Giant Robot Invasion!

I never watched this show growing up.

Seriously. I never caught it when it debuted on ABC, and I definitely never watched it when it appeared on UPN’s morning weekday filler slot. And why would I? It was just a spinoff of Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, a popular sitcom that I never watched either. Even worse, it was produced by DiC Entertainment, who were involved in a lot of crappy shows that I only watched because I had nothing else better to do. Besides, the commercials told me what toys to look for during one of our family vacations to Wal-Mart.

But even though I’ve never seen this show, it’s my duty here at Giant Robot Invasion to review it, since it was (only barely) a part of the era in which I grew up. With that said, let’s take a look at Sabrina: the Animated Series, using information I heard entirely from other people.

What, is Sabrina a cat? I definitely have no answer for that question, or any other question you might ask to try and convince me that I, in fact, know about this show. Which I know nothing about.

This show is about a younger Sabrina who attends middle school and gets into a variety of magical midsadventures. (Or so I’ve been told.) In every episode, she dips into her “Spooky Jar” for a spell that will fix the day’s problem, even though she’s forbidden to abuse magic. However, the spell always manages to backfire, leaving Sabrina with a bigger mess to clean up. I guess that what happens when you keep spells in a jar-eventually they get stale.

After I heard about this concept from a friend (who is a girl and would like this stuff better than guys like me), I have to wonder. Sabrina’s family keeps telling her not to abuse magic, and yet they leave the damn Spooky Jar on top of the fridge or on a shelf. Look, if you want the teenager to stop abusing magic, why can’t you lock the spell-giving jar inside a cabinet with a special padlock or something?
“I bought one of those name-brand locks to make sure no one gets into this jar.”
“Name brand, huh? What’s it called?”
“Smith and Wesson.”

I’ve also been informed that Sabrina is surrounded by younger versions of characters from the original sitcom, like Harvey Kinkle and her aunts, Hilda and Zelda. Now, if you’ve seen Sabrina, the Teenage Witch (which I haven’t), you’d know that Hilda and Zelda were at least 600 years old, and look to be at least 30. It’d make sense that they’d look about 25 or so while Sabrina was in middle school, right? Well, it turns out that Hilda and Zelda were turned into teenagers during these years because they abused magic. How can you tell? I’m not sure, especially when these characters look NOTHING like their adult versions.

I’m not sure who is supposed to be who, but I’m fairly sure no one is supposed to be brown and half-asleep.

And not only have Hilda and Zelda been turned into teenagers, they apparently have to go to high school and learn how to drive while obeying the rules of Sabrina’s guardian, Uncle Quigley. Why? What purpose does this serve? They’re over 600 years old-it’s not like they wouldn’t know how to do this stuff already. I may not be a warlock, but I don’t see how this is an effective punishment for abusing magic. Personally, I think it’d be better if they were turned into trees. The plot twist is that they don’t do anything and we don’t feel insulted when we go home.

My other friend claims that at least they got Nick Bakay to voice Salem in the cartoon like he did in the sitcom. I can’t personally tell you what that’s like, but I hear cartoon Salem saunters around in a smoking jacket a la Hugh Hefner and prods Sabrina into using magic because he’s an asshole. I have to say, if I ever sat down to watch every single episode of this series multiple times in syndication, I’d think Salem was easily the best character out of the whole lot. That’s why when Salem gets on a bus, everyone else has to get up and go to the back.

But even if I wanted to watch this show (which I don’t) I’d be cautious. This is a DiC series we’re talking about here. DiC cartoons are infamous for cheesy plotlines, flat characters, and inconsistent animation. This show is no different. Pouring over the notes that my other friend obsessively took while watching a couple of episodes, I’ve learned that while the animation is passable, this show has several other problems that only enhance how lame it is. (His words, not mine.)

For example, this show has a load of EXCELLENT episode title puns, which every cartoon is required to have by law. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love a good reference, and the show apparently drops in some pop culture references from time to time. However, it’s mostly limited to those awful title puns-they don’t really do anything else with them. One episode is called “Field of Screams”, and involves a group of baseball-playing monsters called the “Impalers” taking over the local joints in Sabrina’s town. Look, if you’ve got a gang of baseball players dominating town, why didn’t you model the episode after The Warriors and have the local kids face down the monsters with a team called “The Baseball Furies”?

