Before Hideo Kojima started huffing his own farts and grew an ego the size of Nicki Minaj's silicone-riddled arse, there was this absolute gem of a game that, back in 1998, I didn't even think was possible on PS1 hardware. Working within the confines of the console's limited specs was probably the best thing for MGS, because it meant Kojima had to restrain himself. It's still a short game that takes up two discs, but still it meant that he couldn't 'beguile' us with 40 minute exposition dumps and unintentionally funny scenes where a character goes on a random tangent about the time they had an affair with their own stepmom. MGS1 is tightly-paced, revolutionary, and has the least amount of its creator's trademark self-indulgent horseshit.

He'll never make a game this good again.