Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to have acquired a box of organized chaos from a brand called "The World Game," which is a rather grandiose name for a collection of plastic bits. This "Super Skills" contraption is, ostensibly, a game for the loud primates to prove their supposed dexterity to one another. It involves a bizarre assortment of tasks using cups, balls, dice, and even chopsticks. From my superior vantage point, it looks like a recipe for noisy frustration and dropped objects. However, I must concede a certain professional interest. The small, bouncy balls have potential, the dice are perfectly sized for batting under the radiator, and the rope is a classic. The "game" itself is a waste of my time, but the deconstructed parts are a veritable treasure trove of opportunities for solo, far more sophisticated, play.
Key Features
- Super Fun - Show off your skills in various types of challenges. Be the first player to complete 10 challenges and win the game. An award-winning game in the board game, toy category. Fun games for girls and boys.
- Diverse Challenges - Stack the cups into a pyramid while blindfolded. Bounce a ball of a wall behind your back and catch it. Balance 3 dice on a chopstick and a lot more. Team building games for work adult or game night games for groups adult.
- For Kids & Adults - Super Skills is perfect for a family nights, groups of friends or team buildings. It can be played indoors or outdoors with a hard floor. A perfect gift idea for teenage boys and girls. Family game night will never be the same.
- 4 Play Modes - Complete the challenge by yourself, together with your teammate, go head to head with another player or beat the whole group. Win and get the ultimate bragging rights.
- Contents - 120 challenge cards, 10 cups, 5 balls, 4 dice, 2 chopsticks, blindfold, sand timer, rope, scoreboard and a dry-erase marker.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The evening’s tranquility was shattered by the rattling of plastic. My human and her companions, with all the subtlety of a herd of wildebeest, unboxed the source of the clamor. They spread the contents across the floor like offerings to a god of cheap manufacturing: cups of garish colors, little bouncy spheres, hard little cubes with dots. They called it "game night." I called it a disruption. I remained aloof on my velvet cushion, observing their primitive ritual with the disdain it deserved. The first challenge began. One of the humans, the one who always smells of strange hand lotion, had to bounce a ball off the far wall, behind his back, and catch it. He failed. The ball skittered away, coming to a rest near the leg of the coffee table, just inside my sphere of influence. On his second attempt, the ball again went wide. As he scrambled for it, I extended a single, impeccably groomed paw and gave the sphere a gentle, almost imperceptible tap. It rolled silently under the sofa, into the dark abyss where forgotten things go to die. The human groaned. I permitted myself a small, internal smile. My magnum opus, however, came during the "stacking the dice with chopsticks" event. My human, bless her simple heart, was concentrating fiercely, her tongue sticking out in a most undignified manner. A die wobbled precariously. The others held their breath. I saw my moment. With the flick of my tail—a movement of pure, fluid dynamics they could never hope to replicate—I created a subtle breeze. It was just enough. The die tumbled. The tower collapsed. A collective sigh filled the room. They blamed gravity, the clumsy oafs. They had no idea they were merely puppets, and I, Pete, was the puppeteer, pulling the invisible strings of physics and fate. They eventually packed the game away, their laughter and groans fading as they returned the instruments of their folly to their cardboard tomb. They thought they had competed against each other. The simpletons. They had been competing against a master, a gray-furred specter of elegant interference. This "Super Skills" game, as a structured activity, is beneath me. But as a toolkit for conducting a symphony of subtle sabotage? It is, I must admit, a masterpiece. And the box makes for a rather fine napping dais. It is worthy.