Mappy and Me
Furthermore, I found through an arcade game information page that Mappy's bonuses for picking up flashing treasures isn't random -- it rewards you for grabbing loot in like pairs (for example, you get more for grabbing a level's two paintings in order, rather than, say, getting one painting, grabbing a safe, and then getting the other painting). It also rewards you more for grabbing pairs in ascending order value (there are five types of treasure with fixed values of 100 - 500 points), and still more if you can nab the whole sequence without getting killed, since the pair-bonus multiplier increases so long as you stay alive.
Once discovered, this opens up a new, voluntary sub-game, where you try to get treasure in a specific order, and the whole game becomes a completely different challenge as the treasure layout on each level turns from an arbitrary, open-ended scatter into a highly specific path you must follow! Seventeen years after I started playing it, the game has redefined itself because of an insight that occurred on my end. That, friend, is brilliant game design.
Seeing that page's photograph of the Mappy machine again reminds me of the one thing that MAME can't deliver -- the actual, unique cabinet that each game had. These cabinets were often individually designed for each game, in both graphics and shape, and the better ones had a real aesthetic effect on the game-playing experience. Mappy's cabinet was a lot of fun, with cute drawings of the main characters on its oversized marquee, chasing each other around the screen, and peeping out from behind the coin box. I can think of some games that were practically all about their cabinets — the full-surround version of Discs of Tron was truly a thing of beauty to play, especially when all its woofer-intensive speakers worked.
Now when I play arcade games, I have the same interface every time; my plain white iBook with its teensy little arrow keys. Not the same.
Improvements in MAME