Truth or Dare
If a player chooses “truth,” they must reveal how much money they make. If they choose “dare,” they must hand someone their phone and let them look at every tab they have open on their browser.
Never Have I Ever
Each player reveals which of their goals from their twenties they were never actually able to accomplish until everyone except one person is crying.
One player selects a number between one and ten, while another determines whether they will live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house, but in this economic climate, let’s face it, even a shack seems pretty aspirational. The game detours into a conversation about housing shortages, rising interest rates, and the general concept of real estate.
Would You Rather
When the pizza is delivered, a player must decide whether to pass on eating or indulge in a few moments of delicious bliss, only to endure debilitating heartburn later.
Spin the Bottle
A full bottle of wine is placed in the center of the circle. One player spins, and whoever the wine bottle points to must drink more than two glasses without apologizing that wine makes them sleepy, and they have to be up early to shop for a new ottoman.
Players are shoulder to shoulder in a three-hundred-square-foot studio apartment, which the host insists they’re only staying in temporarily. After a few minutes of awkward chit-chat, it becomes clear that the game has been in progress the whole time.
The starting player whispers the last news headline they heard into the ear of the person next to them. That person then whispers to the person next to them, and so on, until the final player is revealed to be a member of QAnon and this has been a demonstration of how easily misinformation could spread if you don’t keep up to date with NPR Morning Edition like a sensible adult.
Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board
Each player must describe their last workout, where their joints hurt, and what exercises they’re currently doing to stretch their lower backs.
Seven Minutes in Heaven
One player enters a closet alone, without their partner, children, or pet, for seven minutes of pure peaceful “me” time.