Retro Resolution Gaming Essay
Guest essay courtesy of SweetMrGibs

Interview with Dr Greg Bradley, 21:16 November 3rd, 2015, Lizards Breath Sanatorium, Nevada.
Interviewee is clearly insane, with unkempt white hair, staring eyes and a slither of drool hanging tenuously from the corner of his mouth. He seems calm at present but constantly fidgets. He seems to be holding something small and red in his hands. He won’t tell me what it is, but the nurses say he’s not a threat. Unfortunately he’ll only be coherent for an hour or so, so I’m getting started. . .
Hello my boy. It’s been a while since they’ve let me talk to anyone. You must be very special. Are you? Or are you sneaky? Are you after the gift I have in my hand? You can’t have it, I’m afraid. But I will show it to you, once you’ve listened to my tale. . .

Back in ‘51 I was a promising young geologist. I’d already seen several of my papers published and had begun lecturing at Oxford University. The world was my fossilised oyster and I was prying it open with my rock hammer. But it all changed that summer when my superiors sent me to the US. You see, there’d been a recent meteor crash near a town called Lizards Breath – how quaint a name I’d thought at the time – and they wanted me to study it. Alas, the things I witnessed there can never be unseen, and I fear that only by recounting my tale will I ever rid myself of the demons ANTS! that ravage my mind. For far too long the secret of that dusty town have been hidden in the back of my mind, and the cost has been the erosion of my sanity. Yes, dear boy, I realise that I’m quite mad, but these pills. . . they keep the voices at bay, at least for a while. Don’t they, voices? Yes.