And I thought Chester Cheetah: Too Cool To Fool was playing with fire. That game stunk worse than the inside of an actual bag of Cheetos. But someone... SOMEONE... SOMEWHERE... had the audacity to take this steaming brown cheese puff and use it as a springboard for their unlicensed knockoff product. The "developer" (and I use the term loosely, considering the original developers barely qualified) responsibly removed the snack-attacked cheetah and replaced him with a slightly less lecherous licensed character that they didn't really license: Bananas in Pajamas.
Bananas in Pajamas was a popular show that hit its peak in the mid-1990s. It starred — you guessed it — a pair of anthropomorphized bananas that happen to frequently wear pajamas. They also had a tendency to chat it up with the local fauna and a group of teddy bears. In an odd twist, apparently these banana guys are also lifeguards of some sort. Imagine yourself drowning (and I apologize), only to see hope as a giant yellow peel with a cheesy grin comes sailing your way. I believe my nightmares will begin now.
Someone decided that a game starring these bananas would be a good thing. Oh, but not just ANY developer was up to the task! It took an underground Peruvian operation to make this happen. Twin Eagles Group, known for their weird Spanish "futbol" games and their sprite hacks to put Sonic the Hedgehog into places where he doesn't belong (and, apparently, they also made a game called "Sextris", which seems unnecessary), has taken it upon themselves to tackle another of life's mysteries: the clothed banana.
But they didn't just throw banana sprites in and call it a day. Oh no, that would've been too easy. They took the limited level design in Chester Cheetah and placed it on a shelf, pretending it was a decorative urn and not... actually a necessity. The first stage is set along a river, and its platforms are hard to stand on with accuracy. As well, things come flying at you while you're trying not to plop into the brink below. You probably wouldn't get past this point because the platform detection is so awful, Microsoft Japan wouldn't approve this for their console. But it doesn't get better.
The second stage starts with your banana literally lighting himself on fire in a dark cave to see his surroundings. Then the flame goes out and you're still in the dark, making the actions of that pyromaniac fruit seem moot and for naught. You only get a circle of space around you that you can actually see, leaving an impressive number of bats to swoop down and try to take your neck off. If you had a neck, that is. And then there are the ropes. Sweet merciful Jerseys, I couldn't possibly imagine anything climbing a rope any slower than a banana. Maybe it's because he's doing it with ONE HAND like he's showing off for an alluring kumquat or something. I don't know; I can't analyze the boastfulness of a breakfast. Also, the bananas ride in a mine cart through a tunnel that never wants to end.
Bananas don't grow underground, you.
The third and final stage involves your banana hopping through a jungle and then flying around on a butterfly. Yes, Twin Eagles Group was generous enough to subscribe to the old adage, "Less is more." Unless you're making a bootleg Chester Cheetah game starring Bananas in Pajamas, in which case less is less, more is less, and everything in between is still less, and the math escapes me. This flying section is painful, mostly because you have no way of defending yourself other than by moving. Moving is NOT defense! I wish that butterfly could shoot projectiles.
I forgot to mention that each level ends with a showdown with some generic cartoon ex-Marine Corps sargeant down on his luck in search of world domination... with his beagle. After taking him down, you get one of Chester Cheetah's motorcycle parts, because that's what our goal is: to help a cheetah out that doesn't want to appear in the game. Except that the end, where they clearly forgot to edit out the GIANT PICTURE OF CHESTER CHEETAH ON A MOTORCYCLE.
There are no words for this. I'd rather eat an entire dog bone than play this again. I'd rather legally change my name to Dog Bone than play this again. I'd rather be magically transformed into a dog bone than play this again. Just look at these horrific screenshots of my trip through terror. Yes, I'm being melodramatic. Or not melodramatic enough.