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The camera sweeps across a line of young men and aliens, their blue beaks jutting out. They've all got shaven heads and are standing uncomfortably in their new starched combat fatigues.

Recruit Joker (Voiceover): Paris Island marine training base. Home of the phoney tough and the crazy brave.

Title: Full Uranium Jacket.

Gunnery Segeant Hurtmann walks on, pausing only to savagely smash one of the recruits in the face to add gravity to his forthcoming statements.

Hurtmann: Alright, you worms! I'm here to turn you lot into space marines. As you stand here in the uniform of my beloved Corps, you may think you're marines, but think again. You are worms: no, you are dirt-encrusted bubblegum on the sneakers of worms. You are filth. You are matted crud. Do I make myself clear?

Recruits: (Quietly) Errm, yes Sir.

Hurtmann: What the hell was that? Sound off like you've got a pair!

Recruits: Sir! Yes sir!

Hurtmann: You boy! You're walking down a deserted colony corridor and a slimy disease-ridden alien lurches towards you. What the hell do you do, boy?

Recruit Pyle: Sir! The recruit would engage said hostile alien in hand-to-hand combat techniques, Sir!

Hurtmann: Hand-to-hand combat? What is this, the stone age? There's only one place for scum like you who think that wandering around mazes and picking things up should be accompanied by HTH combat. Report for Gauntlet duties now. You boy, answer the question!

Recruit Joker: Sir! The recruit would take his laser rifle and smear that weirdo alien butt all over the walls with extreme prejudice, Sir!

Hurtmann: And the recruit would be right. Okay, maggots, follow Joker's example and I'll make men of you yet!

Cut To: Montage sequence of training. We view the recruits from above as they work their way through mock-ups of colony bases. Occasionally, stern-faced marine instructors dressed as aliens leap from air vents and clobber the recruits while they scour the rooms for credits, extra ammunition and keys.

At the same time, we see the loser, recruit Pyle, in the Gauntlet simulator. He appears to be doing much the same thing, only he's dressed up as a barbarian, walks slower and the graphics aren't as good. Pyle is not at all happy with his current situation.

Cut To: Graduation day. Hurtmann is finishing reading off the placements.

Hurtmann: ...Ortega. Alien Breed, Joker. Alien Breed '92 (well done, kid) and Pyle, Alien Breed. Looks like you managed it, huh?

Everyone turns to look at Pyle, who's standing with a mad look in his eyes and a fearsome amount of weaponry. It seems he's been hoarding credits and sneaked out to the nearest Intex computer console, where he's bought everything he could afford. Hurtmann goes down in a blaze of machine gun fire and then Pyle turns the gun on himself.

Everyone: No!!!!

Pyle shoots himself with a triple laser, flamethrower, and bouncy laser. It is not pretty. Silence.

Everyone: Oh, well, better get on with the review then.

Cut To: Alien Breed '92. The corridors look the same as the training base, but this time, the ammo's live. The marines split off in pairs and wander the bases, shooting up aliens, slamming fire doors shut and running in blind panic for the exit whenever the lights go to red and the foxy-voiced woman informs you that the level's going to blow up.

Corporal Joker: It was hard going and I lost a lot of good friends. Okay, so the corridors weren't wide enough for both of us to fire at the same time, okay it was easy to get lost, okay so it looked like the movie Aliens, but I loved it, damn it! For nearly a year, we waddled along with our slightly unconvincing walks as the punters demanded more, more, more! We may, as Pyle discovered, have just been a reworking of the '80s dungeon back Gauntlet, but the public loved us, and when I got recalled, I wasn't too surprised.

Cross Fade To: Alien Breed 2. Joker opens the dropship door and squints at the AGA graphics in front of him. They're incredibly colourful and detailed, and he seems pleased that he's opted to go for the A1200 version.

Joker: Okay, partner. Lock and load!

Two figures run into the most ridiculous first level a game has ever seen. Automated helicopters blast the ground as meteors smash into them, and evading these fast-movers is complicated by the players bumping into each other. It's a pointless exercise in reactions and picking up ammo that the game could do without. Bleeding and battered, they eventually reach the compound.

Private Alien: Blimey, Joker, not a promising start to such an eagerly-awaited and popular game.

Corporal Joker: Roger that, Alien, let's hope it gets a little easier and more enjoyable from now on.

Cut To: Inside civilian quarters. It's more enjoyable, but easier? The details of the base are impressive, but so are the enemy. Thousands of them swarm around the base, some of them firing, others disguised as furniture. Pausing for a moment, the team are shocked to see a remote gun turret appear. It's non-stop and relentlessly hard, with the boys taking damage due to the sheer volume of aliens.

Private Alien: Man oh man, this is hard, this is tough.

Corporal Joker: Yeah, but so are we. Let's log onto this Intex computer and check it out.

Private Alien: Hey, not bad. Not only can we now buy things like homing missiles and grenade launchers, but there's also different versions of each gun, so if we're skint we can buy a lower-powered version.

Corporal Joker: It's certainly the only thing that's keeping us alive. That and the fact you start off with a triple laser and I've got this groovy little map. And the woman's still got that smoochy voice. Now let's kick derriere.

Fade To: Three weeks later. Private Alien's providing covering fire as Joker radios in a situation report.

Corporal Joker: We've been taking lots of casualties due to a lack of co-ordination in the two player mode, the hidden aliens only reveal themselves when you're right next to them and there are too many gun turrets, but I can't help having a good time. Relentless, one-track blasting it may be, stupidly hard from the word go it most certainly is, but I'm sticking with it. Now then, let's Rock!!!

The screen dissolves in a blur of gunfire, alien fangs and explosions.

Uppers: It's Alien Breed, only bigger, better, flashier and more than the original. More weapons, more baddies, more levels, more graphics. The sound's great and the in-game maps are a valuable addition to the game. The graded versions of each weapon make powerful guns available to you even at the start of a long day's playing.

Downers: The first level's terrible. Not bland, not mediocre, but terrible. It kills you off in an entirely arbitrary manner, and even when you can do it, it's no fun. Also, the concept of a learning curve seems to have been discarded entirely, with the player thrown in at the deep end with few weapons and lots of bad guys. Oh, and playiing two players actually increases the chances of you dying as you both blunder around.

It's typical of Team 17 to bring out a vastly enjoyable game with some glaringly obvious flaws in it, as that's what they always seem to do. Alien Breed fans out there (and seeing how it's been selling, there must be millions of you) are going to love this, and they'll probably take what I see as 'far too hard' as 'intensely challenging'.

Note: We've only seen the A1200 version so far, but the standard version is apparently going to be just as hard to play in two-player mode, only without as many sound effects or colours. Watch this space for further details.