Nuclear Muffins
Two of my children started making a card game almost a decade ago. It’s called Nuclear Muffins, drawn in pencil and sometimes ink pen on slips of scrap paper. The cards are roughly square or rectangular, near the size of standard playing cards, but unevenly cut with scissors, every card a different size and shape, with whatever was on the back of the page still there. If a serious player wanted, they could memorize the typing on the backs… but these players, who have joyfully played the game and laughed many times, have not done that. Instead whenever the game is played, they make more cards, using whatever white copy paper is there.
The original plan was a combination of baked goods and nuclear missiles. My daughter said a cupcake looks like a nuclear explosion, hence the name. Cakes are worth one point but can hold up to five candles, each one a separate card worth another point. Cupcakes can hold one candle. Muffins cannot hold candles and are worth only one point. Nuclear missile cards are worth zero points but force the other players to discard cards. The E.U. and U.N. are represented, yes, the international organizations, with interesting effects. MAD cards exist: mutually assured destruction. They prevent players from using nuclear missiles.
Then there’s the expansions: Candle, Nuclear, Pastry, Star, Owl City songs, Bomb Brigaders (a Minecraft mini-game), Kingdom Rush (medieval tower defense), People (character cards), and Cheeto (a friend’s online moniker), with more uncategorized cards. Each card has a point value, stated effects, and a picture, hand drawn by whoever made the card. My daughter frequently asked other people to contribute art, and if they wanted, write whole new cards with different effects. She asked them to sign their drawings. Since the drawings are small, the signatures are just tiny initials. I’ve drawn several, and my husband, who hated to draw, at least one. Many pictures are jokes; the “my hand sucks” card (discard your cards and draw new ones) shows a person’s disembodied hand with lots of OW! OW! ow! ow!
Actual gameplay varies every session. It starts with five cards for each player, the rest in a draw pile. You draw one card and play one card. First person to have 20 points in the cards on the table in front of him wins. There is a discard pile which expands and contracts during play; Loot the Trash allows removing one card from the discard, and Recycling moves discarded cards to the bottom of the draw pile. Making new cards to change gameplay is part of the fun.
My children are scanning the cards into computer files today; some cards, just paper, are badly wrinkled and a little grimy. The early pencil drawings are faded or smeared. They want to preserve this game. It has provided a lot of fun and companionship as they persuaded people to play it with them. I’m resisting the urge to help with preservation; I provided a plastic box for the cards a long time ago. I don’t want to take over, and I’m afraid I would. So I’m listening and advising. They tried gluing a couple papers to index cards, with mixed results. Their older sister advised removing blemishes and fixing the contrast in an art program on computer, then printing clearer cards on cardstock. I advised scanning all the cards into the computer at once, then altering the contrast one card at a time later. That way the cards will be available to play with, not waiting in line to be scanned.
I anticipate that, like many other projects started in homeschool, they’ll never finish completely. There will always be more cards to draw and add. New friends will want to tweak gameplay by adding their ideas. The process is the thing, not the end product.