Impalers, come out to play-ay~

And it says here that some of these references don’t make sense. In the episode “Boy Meets Bike”, Sabrina offers to take Harvey to a double feature showing the two Armour of God movies. But wait a minute-Armour of God 2 was released first in the US as Operation Condor, and after that Armour of God 1 was released direct-to-video as Operation Condor 2: Armour of the Gods. Are they going to see the original Hong Kong flicks, or are they going to see the American versions, which they probably wouldn’t know are really titled Armour of God unless they Googled it like I did?

Eh. Maybe they know a film buff who spends his weekend watching movies like Bruce Lee VS. Bad Guys From Stephen King Novels. (Apparently what “It” fears the most is a roundhouse.)

Then there are times where the references are just plain wrong. In another episode where Sabrina, Harvey, and Salem are sucked into Harvey’s indie comic book, they find that a green blob called the Dreaded Dysphylia is erasing the entire comic book world. Harvey gets pretty bummed about it-he’s come to believe that his comic book skills suck, and so he doesn’t want to come up with a plan. I’d call the Ghostbusters for help, but since we’re stuck in a comic book, the only thing we can do now is try to stall with the Filibusters.

But another character called “Perfecto, Pooch of Power” is amused, and says that you don’t really hear the world “Dysphylia” in a comic book that often.

“Dysphylia is defined as the inability to like oneself.”

…hold on.

No it’s not! Dysphylia is a GENUS, which has nothing to do with liking yourself! The closest word that relates to liking yourself is “dysphoria”, which basically means ‘feeling bad’! Did these guys even do any research? If this blob is supposed to represent Harvey’s self-loathing, why didn’t they make sure its name was actually related to depression? Who knows. Maybe one of the senior interns was supposed to look it up, if his ventriloquist hadn’t called in sick that day.

But these notes explain that the biggest problem of this show is the total lack of character development. Now, it’s true that a lot of episodic cartoons don’t really have character development. It’s not exactly a bad thing. But consider this for a moment-the entire premise of Sabrina: The Animated Series involves Sabrina abusing magic to solve a problem, only to learn a valuable life lesson after the spell backfires and she’s forced to settle things herself. Sounds reasonable enough.

So, with this new experience under her belt, what does Sabrina do in the next episode? SHE ABUSES MAGIC.

I didn’t expect this at all!

Really, why do you show that Sabrina “learns a lesson” when it’s clear she doesn’t learn a damn thing at all? People change because of events in their life. You’d think that after lots of wacky hijinks, Sabrina would realize that using a spell isn’t going to work, especially when those spells come in a box that says “As Seen On TV”.

And, according to my notes, there’s one incident that’s probably the worst case of “retaining the status quo” I have ever seen. See, Sabrina has a rival named Gem Stone who often abuses her wealth to show up Sabrina and try to win Harvey’s favor. Okay, no problem. But in one episode, Gem’s family actually loses all of their money, and Gem is forced to live with Sabrina for a while. Gem eventually develops a healthy and profound respect for Sabrina, and though she gets her money back at the end of the episode, you know that she’ll never be the same again.

Does this affect any future episode? NO. Come on, guys. If you’re not going to take advantage of character development, then don’t develop your characters in the first place. I’d rather have cardboard people that characters who develop right into a brick wall. Actually, forget cardboard people-I’d rather have some action figures. Like Optimus Prime. Then Skeletor can steal Barbie so Optimus has to team up with Snake Eyes to stop him. Oh yeah, that would be awesome.

GIVE ME YOUR FACE

Overall, I can only guess that Sabrina: The Animated Series was pretty forgettable, though it sounds harmless. And hey-the show was apparently produced by Savage Steve Holland, who created the awesome Eek! the Cat. That’s pretty cool. Still, if you’re gonna watch something by DiC, you might as well watch Inspector Gadget. At least his theme song is way more awesome.

Oh! My other Sabrina-liking friend has just shown up and told me that this show got a follow-up called Sabrina’s Secret Life, involving practically no one from the original voice cast. Judging by how much Sabrina: The Animated Series isn’t worth it, I’m glad I also never paid attention to Sabrina’s Secret Life.

(I’m being serious. I don’t remember that damn show at all.)

I didn’t go on a lot of field trips during my time in school. Sure, I’ve gone to some neat places, like the National Naval Air Museum. But field trips are expensive-most of the time I went to local attractions. (My eighth grade field trip was to the bowling alley next door. Personally, I think the school should’ve just bought my math teacher an accent I could understand.)

