All over the globe, factories are falling into ruin, economies have fallen apart, interest rates are rising, the TV companies are out of business and (worst of all) milk production has come to a standstill. No more Shredded Wheat for you, mate. So what's behind all this? A band of deadly, virus-like aliens which have infected every part of the planet with their horrible disease, that's what. Pretty nasty, huh? So absolutely, horrendously nasty, in fact, that the combined efforts of the army, the navy, the air force, the fire service, the police, Machomen and Postman Pat have been totally liquidised in their attempt to stop it.
Just when you thought that the end of the world was nigh, when everybody thought it was OK to eat lots of cream cakes 'cos they were gonna die tomorrow anyway, a little speck became visible in the sky. Was it a bird? Was it a helicopter? Was it a speck of chocolate on your glasses? Nope, da da daaaaaa – it was Space Harrier. Yeaaah!
With nothing but a laser and a jetpack to his name, he battles through waves of ugly looking aliens, dodges dangerous missiles, survives end-of-level tussles with great, big enormous fire-breathing dragons, tries to stop himself from splatting, slap bang into the nearest obstacles, get his eyebrows singed and still survives. Some selfless guy, huh? Not really. He just couldn't face another day without three Shredded Wheat.