************************* * PEGGLE DELUXE * * DELUXE WALKTHRU v1.03 * * Inspired by Peggle * * Written by Mr. Burger * ************************* Contact the author: firstname.lastname@example.org Game: “Peggle Deluxe” Developer: PopCap Release: 11 March 2009, US EU JP ****************** * PREFATORY NOTE * ****************** “TREAT IT WITH DUE CARE. FEEL ITS SHAPE.” While writing this player’s guide, I kept Peggle on in the background. I had to. This was so that I wouldn’t lose focus on what it was I sought to write. I couldn’t leave the game, lest my muse slip away or go flaccid or change form. You see, there is a certain way of thinking about the nature of the way I experience my surroundings and its contents that only ever occurs to me as clearly as it does when I’m playing Peggle. And I know others must share this sense of paradigmatic wholeness while playing, too. Readers who have played Peggle for extended periods of time, late into the wee-most hours, squinting at the screen through that solipsistic haze of delirium, surely must know what I mean, although it is hard to articulate. Hard as eff. All one can really say is that some uncommon aspect of ourselves is made known through Peggle play. Some hard, tight sphincter deep inside our minds gets a special chance to dilate only if and when we breach that 3rd or 4th consecutive hour of launching ball bearings into peg-addled gameboards. What is it? I don’t know. I am not here to give it a name. I have merely known it, and can say that I have. Regardless of its spoken intent, Peggle is ultimately all about This One Thing. It is about this philosophical secret that can only be visited, never taken home. Though PopCap did not perhaps intend for this to be the case, and though in fact they probably only aspired as much as to make a fun game blending elements of Plinko, Pinball, and Bust-a-Move, that there is to the gameplay this unique and eerie element is nevertheless so. -------------------'-------------------'-------------------'------------------- ****************** * WHAT TO EXPECT * ****************** .:WHEN YOU FIRST SHOOT THE BALL:. You know where the ball’s going to go when you first shoot it out into the board, that's what the arrow's for. .:THE FIRST BOUNCE:. From there, however, things require a bit of fancy guesswork. Which guesswork is, I must add, conspicuously and *addictively* different from random, stab-in- the-dark-type guesswork. That is to say, there is an element of *skill* to this bit of guesswork. It takes nothing less than a great deal of practice to figure out how certain angles of reflection, in tandem with the simulated gravity of the gameboard, will tend to make your ball do this or that thing. There is, additionally, and this is important, an element of roleplaying to this element of semi-controllability of the gameplay, yes an element within an element, by which I mean one can pretend to be some kind of prescient Peggle wizard totally and deliberately responsible for every aspect of a shot when it turns out the ball does some amazingly lucky thing. Thing is, it is a blissy rush when things go right, and downright giddy-making when they go *better* than right, and I'd be a hypocrite not to suggest just giving into the delusion that you are amazing, rather than lucky. It can make you a better player, this delusion. Which is mostly a lie, but also kind of true, in that this kind of attitude seems to beget careful, thought-out, confident play, which is good to practice, if only because it can make you associate more positively with the game, like the game more, and in turn play more (=> practice more => get better as a player). Anyway, let me explain what I mean by "semi-controllability." After the initial launch of the ball, described at the top of this page, which with practice should become fully controllable assuming you can develop decent aim with the cannon thing, after the initial launch and the subsequent collision with its intended peg, a practiced player can still be like 80% sure of where the ball's going to go. Like you can learn how to kind of tweak your aim to make sure the ball veers perfectly left, or glances some corner in just such a way that it comes off at this really nice angle, or you can make sure it jangles around gorgeously in this tight cluster of pegs, illuminating practically all of them before leaving. And so on. It is possible to get good at this, and you’ll notice pretty quick it’s the difference between experienced players and their noobier brethren. (Relevant Aside: Bjorn the Unicorn (also affectionately called Bjornicorn by those in the know)'s special ability is to grant the player delicious 100% access to what I'm talking about here, of what the ball will do after its first bounce. The power is called Super Guide. That Bjorn is the first character players use in the game is no coincidence, for his is a skill one must quickly understand is vital.) .:THE SECOND BOUNCE:. Where it bounces after *that* bounce, whether using Bjorn or not, however, will always be a significantly less predictable phenomenon, like let's say 40% predictable. A trained player, however, will know how to make the most of that 40%, of that rough but crucially usable idea of what's going to happen. A trained player can generally develop a vague, probability-cloud-like hypothesis. "It will stay on the right side of the screen," is one kind of hypothesis. "I really hope it does something over here in this little area, gets some of those oranges, maybe hits the purple one," is another kind. A trained player can even pretend to develop a kind of plan around one of these hypotheses, is another