However, I’d rather take the bowling alley over the batshit insane field trips that Ms. Frizzle subjects her students to in the Magic School Bus animated series. Oh, sure, it sounds like a great idea at first. Why read about the water cycle when you can experience it firsthand? After all, it’s much better to learn hands-on than through school work. You’ll never see a brain surgeon who goes, “You’ll be fine, sir. I was absent when we did the cerebellum, but I found out where to cut by looking it up on Wikipedia.”

But that’s the problem-in Ms. Frizzle’s class, firsthand experience really is firsthand. Learning about weather? The bus sails into the clouds and produces dials that let you create a thunderstorm. Learning about the human body? The bus shrinks down and allows you to get eaten. Learning about how eggs are made? I’ll let you create that mental image.

Here we find Cluckers about to undergo a particularly traumatic prostate exam.

Now you might be thinking, “Well, some field trips aren’t as dangerous as others, right?.” Incorrectamundo! Danger doesn’t matter. If you’re not desensitized to the wackiness of a Ms. Frizzle field trip, you run the risk of a mental breakdown. Take the field trip into space, for example. In this episode, a student named Arnold invites his cousin Janet to attend Frizzle’s class for the day. She doesn’t believe that Frizzle’s field trips are as unusual as Arnold says they are, but her tune quickly changes when the bus suddenly transforms into a spaceship and blasts off into space!

Be honest. If you were a third grader and you were suddenly hurtled out of the Earth’s atmosphere by a magic bus, you’d probably freak. That’s great for scientists-they’re always trying to figure out what makes children ruin their good underwear. Not Janet, though. She realizes that she needs evidence to prove to her friends that she’s been in space, so she starts collecting junk from every planet they visit. It gets to be too much when the bus is struck by an asteroid while Janet attempts to grab a space rock for herself. Look, proving that you’ve been into space is hardly worth killing yourself over, especially after the Alien movies came up with so many reasons why we should stay put.

But Janet won’t listen to reason-even as Ms. Frizzle floats out to fix the damage on the bus, Janet forgets about helping out when she spots another asteroid flying by. As she tries to snag it, she accidentally sends another asteroid hurtling right at Frizzle, but her faithful chameleon Liz hits Frizzle’s jetpack and rockets her to safety.

Hope you all remembered to turn in last night’s homewooooooooooork~

The problem is that Frizzle flies out of the asteroid belt, and now the kids have to use Frizzle’s hints to find out where she’s headed. Naturally, everyone’s pissed off at Janet. And why shouldn’t they be? Gollum over here could’ve killed them all. You just had to collect asteroids, didn’t you? Why not something more safe, like pornography?

Eventually, the kids find their way to Pluto using Frizzle’s clues, all the while holding Janet down so she can stop picking up more intergalactic crap. (I’ve always wanted to say “intergalactic crap”.) They land on Pluto and find Frizzle and Liz observing the stars. They share a heartfelt reunion, but unfortunately, Janet spoils the mood by driving up in the bus filled with Pluto rocks. The bus gets so sick of this that it spits her and her crap out into a neat little pile. Well, you know what they say in the Bible-crap begets crap. I don’t know which passage, but it’s always the one that makes children snicker.

Get this-Janet just sits there, arms folded, proclaiming that she’s not going home without all of her evidence. Now we’ve lost her, ladies and gentlemen. The field trip has offically snapped her chain if she wants to jeopardize the whole adventure for her selfish needs. And she doesn’t even need all of her crap. She picked up storm gas from JUPITER, for crying out loud. Is that not enough? Does she think scientists are gonna look at her and go, “This is nice, but we think you can try a bit harder next time”?

But you thought Janet was crazy? That’s nothing compared to cousin Arnold. He doesn’t want her to stay on Pluto and freeze to death. Do you want to know how he gets Janet to reconsider her priorities?

HE TAKES HIS HELMET OFF ON PLUTO.

What the HELL is wrong with you?! What the hell would convince someone to take their helmet off on PLUTO? What was going through your mind at the time? Did you think you could outdo Pluto or something? “The one who holds their breath the longest gets to be the new ninth planet, understand? Lemme go, Jessie Sue, I gotta do this!”

We can only assume the inherent stress of a field trip in space was enough to drive Arnold over the edge. But fortunately, it’s enough to jolt Janet back to reality. She freaks and drags Arnold back on the bus, demanding they return back to Earth immediately. As for Arnold? Well, somehow he SURVIVES taking his helmet off on Pluto and only ends up with a COLD. You know, Arnold may be a weird name for a planet, but I think he deserves the title anyway.

