It was the Jungles of Peru and I was cowering beneath a rocky cleft. The rain literally pelted down and formed a sort of fog, through which I could make out the dark disfigured forms of the foul Ataryians that had been tracking me from the Cathedral City of Ely, England, some six months earlier.

During my time back home in England I had learnt of a mysterious version of VR Stalker, a version that contain polygon based clouds. Intrigued and with a desire to learn more, I had to travel to the Americas. To this end, I had stowed away on HMS Immercenary docking in Southampton bound for Brazil, where I had been told that a man called Enio had within his possession this rare copy of VR Stalker – labelled “super updated ‘good’ version” apparently – but as events turned, our meeting was never to be.

The Ataryans had been following my every step since I left 3DO Manor in Cambridgeshire, and, having seen me sneak onboard the Immercenary weeks later, they launched their own insidious craft – the Rayman.

They had decided to tail me half way across the Atlantic, where upon they sought to sink the HMS Immercenary. And they succeeded! They torpedoed the Immercenary with E.T. cartridges packed with sand – and in no time she sank. If it hadn’t been for my inflatable Gex, my keen senses and my love of sushi, I would have perished on the open sea but three months later I paddled ashore in Venezuela. Wet, sun burnt and a longing for a quick round of Twinkle Nights.

But the Ataryans don’t give in easily. As I ran up the beach and into the forests as they persued me, I could hear them chanting to their heathen god, the Minter.

“O-O-O-O we love 2600s”
“O-O-O-O we love 7800s”
“O-O-O-O the significance of 1024”
“O-O-O-O we pray unto thee god of the Jaguar to crush the evil 3DO kid and all he stands for.”

…Disturbing – in more ways than one I'm sure you will agree.

So – for weeks I was hunted through the Jungles of Venezuela, where, the locals, loyal fans of the 3DO despite it never being released there, sheltered me some nights, as the blood-eyed Ataryans scoured the nights and the dense plains baying for my blood.

As I left behind the warm hearts and homes of the beautiful Venezuelian people, I fled on to the valleys and gorges of Colombia where I ran never ending day and night, until finally the dense Peruvian rain forests.

Yet the run had taken its toll on me, and I was forced to hide like a dog from the hounding Ataryians.

And now we've caught up. Here, against the rocks, I cowered in the pelting rain, dirty, saddened, filling with despair. I was short on NVRAM, CDs and luck. I was tired and hungry and lost, as the evil Ataryans stalked ever closer.

Closer and closer they came, as I shrunk into the surrounding rocks, trembling and holding my breath. It was too late. They had seen me. I could see the wild look in their eyes, the foul smell of meths on their breath, they bared their teeth and uttered the words… “Now you die 3DO Kid”. You could see their hatred for me. Their venom as they drew back their sharpened Jaguar joy-pad ready to send me to meet Trip. It was over.

I closed my eyes and prayed for a swift end.

BANG! At the last moment a shot rang out. It was the unmistakable ring of Enfield rifle #1, Mark III – It could only mean one thing, it was an Englishman. Thank god. BANG! Another Ataryian dropped. BANG! And then another.

As the Ataryans breathed their last my savior and I settled down for a nice cup of tea. Sadly it was afternoon, and he didn’t have Earl Grey Tea so we had to settle for Assam Tea but despite my disappointment, I decided we should chat for a while. Eventually, having discussed the weather, the state of the BBC and the Princes’ of the realm, the conversation naturally turned to 3DO.

To my surprise he was the great-great-great Grandson of Sir Arthur Canon Doyle and had been advisor to a 3DO game about Sherlock Holmes. It was, he regretted to say, a very mediocre 2D affair, which involved watching a quite dull plot and solving a very uninspiring murder. It was, he ashamedly said, all-in-all a games console generation too late. “Never mind” I said and with that we started our walk home. Back to England. Back to civilsation.