Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

Title: Co-Op Chickens
Developer: Starscream Team
Publisher: Jangle Games, Chik-In Chik-Out LLC GmbH
System: Miniware Ytoy 2, Musjido Magica, Phonos FunSystem III
Release Date:
JP: N/A
NA: April 1, 2012
EU: N/A

Co-Op Chickens was a twin-stick shooter that was available from 2012 to 2014 as a download only, as a commercial tie-in for Chik-In Chik-Out fried chicken sandwich stores.

Developed by Starscream Team and published by Jangle Games, many of the developers had worked on Epic Combat and War of the Whirls before taking the contract from Chik-In Chik-Out to make the game. Given carte blanche, they came up with a mechanically satisfying game with online and couch co-op, an RPG-lite progression system, and procedural weapon generation. The result was an instant hit, with over 10 million downloads in the first month of availability alone, major positive review coverage from industry press, and a prominent position in several e-sports tournaments.

The game was pulled from distribution after Chik-In Chik-Out revoked its license. Officially, the given reason was that Cathy Truscott, widow of founder J. Samuel Truscott, objected to the level of gun violence in Co-Op Chickens, calling it “un-Christian.” Given J. Samual Truscott’s close ties to senior NRA figures in life, and his service as honorary vice-president of the organization from 1998-2002, many suspected that Cathy Truscott pulled the license in response to a June 2014 “Pride Month Update” that had included a rainbow chicken and rainbow blaster weapon.

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We’re the baristas, we call the shots
Make your java cold and make your java hot
Vanilla syrup, oat milk, espresso jolt and more
For everyone who darkens our café door
Sugar-free sweetener, dairy-free milk
We prepare it all for you and your ilk
Just send it back if we make it wrong
We’ll make it right while singing a song
We’re the baristas and we call the shots
Some like it cold, and some like it hot

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Title: Firefighter’s Proof II: Ring of Blaze/Blaze Squad II: Ring of Fire
Developer: Zukaya Development Team No. 3
Publisher: Zukaya Games (JP), Zukaya Games USA (NA), Clairesin (EU)
System: Phonos FunSystem
Release Date:
JP: September 2, 2000
NA: March 31, 2001
EU: January 12, 2002

Hayao Nakamura’s contract with Zukaya to produce a tactical role-playing RPG to rival the Ice Sigil series he had once worked on was not the smash success either had hoped for. While Nakamura’s pacifist tactical game had sold reasonably well, it had not been a monster hit, and Zukaya was keen to follow it up with something more traditional. Nakamura refused, insisting that he needed to stick to his original vision. Eventually, the two worked out a compromise that would see Firefighter’s Proof II: Ring of Blaze (Blaze Squad II: Ring of Fire in the USA and PAL) released two years later.

Zukaya was able to convince Nakamura that evil spirits and yokai were not a violation of his pacifism, so long as they were otherworldly demons and not the restless spirits of the deceased. As such, Firefighter’s Proof II retconned the events of the first game as the machinations of the Fire Count, a malevolent being from a dormant volcano that wished to reduce the world to ash. In addition to the different types of fire from the first game, a variety of fiery demons were introduced as well, requiring new weapons and strategies to defeat.

The new game toned down many of the sim management features of the first in favor of more focus on a smaller group of core characters, most of them veterans of the firehouse from the first game transferred and promoted to the larger provincial city of Ezodo.

Rather than being penalized for failing to fight fires well, Firefighter’s Proof II rewarded players for fighting well with bonus fire points, or FP. These could, in turn, be used to upgrade the firehouse, various vehicles, and character weapons, while the characters themselves gained traditional experience points.

While Nakamura was disappointed in the game’s plot, which he felt was tropey and insincere, he found its focus on defeating fire demons increasingly troubling as violence and murder adjacent, and insisted on having Zukaya insert several passages in the game and in the manual clarifying that the demons were banished, not destroyed. Despite this, his collaborators at Zukaya took on an increased share of the development and the game was completed on time and under budget. It was a success, doubling the sales of its predecessor and becoming a fan-favorite entry in the series for both Japanese and international fans. For his part Nakamura’s involvement would gradually decline over subsequent sequels until he eventually left Zukaya altogether.

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Title: Firefighter’s Proof/Blaze Squad
Developer: Zukaya Development Team No. 3
Publisher: Zukaya Games (JP), Glowbe (NA), Clairesin (EU)
System: Phonos FunSystem
Release Date:
JP: July 8, 1998
NA: December 2, 1998
EU: April 15, 1999

Hayao Nakamura was the assistant director on the enormously successful Ice Sigil tactical role playing games when he was lured away from Musjido by Zukaya Games, who were looking to launch a tactical game series of their own. Since Ice Sigil IV: Gloaming Dusk, the most recent game in the series at that point, had sold over two million copies in Japan alone, Zukaya hoped that Nakamura could do the same for them, given that the game’s ostensible director, Tsuyoshi Nakano, was widely understood to be a figurehead.

