I don't know how many people have played the 1990 DOS computer game Treasure Mountain, but let me tell you, is it something. Here's the basic premise: you're a net-toting sleuth who wanders around the eponymous mountain procuring elves, who present you with dire enigmas such as what two and four make, or which word rhymes with boat. If you crack their cryptic cyphers, they provide you with mysterious clues to the eponymous treasure, such as "triangle." With this piece of information you scour the mountain for triangular items, peering frantically behind them in search of various "treasures" such as teddy bears and pie.
The process by which you "search" for "treasure" is to throw a coin to the ground, which immediately vanishes in a puff of smoke. This mystic ritual somehow causes the target object to shimmer for a moment, revealing any trinkets stashed within. Once you find a key, you can go up to the next level of the mountain. The key is hidden behind whichever object matches the elves' clues most exactly. Treasures are hidden behind objects that match two of the three clues.
The "objects" behind which you search vary as you scale the mountain. At the base, you will find trees, signs, mushrooms, bushes, and flowers of all shapes and sizes. Specifically, the shapes are "square," "triangle," "rectangle," and "round," and the sizes are "big," "biggest," "small," and "smallest." Sometimes the objects are grouped in small clusters, and are defined by number. In the middle level of the mountain, you'll find rocks, acorns, nests, berries, and more flowers and signs. Finally, at the top, you will find snowmen, sleds, snowballs, shovels, pinecones, and yet more signs. It seems that the elves residing on this mountain treat signs with some sort of religious reverence. Perhaps they worship them as idols, or sacrifice snowmen to them in some dark ceremony. One can only speculate.
One you reach the top of the mountain with your pack of treasures, you confront the Master of Mischief. He stands by helplessly, clinging to the window (for some reason he is on the outside of the tower, which is at least several dozen feet high) as you place treasures in a treasure chest. When the treasures have been deposited, he becomes enraged, and you jump down a chute. After falling THE HEIGHT OF AN ENTIRE MOUNTAIN PLUS A TOWER, you land safely at the bottom, ready to begin your next adventure, which is exactly the same as the first.
But not quite. Once you have done exactly the same thing five or six times, you begin to face new challenges. The first is not to stab yourself in the throat from the crushing boredom. But once you've gotten past that, the rest are fairly straightforward. As you keep climbing the mountain and falling all the way back down, you collect more treasures per journey. Soon, the elves become malicious, sprinkling deadly elf dust at you which will steal your magical coins. Luckily, if you ever run out of coins, coins will start to materialize on the ground, ripe for the plucking. Perhaps the elves have placed them there as an offering, squinting at you with fearful awe as you swing your tangled net. Since you'll always be able to get coins, the only way to lose the game is to stop playing. And the sweet joy of escape from the horrible monotony of the game is a victory unto itself.
Later in the game (if it can be called "later" since the gameplay is entirely cyclical), the bridges in the upper levels begin to grow weak with wear, and will break if you try to walk on them. Luckily, you'll only fall ABOUT THIRTY FEET, so you'll be completely unharmed. As for other changes in the game as you progress...well, the only other one that springs to mind is the apathy and rage that will build up in your heart as you scale the mountain for the eighteenth time, only to fall back down and have to do it all over again.
To make matters worse, the character's movement speed is somewhere between "meander" and "saunter." It is possible to do a flip, but doing a flip usually takes even longer than meandering, often leaving you airborne for three or more seconds. It is also possible, I believe, to change direction in midair, allowing you to remain airborne indefinitely. But that's okay; after all, the game is designed to teach reading and math, not physics. With a soundtrack entirely by Bach and Beethoven (rendered in state-of-the-art MIDI), it is ideal for any budding mind or for anyone who needs a legitimate excuse to commit suicide.
FINAL RATING: SISYPHEAN
