Picture this: you're twelve years old, clutching a dog-eared copy of GamePro, staring at that glossy two-page spread showing Mario in glorious 64-bit 3D. The magazine's promising something called "Ultra 64" – yeah, that's what they called it back then – and your brain's doing cartwheels trying to…

Cleaning out the spare room last weekend, I found it tucked behind a box of PlayStation memory cards—my Pikachu Nintendo 64, still in its original box, looking as gloriously ridiculous as the day I impulse-bought it from Electronics Boutique. The yellow shell catches light like a toy car,…

My N64 sits on the shelf next to a stack of cartridges that probably cost more than my first car. Well, that's not saying much—my first car was a rusty Escort that made more noise than a Rumble Pak having an existential crisis. But these grey plastic rectangles?…

There's this moment, right? You're standing in Woolworths on launch day, sweaty tenner crumpled in your palm, staring at this weird three-pronged controller that looks like alien technology escaped from Area 51. The N64 cartridge slots are bigger than your head, the console itself is this matte black…