Nakamura agreed to join Zukaya and to produce a tactical role-playing game for them, but on condition that he have complete control over its story, setting, and tone. With dollar signs in their eyes, Zukaya agreed, and gave Nakamura access to Zukaya Development Team No. 3. It was only then that Nakamura revealed that he intended to make a non-violent game with no combat, as he had become immersed in Mahayana Buddhism and a dedicated pacifist during the torturous and stressful development of Ice Sigil IV.

Nakamura agonized over how to create a tactical role-playing game with combat but no violence until he witnessed a small car fire outside his apartment in the Osaka suburbs. Watching firefighters battle the blaze, attacking with hoses only to be driven back by fresh gouts of flame, was a lightbulb moment for Nakamura. Firefighting had all the excitement of combat, but the enemy was fire itself, which was not alive and could be fought and killed indiscriminately.

The result of this was Firefighter’s Proof, released in the United States as Blaze Squad, developed by Zukaya DT3. Players took control of the Onbaru-Mura Volunteer Fire Department, made up of men and women from the local village, as they attempted to control a variety of blazes, ranging from small fires around town to a gigantic forest fire that served as the final boss of the campaign. By deploying members of the firefighting team cleverly, protecting water and pumps, and carefully dousing weaker blazes before stronger ones, players were able to outmaneuver the fire on a tactical level.

Firefighter’s Proof had an additional simulation layer, in which the town of Onbaru-Mura was made up of a variety of buildings that could be damaged by fire. While damaged or destroyed buildings could be rebuilt, this would divert time and resources away from the main firefighting efforts and could be catastrophic to certain tactical abilities. For instance, if the city waterworks were damaged, water pressure would fall, reducing the effectiveness of hoses. Damage to the firehouse itself would reduce the effectiveness of pump and ladder trucks, while characters whose houses were damaged suffered debuffs.

While the different types of fire were functionally identical to goblins and bandits in terms of their ability to inflict damage and status effects, and the hoses and fire axes of the heroes were swords and bows in all but name, the game was still seen as a major and surprising innovation at the time.

Ultimately, Nakamura’s gambit was only a partial success for Zukaya. Firefighter’s Proof was a critical hit but only a modest success at retail, and its USA and PAL release (via Glowbe in the USA and Clairesin in PAL territories) were niche cult hits at best. Ironically, Musjido found a much abler director for Ice Sigil V: City of Sand in Nakamura’s former assistant, art director Takahashi Ito; the fifth Ice Sigil game went on to outsell Firefighter’s Proof by three to one.

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I was assaulted the other day
By the strange strong scent of bandages
That antiseptic odor, malingering around
Medicine cabinets and hospitals
But it was outside, on a clear day
No bandages in sight, no nearby pharmacy
Perhaps the scent of a wounded world
About to be swaddled and balmed
Or perhaps the air of a bandage
Offered apologetically, meagerly
When only a blood transfusion would do

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Written with a finger on the back of the car, etched into the grime, was the phrase “WISH ME.” They had clearly meant “WASH ME,” but the strength of their index finger had clearly failed against the stubborn dirt where the right leg of the “A” was concerned.

But he took the admonition at its word, and spent the remainder of that red light wishing upon the tailgate of that dirty old car, as if it were a magic lamp to be rubbed with a ready automotive djinn standing by. There were wishes for health, for wealth, for prosperity, for peace. Some people who were in dire straits were granted a wish, as were some whose names he didn’t even know—like the mentally ill man endlessly hiking the road in front of McDonald’s, quietly raving to himself.

There was no thought to the wishes being granted. Indeed, many contradicted others. The thought was, and remained, that the act of wishing itself was an act of goodwill and hope, even in the face of impossibility.

Wishing would not make it so. But it was a start.

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The race couldn’t begin until Zeke and Chip got there in the old Lincoln Town Car that Zeke’s grandpa let him drive. It was an old fart’s car, no mistaking that, and the rear suspension sagged like a dirty sofa, but before Grandpa Zeke had sunk into the warm wet embrace of dementia, he’d swapped in a 250 horsepower V8 from a wrecked Police Interceptor. It handled like a La-Z-Boy, but when pedal went to metal that thing could (and did) outrun the cops.

Cooper and Jesse were betting, though, that they could beat it in the Chevy Impala that Cooper’s uncle had left behind when he’d gone to jail after exploding an abandoned house with his chemistry set. Uncle Deke had souped the Impala up with a V8 from a wreck, giving it–on paper at least–an advantage, since the Lincoln was heavier. Each of them had put up a hundred bucks on the results of the race.

But that meant waiting in the turn lane on Washington Ave, which served as an impromptu starting line for all street racing in town, until Zeke and Chip got their act together and showed up. Cooper put his hazards on and waved other cars around him as if he had stalled out, hoping that the last few cars would clear away before the Lincoln rumbled up. The other vehicles obliged…at least before a city cop pulled up going the other way, riding high in his Explorer.

“You boys need assistance?” the cop said, looking down from his SUV window. “If you’re able to move this thing, you need to get it out of the flow of traffic.”

Cooper looked at Jesse, then back at the cop. “Uh, no sir,” he said. “Just got it to start back up. Low on gas, you know?”

“Glad to hear it,” said the cop. “On your way, then.”

