Good friends.
Bad bluffs.
Great nights.

The phone is a live bomb with a hidden fuse. On your turn you get one tiny challenge — tap the dots, copy the beat, spot the pair — then hand the phone straight to the next player and they tap GOT IT. Fumble a challenge and the fuse burns faster. Whoever is holding the phone when it blows loses a life; the last player standing wins.

A question lands in the middle of the table and every player has a giant buzzer on their edge. First finger down gets five seconds to answer out loud — then anybody else taps RIGHT or WRONG, because the room adjudicates, not the app. Right is +100 plus a speed bonus, wrong is -50 and you are locked out of that question. Three rounds: Speed, Pictures, and a secret-wager final that can flip the whole scoreboard.

One player gets a secret prompt and draws it. Pass the phone: the next player sees only the drawing and writes what they think it is. The next sees only those words and draws them. When everyone has had a turn the whole chain is revealed step by step — then you vote for the funniest mutation.

Two smugglers sit opposite each other, each hiding three crates of cargo. Every turn you both secretly pick one action — inspect, sell, steal, hide, bribe, swap, move, accuse, or call a SHAKE DOWN that makes them physically shake a crate so you can hear how heavy it is — and they all resolve at once. Contraband pays the most but gets seized if it is still in your hold at the final checkpoint. Say anything you like: the game never confirms a word of it. Most credits wins.

Lay the tablet flat and take the edge in front of you — a sushi belt runs right around the table and everyone eats from the same stream. Your ticket lists three dishes: drag them off the belt onto your plate before someone else takes them. Grab the wrong thing and your plate is frozen for two seconds, which is a long time when the belt is speeding up, cloches are hiding dishes and a rush order needs four donuts right now.

Fold the phone and sit opposite each other. One of you gets a live bomb — a countdown, a serial number, batteries, indicator lights and three to five modules to disarm. The other gets the manual, and never sees the bomb at all. Every rule needs something only the other player can see, so the only way through is to describe, ask and argue fast. Three strikes and it detonates; roles swap on the next bomb.

Everyone gets a secret mission — make Sam say "really?", get Alex to hand you something — then the phone goes face down and you all just… talk. Pull it off without anyone noticing and tap I DID IT in secret. Think someone is working you? Hit CATCH SOMEONE and call it out. At the end every mission is revealed and every weird question from the last twenty minutes suddenly makes sense.

Two agents, one device, five short co-op missions — cut wires, relay codes, hold a reactor steady. Before each mission you privately read your orders: loyal, or double agent with a secret sabotage job. A saboteur MAY be aboard — about one mission in three has none at all, so trust is a real choice. Afterwards you both vote TRUST or ACCUSE at the same time, then the roles are revealed. Finishing missions scores, sabotaging unseen scores, calling a clean mission scores — and accusing an innocent partner costs you.

Stand the phone between you in tent mode — each side sees a different secret objective, like "get them to say 'honestly'" or "make them cross their arms". Then just talk, and steer the conversation into your trap without giving it away. Hit CLAIM the second you think you've got them; they confirm or dispute, and a busted claim costs you the whole card's value. Land it and you may ACCUSE them of their secret card — name it right for +1, name it wrong and it costs you a point. First to the target score wins.

Everyone puts one finger on their coloured start pad and their thief sticks to it. Slide to sneak — hold still to hide, lift off and you freeze on the spot. Two of you hold the paired switches to open doors, one of you holds the vault for three seconds, then every thief has to reach the exit before the alarm meter fills or the clock runs out. Yellow patrols walk a loop, orange sentries sweep a post and pink chasers sprint at whoever they spot — the gallery cam replays every route you took at the end.

Everyone takes an edge of the screen. Drag backwards from your own fighter to aim, then let go to fire it across the arena. Smash the others off the edge — or into the bomb, the crumbling tiles or the whirlpool — to score. Knock-outs win rounds; falling off on your own is nobody's fault but yours.

Everyone takes an edge of the table and defends the gap between their two flippers. Tap the left or right half of your side to flip — both at once if you have to. Bumpers, the centre star and the rollover lanes all score, and the bumpers pay whoever hit the ball last. A ball through your gap costs a life; lose them all and your gap seals shut while everyone else plays on.

Two players, one device, one fold. Drag your blob around your own half and flick it to send the puck — or a ticking bomb — screaming across the hinge into their side. Hold still for half a second to charge a smash, then release for a shockwave. Every round after the first rolls a random arena mutator, and the first to take the set wins the match.

One player holds the phone flat on their forehead so the whole room can read the card — they can't. Everyone else gives clues using the round's rule: act it, hum it, do an accent or use a single word. Tilt the phone down the moment they say it, tilt it up to skip. Sixty seconds each, most cards wins the room.

Crowd around the screen — everyone owns the edge in front of them. Objects appear, then a giant prompt: "Touch something blue", "Do NOT touch red", "Touch nothing". The first correct hand scores +2, later correct hands +1, a wrong grab costs a point and locks you out for a second and a half. The trick rounds are where the match is won.

