Don’t Look Up The 1995 Build Of Super Mario 64

If you’re anything like me, you love to research. Y’know, look things up, learn new things about your favorite gaming icons. If you’re anything like me, you also love Super Mario 64.

I was up late one night, and I had just finished playing Mario Galaxy. Ah, Nintendo. Growing up I was always a huge fan of Mario. I loved his games, his character, and I really hated sonic. Mario was my hero… and he could never do wrong. I’m what you’d call a bit of a nerd, though I prefer the term geek. I know just about every factoid there is about Nintendo, every hat change, every time Donkey Kong picks up a barrel, but one thing I didn’t know about was a game that I never truly understood: Super Mario 64, for the Nintendo 64. Mario 64 had a development that was… troubled. Many people shifted around the departments to work on this game… of course something would go wrong. In hindsight, knowing what I know, it’s crazy to me how little got out into the public. It all started in 1995. Spaceworld expo, every Nintendo fan’s dream. That build was one of the first times we saw Mario 64, and it should have been the last. See, unlike you, dear reader, I played that build. Found it online at an auction, for a measly 4 cents. This is a warning for any intrepid Nintendo fans: If you ever somehow manage to get your hands on a copy, don’t play that build.

When I first booted up the game, everything started up just how I remembered it so long ago. Ahh, Mario 64, what a game that was. The camera, controlled by Lakitu, centering on Mario as he made his way out of that iconic green pipe, and followed him on his perilous journey through this once-cherished and peaceful kingdom, now torn to bits and pieces by the fierce and merciless Bowser. I always loved Nintendo’s alternative storytelling. The focus was never on Peach, Bowser, or Mario. The focus was on the environment, and that’s where my troubles began. The gameplay was still as I remembered it; long jumps, triple jumps, “yahoo!” and “wahoo!” all around. Goombas were still goombas, and thwomps were still thwomps. That terrifying "EUGH" of the thwomps still haunts my dreams. I smacked down King Bob-Bomb just as easily as I once did at the young, fresh age of 8 years old. However, from the get-go, something seemed… off. That chain chomp was just… slightly off-base. Koopa the Quick wasn’t nearly as fast as I remembered, and he took a slightly different route too. Maybe my memory was failing me, but I SWORE things were different the first time. It wasn’t only just in Bob-Bomb Battlefield, either. Every level felt slightly different, but I still had a great time. Mario is still Mario, I thought to myself, without thinking twice at that. Whomp’s Fortress, Cool Cool Mountain, Jolly Roger Bay, even the secret aquarium. The game was still just as fun as I remembered it being, though maybe nostalgia was catching up to me, as something did feel off. Then... I got to *that* level.

Even as a kid, I never felt comfortable in Wet Dry World. That creepy skybox... The empty level design, not a single toad in sight. That level always unnerved me, and even more so now. Every time I played it, something felt different… platforms in different spots… different enemy behavior… it was as if the game was… learning? Nah, that’s stupid. Mario 64 is over 20 years old, there’s no way it was... alive. So much of that level felt unfinished, like a beta level left in for some odd reason. The level structure is weird, but twice as weird visiting it the fourth time. Eventually, I realized there was something wrong with this level, and gave up trying to get that last star. I thought to myself, “Why not get that star somewhere safe?” Off to Whomp’s Fortress I went, oh how I would come to regret that...

I hopped back into the painting, selected the only star I hadn’t gotten yet: the red coin star. That’s when I realized that there was something wrong with this build. The game called for eight red coins, as it did in the final build. However, I looked high and low, but the eighth red coin could not be found anywhere in the map. I checked in every spot where the red coins were supposed to spawn, but it wasn’t in any of them. Surely this was some kind of mistake, right? Things like this should be expected, this being an early build after all, but then I saw it. Just in that garden where I always fall, there was a door. I didn’t remember there being an interior to Whomp's Fortress… I walked through the door cautiously. Right off the bat, things seemed way off. This level was nothing akin to a normal level, nor did it show conventional signs of being incomplete, as would be expected from a typical beta build; what I saw was much more bizarre. Floors untextured, room unlit, I turned into metal mario as soon as I walked in, but no music cue played… in fact, there seemed to be an eerie lack of sound in that room. That’s when things got really weird. Platforms raising and lowering before my eyes, as if compelled by some unseen thwomp under the level, enemies spawning and despawning before my eyes, coins appearing and disappearing, it was weird. Again the game felt… alive. Almost as if reacting to my thoughts, a strange painting appeared on the wall. It was... a brain? I consider myself an expert on Mario 64, but I have never seen this painting before. I cautiously jumped in, expecting to be transported to a new location, when I heard it, a boo’s familiar laugh, but distorted. It sounded off, as if pitched down and pitched up at the same time. Then my game crashed.

I turned my console on and off again, as was frequently cited in many a Nintendo manual, and reloaded my save. Everything was normal again, must’ve been some freaky glitch left in this build… but I did have one extra star. Oh well, I thought to myself, time to kill that wretched koopa Bowser. I walked down the familiar hallway, when I suddenly saw him. Wario? He’s not in this game.. He was in Mario 64 DS, but never in the original. His form was that of a disembodied head, not unlike Mario’s floating head on the title screen, but unlike that one, there was something very sinister about Wario. The more I looked at him, the more he started to fade in, as if becoming real before my very eyes. In a fit of panic, I smashed the reset button, but it seemed a little too late. The headaches began the next day.

I paid no mind to this Wario apparition, choosing to go down the same hallway, this time Wario-free. It was time to kill Bowser once and for all… well, maybe not once and for all, you still fight him a few times in this game, or so I thought. Being an early build, it seemed none of the other areas were finished, so this was the endgame for now. I played through that harrowing level, jammed out to Bowser's killer theme, then finally threw him off the stage. Except this time, he didn’t come back. Boo’s familiar laugh played once again, but this time a text box appeared.

“1995/07/29. Thank you for playing, James.” the first few lines read. James? How did it know my name? This was already freaky, but I pressed A diligently. “Every copy of Mario 64 is personalized. In this build you will find an early version of our personalization algorithm, not unlike the one in the final game, but a lot more active than that one. My name is not important, all you must know is I am a developer of this warped, twisted game. I have been trapped in this build for longer than you have been alive, and I fear you may be next. You have already seen Wario, your time is limited friend. If you are still alive, do not distribute this build. Do not write about it. Do not share it online. Mario 64 is my biggest regret. Do not let it be yours.” The text box closed, and the game faded to black. A faint W plastered on the screen, just barely visible, was all that remained. I shut off the console and started writing this the next day. I have been seeing him in my dreams, Wario. He haunts my every waking moment. As that text box said, I don’t have much time left. I leave you with one final warning, dear reader. Don’t play the 1995 build of Super Mario 64.