The last of these three people will need you to do a favour which probably involves fighting some robots. Combat is, despite the range of weapons and mutant powers available, also usually a question of frantically clicking at everything. Rather than using any actual tactics, you hope against hope that the robots (or sometimes human traitors) die before your party does.
Special mention must be made of the hacking minigame. I’ve completed a lot of arbitrary tasks to open doors in my time: the classic electronic maze, the less common word matching, and even those annoying sliding block puzzles you usually only see in dentist’s waiting rooms. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that Paranoia features the worst hacking minigame I’ve encountered. Letters steadily fall, Guitar Hero style, down the screen. You have a few seconds to click the correct ones, but you have to click them at the moment the hit the bottom of the screen. If you fail – which is likely – you can’t attempt it again without enough hacking nanobots, and if you need to make more you need to go hunting for scrap to make them. It is an unfulfilling and frustrating loop.
Paranoia does have some good ideas. Your character has a Treason Meter which tracks how loyal Friend Computer thinks they are. It goes up whenever you go somewhere you shouldn’t, break anything, or answer a question with anything less than enthusiasm. It’s kept ticking over even if you’re trying to be a goody two shoes, because most missions will require you to commit
some kind of treason, whether that be hacking a door, or going into a crime scene you’ve been asked to investigate without the proper clearance.
Each mission is capped with a Prisoner’s Dilemma style scenario, where you’re invited to snitch on your fellow party members’ treasons before they get a chance to snitch on yours. It’s a nice idea, but I never never actually felt the weight of snitching up a team mate to have them vaporised, or the, well, paranoia of wondering if someone was going to grass on me.
The problem, I think, is that while successfully adapted pen and paper games like Dungeons & Dragons are very rules and lore heavy, the tabletop version of Paranoia relies more heavily on multiple players engaging in creativity and improvisation. I know of a player group who all spent an hour of their tabletop session unable to leave an unlocked room. A high-ranking executive took them there, painted the door handle of the exit yellow, and left. As none of the player characters had Yellow Authorisation, they happily spent ages figuring out silly possible solutions for escape without touching the doorknob.
Paranoia is geared towards this kind of playful arguments and collaborative storytelling more than it is simulation. You can’t easily replicate scenarios like the above in a video game, so to port the setting into a standard computer RPG requires… more. I do wish Paranoia: Happiness Is Mandatory had been a bit more daring in the attempt.