kind of hypothesis; like if there are a lot of orange pegs on one side of the screen, then she can "hope" the ball does what she’s "trying" to get it to do, i.e., what she’s like 19% sure it could conceivably do. .:THE REST OF THE BOUNCES:. Once you've predicted the first and second bounces, you basically have to step up to a conceptual wheel of fortune and give it a spin. There are roughly five regions on the wheel: %@ luck, bad luck, neutral luck, good luck, and amazing luck. This shouldn’t require much explanation. But, hey, this is all for fun anyway: %@ luck: the ball does more or less nothing you wanted it to do. It hits maybe one peg and then plummets to its death. Or it hits NO pegs, and you of course lose the subsequent coin-toss for a free ball. If anyone’s watching you play, they will laugh at you, and will tell you to chill, it’s just a game, if you freak out. This player’s guide author suggests you don’t chill. Let the fury become you. Peggle is not just a game. Peggle is a means of getting in touch with your emotions and, in a sense, with the universe. Bad luck: the ball does a useless, mutant version of what you needed it to do, and nothing good comes of it. At first you’ll just groan when this happens. If it happens too much, though, or a few times in a row, you’ll go, “Eff’s sake, come on,” and probably want to switch characters. Switching characters sometimes works. Neutral luck: the ball just farts about randomly, and you get like, what, maybe a handful of points for it. Neutral luck will define the bulk of your Peggle experience. You will become very familiar with neutral luck. You will become so familiar with neutral luck it will be hard to describe, like how it’s hard to describe what breathing feels like. In fact, you won’t “become” familiar with neutral luck, you will just notice one day, after maybe a long Peggle session, that, man, neutral luck's just *like* that. Neutral luck is just the stuff of being. Appreciate it, or don’t. It doesn’t care. Good luck: the ball surprises you in a nice way. It does what you expected, and then some, and like maybe lands in the free ball bucket or something. One decently lucky shot isn’t enough to bring you out of an emotional slump if you’ve been having a run of neutral/bad/$&%@ luck, but it still feels, like I said, kind of nice. Amazing luck: the ball does your every bidding and more. You are the master of your domain, AND you are lucky. Anything, bloody *anything*, is possible. “Please hit the orange ones,” you might say, and the ball will hit the orange ones. “Oh my god, hit the pink one, hit the pink one, hit the *effing* pink one,” and the ball will do as bidden, even though you called it “the pink one” and technically it’s the purple one. You want such a high score that you get three free balls? Effing done. And a couple of random bonuses for like long shots or wall-bounces or whatnot? Done. Need the ball to land in the bucket? You didn’t even have to ask. You knew it was going to go in there. Eff you. You rock. (Relevant aside: the Zen Ball, property of Master Hu, is programmed to do the best possible thing based on the ball’s initial trajectory (plus or minus a little bit of computer-aided adjustment), and is thus highly prone to doing Amazingly Lucky things. However, it feels a little less cool, a little less like your own fault, when Master Hu is the one making these amazing things happen for you, and for that reason, well … I don’t know what I was going to say, there, but it just kind of sucks.) -------------------'-------------------'-------------------'------------------- ************** * CHARACTERS * ************** BJORN: The first character you’ll use is Bjorn. He’s kind of the mascot of Peggle, for a number of fun and obvious vibe-related reasons. His magic ability, “Super Guide,” activated the turn following the one in which you hit a green peg and lasting for not merely one but a *few* turns, is useful AND educational. Bjorn basically teaches players what it feels like to see the future, a feeling a Peggle player must get used to. A trained player will *regularly* ponder deeply the nature of time, and how he or she stands in respect to it. JIMMY LIGHTNING: His skill, “Multiball,” duplicates the ballbearing the moment it hits the green peg, which twin balls then diverge from the point of duplication and continue on unlike paths throughout the gameboard. The balls *can* collide with each other. Beyond the game, Jimmy will make you think about determinism and/or about quantum flux and/or about the tangibility of a multiverse, about how without his magic your original ballbearing might have gone *either* of two (or more) routes, but not both. Chew on that. Then move on, because Jimmy kind of sucks. KAT TUT: “Pyramid Power” sets up long shallow ramps on either side of the bucket at the bottom of the game board, each ramp sloping up to its rim. This makes it easier to get the ball into the hole, but doesn’t guarantee anything. A new kind of frustration is born out of when the ball bounces along the pyramid but fails to go in. Sigh. Still, one can’t deny that it’s a helpful power. And it teaches one the value of a safety net. SPLORK: If you can take advantage of it early enough or in a densely packed enough location, Splork’s “Space Blast” is like a wild, powerful burp, one of those that makes you sound like Optimus Prime if you talk while you’re doing it, and that almost feels like how being a big powerful robot in charge of other big powerful robots must feel. Every peg around the green peg just explodes and is made gone in one powerful instant, and it’s wonderful. If the green peg is in a sparsely