Stages of Grief For Losing a Save File

Whew. Finally some free time. But more specifically, Chrono Trigger time. Let's do this. Let's finally take down Lavos and restor.......uh. Hmmm. That's weird.

What's going on with the menu screen? The save file menu... Where's my name? Or my brother's? Or (the game's random previous owner) Dan's? ...Well, it couldn't have just disappeared. Save files don't just disappear - it's not like they're "my dad" or something. Maybe it's just a little dirty! Nothing that can be fixed with a little ol' fashioned mouth-to-game resuscitation!

Alright now it should be good. Ok, so far so good, that gold pendulum thing is rocking back and forth and the start screen looks normal and now I'll just press start reeeal delicately this time and -



Stages of Grief For Losing a Save File



Ok, seriously? Still no save files?! THE FUCK?! It's not like I did anything to the game since I last played it...2 weeks ago.

Oh and also it's not like the last time I played I marathoned for five FREAKIN' hours - battling and leveling up and pouring my heart and soul into this game or anything! So that's great - I guess that was all for nothing?! Fuck this. I'm turning this thing off. I can't even look at it. I gotta do something else.

Battleship? No, can't play that Guess I could read? But I mean that's just Chrono Trigger without getting to kill things. Ugggghh I can't believe you, Super Nintendo. You betrayed me.

Well, you know what? I don't have to take that from you. Yeah, that's right. Hope you like that spot on my IKEA BESTA. Cause you're gonna be there, all alone, with nobody playing you for quite some time. You too, Chrono Trigger. Get comfy wedged in that Super Nintendo, you ungrateful little piece of plastic. I WISH YOU COULD FEEL PAIN SO I COULD MAKE YOU SUFFER AS WELL.



Stages of Grief For Losing a Save File

Man, looking at that lonely console up there...maybe it's not the game's fault. I mean, there's probably something I could've done. I did blow on the cartridge...but maybe it was too little too late. Hey, wait a second! My cousin once told me if you put alcohol on a Q-Tip and gently dab the inside...that that works? I just could really go for some 16-bit pre- and post-apocalyptic Chrono Trigger action right now. I'll give it a shot. Hopefully vodka works.

ALRIGHT NOPE NOPE VODKA DOESN'T WORK. Now it's making scary noises and glitching the rainbow. Oh god. Oh god, no. What have I done?!

...It's time for the last resort. There's some 1-800 Nintendo maintenance hotline on the back of the Super Nintendo...they have to be able to fix this. It's their job! Or, it was. I'm sure they kept all those people employed for 20 additional years just for cases like this.



Stages of Grief For Losing a Save File

I....I give up. When I turn on the game now, I don't even make it past the gold pendulum thing. All that's left of Chrono Trigger is a sputtering, disoriented slew of pixels. I don't feel like I have the energy that I used to. Afternoons once spent pursuing side quests and exploring maps have contorted to gelatinous strolls through my Netflix queue. Distant memories of the jet bike race in Lab 32, or soda drinking at the Millennium Fair cloud my head while I stand motionless in another steaming 45-minute shower. I don't enjoy playing any of my retro video games anymore; I don't know why. Life feels fruitless. I worry that anything I do, any task I strive towards, might be completely gone tomorrow, with no traces of it ever having been there. I worry I will soon become a glitch of my former self. Why must I endure this harsh sting of betrayal? This deep pain in my heart? Is there no way to live on with these classics without suffering?



Stages of Grief For Losing a Save File

Thank you, Save've saved me.