If you were a kid in the early 1990s, you might have been a little too preoccupied determining which one is the best Ninja Turtle or marveling at the universal fact that Michael Jackson can do no wrong to even notice that there was a little war going on in Iraq. Unless, that is, you happened to own Operation Secret Storm -- an action game designed to fill you in on all the relevant details of the Gulf War conflict through your Nintendo. The game stars a brave American operative identified only as "George B.," although I think we can all guess who that's supposed to be.
Looking good for 95, Mr. Burns.
George is sent to Iraq as a one-man invasion force to "save oil refineries in the Gulf," which you accomplish primarily by beating the crap out of every vaguely Arab-looking person that comes into your path. Your enemies range from dudes with Freddie Mercury mustaches to straight-up 1,001 Nights stereotypes -- as in, you'll literally bump into people with turbans flying on magic carpets in this game.
Aka the main reason the U.S. had to bring surface-to-air missiles to the Gulf.
As he makes his way across the country, George will visit many exotic locales, from oil refineries to Iraq's famous pyramids. He'll even locate those elusive chemical WMDs and kick them in the face. Because they have faces, because they are fire demons.
"I'm just shy, is all."
Eventually George reaches the final boss, "Saddam Insane," and learns his terrible secret -- Iraq's president is actually a helicopter disguised in the shape of a man. Or vice versa.
How did this GIF from Hot Shots! Part Deux get here?
After defeating Saddam (both of them), your only reward is an unceremonious "Game Over" -- that shows you how much America cares for its heroes. By the way, 12 years later, Iraq retaliated with a bootleg war game of their own: Iraq War 2003 for Sega's Mega Drive, where you control a static tank shooting down the U.S. Army's "cosmically air attack," because "Guard the Iraq is your holy duty!"
"Let's give Bush a mustache to make him look sinister."
"No! You overdid it! Now he's a manly warrior!"
For a video-game-playing kid, Wally Bear and the NO! Gang is the worst kind of deception. On the surface, this looks like a regular game about a cool, shades-wearing, skateboard-riding bear. He's wearing a sideways cap, for Christ's sake. So obviously you start playing it, but slowly you begin to sense that there's something deeply wrong with this game.
Something deeply, deeply wrong.
Yes, behind its radical cover, this game is actually about overcoming peer pressure and saying no to drugs -- Wally Bear is a fucking narc. At the end of each level, you're presented with a valuable life lesson straight out of a Power Rangers PSA, most of which are delivered in creepily deserted subway stations or strange ziggurat-like structures:
You don't see shit like that when you're sober. Wally, you hypocrite.
In fact, the game was originally supposed to be called Wally Bear and the Just Say No Gang, but the company apparently didn't feel like forking out the license fee to use that phrase (they didn't want kids to lay off drugs that much). Trying to teach children about this stuff through video games isn't necessarily a terrible idea, but at least be a little more upfront about it, otherwise they'll feel betrayed and start doing crack. The unlicensed NES title Raid 2020 had a much better approach, starting with its title card, which includes a machine gun and the phrase "WINNERS FIGHT DRUGS."
"SIMPLY NOT DOING DRUGS IS FOR WIMPS."
In this one, which incidentally is by the same company as the nonviolent Jesus game, all you do is shoot drug dealers to death with your laser gun while avoiding deadly bird poo.
Just like a real narcotics officer.
Your mission is to murder every single motherfucking drug dealer in the city -- all of them. Also all the birds and the bugs and the occasional shark. Show the tiniest shred of mercy toward any living thing and you'll be thrown back into the stage. See, Wally Bear, that's how you send a message.
"Al isn't a drug dealer, I just hate him."
This is literally what it says up there: Windows 98 for Nintendo. Someone made a bootleg version of the Windows 98 operating system to be used with the same console you played Duck Hunt on, because human culture is over and we're living in some kind of strange overtime. And, yes, it's better than Windows 8, haha (let's get the obvious joke out of the way quick). Using your trusty square joystick for navigation, you can look at your desktop:
It has a working Start button, thereby making it better than Wind- shit.
Click and open folders:
Just don't open the NES emulator inside or the universe will explode.
Look at the pictures of Pikachu on your hard drive:
And yes, he's naked in all of them.
And even open Internet Explorer and browse the World Wide Web:
Two percent of Cracked readers are seeing this from there right now, according to our stats.
Of course, the game isn't really doing any of that stuff -- you can tell because Explorer didn't take five minutes to open. This isn't actually a functional operating system, you dummy; it's just letting you pretend to do those things because you're hopelessly lonely and it pities you. As baffling as this is, it's made even more baffling by the fact that someone also made an NES version of Windows 2000 that adds Solitaire functionality.
Hey, I wonder what happens if you enter the Konami Code during the intro screen ...
Do you have a cell phone with a camera? Then you're halfway to winning our pocket film contest. Bust out that phone and show us the funny in 30-seconds or less for your chance to win. Check out the contest details and submit here.