But exposing yourself to Pluto’s freezing tempratures is a normal day for these kids. They see things up close that we can never hope to experience, like the inside of someone’s bloodstream or the middle of a birthday cake as it’s being baked. At one point they even travel inside a bad science fiction movie and help the army capture a giant praying mantis. (Shouldn’t Mike and the robots be making fun of this or something?)

But the main reason these field trips are so messed up is due to Ms. Frizzle’s fascination with transforming her students into different creatures. Sure, turning into a lizard offers an insight on how reptiles regulate their body heat, but it’s a pretty demented way to learn. It’s not just animals, either. In one episode, a girl named Phoebe needs to grow a vine for her school’s production of Jack in the Beanstalk. How does Ms. Frizzle solve this problem? Easy! She just uses the bus to turn Phoebe into a vine.

Doesn’t this just smack of “Ironic Twilight Zone Ending”?

But Phoebe needs to be really tall to work as a credible beanstalk. To do that, the class travels INSIDE her roots to learn about photosynthesis and how plants grow. And I swear to God, once they find out plants make sugar water for food, a student decides that the best way to verify this is to TASTE it.

“I guess not everyone can taste like carpet, huh?”

But easily the most screwed up of field trips occurs when the bus turns into a salmon and migrates upstream. As we all know, salmon migrate upstream to reproduce. And HOW does Ms. Frizzle’s class learn about this first-hand?

The bus LAYS THE CHILDREN AS EGGS.

A male SHOOTS HIS LOAD ON THEM.

The bus BURIES THEM UNDER RUBBLE.

And then the kids HATCH.

EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW. What in the BLUE PERFECT HELL is wrong with you, Ms. Frizzle? I know I advocate hands-on experience over textbook learning, but this is just SICK! Although in Japan, I’m pretty sure some of their computer games call this a bonus stage.

What’s really messed up is that the kids are strangely enthusiastic about this. In fact, as they go through the process, they start to lose any doubts they may have, reveling in their new lives as salmon.

WHY DO YOU LOOK SO CHIPPER. YOU’VE BEING TURNED INTO BABY SALMON. I’M PRETTY SURE “THE OUTER LIMITS” IS LOOKING TO FILM YOU.

Okay, I’ll be fair. None of the episodes are as weird as the salmon one. Most of them are actually pretty tame. The Magic School Bus is a kid’s show, after all, and even now it’s still an enjoyable series. I’m just being cautious here. If my children ever get the offer to go on a whimsical field trip with a wacky red-haired teacher, I’ll have no choice but to ask about her education. I’m sure it’ll be fine…just as long she doesn’t use a man named “Dr. Insano” as a teacher reference.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit down and regret all the times I ate food from Captain D’s Seafood Kitchen.

The Pokemon bug first swarmed America when I was in middle school. It was a hit among the students-they played the video games, traded the cards, watched the show, and were pretty much happy to be alive. Back then, my family couldn’t afford cheap plastic crap like everyone else, so to capture some of the excitement for myself, I began keeping a list of Pokemon names in my pocket. Whenever I heard the name of a Pokemon I didn’t know about, I scribbled it on the list. It was my own personal Pokedex-my own way to catch ‘em all.

Then my efforts were ruined when my list ended up in the washing machine, smudging all of the entries. I was pretty depressed for a while. Fortunately, my classmates helped take my mind off of it by making fun of my weight.

Oh, but don’t think this was the end, dear reader. That list ignited a fire within, a desire to embrace Pokemon without actually having to pay money for it. A grand obsession soon overtook me as I seized each and every opportunity to fill my Pokemon larders. I glued pictures of Pokemon merchandise inside a paper binder. I clipped miniature Pokemon cards from boxes of Lunchables. I made someone else eat Burger King so I could snatch one of the toys that came in a plastic Pokeball. (Apparently these Pokeball halves could actually get caught over someone’s face and suffocate them. I tried using one to subdue a brutish attacker once, but it just made him mad. It was okay, though. Pavement and I go way back.)

