Play Comics

Digivolve your PlayStation controllers and prepare to shuffle your way through the most wonderfully confused identity crisis in gaming history, because this week on Play Comics we’re tapping into the pixelated card-battling chaos that is Digimon Digital Card Battle for the PS1! Released in 2001 when every entertainment franchise on Earth was racing to cash in on the trading card game gold rush sparked by Pokémon and Yu-Gi-Oh, Bandai decided their digital monsters deserved a piece of that sweet, sweet card-slinging action. The twist? They didn’t just adapt the existing Digimon trading card game – oh no, that would be far too simple. Instead, they created an entirely NEW card game exclusively for this PS1 title, because apparently someone at BEC thought “You know what kids collecting physical cards really need? A completely different set of rules that only exists in digital form!”

What emerged was a gloriously polygonal fever dream where Veemon, Hawkmon, and Armadillomon became your partners in a card-battling odyssey through Battle Arenas, all while you sacrifice Digimon from your hand like some kind of digital monster cult leader gathering “DP” (Digivolve Points, not whatever your brain just went to) to evolve your creatures into increasingly ridiculous forms. It’s rock-paper-scissors meets card game mechanics meets “please stop making me grind the same battles 300 times to unlock the secret final boss.”

Joining us for this digivolved discussion is the phenomenally talented Sahoni from Bramble Wolf Games! When they’re not busy crafting games that actually mean something or channeling their Queer and Indigenous (ᏣᎳᎩᏱ ᏕᏣᏓᏂᎸᎩ) storytelling magic into unforgettable tabletop experiences, Sahoni brings their narrative expertise to help us understand how this PS1 oddity somehow convinced an entire generation that carrying around 30 digital cards was infinitely more practical than the hundreds of physical ones weighing down their backpacks.

So crack open that PS1 jewel case, practice your best “I’m going to pretend I understand these Support Card effects” face, and prepare for an episode more entertaining than watching the same Digimon battle animation for the 47th time. We’ll explore whether this card-game-that-never-was actually honored the spirit of the Digimon franchise, or if it just left us wondering why we couldn’t trade our digital cards with friends like we could in literally every other TCG game of the era!

Grab your duel disk and prepare for the ultimate test of patience, because this week on Play Comics we’re shuffling into the notoriously punishing world of Yu-Gi-Oh! Reshef of Destruction for Game Boy Advance! This 2003 Konami creation took the beloved manga and anime franchise and somehow managed to turn it into a gaming experience more brutal than being sent to the Shadow Realm by a pack of rare holographic cards.

Based on the wildly popular Yu-Gi-Oh series that taught an entire generation that the real power of friendship is having really expensive cards, Reshef of Destruction promised an epic adventure featuring Yugi, Joey, and the gang facing off against an ancient evil. What it delivered was a grinding experience so merciless that even seasoned duelists found themselves questioning their life choices faster than you can say “Exodia, obliterate!”

Joining us for this masochistic journey through the world of impossibly difficult AI opponents and deck-building restrictions is the absolutely delightful Max Golden from The Pop Quiz Podcast. When he’s not busy creating the most creative trivia games known to humanity or making movie nights infinitely more entertaining, Max brings his pop culture expertise to help us understand how this handheld nightmare somehow spawned from one of the most beloved franchises in entertainment history.

So dust off that Game Boy Advance, practice your most dramatic card-playing poses, and prepare for an episode that’s guaranteed to be more satisfying than finally beating that one opponent who’s been destroying your carefully crafted deck for the past three hours. We’ll explore whether this digital duel was faithful to its source material, or if it just left us feeling like we’d been trapped in our own personal tournament from Hell.

Gather around power-level enthusiasts and tournament fighters, because this week on Play Comics we’re charging up our ki and diving headfirst into the legendary slugfest that is Dragon Ball Z: Budokai for PS2 and GameCube. That’s right, we’re looking at the 2002 fighting game that asked the burning question “What if we took the first three arcs of Dragon Ball Z and squeezed them into a button-mashing experience that makes even the most patient Z-Fighter want to go Super Saiyan with frustration?”

Developed by Dimps and published by Infogrames (back when they still existed and weren’t just a nostalgic memory floating in gaming’s hyperbolic time chamber), this cel-shaded beatdown promised to let players experience everything from Raditz’s surprise family reunion to Cell’s perfectionist power trip. What it delivered was a fighting system so basic that even Yamcha could probably figure it out, paired with enough beam struggles to make your thumbs file for workers’ compensation.

Joining us for this Saiyan-sized discussion is the one and only Doc Issues from Capes on the Couch, because when you need someone to analyze the psychological implications of repeatedly punching people until they explode into light particles you call a professional. Together we’ll explore how this game managed to compress roughly 100 episodes of screaming, power-ups, and “next time on Dragon Ball Z” frustrating end caps into a tournament format that somehow made sense.

So grab your orange gi, practice your best Kamehameha stance, and prepare for an episode that’s over 9000 times more entertaining than waiting five episodes for Goku to finish charging his spirit bomb. Will this manga-to-game adaptation achieve its final form? Or will it get sent to Other World faster than you can say “Kakarot”? Time to find out if this Z-Fighter deserves a senzu bean or a one-way ticket to Snake Way!