You've spent all year buying Nintendo's stuff, and it's time to be rewarded for your frank, selfless consumerism! You've spent hours straining your eyes and earnestly entering tiny alpha-numeric codes into their website, and as appreciation for this honorable act, you deserve to be knighted! Imagine your surprise when this handsome package arrives in the mail:
That's right, it's this year's exclusive platinum prize for members of Club Nintendo Japan. Devout Nintendonians who have entered 400 points worth of Nintendo products (with games ranging from 20 to 50 points each, depending on retail price) were this year rewarded with a special set of twenty-five 25th anniversary Mario buttons. But these aren't just any buttons! The packaging itself is almost as entertaining as adorning yourself with a pixelated image of Peach.
Each row of buttons is in fact its own box, with the set of six boxes being kept together in a transparent plastic sleeve. On one side, you can see a giant (small) Mario, and on the other you can see the buttons themselves, against a mosaic of the numbers 2 and 5, to represent firstly the more strenuous of the bathroom actions, and secondly a way to show respect to your awesome bros, mostly up high, and sometimes down low (Donkey Kong Game & Watch not included, used for size comparison and reader envy only).
When you slide each of the boxes out of the sleeve, there's another treat in store: the tops and bottoms of them are printed with a distinctly throwbackian design: the original boxart for the Famicom version of Super Mario Bros., all the way back from 1985. Note the bizarre, non-canonical appearance of Bowser, for kicks!
On the other side you can also see the printed, Japanese names for each button, with the special, shiny 25th anniversary button occupying the last space in the bottom row.
Of particular, horrifying note, are KILLER, who we know less-threateningly as Bullet Bill here in the English-speaking world, PUKUPUKU, who is I suppose appropriately translated as Cheep Cheep, and the terrifying MET, who haunts my dreams.
The pins themselves are shiny and attractive, with appropriate fasteners. To put it frankly, they are capable of being buttoned onto things which accommodate buttons. But like many excellent gaming items are burdened with a heavy curse: Too Good To Use. In this box they shall remain, lookin' cool, takin' up space, until such a juncture when I lose all mindfulness about my accumulated gaming crap, and then I will affix them to strangers, pinning them deep into the soft flesh of their flabby arms.
Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another ahahaha oh wait it's me.
That's right, it's this year's exclusive platinum prize for members of Club Nintendo Japan. Devout Nintendonians who have entered 400 points worth of Nintendo products (with games ranging from 20 to 50 points each, depending on retail price) were this year rewarded with a special set of twenty-five 25th anniversary Mario buttons. But these aren't just any buttons! The packaging itself is almost as entertaining as adorning yourself with a pixelated image of Peach.
Each row of buttons is in fact its own box, with the set of six boxes being kept together in a transparent plastic sleeve. On one side, you can see a giant (small) Mario, and on the other you can see the buttons themselves, against a mosaic of the numbers 2 and 5, to represent firstly the more strenuous of the bathroom actions, and secondly a way to show respect to your awesome bros, mostly up high, and sometimes down low (Donkey Kong Game & Watch not included, used for size comparison and reader envy only).
When you slide each of the boxes out of the sleeve, there's another treat in store: the tops and bottoms of them are printed with a distinctly throwbackian design: the original boxart for the Famicom version of Super Mario Bros., all the way back from 1985. Note the bizarre, non-canonical appearance of Bowser, for kicks!
On the other side you can also see the printed, Japanese names for each button, with the special, shiny 25th anniversary button occupying the last space in the bottom row.
Of particular, horrifying note, are KILLER, who we know less-threateningly as Bullet Bill here in the English-speaking world, PUKUPUKU, who is I suppose appropriately translated as Cheep Cheep, and the terrifying MET, who haunts my dreams.
The pins themselves are shiny and attractive, with appropriate fasteners. To put it frankly, they are capable of being buttoned onto things which accommodate buttons. But like many excellent gaming items are burdened with a heavy curse: Too Good To Use. In this box they shall remain, lookin' cool, takin' up space, until such a juncture when I lose all mindfulness about my accumulated gaming crap, and then I will affix them to strangers, pinning them deep into the soft flesh of their flabby arms.
Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another ahahaha oh wait it's me.