Treasure also has a knack for crafting bizarre little tales to frame their gameplay. Bangai-O is no exception. Our setting is the planet of Dan Star, where the constantly hot-tempered People's Police Officer Riki Makishi returns home one day to find his father, Ban, savagely beaten by the infamous SF Kosmo Gang. Ban explains that he was caught trying to hack into the gang's computer systems, but not before he was somehow able to use stolen plans in the construction a robot known as the Explosion Invincible Bangai-O (yes, really). Taking control of this inappropriately named mecha, Riki and his cute-as-a-puppy sister Mami set off to destroy the SF Kosmo Gang's fearsome network of . . . fruit smugglers.

The siblings' one-robot crusade against the space syndicate spans some 44 stages, all of them rendered in a style that's nearly microscopic. The Bangai-O and such surrounding details as enemy robots, houses, mines, and Tannuki statutes are tiny, rarely occupying more than a few square centimeters of screen space. There's a lot of animation in the miniature sprites, however, and the little characters allow for dozens of enemies and projectiles to swarm at once.

This is most important, as projectiles provide the entire flow of the game. As in the original Nintendo 64 version of Bangai-O, players can switch between Riki and Mami with a button press, opting for either Riki's homing missiles or his sister's reflecting lasers. Using the right type of shot can make quite a difference, as Riki is more effective in open space and Mami proves the better choice for confined areas. Both of them also possess the Scatter Bomb, which tosses out a massive arc of missiles or lasers in direct proportion to the number of enemy bullets surrounding you. The more shots around you, the larger your mass of returned fire will be, resulting in greater destruction and creating more valuable kinds of bonus-point fruit. (And no, there is no civet fruit.) A simple pleasure it may be, but there's something remarkably satisfying about waiting for foes to fill the air around you with bullets and then tapping the trigger to watch an enormous swathe of your shots obliterate every hostile force in sight. The explosions leave only power-ups and a selection of bananas, pineapples, and possibly even watermelons.

With gameplay that revolves around waiting for the biggest possible burst of enemy bullets and then using the Scatter Bomb, Bangai-O runs the risk of growing dull over time. But Treasure rarely relies on a sole gimmick, and the game's architecture compensates admirably for its uncomplicated control. Each of the 44 levels is cleverly designed, requiring cautious play and strategies that don't always favor crazed charge-and-bomb tactics. In addition to a host of robots, there's a series of flame-launchers, laser cannons, space-mines, and other foes awaiting Riki and Mami, and each enemy can be used to an advantage. There are also manifold ways to boost your score, and the varied stage layouts are worth visiting and re-visiting when playing for points.

Of course, Bangai-O's explosion-centric nature isn't free of flaws. It's really easy to die, especially when enemy missiles strike you in rapid succession. And though the Bangai-O robot can fire and move independently in eight directions, the control isn't as tight as it was with the Nintendo 64's idiot savant of a gamepad. Also annoying is the game's inconsistent text speed during the ending, wherein an entire screen of potentially hilarious phrases flies past before anyone could possibly read it. And the soundtrack's a bouncy but less-than-memorable arcade beat, though I never tired of hearing Riki and Mami yell out their attacks with anime-hero gusto.

And missing out on any part of Bangai-O's story is unfortunate. The game is stocked with so many misfit characters that it's hard to notice there isn't a genuine plot. The SF Kosmo Gang alone includes a woman who communicates through incomprehensible drawings, an escargot-eating lawyer, an over-enthusiastic salesman for the Gimunema food company, cats and psychics and old men that sit inside supercomputer cores, and at least one vindictive outcast from the Makishi family. On their side, Riki and Mami are aided by a bored housewife who wears a tree disguise on her head and explains the intricacies of Bangai-O, though she later gives the job to her younger sister, a birdlike medium who channels the spirits of Thomas Edison, Galileo, and other historical celebrities. It's pure nonsense, and it's helped by an awful, inconsistent, and hysterically funny (and perhaps intentionally so) translation. Typos are plentiful, words are capitalized for no reason, and most of the conversations make very little sense. Take, for example, this unedited exchange between Riki and Kashoku, who the game's manual describes as “a hero who saves the day by halting secret weddings organized by an evil wedding syndicate.”

Kashoku: Well!
Riki: I don't believe that! That You've come this time! Kashoku!
Kashoku: In youth it is wrong to yearn for heroism.
Riki: But, now number 2 has come up, you have no chance.
Kashoku: Don't talk such nonsense! The man is scum. He hardly ever works. He is stupid and is easy to beat.
Riki: Nevertheless he is fairly well known.
Kashoku: It is a bad gang! What has it planted in the pure heart of a young man! If that's the case, they will soon ask you properly.
Special training against the Shaba Tengokugoo made by your father.
Riki: Special training? Really! Then I too will soon be able to cut up water

To tell the truth, that's one of the saner discussions that Bangai-O has to offer. In an age that's gifted Zero Wing's “All your base . . .” line with greater recognition than some prominent Biblical passages, it's a wonder that a similar phenomenon hasn't been fashioned from Bangai-O and its plethora of strange and quotable dialogue.

A cult following wouldn't be unwarranted in Bangai-O's case. Even if it hasn't yet attained the same level of respect as Treasure classics like Gunstar Heroes or Radiant Silvergun, I can't help but feel that Bangai-O will prove itself an enduring classic in time. Graphics improve, game consoles die, and many titles are forgotten, but the fine arts of blowing things up and spouting nonsense never grow old. Neither will Bangai-O.