Mortal Kombat—the very first one, because numerous reboots and unhelpful naming conventions force me to be clear—was famous for two things in my part of the world when I was growing up: The blood and dangly spines, obviously. Being a crummy and very American take on Street Fighter II. It didn’t understand the genius of Capcom’s game, and chose to crudely mask its numerous mechanical weaknesses with copious amounts of eye-catching gore. Even as a kid, I looked down on it. The globs of blood looked ridiculous, and the game underneath was readily embraced by that kind of kid at school, the ones who enjoyed the fatalities a bit too much and would tell everyone who listened some unbelieveable story about how they definitely played as Goro one time and no they weren’t going to tell anyone else how but they really did, honest. So I probably played a bit of it at a friend’s house on their 16-bit console of choice back in the ’90s (maybe even on an Amiga… speaking as a fan of Commodore’s…
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