Eventually, actual Pokemon merchandise entered my life. I received a copy of the Pokemon Red video game, and I also managed to pick up a Pokemon Trading Card Game starter deck as well. (I was disappointed when the instructions said that I required “a friend”.) Later I got Pokemon comic books and Pokemon stuffed animals. Clearly, the universe was aligning with my mission, realizing the nobility of my quest and slowly driving Pokemon merchandise toward me. I definitely deserved it, since I was very smart, and far kinder than thse stupid asshats that made up my peers. I had entered a new age of material goods, and now I was truly happy to be alive.

But it wasn’t enough. It never was enough. Soon I would become bored with my 312-piece Pokemon board game and push it aside, striving for more. I began to keep obsessive notes of where I saw each Pokemon item that I lusted for, as well as different whining strategies I could use to get my parents to buy it for me. Each item became its own hunt-it was the prey, and I was the prey-er. But the hunts soon took their toll-I began blacking out at unexpected times, returning back to conciousness with a Pikachu doll or a Jigglypuff poster in my hands. At first I blew it off. So what if I kept blacking out? I always got what I wanted, and that was good enough for me. Besides, you could still see the Jigglypuff underneath the blood.

Then my middle-school friend Adam told me that Pokemon Red was coming out with a sequel. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as Adam opened his magazine, revealing a glorious four-paged feature packed with information about the successors of the Pokemon franchise-Pokemon Gold and Pokemon Silver.

The fire inside my soul exploded. It had grown with each game or toy I had acquired, and up to this point, I was able to contain it. But now, confronted with the promise of new Pokemon games, and new Pokemon to boot, the inferno unleashed its full potential, overcoming my body, driving my actions. It was now in control, and it wanted MORE.

“Ow!” I cried, clenching my chest.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

“My chest really hurts!” I said. “I…I think I’m having a heart attack!”

“Oh my God!”

“OF RAGE!“

“Huh?”

But I was beyond simple “huh”s. I leapt upon the feature article, tearing it out with the ferocity of a wild animal.

“What’s happening to him?” a girl shouted.

“He’s…he’s turning into a monster!” a boy cried out.

“He’s a werewolf!” Adam said. “Pokemon is his power source!“

Apparently it was true! The Poke-rays eminating from the feature article had triggered an astounding transformation! Now, whenever I was exposed to Poke-rays for too long, the world would have to deal with the astonishing might of…

“POKE-WOLF”

Today’s Adventure: “70 Degrees, With a 50% Chance of DIE!”

I don’t remember much after that. Somehow I was thankfully defeated, reverted back to normal after someone discovered that, without any silver bullets to use, the only thing that could hurt me now was rejection. I later awoke from my experience in a hospital, and after I learned all that transpired, I implored that all of the Pokemon merchandise be removed from my presence, lest I fall prey to the curse of Poke-Wolf once again!

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” my doctor said. “You’ve developed an addiction to Poke-rays. If you don’t continually absorb the Poke-rays coming off of your merchandise, you will die.”

“So I have to carry the curse of Poke-Wolf forever?” I asked.

“Well, the curse of Poke-Wolf isn’t entirely without benefits,” the doctor said. “As Poke-Wolf, you become stronger, faster, and gain a healthy tolerance toward other freaks of nature.”

“I already feel sorry for those assholes!” I claimed.

The doctor demonstrated an impressive chart. “Plus, we’ve discovered that, since Poke-Wolf was created through excessive Pokemon merchandise, you now have the ability to shoot money from your fingers. This could be a great help towards keeping our economy afloat and reducing the national debt. You would be doing your country a great service.”

“Wow…”

The doctor now removed his glasses, focusing on me with a stern, but warm eye. “Now, you have to promise me to use your powers for good, and not for personal gain. You’ve been given an incredible gift, my friend. You have to use it for the good of everyone, no matter how much they may hate you, or reject you. Because, as we all know, with great power comes great responsibility.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I will exercise responsibility with my powers.”

“Good!” the doctor said.

“To start, I will responsibly use them to buy a convertible.”

“Get out.”

So that’s my sordid tale. I hope it serves as an example to any of you youngsters out there who want to start collecting Pokemon. It is fun, granted, but if taken too far…it can ruin your life forever. Me? I couldn’t remain at home. I couldn’t endanger the lives of my family and friends, and risk the Poke-Wolf accidentally shooting money at them. It would be too much to bear. And so, I sentenced myself to wandering this world, running into a different adventure each and every month that can be resolved in 24 pages.

Don’t repeat my mistake. Don’t force into an adventurous lifestyle filled with money and superpowers like I did. Please, limit your daily exposure to Poke-rays. It will keep you healthy, and, more importantly, it will keep you bland. God knows if I could go back in time, I’d make myself do the same.

