#gb2

We're goin' back to the year 2000 again! It was a year where GameBoy emulation was really picking up thanks to the hype behind Pokémon Gold and Silver, and a little fan translation was feeding everyone's fever.

PR Translations, formed by Philip Reuben, was responsible for allowing tons of Pokémon fans to meet the second generation a little earlier than anyone else outside Japan. Not that he did it entirely alone, as there were around 30 additional contributors cited in the Readme of the final release before the project ended in favor of the official release. One of those contributors, Chris Judah, also helped with a much more low-key translation project: Bokujou Monogatari GB2.

While you could play most of the translation for Pokémon Gold, very little of GB2 was actually completed. Mostly just a few lines from around the farm. Signs, the TV, a bit from the intro and picking your character... It was really barely anything at all.

You could pretty easily tell that it was building off of their work with Pokémon. Things like the "PK" and "MN" letters from the Pokémon font being present being an obvious giveaway.

It really wasn't much, and the included ReadMe wasn't shy about that. Shortly after the patch released, Natsume would formally announce that the game would be releasing in English and the project was shelved. Still, the association with Pokémon's fan translation did get it a surprising amount of people playing it at the time. I only wish it was easier to find message boards from back then, since I definitely recall a lot of discussion about the game from people discovering the series after just wanting to play the new Pokémon and wanting to try this other game they had a translation for. Similar scenarios playing out for a few of their other incomplete translations, like Doraemon 3: Nobita to Toki no Hōgyoku.

For some additional context, this is from before HMFarm existed, as well as when FOGU was solely a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fan page with a very lovely shrine to Vernon Fenwick. This tiny, extremely incomplete fan translation, really is one of the earliest surviving things to let you take a peek into the earliest era of the internet fandom for the series.

I tried to reach out to Philip Reuben a few times so I could ask about the project. Memories, why the project was chosen, things like that. Unfortunately, I never received any replies using publicly available e-mail addresses, but it's possible those aren't monitored anymore. Looking at Mobygames, it's easy to see he's a bit of a busy guy nowadays! His body of work includes several Nintendo of Europe releases, including series such as Splatoon, Xenoblade, and Super Smash Brothers. I didn't have much luck finding any contact information for Chris Judah, either.

keep a picture of him/her in the wallet.

-EGON SPENGLER

Within the confines of the laboratory, plunged into everyday darkness, lay Spengler.

It was 12:30 at night, ten minutes after he had finished the last call... He was found at his desk, writing the letter of recommendation for the new recruit. His tired body leaned against the wood in a subtle movement to rest the pain in his back.

Exactly thirteen hours had passed since his shift began, hour after hour that had exhausted every ounce of his patience. The well-seeded root of his temper was on the verge of faltering, and in all honesty of him, it stood to reason that over the course of the next hour, his control would waver. Various emotions had mixed inside. He felt tired, stressed... And it was humiliating to know that his ethical temperament wavered for mere mortals. Humans who didn't know when to shut up.

Then, as his vision blurred and the ink from the ballpoint pen slid across the skin of his hand, Spengler stopped writing...

He tried to breathe, to calm the constant shaking in her legs. But nothing worked. He tried to stop the irrational thoughts that accumulated in the mind, to clear the senses by going over and over the same sentence in her mind... And yet, disturbance continued.

Then unconscious and almost ghostly his unbroken hand slid off the wood into his pocket and out of the sack a wallet. Unfolding it, Spengler's fingers reached into one of the compartments. They discarded the cards, the tickets, the identifications... Until his touch was found with the velvety texture of a cardboard.

From the wallet he took out a small photograph, with a format of no more than five centimeters. The edges were worn to the point of peeling off in layers of gray... In it, the image of a young-looking woman was embodied. Her finely tuned features had been captured with wonderful precision on paper, despite the poor quality of the print and its years of existence.

Spengler's fingers brushed the photograph. His expression did not change, as he watched in meticulous analysis the image under his eyes... The image of your smiling face greeted him. Then Egon smiled, gently taking the paper. His eyes behind the glasses took in your every feature, and for a moment he remembered what they looked like in person in the sunlight... Covered by snow...

The image represented a subtle consolation for the man, enough to make him return to his place. The feeling of pride that was planted in his belly still remained. Spengler kissed the photo, then placed it upright on the desk.

I only see him as a friend (biggest lie I ever said)