populated region of the gameboard, however, whether out of bad luck or because you accidentally got rid of all the pegs around it, then it sucks and you might as well restart the level because you’re missing the point. CLAUDE: “Flippers,” as in pinball flippers, appear at the bottom corners of \the screen, and are both flipped simultaneously with the same button press. Now, note: there are certain levels where using Claude’s flippers is just stupid. These are levels where nothing is set up to bias the ballbearing’s path so that it should end up in either the left or right corners where the flippers are, or levels where things outright *block* the left and right corners so that the ball either never ends up there or, when it does, stays trapped there. Using Claude in levels built to favor his flippers, however, is inextinguishable fun. You can keep the ball in play for minutes at a time in these levels, if you’re careful enough, and rack up scores that are like OMG. Beware, though, that after these extended rallies, the gameboard tends to be kind of hollowed out in such a way that it then actively *does not* favor the flippers. So it’s kind of a one-shot deal. Use wisely. RENFIELD: Renfield’s “Spooky Ball” is a green ball that drops out of the top of the screen at the same point along the X-axis at which the original ball vanished at the bottom of the screen. The spooky ball will retain the trajectory of the original ball. So if the original ball went barreling diagonally to its death, then the spooky ball will barrel diagonally out of the top of the screen. Um, also, the free ball bucket is lidded until the original ball vanishes. And that’s the power. It is about as hard to control as it sounds, since it’s practically impossible to predict/plan for what the original ball will be doing by the time it reaches the bottom of the screen. The only way around this is to wait until the screen is mostly empty (= devoid of chaos- producing obstacles) and then strategize as to what you want to hit with your original ball so that it hits the bottom of the screen in just such a way that the spooky ball does this or that thing. At the end of the day, Renfield *can* potentially make fun things happen, but it’s mostly so largely out of your control that’s it not all that rewarding, and even when it is in your control it’s in such an awkward, roundabout way that… well, expect, just out of your own natural inclination, meaning regardless of what I’ve said here, not to come back to him very often. TULA: Tula’s a champ, maybe THE champ. Her power, “Flower Power,” illuminates 10% of the total orange pegs on the gameboard, starting with those closest to whichever green peg you just hit and blossoming outward from there. If you can hit both of the green pegs in the first turn, you Can. Know. Happiness. And if maybe you’re trying to fill up the Fevermeter and the point multiplier early on in a round in order to, say, do the best you can possibly do on some given level, then Tula’s your man. She will never be the “wrong” character for *any* level (although there are a few levels, IDK, like flipper-friendly levels, where other characters are maybe “better” choices). When you get to her, you’ll be like “Man, why would I use any other character?” And you’ll be right to wonder. Okay. Now let’s hold on a sec. I need a breather. Truth be told, I’m kind of regretting saying I’d write an entire section about *every* character. I feel like I'm deviating from what is at the heart of this game and, if things work out, this player's guide. But okay, on with it. Almost done, and then we'll get back to the point. WARREN: Warren’s power, “Lucky Spin” can make a few different things happen. It can grant you a free extra ball. It can triple your score for the remainder of the shot. It give you any other character's power, chosen at random. Or it can put a ghostly little “Magic Hat” atop your ball that essentially turns your ball from a little sphere plinking about into a kind of dinky vertical light- saber that cuts *swaths* through the pegs. As you mightimagine, the magic hat can do important things to a gameboard. Thing is, there’s only a one-in-three chance you’ll get it in any given round. If you’re trying to strategize with Warren, then you’ll have to put up with his flakiness. LORD CINDERBOTTOM: LC’s power, “Fireball,” turns your next shot into a smoldering boulder that obliterates all in its path. To use it properly, you have to aim for the bucket (temporarily lidded, until you hit it once) to make the fireball bounce back up into the gameboard and do a little extra damage. If the oranges are arranged in a couple of tidy little arcs, then you can really eff $&%@ up. Also, one of the greatest, crowd-pleasingest sensations in the game arises from bouncing the fireball off the bucket and then a second later getting it to land back *in* the bucket. A trained player will yadda yadda yadda. MASTER HU: This controversial figure (I’ll explain) grants one the power of the “Zen Ball” (which I actually explained earlier, but in parenthesis, so I think technically have to explain it again). Then “Zen Ball” takes advantage of the fact that what you’re playing is entirely a simulation run by a computer that is smarter than you and has no real understanding of the concepts of “probability” or “uncertainty.” You line up the Zen Ball shot, and the computer then readjusts your aim a little bit so as to get you the most possible points out of your shot. It’s effing sweet, is what you’ll probably notice the first time you use it. Thing is, and here’s what I meant by the aforementioned controversy, the Zen Ball is only