It's easy to think you've made a critical error only to discover at the last second that there's a way out that's more efficient than your original plan. While there's usually a best way to solve any particular level, there are alternate routes that are a joy to discover. One of the reasons the puzzles work so well is that they're malleable, with multiple solutions. Tinkering with each stage's geometry is both mentally taxing and genuinely thrilling. One moment you'll panic, and the next have a good handle on the situation. Plotting a whole course from scratch proves to be an exercise in frustration, but you quickly adapt to figuring it out as you go. This can seem daunting the first time you set eyes on all the traps and obstacles between you and your goal, but you'll find the Minis guide you as much as you guide them. To make make things more tense, each exit closes a few seconds after a mini enters, and it's game over if anyone's left stranded. In Mini-Land Mayhem, it's mandatory to rescue everyone. It's a less forgiving game than its predecessors. Stages gradually grow in complexity as they call for you to place springs, conveyor belts and pipes, which recall a 2D version of Portal with a Mario twist. It starts out simple enough, with girders that can attach to rivets to form bridges, walls and ramps. Each level gives you a set amount of objects you can place to guide the mechanical tykes to safety. So Mini-Land Mayhem places greater emphasis on manipulating the environment. Say what you will about the big ape, but that monogrammed tie shows class. Once activated they march forward, only changing direction when bumping into an obstacle. Where previous instalments allowed you to stop minis or change their direction, that's no longer an option in Mini-Land Mayhem. The goal of each level is to make sure all minis survive to reach a door marking the exit. As with the last couple of entries in the series, you do not control Mario himself, but guide wind-up miniatures in the moustachioed mascot's likeness. The plot is as relevant as it is in most Mario games: it's a bare-bones excuse for some platform-based puzzling.
Mario does what any reasonable person would do in that situation and unleashes his hoard of miniatures to get her back.
Donkey Kong arrives late at the scene and misses out on what he believes is his rightful swag, so he kidnaps the real Pauline instead. Lording it over his theme park "Mini-Land", Mario gives away figurines of his original damsel in distress Pauline to his first 100 customers. Just when he thought he'd left it all for good, he gets pulled back to face his oldest foe. Can a man really escape his destiny? Jumpman changed his name to Mario, moved to a Mushroom Kingdom, and went on to become a Walt Disney-like amusement park mogul.