FLYING SHARK by Stefan Posthuma
Feed the babies who don't have enough to eat,
shoe the children with no shoes on their feet,
house the people who live in the street,
oooohhhh there's a solution....
Steve Miller was again lifting my spirits through my walkman as I
walked toward the bi-plane. Thinking back at the meeting I had
the day before I still couldn't imagine why I ever agreed to do
I mean I had to fly a bi-plane, right into enemy territory,
defended by god-know how many planes, tanks and other terrible
weaponry. I had to cross an extremely large area of all sorts of
terrain giving the enemy plenty of opportunities to hide
themselves. My only help was a powerful gun with the capability
to increase firepower when I picked up certain items left behind
by certain enemy planes, and a smart bomb launcher which would
sweep the immediate vicinity of my craft.
Some people call me the Joker
Some call me the Gangster of Love....
Steve Miller had moved on to his next song and I was having
Then my mind wandered off to the promises they made. If I should
succeed, I would become a national hero. Every network would pay
huge amounts of money to get me in their shows. I would become
famous, girls would finally notice me and I could buy myself a
Especially the last argument persuaded me to climb into the small
cockpit and run the checklist. The voice of the tower crackled in
my helmet giving me all sorts of information on pressure and wind
velocity. But I was not listening and engaged the controls.
Slowly, I manoeuvered the machine out of the hangar, entering the
runway. Pushing forward the throttle, the engine started roaring
and I was pushed back in my seat as the machine sped forward,
like a hungry tiger.
When the wheels lost contact with the ground, a shiver went
through me. This would be it.
Then they came. Two planes in a tight formation, racing towards
me, sending some bullets in my direction with alarming precision.
I quickly evaded the deadly metal, and noticed two other planes
coming. With a powerful blast, I sent them both to their doom.
Another formation, this time three of them approached me. Banking
quickly left, I evaded their bullets and pumped death into them.
Blackened is the end
Winter it will send
Throwing all you see
Metallica has arrived and I turn up the volume of my cockpit
speakers. I specificly requested a powerful stereo system to be
built into my plane so I could at least enjoy my final moments...
After taking care of some more planes, I spotted movement on the
ground. A large, sluggish tank was moving across a dirt track and
its barrel was pointed in my direction. The wings of my plane
shuddered when I hit the controls and barely avoided a grenade. A
mere push of the red button reduced the tank to a smouldering
A small cluster of trees appeared at the horizon, soon after
followed by a large forest. Soon I was skimming the tree-tops and
the unavoidable happened. As I approached a clearing, I barely
noticed it: a tank was hiding under the trees. It entered the
clearing and fired. I merely avoided the bullet and fired back. A
After a while, the forest cleared and a little village appeared.
It seemed peaceful, until the tanks appeared. At the same time a
little lake with some gunboats and a large formation of planes
came into sight. They all fired at me. I don't know how I did it,
but I avoided all bullets and blasted them all to pieces.
Destroying the last plane of the formation revealed a special,
floating sign. Picking it up increased the power of my gun and I
spreaded death ever more efficient. Planes exploded, tanks burned
and boats sunk. Blasting away, dodging the enemy, picking up
firepower, I felt great.
When a man lies he murders
some part of the world
These are the pale deaths
which men miscall their lives
All this I cannot bear
to witness any longer
Cannot the kingdom of salvation
take me home
After destroying some large guns which required multiple hits,
and revealing some hidden arms storages, I finally reached a
large clearing which was occupied by a large, extremely well
armoured vehicle. Not matter how much lead I sprayed over it, it
still kept firing at me. Finally, it exploded and soon after a
runway came in sight. Sighing deeply, I turned off the music and
landed the plane.
Ten minutes later I was in the air again. Feeling fresh, my plane
repaired and Metallica blasting away, I felt ready to take on
every sucker standing in my way. The enemy came in large numbers.
Planes, tanks and little boats threw themselves at me. Using
smart bombs and huge amounts of bullets, I destroyed countless
foes. I reached the sea, destroyed some landing vessels and soon
some large ships approached. Blasting away at them, I reduced
their decks to firestorms. Then a very large aircraft carrier
appeared. Armed with countless guns and guarded by a large
aircraft which was literally spraying bullets, it was hard to
handle. Somehow, I managed and I left a crippled carrier behind.
I was becoming tired. My trigger finger ached, my plane was
battered and my senses were num. Only Metallica showed no sign of
fatigue, and continued hammering away. The enemy came in large
waves. Tanks suddenly appeared from under large rocks, numerous
little boats were firing and large formations of planes were
flying around. Then two very large vehicles rolled into sight.
Desperately, I fired at them, hurled smart bombs at them, but it
seemed to have no effect. Tanks appeared and it was hopeless. I
fired, fired and raged until my finger slipped off the trigger
and my throat was hoarse from shouting. I ran out of smart bombs,
and one of the two vehicles was already disabled, belching black
smoke. But the other one was still there. Another formation of
planes came into sight and with a last desperate attempt, I tried
to blast them.
Death was in my eyes and the grenade hit me hard. The left wing
was ripped off, and my craft sped towards the ground. I let go of
the controls and relaxed, not bothered by the fire around me.
Burning kerosine was pouring out of my plane and before the fire
reached me, the plane hit the ground.
Blackness struck me as life left my crippled body. The last thing
I heard were the sounds of the stereo which had miraculously
survived the crash. I closed my eyes and never opened them
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now
'Flying shark' is a shoot-them-up. In fact, it is a vertically
scrolling shoot-them-up in which you can collect extra weaponry
and have to blast a wide variety of enemies, both moving and
integrated in the background. It has nice graphics and sound and
becomes increasingly more difficult.
This game will never get the 'most original game of 1988' award.
But I like it. In fact, I really like it.
I mean, it has really interesting, varied background graphics and
the action is fast 'n furious. If you are into these kind of
mass-slaughter blast games, this one is perfect. I also like the
way the background is used. Tanks follow little roads and bridges
and hide under trees and buildings. You can blast depots,
revealing more tanks. The larger vehicles requiring more hits
will catch on fire, and will eventually become disabled and
This is a game for the hardened shoot-them-up freak. With five
levels of varied backgrounds, massive amounts of enemies, bullets
flying around, and an impressive amount of firepower to built up,
it is great to get rid of any frustration. Play it while
listening to loud music.
Name: Flying Shark
Value for money: 8
Overall rating: 8
Remark: Simple but effective, great for the
freaks. It gives me a sore trigger-
finger. Great blasting!!
Hardware: Color and joystick only.
Thanks to Ania Makowska of British Telecom for sending me a
For info, contact:
64-76 New Oxford Street
London WC1A 1PS
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.