Games developed by Colosoftware
We provide a list of companies that developed abandonware games.
Select a company to view its games.
To make searching easier, use pagination by number or letter.
Burnin Rubber
On the cusp of a new home computer era, a small studio released Burnin Rubber for the Commodore 64 in 1983, a title that promised speed and adrenaline inside a modest square cartridge. Filmed in a smoky arcade glow translated to the living room, the game invited players to strap in for competitive laps across a handful of twisty circuits. The hardware danced around a tidy sprite budget, while the programmers exploited raster tricks and clever color cycling to push a convincing sense of velocity.
Controls offered responsive steering with keyboard or joystick, and players managed acceleration and brakes with a satisfying snap. The objective extended beyond crossing finish lines first; corners demanded throttle management and line discipline, while rival cars jostled for position. A simple pit of hazards offered peril: oil slicks, gullies, and occasionally bump traps that spun vehicles into new drift angles. Laps counted, time trials rewarded precision, and a rudimentary AI kept the asphalt restless in single player mode.
Graphically Burnin Rubber rode a top down perspective or behind the car depending on stage, using 8 by 8 sprites scaled cunningly to imply depth. The palette favored loud primary hues, with neon streaks that suggested motion. Sound came through the SID as gritty engine roars, clanks on metal, and tire screeches when the course demanded balance. Frame rate wobbled at times, yet the sense of speed rarely faltered, because the designers tuned the scrolling to keep the track ahead crisp.
Track variety spanned city streets, coastal ribbons, desert outlines and industrial boulevards, each with distinct hazards and shortcuts. A spare two player mode let friends duel, trading blows across a shared screen, a staple of home micro racing. The cartridge shipped with a battered manual full of tips, map glimpses, and occasional cheat codes that promised quicker triumphs. Although modest by 80s standards, Burnin Rubber cultivated a community that traded tips, high scores, and fan designed routes in newsletters and user groups.
Though quickly eclipsed by faster sequels, the title left a mark as a proof of concept that home computers could mimic arcade tempo without hardware leaps. Collectors remember its stubborn charm, the way a simple circuit of tracks could conjure hours of head to head excitement; the phrase burn in rubber became shorthand for pushing sprites to their edge. In the annals of early C64 racers, this speculative entry embodies the era when ambition outpaced silicon and players learned to read a screen for speed.
Petch
Petch arrived in 1985 on the Commodore 64, landing in that busy stretch when short, punchy games competed for a few evenings on the joystick. The title sounds playful, but the mood is anything but casual: you take control of Petch, a small, determined character, and press through a set of stages packed with traps, roaming threats, and tightly designed corridors. Rather than leaning on a deep story, the game sells itself through momentum and pressure, asking you to learn patterns quickly and keep moving even when the screen feels overcrowded with danger.
At the heart of Petch is a repetitive cycle that still manages to stay engaging. You navigate each area while timing your moves to slip past hostile obstacles, then focus on completing whatever objective the current stage demands, usually by grabbing key items and reaching a next point of progress. The level layouts emphasize narrow routes and sudden turnarounds, so route planning matters as much as reflexes. Encounters with enemies are not just about staying alive; many confrontations reward studying their rhythms, since they pause, surge, or reposition in ways that let observant players thread the needle.
Control is straightforward, yet it carries a realistic weight. The character responds quickly enough for precision hops and cautious edging along hazards, but the game demands clean inputs because mistakes often lead to immediate setbacks. That makes practice feel less like grinding and more like pattern acquisition: you replay sections to refine timing, adjust routes, and memorize which zones punish hesitation. Difficulty ramps through denser clutter and harsher punishment, not through unfair surprise alone, which is part of why dedicated players tended to keep at it.
Visually, Petch uses the 64’s sprite work to create readable motion even amid visual noise. Colors shift boldly between background areas and interactive elements, helping you track your position while enemies flash their presence. The scrolling and animation style are typical of the era, but the game’s greatest strength is clarity under stress. Sound effects provide sharp feedback, and the soundtrack does its job without drowning the action, giving each attempt a distinct sense of pace through SID-driven chimes and rhythmic tension.
Petch is remembered less as a headline classic and more as a sturdy example of mid-80s design: compact, challenging, and built for repeated runs. For anyone collecting late Commodore 64 releases, it offers a satisfying mix of arcade-like urgency and learnable stage structure, which explains why it keeps resurfacing in conversations among enthusiasts who enjoy games that feel tough yet fair.
