“Ken sent me,” mumbles greasy, sex-starved and balding 80s every-man Leisure Suit Larry. From a monochrome display tied to a grey brick of a PC hummed the most terrible and catchy 8-bit music ever. From this XT desktop I typed furiously into my chunky keyboard as I tried to decipher the clues to this maddening game. I was eight and sex to me meant having my eyes covered by my mom whenever two people started kissing on TV. Larry was the forbidden fruit of my youth.
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