4 items
Slot your game into the Game Genie, slot the Game Genie into the console, thumb in a code from the booklet, and play with unlimited lives. Nintendo went to court to kill it, lost, and was ordered to pay Galoob the entire $15 million bond it had posted — a landmark copyright fight waged over a plastic cheat cart. It was never a Nintendo product, and it wasn't Nintendo-only: Sega gave the Genesis version its official approval while Nintendo was still in court.
The cheat device of the PlayStation and N64 years: impossibly long hexadecimal codes, thumbed in one character at a time with the d-pad, in exchange for infinite everything. Codes came from magazines, a members-only newsletter, and a 1-900 number that charged you $1.29 a minute.
The glossy gaming magazines you subscribed to with the little bind-in postcard — GamePro, Game Players, and their newsstand rivals. Multi-platform reviews, screenshot-packed previews, and pages of cheat codes you copied out by hand before a big weekend.
"FINISH HIM!" — and now you had about three seconds to nail a memorized joystick incantation, at exactly the right distance, for exactly your character. Land it and the whole arcade turned to watch. Fatality. Or, if you were feeling truly disrespectful: Friendship.