Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite capacity for finding new ways to ignore me, has acquired yet another box of decorated cardboard. This one, insultingly branded 'Exploding Kittens' (a physiological impossibility and a slur against my kind), is apparently a game where they pretend to be 'therapists.' Having observed my human's attempts to interpret my tail twitches as complex emotional turmoil, I can confirm they are all, indeed, horrible therapists. The game involves making 'funny' comics, which translates to loud, obnoxious human noises that disrupt my slumber. While the art by 'The Oatmeal' has a certain chaotic charm I recognize from the glowing screen, the only real playability for a creature of my refinement would be batting a stray card into oblivion. Otherwise, it's a complete waste of perfectly good napping time.
Key Features
- How to Play: WHO KNEW THERAPY COULD BE SO FUNNY? In this adult card game you’ll create a comic about therapy with a Question, Answer, and a Treatment. Whoever puts down the funniest Treatment card wins a point. The first to 3 points wins. It's a fun and hysterical addition to your party card games collection.
- What's Included: ENDLESS LAUGHS & REPLAYABILITY. With 80 Question Cards, 158 Answer Cards, and 200 Treatment Cards, this game is different every time you play. This makes it a popular choice among adult card games and card games for adults, offering endless replayability for every game night.
- Who's It For? THE PERFECT ADULT PARTY GAME for 3-8 players aged 17+. Can you get through a round without ugly laughing? This is a must-have for adult games for game night and a fantastic addition to your collection of party card games.
- Where to Play: WANT TO BREAK THE ICE AT PARTIES? This is a card game for adults that’s great for pregaming, large gatherings, road trips, vacations, or for giving as a gift to anyone who appreciates a funny card game (or who needs therapy!). Perfect for all adult party games and games for adults.
- Our Story: UNIQUE ART FROM A VIRAL WEBCOMIC. Each card is written and illustrated by The Oatmeal, the brain behind the internet’s favorite comics and a cofounder of Exploding Kittens which became the most backed Kickstarter campaign of all time.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The evening began with the usual betrayal. Instead of the customary lap-warming and chin-scratching session, my human produced the glossy white box. The air, which should have been thick with the scent of my impending dinner, was instead pierced by the crinkle of cellophane and the cacophony of human mirth. I watched from my throne atop the bookshelf, a silent, gray-furred judge presiding over a court of fools. They laid out the little rectangles of paper, their loud chatter forming a meaningless drone. It was, I deduced, a ritual of self-distraction, and I was having none of it. My disdain, however, wavered when a card fluttered from the table and landed face-up on the rug. I descended from my perch with the silent grace befitting my station and padded over to investigate. The card depicted a crudely drawn human lamenting, "My cat keeps staring at me. What does it want?" It was a 'Question' card. A jolt went through me, a flicker of profound understanding. This wasn't a game. This was a Rosetta Stone for deciphering the bizarre inner workings of the bipedal mind. They were finally asking the right questions, even if they were too simple to find the answers themselves. I positioned myself under the coffee table, a hidden observer at a group confessional. The human who had dropped the card drew an 'Answer' card: "It's plotting to wear your skin." A ripple of laughter went through the room. Amateurs. My plots are far more sophisticated and involve the strategic relocation of their car keys. Then came the 'Treatment' cards. One suggested "Give it a tiny, threatening hat." Another, "Learn to meow 'I come in peace'." They were revealing their deepest anxieties and most pathetic coping mechanisms, all while thinking they were merely playing. They packed the box away hours later, oblivious. They believed they had shared a few laughs. I knew better. I had conducted my first, and most successful, diagnostic session. This "Horrible Therapist" game was not a toy for me to pounce on, but a professional tool. It was a window into the simple, fragile psyche of my staff. While the cards themselves are worthless as objects of play, the intelligence they provide is invaluable. The box has, against all odds, proven its worth. It can stay. For now.
