Here you go: an oral history of my possibly-favourite-game-ever and definitely-most-written-about platformer Spelunky that tries to explain, through fictional interviews with the characters, everything you need to know about the game

Spelunker #1 (professional adventurer): Putting the faded photo in my pocket, I squeezed the whip at my side, and thought of her one last time. That’s all it took to get me down here, beneath the surface of the world. Of course, it’s different for everyone. Now, shh. That statue’s a trap. You’ve got to time this just perfect–erkkk

Spelunker #23: I’ve never seen another spelunker. No bodies, even. Not a soul. It’s almost as if – nah, that’d be impossible – as if there’re an infinite number of caverns down here. But damn me if those caverns ain’t full of good-lookin’ dames.

Marion (damsel in distress): Just because this dress shows off my curves, doesn’t mean I’m not up on my feminism. And frankly, the gender politics are appalling. These fellas’ll use you as a shield as soon as rescue you. And then they expect a kiss? Don’t even get me started on the Parlours.

Rudy (proprietor, Rudy’s Kissing Parlour): Look; I provide a service. A man like that, big adventures on his mind, sometimes he just needs a kiss, eh?

Pancho (proprietor, Pancho’s Speciality Shop): It’s a dangerous business. But a man like me, knows how to specialise – capes, jetpacks, teleporters – there’s big money in it.

Spelunker #72 (ex-adventurer, spending his retirement fused irrevocably into the scenery): …the time I got a teleporter? Ah, I remember it fondly. Course, I probably should’ve looked where I was going a little better.

Ivan the Shopkeeper (proprietor, Ivan’s Armoury): One of the buggers shot me! It’s just not cricket; a man stocks a handy range of shotguns, down in the dark places, he shouldn’t have to expect this yobbery.

Spelunker #99: By means we needn’t go into, I acquired a shotgun. Deep in the belly of the beast with a handful of boomstick. I was invincible. Those blasted spiders melted into red mist before me. Then some old bearded bloke with a grudge – and worse, a shotgun of his own – was waiting for me by the exit. The rest was bloody history.

Jethro (professional tunnel man): Here I am, no-one to talk to, shovelling dirt. They’re off having adventures with a girl over one shoulder. They’re all addicts, if you ask me. Get what’s coming to ’em.

Spelunker #118: They’ll tell you it’s all about greed. Don’t listen. The gold, jewels, that little number that ticks up somewhere in your head, that’s just window dressing. Why do so many of us do it? It’s about seeing new places. And they’re always new. People talk about travelling, broadening your horizons. Finding yourself? Try finding a bloody huge mutant psychic brain.

Spelunker #199: This was it: just a giant stone head between me and the big time. I dispatched it quick enough, right into the lava. A door opened. Glory! Except… I forgot to leave a way out. Sigh. I’ll jump into the lava meself, then.

Olmac (giant stone head): Ummmg.

Spelunker #199: The afterlife turned out to be a lot of numbers carved into a rockface. And I wasn’t even the highest score.

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