The Amiga 500+ (the plus standing for PLUS ONE MEGABITE!), my solid companion throughout my teenage years, now sits under the spare bed in my mother’s house. There it will have to stay until I live somewhere big enough to accommodate it.
Many a happy hour was spent waiting for floppy disks to load (each game having a particular floppy disk-drive ‘click and whir’ rhythm). We bought a hard drive at some point, which made playing 12-15 disk epics like Monkey Island or Beneth a Steel Sky even more enjoyable and bearable.
Nowadays, only joy-stick games can be played on the Amiga when I occasionally fire it up, because the mouse is near useless. I was always a platform and ‘point-and-click’ RPG fan, forever USING the PAPER with the SPIT RUNNING DOWN THE WALL, or TALKING to WALLY and PICKING UP his MONOCLE. (A woodchuck can chuck no amount of wood, since a woodchuck can’t chuck wood, obviously. Though if a woodchuck could chuck wood, should a woodchuck chuck wood?)
I once had a piece of ‘What I did in my holidays’ work corrected by a teacher, who thought that James Pond: Robocod was a spelling mistake.