Treasure Master: A Slap In The Nads From MTV

Ah, 1992. The good ol' days. I was but a wee lad, too young to know and understand the complexities of things such as demographics and Nielsen Ratings. However, while I was interested in things other than video games (that was to come a few years later), MTV was busy plotting a new form of sweepstakes that would surely take over the world. Or at least that's the only explanation I have for this wad of chewin' tobaccy stuck in the Grillz of the Nintendo Entertainment System.


The Idea.

MTV teamed up with American Softworks (who later closed their doors in 2000, HIGH FIVE) to release a video game that would be used as a vehicle to distribute secret codes in which MTV mouth-breathers could call in and exchange for *Fabulous Prizes*, which, according to Wikipedia include;

• Fantasy Rock Concert
• Fantasy Sports Event
• Fantasy Audio/Video Room
• $10,000.00

I'm going to pretend they were even more dated than that, for research purposes (with the exception of the sweet Audio/Video Room... lulz).
Sound too good to be true? Receiving gifts and rewards for playing a video game??? Tubular! Not quite...

Before you go hit up your local garage sale looking for this cartridge, realize that the contest has been over since April 11th, 1992. I'm sure the winners are still enjoying their brand-new copies of Windows 3.1 and prototype Nicotine patches they were mailed (I'm sure the prizes weren't THAT cool). As far as the game goes, there's nothing rewarding about this hunk of kitty poop.

The End Begins.

Upon start-up, this game already crushes my attention span by making me sit through 22, count 'em, twenty-two seconds (trust me, I counted) of unrelenting silence and coma-inducing jargon about the contest which, for those of you keeping track at home, is OVER! After what seems like 6 eons (possibly longer if you thought your console froze, like I did), the screen becomes a swirling torrent of stars and sweet chiptunes begin making love to your ears. This hypnotizing start screen is botched by the SAME contest rules you were force-fed for twenty-two whole seconds already! BOO! HISS!
Pressing start triggers possibly the most straightforward message in gaming history: GAME ON. Then... the game is on. Your orange tank-top wearing, green Thrasher hat-sporting amigo (named Skooter, apparently) stands there, smiling blankly into the abyss. At this point, first-time players are unprepared for the world ahead of them. This game will BLOW YOUR MIND, and by that I mean, YOU WILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO THE FIRST 5 TO 10 TIMES YOU PLAY IT.

Gameplay.

This game requires item collection, and lots of it. Find some boots? Kick a caterpillar's multitude of asses off before dropkicking his head for a field goal! Find a bomb? Stand over a slightly different colored piece of terrain to blow it up! Find some scissors... Yadda yadda yadda!
Some items in this game are not only perplexing, but downright cruel. For example, at one point, you find an oxygen tank to help you breathe underwater (of course). Equipping it isn't enough, you also have to mash the B button (which ironically almost made me hyperventilate).

Story.

I've been told that the booklet for this game provided a back story for the game (besides the Ponzi scheme MTV had to make bank from it). I've never owned the booklet, so I'll write my own account of the story as I gather from playing the game:

Our hero, Skooter, wakes up after a long night of skating barefooted, listening to Suicidal Tendencies, and getting "Unkle'd" on Colt 45's and Ganja to find he isn't in his parent's basement anymore(which is where all early-90's teens chilled, and consequently, passed out usually). He, instead, finds himself in a fantastic world inhabited by creatures provoked only by bright colors and Zubaz pants. Realizing he has no chance to negotiate with these beasts, Skooter turns into a bloodthirsty killing machine fueled only by the thoughts of treasure and a delicious can of Coke II awaiting him at home.
Something like that.

Baddies.

The enemies Treasure Master are masters of their trade. The dragonfly’s equipped with detachable red cinderblocks (who knows), used for skull-busting, are so accurate, you'd swear they were taught to drop it by Snoop D-O-Double-G himself. The spring-lobster-men-things (still no clue) leave little to no head room to walk under them, I've even tried wearing the hard hat and still got SPRUNG!

Music.

The music is amazing for the first 7 seconds, until your brain tells you its the same 8 measures over-and-over. I like to make Skooter walk to the beat, because his walk mixed with the game music reminds me of the song Vanilla Ice did for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2. This is the most enjoyable part of the game. No joke.

Risk/Reward.

This game does, however, reward its players for their hard work. After completion of the game, I was presented with a code that I could turn in for prizes from MTV! Scha-wing! I called up 1-900-370-TREASURE and, sure enough, the number is no longer in service (I was willing to put money on it being a sex line too). Damn you MTV!!! I WILL find a way to redeem this. I really need a new deluxe 4-head VCR for my Audio/Video Room...

Aftermath.

If I had been born 13 years before 1992 (1979, I guessed it faster than you) and was given Treasure Master and was told to beat it for a chance to win prizes, I'd be on it faster than swine flu (*gasp*). Thankfully, I was born only 4 years before its release(1988, I win again), and I've been instilled with the knowledge that this game is, in fact, not worth any amount of prizes, unless MTV was giving out steamrollers to turn every copy of this game into one big, neon-green, flapjack.