out now, probably because of the changing nature of the arcades. In a dingy arcade in the 1980’s, walking around, fumbling in coin rejection slots seemed fitting for the surroundings. In one of today’s bright, non-smoking, squeaky-clean arcades, you’ll most likely be chucked out.

THRONGOR, August 2004.

Something to say? - Click to comment!

Hello. Yet again, it’s the Ed here. Please, please, please send us YOUR examples of arcade etiquette. Can’t believe the mighty Throngor didn’t mention the ‘Slyly slipping a 10p piece onto the control panel’ in an ‘I’m next…’ gesture. Anything will do, though. Squeaking out a sneaky fart just before vacating the sit-down Star Wars? Wiping your knob on the Robotron knobs? Keep ‘em coming. But don’t repeat any we’ve already mentioned, though. Obviously. For fuck’s sake.