As a youth I would hit start through the title menu in panicked precision just to avoid the loathsome whoosh of Majora’s mask followed by the Happy Mask Salesman’s iconic giggle.
Majora’s Mask unfortunately was an elusive title for it was the last release for the N64 console before the GameCube came around.
Unlike most Zelda games, this one is actually a sequel; to Ocarina of Time—which occurs in an alternate universe. It counts by Zelda standards.
The most general plotline to the game is this: the moon is going to crash into Clock Town and destroy all of Termia. Skull Kid is doing this and you have to stop him. And maybe it’s just young ambition, but you but you feel connected to this doomed world where its people you not only save—but become wholly involved with.
I recall a young inn-keeper who receives a letter which turns out to be from her fiancé, who was turned into a child by Skull Kid, and you ultimately reunite them so they can embrace each other while the moon crashes into Clock Town and kills them.
Which brings me to my next point. Majora’s Mask taught a very valuable lesson in life—an irksome one, but important no-less; you can’t save everyone, and sacrifice must sometimes be made for a greater good.
Majora’s Mask actually wasn’t received too well with its initial release. Folks disliked it due to the time-limit, plus the GameCube they probably had just bought.
It did make a comeback during the end of the world last year due to its apocalyptic theme. I like to imagine that in some basement somewhere, a bunch of fan-fucks in army helmets pouring Dr. Pepper all over eachother, had an end of world