Cooper gave his co-pilot a look: text them and tell them we need to move the race. Jesse obligingly started tapping on his phone.

“You boys hear me?” the cop snapped. Cars had begun building up behind him, as well as the Impala, as folks decided not to risk a ticket or a bodycam malfunction.

“Y-yes sir,” Cooper said. “Just texting my mother. My friend is, you know. Don’t text and drive, right?”

“He’s not driving. Get moving, or I’ll ticket you for impeding and obstructing.”

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It rained all day today
The snap-pop of amateur fireworks
Replaced by rolling thunder
Any lit fuse, a damp squib
Any pyrotechnics, gunpowdery mush
Is it unpatriotic to suggest
Am I a downer for thinking
Would it make me a bad person to feel
Joy?
Fewer limbs will be blown off
Emergency rooms breathing a relieved sigh
Joined by those they might bankrupt
Dogs will not spend the night cowering
Under assault from forces they can’t grasp
Fewer fires to be started
Less siding melted
No hungry sparks drifting downward
Those are all well and good
But I think the most joy comes from
The idea that with the year we have had
The decade we have had as a country
We don’t deserve celebrations
Perhaps a celebration of wild dangers
Explosive death from nowhere
Beggaring injuries
Reckless abandon
Is what we deserve
Perhaps my joy is such
That with it all rain-drowned
We avoid the celebration we earned

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Mr. Bonesteel had been very clear in his team briefing that morning at 7am: “Five-star ratings are where it’s at, people. It’s how Metromart corporate measures out success. So when you’re out there, you are earning five-star reviews at the self-checkout. I’m setting a quota, and you all need to meet it. Our top stars will earn some great prizes, but if you fall behind, you’ll be written up.”

Tanisha stood looking over her domain, a bank of 16 self-checkout machines, and wondered how she was going to make it work. At first, people were just ignoring the star rating, since the Metromart software automatically dismissed it after five seconds. She was able to catch a few of them to leave five-star reviews herself, before Barbara warned her while on a store returns run–Demetrius had been caught doing the same by Bonesteel and been written up. The ratings had to come from customers, and they had to be five stars.

“Why even have five stars if we’re only using one of them?” Tanisha said. “Why not thumbs up thumbs down?”

Barbara shrugged. “They don’t pay me enough to get written up for asking. Good luck, kiddo.”

By lunchtime, Tanisha had resorted to approaching people as they were checking out and asking them to leave five star reviews. There wasn’t much else for her to do, after all, since it was impossible to keep an eye on 16 machines at once for someone sticky-fingering an extra item or two, and she figured Bonesteel would probably approve of her moving about and interacting with customers, just as he would probably not bother to stop and listen to the substance of their conversation.

Most folks were understanding, giving a “sure” or a curt nod and obligingly leaving ratings. A few were very supporting; one customer mentioned working at Metromart in another life and how often people had been written up for too many returns in their department. Tanisha could only smile nervously, the memory of Bobby White in Electronics being written up for too many returns (in between write-up for unsolicited discussion Transformers fanfics with unwilling customers) still fresh.

But as always a few were dicks about it.

“Well now, missy, why should I leave you five stars?” one old white guy said. “Convince me.”

“Our manager says we need them for corporate,” Tanisha replied.

“Well, now that’s your problem,” the man said. “My problem is why I should give you a rating you haven’t earned. I checked myself out, with no help, so that’s five stars for me if anybody’s counting. You did nothing, which here I come from is zero stars.”

“I asked nicely,” Tanisha said with a forced smile. “People are always complaining that no one asks nicely anymore.”

“Fair point, fair point,” the old man said. “Tell you what, we’ll met in the middle.” He selected three stars and collected his groceries before Tanisha could protest.

As he moved away, she saw the manager approaching on his rounds, the screen to her left lit up with a wholly unacceptable number of stars for all to see.

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Parked along a blind curve, the dump truck completely prevented anyone from passing without taking their lives into their hands against onrushing traffic. Ordinarily there’d be a flagman or two, but in this case it was just three guys sawing limbs and filling the bed with fresh-fallen, fresh-cut wood.

“Hey, do you mind letting me know if there’s anyone coming?” Juan said, rolling down the window of his work truck.

“We’re on break,” the cutting crew called back.

“C’mon, this is the only way to get to Federal Drive,” Juan said. “Will you just tell me if the way is clear?”

“Sorry, can’t,” was the reply. “Somebody parked a big dump truck in the road, I can’t see nothin’!”

Juan sighed, muttered a commingled prayer/curse, and floored it. His truck, a dualie, had great torque but poor acceleration, and it lumbered around the curve just n time to elicit an angry honk–but luckily nothing worse–from a motorist passing the other way.

A little later, the cutting crew pulled the dump truck back onto the road to drive the branches up to a dump site above Federal Drive. They soon found themselves stymied by Juan’s dualie, parked so as to impede traffic going both ways, as he filled a pothole with infill and asphalt from his truck bed, as per his city contract.

“Hey! Out of the way.”

“I’m on break,” Juan called up to them. “Some guy from the city parked a dualie across the road, can you believe that?”

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