It's 1992 and for the first time a magazine is watching a generation end without a replacement it can cover. Your Sinclair fears for its future in a fast moving world and reacts with the magazine equivalent of buying a red sports car and some ill-advised hairplugs.
Sandwiching that there's a cartoon licence, because this is still an 8-bit computer and a smart looking horizontally scrolling shooter published by but not starring a Zeppelin.
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