The clock is ticking.

“Wires. It’s wires.”

Tick. Tick.

“Wires. Wires. Okay. Wires. How many wires?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Five wires. No. Six wires.”

Tick.

“Five or six wires?”

Tick.

“It’s five, I mean six wir-”

BOOM.

Sometimes, you keep talking and somebody explodes anyway.

Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes is a unique, asymmetrical multiplayer game in which one person interacts with and describes a bomb, and everybody else must consult a manual to help them defuse it before the thing detonates. This is much more complicated than you’d expect.

I was first introduced to the game when Dane and Michael recently decided to stream a session on Facebook, its inevitably explosive (sorry, not sorry) consequences prompting an emergency intervention by me, Special Agent For Fuck’s Sake How Are You Guys Even So Bad At This Omg. I want to tell you that I saved them from a smouldering apocalypse of gross incompetence, but I didn’t. And that’s okay, because gross incompetence is part of the fun. IT IS TOTALLY PART OF THE FUN SHUT UP HOW MANY BOMBS HAVE YOU EVEN DEFUSED BRENDA THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.

So when I got the PSVR, I immediately bought Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes because it’s such a blast (I’m not stopping now) and because I appreciate its anarchic subversion of virtual reality’s antisocial premise. The VR version works much the same as the regular version of the game, except obviously the person defusing the bomb wears the VR headset. This inherent isolation actually enhances the game significantly – it supports the game’s conceit of being on your own in a room with the bomb, and instead of the awkward constant rearranging of who’s sitting where and whatever so there’s no screen cheating or other covert intel ops, the other players are necessarily limited to verbal instructions. Which is, you know, kind of the point of the game.

Also, because the camera in this game is fixed, and movement restricted to pressing buttons and turning the bomb over, motion sickness isn’t a real problem in Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes. I’m keeping this one as part of the Vomit Chronicles series, however, because something about exceptions and rules, and also because stress-induced vomiting is a thing and it counts.

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