Technically, this game should not exist. Not that it shouldn't have been made, duh, but I mean that according to the laws of our universe, this game should not exist. As I'm about to prove, every aspect of this game is impossible.
First: The Plot.
E.T.'s job in this game is to save the universe by healing a dozen or so houseplants with his creepy finger. However, his last video game for the 2600 was so overproduced and underwanted that hundreds of thousands of copies became garbage buried in the desert. So if E.T. was really concerned with ecology, the last thing he'd do would be to star in more video games.
Second: The Graphics.
When graphic artists can take a slimy brown tortoise monster made out of wrinkled manure, and somehow manage to make it uglier, that's a little something I like to call impossible.
Third: The Controls.
Trying to tell E.T. which way to hobble is like trying to pilot a hot air balloon and being Christopher Reeve at the same time. Which, if you know anything about hot air balloon safety, would never be allowed.
Finally: The Fun.
The fact that E.T. and fun just appeared on the same page has already torn open several holes in our reality with its impossible dislogic. According to these findings this game cannot be of this dimension.
What really shocked me about the aftermath of this article was that the scientific community refused to recognize me as its mayor.
Originally appeared in issue #171