Here is a handy five-step process for turning your Nintendo DS system into a mousetrap:

1) Open lid at 45-degree angle (you can make it a bit wider if you have a really big mouse)

2) Smear touch screen with peanut butter (don't use cheese – that's a total myth)

3) Retreat, but stay where you can see it

4) Mouse will be attracted by peanut butter – wait for it to approach

5) Shoot it with your Desert Eagle.

“ I+was+not+exactly+whipping+myself+with+scorpions+of+envy+now+they+were+talking+to+my+mate,+but+their+contempt+and+assumptions+did+make+me+wonder.

Or, you can use your DS for playing games. And why wouldn't you? Not only is it the best handheld system ever made, it holds its own in a world dominated by graphically superior, more prolific, more expensive and far more highly powered home consoles. It's David, in a world of Goliaths.At one time or another, I have had every single console in this generation, and several others besides, pass through my secret den of gaming (it's not an actual secret den as such; more of a spare bedroom used for drying clothes) but the only one I go back to with day-by-day regularity is my little fliptop friend.Humble beginnings. It was 2005. I got my first Nintendo DS after a visit by my gaming shaman. This is a guy who has been responsible for many of the major gaming milestones in my life. He is like a less-fat-and-hairy Robbie Coltrane who shows up on the steps of a storm tossed lighthouse when you turn eleven and tells you you're going to be a famous wizard one day. Except, you know... with games.I was enchanted. I was enraptured.Moo Moo Farm had somehow transported itself through all of that space and time and was now held in my very hands. I could tell it was the start of something wonderful.It was 2009. Working a stand at a pop culture expo just after the local release of the DSi, a gaggle of those kids who find strength of voice in such havens approached me and asked what my favourite gaming system was. The DS, I replied.I was not quite prepared for their gangly ridicule.I felt like I had been cornered by near-sighted hyenas wearing cargo pants. Goodness! How they cackled at me. I was then subjected to the collective turning of their greasy, unkempt hairdos as they accosted a colleague who they deemed better able to engage on the subject of home consoles.'Wait,' I thought. 'I could have engaged on the subject of home consoles!' I was not exactly whipping myself with scorpions of envy now they were talking to my mate, but their contempt and assumptions did make me wonder. I started striking up conversations with random expo-goers as they passed through, chatting about their favourite consoles. Not what you'd call heavily scientific research, but the sample size was pretty decent.I got a lot of PS2s, many more Xbox 360s and about as many PS3s. A portion (mainly men in their late thirties with their polo shirts tucked into their trackpants) still did most of their gaming on the PC. No one said the DS (similarly, no one said the PSP). In fact, if asked in turn, answering with the DS caused most people's eyes to glaze over (at best) or act as though I had told them that in my spare time I was working on 2 girls 1 cup 2 (at worst).Granted, the environment was more or less dominated by the 'core'. Pockets clacked with ten-sided die, people wore Vote for Pedro t-shirts and games doing the briskest business at the stand were shooters and wrestling titles. But the lack of respect for the humble Nintendo DS still floored me.