Pete's Expert Summary
So, the Human has acquired a box of tiny, text-covered squares which they apparently arrange on metal slabs to form what they consider "hilarious" sentences. They call it 'Ransom Notes,' a concept I understand intimately, as my affection is regularly held hostage for a price of no less than premium, flake-style tuna. While the sheer number of tiny, bat-able pieces is mildly intriguing, and the metal cards might slide nicely across the hardwood, the primary function seems to be generating loud, disruptive human noises. It's a blatant misuse of opposable thumbs that could otherwise be dedicated to chin scratches or can opening. A potential nuisance, with a low probability of being a worthy distraction from my scheduled seventeen-hour nap.
Key Features
- RANSOM NOTES: The game of hilariously terrible sentences! Players use word magnets to respond to outlandish prompts like “Tell someone you’ve clogged their toilet at a party” with just their limited pool of words
- WHAT’S INCLUDED: 840 high quality word magnets, 6 metal submission cards, 250 prompt cards, and instructions. With 250 absurd prompt cards and a new pool of words every time, this party game has infinite hilarious combinations and feels fresh every time you play
- EASY TO PLAY: Learn to play in under one minute, and even the shyest players will be creating laugh-out-loud word magnet responses right away. Just take a few handfuls of word magnets, flip over a prompt card, and start playing — no long instructions to explain!
- 3-6+ PLAYERS: While the game is made for 3-6 players, it’s equally hilarious when larger groups team up together. 30-90 min play time. Is it appropriate for everyone? Not really. While a majority of prompt cards are certainly suitable for all audiences, there are quite a few that are definitely not. BUT, if you do want to make it family friendly, pulling about 15-30% of the cards should make the game totally PG and playable for all!
- THE PERFECT GIFT: For birthdays, Christmas, Father's Day, or an anytime present for creative people. Bring it to Thanksgiving or your family / friend’s game night.
- Now with higher quality word magnets that break apart easily and quickly
- For more Game Night activities, check out our other hilarious and fun games like Puns of Anarchy, Open Relationships, and Charty Party!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The cacophony began shortly after sunset. The Human and her designated associates were hunched over the coffee table, emitting sharp, barking laughs that rattled the very air in my usually serene domain. I observed from my perch on the back of the sofa, a silent, gray-furred judge presiding over this foolishness. They were fiddling with little black and white rectangles, arranging them on metal trays and then presenting them to each other with an absurd amount of ceremony. The noise was offensive, the activity pointless. My disdain, however, was tinged with a flicker of professional interest. One of the humans, the loud one with the scratchy sweater, left his tray unattended to retrieve another beverage. It sat there, a canvas of opportunity. I saw the words scattered around it: ‘weird,’ ‘smelly,’ ‘little,’ ‘monster,’ ‘ate,’ ‘all,’ ‘the,’ ‘garbage.’ The prompt card they were giggling over had something to do with a roommate. A simple, pedestrian scenario. I, however, saw the potential for a far more compelling narrative. With the silence and grace befitting my station, I descended from the sofa. A gentle nudge of my nose sent the word ‘garbage’ skittering under the radiator. A deft flick of a single, perfectly manicured claw replaced it with a far more suitable noun. I rearranged their clumsy sentence, pushing the tiny magnetic blocks into a new, more truthful order. It was delicate work, requiring the precision of a hunter isolating a single mouse in a field of grass. I was creating not a joke, but a headline. A public service announcement. The human returned, picked up his metal card, and squinted. A slow grin spread across his face, entirely different from the earlier braying. He held it up for the others. "Hey, look what Pete did!" he announced. The huddle of humans leaned in, and a new sound filled the room—a murmur of appreciative chuckles. My masterpiece read: ‘weird smelly monster ate all the little cat.’ It was a masterpiece of minimalist horror, a stark warning of the dangers of an empty food bowl. They thought it was a charming accident, a cute antic. They were wrong. It was a threat. But a moment later, the Human, interpreting my art with a rare flash of insight, disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a small saucer of salmon pâté. The game, I concluded, was a crude instrument for inferior minds. But in the right paws, it could be a powerful tool of negotiation. It was, I decided, worthy of my supervision.