(Poke-Wolf later used his only chance of going back in time to make out with Cleopatra. It wasn’t as good as everyone says it was.)

In 1984, Hasbro released Transformers, a toyline of action figures based on robots that could be rearranged to form vehicles, such as cars and planes. The figures were divided into two factions-the heroic Autobots, led by Optimus Prime, and the evil Decepticons, led by Megatron. An animated series was created to promote the toyline, which in turn led to a theatrical movie. All in all, it translated into a lot of toy sales, which made Hasbro very happy.

I’ve read opinions criticizing the original Transformers cartoon for really not doing much well besides hocking toys, and that nostalgia’s the only reason we remember it so fondly. Fair enough. I watched a lot of cartoons like that when I was a kid. They were filled with flat characters and generic plotlines, but I’ll be damned if they didn’t make me want to buy toys. Too many cartoons are like that-sure, they’re loud and colorful, but look past that, and it’s got no core.

But every once in a while a show comes along that defies the convention. Sure, its main purpose is to sell toys, and it does that job well, but it’s the kind of show that wants to surpass the cheap and become something even greater. Beast Wars was that show.

Beast Wars details the struggle between the Maximals and the Predacons, descended from the Autobots and the Decepticons, respectively. As the first episode begins, a Predacon warship shoots down a Maximial research ship while flying above an unknown planet. However, while the Maximal ship is going down, it fires a few lucky shots that knock down the warship with it. Both ships land on the planet and discover that it’s full of a powerful fuel source called Energon, but since the Energon’s raw, prolonged exposure will short them out. To protect themselves, both sides take on alternate modes that are shielded from the Energon, based on animals and dinosaurs found around the planet. (No cars or planes here, but when you want to survive, you get creative.) The series involves the Maximals and the Predacons battling for control, but as the planet reveals its hidden mysteries, both sides get drawn into literally world-shaking events that end up changing the course of Transformers history.

Since it’s a toy-based show, I might as well get this angle out of the way first. Don’t get me wrong-despite my earlier words, I like toys, and Beast Wars had a great toyline. While most previous Transformers toys were heavy blocks of metal with limited posability, Beast Wars toys were made of plastic parts coupled together by ball joints, making them cheaper and far more posable. Hasbro soon introduced variations on the basic animals to extend the line-Transmetals were metallized animals with a third bonus mode that gave them aspects of a vehicle like jets or wheels, and Fuzors were Transformers with a beast mode comprised of two animals squished together. Near the end we even got a few Transmetal 2 figures, which look so strange that words can’t really do them justice.

There was no problem selling these toys. The figures were varied and the show made them look cool and interesting. Beast Wars could’ve stopped right there and still be considered a success.

But there was a big trick in Beast Wars‘s arsenal, a strategy that the show used to etch itself in the minds of its viewers. What was this trick?

Simple. They made us care.

Let me explain. Beast Wars was produced by Mainframe Entertainment, now called Rainmaker Animation. The whole show was animated with computer graphics, so in order to cut down on costs, the Maximals and Predacons were limited to five members each. This was a change from the original Transformers cartoon, which was populated by a larger group of characters in order to advertise toys. But that’s the problem with the original cartoon-the cast was simply too large. As a result, most of the characters were limited to flat personality traits that made them seem…well, Saturday morning cartoonish. Not Beast Wars. With a smaller cast, the writers were able to spend more time on each character’s personality.

And that’s why Beast Wars was good. The story. The toys were great, sure, but the story is what set the show above the mediocre. Each Maximal or Predacon carried a variety of traits that became clear as episodes centered around them. The Maximal Rattrap wisecracked and bemoaned his fate, but to use a familiar phrase, when the chips were down, he had it where it counts. The Predacon leader Megatron commanded his presence with an overdramatic flair while masterfully manipulating others into accomplishing his schemes. Several Predacons, in particular, go through their own story arcs that eventually lead them to the side of the Maximals. All of this, combined under a tight storyline that peeled away at the intrigue surrounding the planet, created something epic and unforgettable, something that kept us to our seats as characters we cared for changed, grew, fell in love, die, and even become reborn.

Some Transformers fans were initially angry that Beast Wars eschewed the familiar vehicles in place of animals. But, over time, many of its critics were won over by Beast Wars’s willingness to do more than just sell toys. Yeah, sure, in the end you’re dealing with hunks of plastic, but Beast Wars made them feel like something more, and to a kid, that means a lot.

