Collecting big box PC games is basically the nerd equivalent of hoarding Fabergé eggs — except instead of jeweled treasures, you’ve got a wall of cardboard bricks the size of cereal boxes that once contained a single floppy disk and 200 pages of manuals.

There’s something magical about them, though. Modern games give you a digital download code; big box games gave you a phone book of installation instructions, a map, a novella explaining the backstory, and maybe even a floppy with “shareware” just to tease you. Buying Myst back then felt like adopting a small library.

The boxes themselves are a workout program. Stack a few dozen on a shelf and suddenly you’re living inside a Jenga tower of DOS-era nostalgia. Move apartments? Congratulations, you’ve just volunteered to carry 75 pounds of King’s Quest across town. And of course, the one you want is always on the top shelf, behind Flight Simulator 98 and Oregon Trail Deluxe, so now you’re climbing like Indiana Jones in a temple made of cardboard.

And the collector’s mindset is hilarious: “Yes, I know I own Doom in every format ever made, but this one has the rare sticker variant AND the slightly less crushed corner. Totally worth $200.”

In the end, collecting big box PC games isn’t just about the games — it’s about preserving an era where packaging was bigger than the monitor you played it on. Plus, let’s be honest: half the joy is showing off to your friends like, “See this box? This one game required 12 floppy disks. TWELVE. Kids these days don’t know the struggle.”