A question with four answers goes round the room and everybody picks in secret — on a phone you pass and play, on a tablet everyone taps at once against a five second clock. Score a point for every answer that matches the majority of the herd. Pick something nobody else did and the Black Sheep is yours: minus a point, and you hold it until some other loner takes it off you. Every fourth question is a bonus: call the majority answer for double points.

Short physical challenges played with the fold itself: fling a frog by closing gently but quickly, hold a target angle dead still, saw inside a safe band, pour by tilting, catch eggs by steering with the hinge. Each challenge is a prompt, a 3-second countdown and one shot for up to three stars. Play solo for a score attack or pass the device back and forth in two-player hot seat.

Pass the phone: everyone secretly sees the same word — except the impostor, who gets nothing at all or a sneakily similar word. Go around the table giving one-word clues, then vote for whoever sounded off. Catch the impostor and the whole group scores; survive the vote and the impostor cleans up. Caught impostors get one last shot at guessing the real word.

Tent the phone and sit either side of the hinge — your half is your cup, and only you can see your dice. Shake together to roll, then bid how many of a face are on the table counting BOTH hands ("four 3s"). Raise the bid or call LIAR!, and whoever is wrong drops a die; nail the count exactly with SPOT ON and you win one back. Ones are wild. First player with no dice left loses.

A moderator-free Werewolf for 5 to 12 people and one phone. Hold the screen to peek at your secret role, then pass it on. Every night the phone calls everyone by name in a new order — wolves pick a victim, the seer inspects, the doctor shields, and everybody else gets a decoy task that takes exactly as long, so no one can read the room by who moved. At dawn you bury the dead, argue, and vote someone out.

Pass the phone around. When it's your turn a single word flashes — STOP! TAP! DON'T! — and you get one four-second microgame to nail it. Stop the needle on 100, pop the balloon at its biggest, hold exactly two seconds, and whatever you do, do not press the big red button. Three lives each, twenty microgames, and the whole room watching you fumble. Last one standing wins.

Everyone secretly gets $40 and two secret objectives, then strange items go under the hammer. Open lots are bid on a shared screen; sealed lots are passed around so nobody sees your number. Pay for what you win, keep what you don't spend, and hide why you desperately need the haunted toaster. At the end every objective is revealed and the whole evening finally makes sense.

Everyone gets the same prompt and 30 seconds to draw it — on a tablet you all scribble at once on your own slice, on a phone you pass it round. The drawings shuffle into the middle and the room votes for the best one: every vote you get is a point, the most-voted drawing is worth two. In Odd One Out a secret player was handed a slightly different prompt; spot them from the drawings to score, or escape unnoticed for three. Relay is exquisite corpse: head, body and legs by three players who only ever see a sliver of the part above.

Flick the big wheel and let it choose: a question, a dare, a thirty-second challenge, a seat swap or free points. A second wheel of player chips picks who has to do it. Doing it scores a point, skipping costs one — and nobody has to type a thing. Play until someone hits the target, or all night.

Hide three subs on your own side of the hinge, then hunt your rival's at the same time — there are no turns. A sonar charge refills every few seconds: tap a cell to ping. A hit tears a hull open, a miss tells you how many cells away the nearest boat is. Every twenty seconds you may silently slide one undamaged sub somewhere new, which turns everything your rival wrote down into a rumour.

Put the tablet flat on the table and crowd around it — everyone owns the stations on their own edge. Alarms light up a station in the middle AND on its edge, and shout the name of the player who has to fix it, which is almost never the one sitting next to it. Tap sequences, dials, sliders, pumps and two-person holds all have to be cleared before the shared meter drains to zero. The last twenty seconds are not survivable politely.

Everyone grabs an edge of the device and tilts it together — the marble rolls on the real accelerometer. Each player owns a coloured gate inside the maze that only opens while they hold their HOLD pad, so you have to tilt AND call the holds out loud. Fall in a hole and the marble resets, costing five seconds. In Traitor mode one of you secretly wants that marble in a hole — vote at the end to find out who.

Every player rules one edge of the table and grows toward the capital in the middle. Each round you get one order inside a 20 second window: expand, fortify, raid, trade, spy, form a pact or break one. Tiles, villages, the capital and your secret objective all score victory points. Talk all you like - only a pact token is binding. The whole match is capped at six minutes, and the last sixty seconds are SUDDEN DEATH: every kingdom's tribute doubles, so the map can flip right at the end.

A spectrum card comes up — "Overrated vs Underrated" — and a target is hidden somewhere on the dial. Only the Psychic can see it, and they get exactly ONE clue, said out loud. Everyone else argues, then drags the needle to where they think the target sits. Dead centre is 4 points, the next band 3, the outer band 2. Everybody takes a turn as the Psychic; the best mind-reader wins.