Is Beast Wars a perfect show? No. But it does enough things right. If you’re a cartoon fan who hasn’t seen this show yet, I recommend you give a look, even if you’re not a Transformers fan. You find something that was crafted with care.

If America has discovered one thing, it’s the value of cashing in on other people’s ideas. Take Yu-Gi-Oh, for example. This franchise is centered around a Japanese comic book where teenagers play a collectible card game to decide the fate of the Earth, and with a storyline like that, merchandise wasn’t too far behind. Not only did they make a card game based on the game in the comic, but they also made books, video games, and even a full-fledged animated series. This was good for America, because around this time the Pokemon juggernaut had lost some of its strength, and investors are always on the hunt for fresh juggernauts to harness.

Of course, success breeds imitators. Yu-Gi-Oh was no different. Soon, bright and flashy remixes of other children’s games appeared, like Beyblade with tops and Battle B-Daman with marbles. (I think Bakugan is based on some form of children’s drinking game. I believe this is the case because, every time I watch the cartoon, I’d rather be drinking.) Like Yu-Gi-Oh, these franchises mutated classic games beyond all recognition with exaggerated gameplay and wide-eyed protagonists in a world where culture is defined by how well you twist your toy.

Is this what the classics are doomed to become? Have our children grown so jaded that the simple toys of yesteryear fail to provide any sort of entertainment at all?

Those are good questions. Here’s another: how do I get in on it?

Here are a few of my ideas to renovate classic children’s games for a new generation. With the appropriate cartoon or comic book tie-in, these ideas will make me very rich. But, I’m willing to share, so if any of these ideas appeal to television producers/toy makers/rich and beautiful widows, please meet with me as soon as possible so we can discuss my future.

POGS. In a world where pogs are the most popular game on the planet, a young, spiky-haired boy named Ryo fights to earn the title of Supreme Infinite King of PogBattlers. To succeed, he’ll need to master his pog slamming skills alongside his trademark pog, Oversized Dragon. At his side is his large-breasted kinda-on-and-off girlfriend Mizuki and Chim-Chim, his hilarious monkey sidekick. At his back is Valius, androgynous and long-haired rival who seeks the title of Supreme Infinite King at all costs. Ryo must train hard if he hopes to surpass his rival and achieve his dream.

FOOSBALL. In a world where arguments are resolved in games of foosball, a young, spiky-haired boy named Akira struggles to free his world from the Grand Dark Ballers, a society of evil foosball players who use their lethal foosball skills to rule with an iron fist. To defeat them, he must use the ancient art of Foosballdo, a playing style incorporating eight sacred foosball shots that attack the vital points of any opponent’s defense. Accompanying Akira on his quest is Reiko, a girl with a skirt that gets shorter in every episode, and Pinky, a large blob creature who happens to be dangerously perverted. If Akira is to save the planet, he must defeat the Four Divinist Generals before he is allowed to take on Emperor Baller himself for the fate of the world.

SOLITARE. In a world where monsters are captured within playing cards, a young, spiky-haired boy named Byakko wants to find the Ace of Poles, the only playing card produced for the secret fifth suit of solitare. Sealed inside the Ace of Poles is the legendary Super Fantasma Phoenix-to control this monster is to control the world. Aiding him in his journey is a skilled solitare player named Fuuma, who hides her affection toward Byakko by routinely beating him half to death. However, the evil mage King Joker is also on the hunt for the Ace of Poles, and with an army of mind slaves at his command, it’s going to take a lot of exciting and gruesome monster solitare battles to get to the end. It all leads up to a final confrontation with King Joker, where the Ace of Poles-and Fuuma’s life-hangs in the balance.

(NOTE: This idea applies to the original Japanese version. Before bringing it to America, it would have to be heavily censored and revised in order to market it to children. All instances of death would be erased, scenes of violence would be cut and refered to as “noogie time”, and character dialogue would be rewritten to make it more suitable for young viewers. Therefore, we could expect the English version to hold approximately forty-nine card puns per episode.)

These are but a few of my brilliant ideas. I’m confident that, using this basic structure, even backgammon can become exciting and viable. If you’d like to learn more get-rich-quick ideas, please send me a check in an envelope made out of $50 bills.

Until then, I’m off to watch Super Battle Jacks XE.