• 
  • A la une du site
  • 100 dernièrs ajouts de fichiers ..
• 
  • Demolist
  • Download
  • Interviews
  • Articles et Dossiers
  • Cheats
  • Gallerie/Musée graphiques
  • Productions CPC+
• 
  • Articles
  • Tests / Gameslist
  • Pokes et Solutions
  • Auteurs
  • Compagnies d'édition
  • Gallerie/Musée graphiques
  • Download
  • Référencement de livres et magazines AMSTRAD CPC
  • Peoples
• 
  • Articles et Chroniques
  • Infos Techniques
  • Crossdev
  • Sources
• 
  • Dépannage
  • Les CPC
  • Les matériel et périphériques
  • Doc's et schémas ...
  • Les montages
  • Service manual
  • Peoples
• 
  • Référencement d'applications AMSTRAD CPC
  • Référencement de livres et magazines AMSTRAD CPC
  • Peoples
• 
  • Download
  • Tools
  • Crossdev
• 

Amstrad Computer User

★ Ce texte vous est présenté dans sa version originale ★   ★ This text is presented to you in its original version ★   ★ Este texto se presenta en su versión original ★   ★ Dieser Text wird in seiner Originalfassung präsentiert ★  In case your mother never told you, a word of advice. Avoid Blue Stilton and pilchard sandwiches. Especially with Tabasco. In a fit of boredom, I concocted just such a snack, and settled down to watch Fire Fox on the old video. Having consumed said comestibles, I started to nod off. I awoke with a start, not in the living room but at the controls of a Mk IV Haddock, the deadliest helicopter ever built. I looked out of the window. Below me was a steaming, stinking swamp where thick bubbles of noxious gas belched to the surface and lazily plopped open. Stifling thoughts of British Rail coffee, I reached for the radio. "Hello Control", I shouted, "what's going on?". The voice crackled back: "Don't let us down now. See that compound in the distance, with the high fence? That's a top secret research station, where Professor Fay K. Germanaccent has been developing a new type of clone. "You have to rescue the clones and return them to the Clone Transporter on the other side of the swamp". "Is that all?" I gasped, still thinking of BR catering. "No, of course not", said the radio. It cackled horribly and continued: "Some of the professor's other experiments have escaped to the swamp, and just happen to have a helicopter phobia. They'll attack you on sight." "Thank God I'm in a Haddock", I sighed. "Don't sigh too soon", Control giggled. "All you've got is bombs. We've disabled the lasers, guns, cannon and anything else that might help you. You're doomed. DOOMED! Hahahahahaha!". Control had never been the same since we'd slipped him that ginseng cigarette... I was on my own. Looking through my bomb sights I saw what looked like psychadelically coloured eggs rising up towards me. I thumbed the bomb release button, and watched the monsters die unborn in a cloud of chromatic coruscations. The fence loomed. I landed the chopper, and noticed that the electricity in the fence scared away the Things from the Swamp. Somewhat relieved, I opened the door as a clone plodded towards the craft. It hopped in, and I took off, swinging in a tight are towards the thick air above the morass. Halfway across, a swarm of monsters attacked from above. My God, I thought. They look just like plastic ducks. But the gleam in their eyes was most unducklike. Somehow I managed to avoid them and put the chopper into the clone transporter. The clone bumbled out, and I was faced with another journey across that deadly bog. The rest of the mission faded into a blur until I realised that my time was up. A host of evil, multicoloured monsters hovered around, leering unpleasantly and humming the Crossroads theme tune. They made a dive for the copter and I span down, down, down . . . I sat bolt upright in my armchair. The television hissed at me. It was two in the morning, and it had all been a cheese-induced nightmare. My stomach turned at the thought of that coffee. Still, hadn't Edgar Allen Poe made good use of drug-inspired trips? Of course the modern equivalent of the horror novel is the budget computer game, and this had been pretty horrific. I dismissed the thought almost as soon as it crossed my mind. Nobody would buy that. I shrugged my shoulders, and went upstairs to bed. ACU #8610

CPCrulez[Content Management System] v8.732-desktop/c Page créée en 376 millisecondes et consultée 3414 fois L'Amstrad CPC est une machine 8 bits à base d'un Z80 à 4MHz. Le premier de la gamme fut le CPC 464 en 1984, équipé d'un lecteur de cassettes intégré il se plaçait en concurrent  du Commodore C64 beaucoup plus compliqué à utiliser et plus cher. Ce fut un réel succès et sorti cette même années le CPC 664 équipé d'un lecteur de disquettes trois pouces intégré. Sa vie fut de courte durée puisqu'en 1985 il fut remplacé par le CPC 6128 qui était plus compact, plus soigné et surtout qui avait 128Ko de RAM au lieu de 64Ko.