Sometimes I wonder if Nintendo understands the power it wields. For one thing, it has nearly exclusive command over our nostalgia for old video games. Sony is certainly no slouch in this department, though it was obviously counting on us to get soppy over PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale, and that didn’t happen. Give it time, Sony. Give it time.

But when I talk about Nintendo and power, I’m not just referring to its age-old mascots and music. The company also has a remarkable talent for turning mundane processes and objects into spectacular things that you can’t look away from.

When I was little, my mother pointed out how Nintendo’s tendency to put eyes on clouds, flowers, and every other object in the Mushroom Kingdom is a trademark of sorts. Bushes and trees aren’t just background noise to be glanced at and ignored. Their eyes indicate they have a soul. They see the world and its conflicts. They know what you do in the dark.

So Nintendo’s talent at pitching in-app purchases, as seen with the 3DS StreetPass games (including the recently-released Ultimate Angler and Battleground Z), comes as zero surprise.

Being a mobile games reviewer, I’m subjected to innumerable in-game sales pitches. Virtually 100% of them don’t go far beyond “Pay $0.99 to remove ads,” or something similar. At any rate, I can’t think of any game company, mobile or otherwise, that’s engineered a mascot that exists only to ask you, “Hey, want to buy these games? Let me tell you about them! I’m here to help!”

Nintendo has engineered one such mascot, however.

And he’s adorable.

And he’s the king of guilt-tripping.

“Do you have a minute to hear about El-Ahrairah?”

I hang up on pushy telemarketers. I’m always polite, I never raise my voice or swear, but if you try and keep me on the line after my first “No thanks,” I’m going to cut the line and get back to my life.

It’s much harder to say “No” to Nintendo’s Bunny-kun (just making a name up on the fly, here). For one thing, he’s stares at you with his tiny, yet somehow expressive, cinder-dot eyes. Mind, he makes eye contact with your Mii, not you, but let’s be honest with ourselves here: You are being addressed. You and your fragile heart.

If you agree to look at Bunny-kun’s wares (and let’s face it, you’re going to), he’s just so damn grateful that you’re giving him the privilege of showing you what he’s got. And I don’t mean he inspires the kind of pitiable contempt you feel for a bad salesperson like, say, ol’ Gil from The Simpsons. He knows your time is valuable, and he’s thankful you’re lending him a slice of it to hear what he has to say.

There is no superiority in his pitch, no thinly-veiled sneering, no underlying imagery of a shark munching on a rube. In fact, if you agree to just buy all the StreetPass games up for grabs without listening to the pitch, Bunny-kun is seized by ecstatic shock.

“BOWR??”

If you refuse to buy any of the StreetPass games – how could you, you  monster – Bunny-kun becomes dejected and says, “Oh, I see.” Don’t worry. He’ll be there all day if you change your mind. It’s not like there’s any point in going back home to his wife and 15 kittens without any dosh in his pockets, you know?

Bunny-kun believes in his products. He believes in you.

Why didn’t Nintendo use this guy to sell the Wii U? The PlayStation 4 would’ve been left in a dust cloud.

“Yeah I don’t even like Mario or Zelda, but there was this rabbit–”

(Images from GiantBomb)