“Do you ever wish we could be three-d?”

Player 1 says it as she returns the ball in their current match, beeped out in an assembly language and low-bit accent that even Pac-Man nowadays sometimes struggles to decipher, ever since his switch to three dimensions. A younger Player 2 may have been caught unawares by the question and allowed the ball to slip past her; in the present, however, she catches it with ease and bounces it back.

“No. Where is this coming from?” Player 2 asks.

The ball lets out bweeps as it is lazily passed back and forth in a casual game—a job turned pastime turned means of affection.

Static sounds out from Player 1, a burst into a slow drag. “Oh, it’s all these newcomers who’ve got me thinking...” She stills, and the ball flies past her. The score flickers above the two as zero-to-one. “It’s gotten so much more complicated since we retired. I don’t know why Master Hand asked us to make an appearance.”

Player 2 floats closer to her counterpart. “Do you not wanna be here?”

“No, no. I’m having a fun time.” Player 1 rises and lowers, clearly lost in her thoughts. “I just feel behind the times. I never would have imagined Duck Hunt making the jump to three-d before, and now I’m wondering if Mr. Game & Watch will do it one day.”

A rising series of beeps leave Player 2. “You and I both know our bits will rot before that happens. ...Do you want to be three-d?”

“...Not really, no.” That static leaves Player 1 again. “I guess I just worry that I’ve grown boring.”

At that, Player 2 lets out a click. She cannot deny that kind of insecurity in her own self—she joined the industry in its infancy, and now it is so alien and incomprehensible to her. The standards are so higher, so stricter, and she knows that she is below them.

She warbles out a dissatisfied tone. “All these hi-defs owe us. Without us, they wouldn’t even be here. That’s why Master Hand brought us here: we’re important. Besides... you haven’t grown boring to me.”

Suddenly, she re-summons the ball and throws it at a much higher speed than before to Player 1, who only barely manages to jolt into place in time to bounce it back. Back and forth the ball goes, ricocheting at the absurd velocity before it grazes over the top of Player 2. The score updates to one-to-one.

Player 2 beeps flatly. “Eh, you got lucky.”

Player 1 just trills out, all mirthful and warm. “Oh, I know I did.”