Ice Breaker
Answer a few questions about yourselves, then guess how the room compares.
Answer a few questions about yourselves, then guess how the room compares.
Everyone answers a handful of questions about themselves on their own phone. Those answers become the round data: the display puts one of them up and the room guesses whose it is, or how the group as a whole answered. It ends with a ceremony that names the connections the room did not know it had.
It is the only game here whose content is the people playing it. Every other game ships with its material; this one is empty until the room fills it, which is why it works on a table of strangers and why it plays differently with the same group twice.
The canvas is split into zones. Draw together, guess together.
Vote your team through a maze race. Majority rules, literally.
Pitch a startup, take it public, then trade, short and sabotage your way to the top.
One director, blind text clues, chaotic art. Guess the brief, then judge it.
Answer a blitz prompt, then swipe through duels to crown the funniest.
Two teams, one rope, one beat: keep time and drag the ratchet your way.
Master five arcade cabinets with your crew and race for the ticket jackpot.
Pick where the falling piece should land: the server averages your whole team into one placement.
Crazy golf for teams. Everyone drags a line blind: agree and you putt where you meant to, argue and the ball picks a line out of your cone.
Your team draws a four-beat story onto one picture — nobody sees the whole sentence. Then the room guesses it.
Estimate a number nobody knows, then bet on where the truth lands in the crowd.
Draw what you read, describe what you see. Five hops later, watch the wreck.
A bumper-kart race in cars of two: one steers, one drives. Same track, everyone at once, oil everywhere.
Free for a full party night, no card, no download. The room code appears the moment you open it.
Start a party