reliable when it’s reliable. It’s not magic. If you accidentally feed it a lousy shot, one for which even the sweetest and most improved Zen adjustment garners only mere pittance--and note that sometimes it’s sincerely hard for even a trained player to tell what will be a good shot and what will be a crap shot--then Master Hu won’t do you much good. Maybe it’ll still tell you “Maximum Zen Achieved!” but you’ll only hit a few pegs before [poop sound]. There’ll go whole rounds where you’ll be like, “Wait, I already used *both* my Zen Balls?” And that’s when you’ll have no choice but to make this one face that all players make when they become disillusioned with Master Hu. NOTE: Peggle tells you, in game, that with Zen Ball you need to make sure and aim at pegs or at corners so that the ball bearing has lots of “alternate angles to consider” in calculating an optimum rout. But you go ahead and try that and see if it keeps you from inevitably making the face. Go ahead. -------------------'-------------------'-------------------'------------------- **************** * HOW TO THINK * **************** If you’re playing correctly, Peggle will challenge your sense of self-agency. Why can’t you make the ball do exactly what you want? Because the apparatus-- the game board, the ball, the simulated gravity--is altogether too complex, and your brain is too much jelly and not enough computer. The aim arrow protruding from your Peggle cannon is less an aide to injury than an insult; like a flashlight held out to the abyss, it serves no purpose other than to show you what you cannot see. Where do you venture? You cannot set a goal. You can plan only so far ahead before your route must give way to the darkness of chance. The moment you launch it, you know about as much about what is about to happen to the ball as the ball itself does. You and the ball both know it will hit the first peg. And from there, it may hit that other peg that you want it to, and it may not; either way, what happens after *that* is just an ever-branching fractal of IDKs and Maybes. It doesn’t just get complicated, it gets downright poignant. It gets to where the lesson we’re supposed to learn here applies to much more than the game. Peggle has existential and epistemic consequences. What so curiously makes Peggle both fulfilling and emptying is that it gorgeously blurs the line between what the player is responsible for getting right and what the player has no control over. We are responsible only to an extent, and no amount of practice can bring us above or beyond. Imagine playing Bobby Fischer in a game of chess. You would expect to lose, no? You would expect that, no matter how far ahead you anticipated his moves, he would see farther. He would outthink you. But now imagine that with a great deal of practice, you could conceivably get better than Bobby Fischer at chess. It’s totally doable. The human mind is no abyss. It is subject to much simpler, more elegant patterns than those governed (or, more accurately, not governed) by chaos. Peggle is a game of chess against something far harder to predict than any human. In fact, to call Peggle an “opponent” is to belittle just how much better it is than you. You could sooner win against yourself. And, in a sense, that is what you’re aiming to do, isn’t it? Bear with me. Deglaze those eyes. Do not look away from the screen. Do not pass the controller. Do not blame yourself for a little bad luck. For when there is good luck, there is no such thing as good luck. There is only you, and the abyss, and the sensation. -------------------'-------------------'-------------------'------------------- ************************* * HOW/WHY TO CONTACT ME * ************************* If any readers find themselves niggled with troubling or seemingly insoluble questions, they should please feel most free to email me: email@example.com. I have a baccalaureate degree in Philosophy, Neuroscience, and Psychology, and so am somewhat prepared to at least *endeavour* to help answer many of the ilk of challengingly bleak, behemoth questions Peggle summons from the mire. And should some surprise species of question rear its heinous, pox-ridden head, then I am at the very least a good and able combatant to have at one's side. The direst point I need to make is just that I am contactable, and that *I am* period--that is, that you are not utterly, darkly, hideously alone. Or if you just want to talk about Peggle, like in general, then that's also a healthy reason to email me. One more time: firstname.lastname@example.org Also, if you see anything in need of adjustment, just let me know. I'm always tweaking this thing in my spare time. I know there are probably a few holes or flubs in its logic. -------------------'-------------------'-------------------'------------------- Copyright 2011 by Mr. Burger and maybe GameFAQs If this or any portion of this appears on some site other than GameFAQs, please know that is in violation of some law or other, probably. Personally, I don't care who reads this, but I can't speak for everyone. There is probably someone who'd be totally PO'ed if they knew you were reading this where you weren't supposed to. They'd see it as yet one more instance of probably a kind of degradation of society, and it'd P them O something awful. This could be someone as misguided and well-meaning as like your dad, so think about that. Before you read this from someplace you're not supposed to, think about how it might hypothetically hurt someone-not-unlike-your-own-father's feelings. We're not here to ruin anyone's day, is why we follow seemingly inane laws like digital copyright laws.