BombChicken began as a sketch about readable chaos. If the factory can sing a beat, anyone can learn to dance through it.
A fizzing fuse as a timer; a stack of bombs as a stair. Two ideas, one cozy loop.
We tuned shapes, sounds, and spacing so your eyes learn first. No grinding, no pay-to-win—only practice, pattern-reading, and goofy hats.
Paper mockups, cardboard tiles, and a single tap that made a gentle fizz. We treated the sound as a metronome so players could “feel” timing before worrying about precision.
Takeaway: if timing is musical, confidence goes up and panic hops go down.
Stacks turned blockers into choices. With small ladders and pocket platforms, players began to sculpt routes instead of brute-forcing jumps.
Takeaway: tiny, deliberate builds feel smarter than tall, wobbly towers.
Rooms got personalities. Each lane taught timing through sights and sounds so players could read the beat without UI clutter.
Takeaway: readable audio–visual cues beat pop-ups and tooltips.
We tuned points to reward calm routing over grind. Clean rooms and stylish decisions matter more than risky detours.
Takeaway: fairness + clarity = players return “for one more run.”
No paywalls, no boosts. Skill, not spend, shapes your score.
Readable shapes and sounds teach faster than tooltips.
Beats you can hear and feel—glide on the swell, hop on the upbeat.
Close calls become stories. Hats add the laugh track.
Soft edges, bold reads, friendly contrast—built to work indoors and outdoors.
Small, stubborn about polish, and obsessed with readable fun.
Creative Director
Lead Programmer
Art Director
Audio Designer
Level Designer
QA Lead
No. Cosmetics only. Scores come from skill and rhythm, not spending.
We want you to learn by playing. Clean shapes and sounds make patterns obvious fast.
We’re exploring friendly time trials and ghost races—nothing competitive or toxic.
It makes it creative. You’re sculpting routes; mastery is in when and where to stack.
“A rhythm toy disguised as an arcade—gentle, smart, and silly.”
— Game Journal
“The fuse-as-timer idea feels instantly right.”
— Indie Radar
“I laughed when I lived. I laughed when I died.”
— Play Weekly
The first golden egg sketch was scribbled on a train ticket during a bumpy commute. We kept the wobbly outline because it looked happier than the “perfect” one.
Prototype note: the egg originally winked on every second beat.
Early builds used cardboard stair cutouts on the desk, and a phone flashlight as the “room light.” Stacking two pieces felt best—even before we wrote a single line of code.
Design rule born that day: “two first, add only if needed.”
We tuned the timing horns by humming over coffee. The café staff started counting with us—instant playtesters, instant groove.
Final tempo: a gentle two-count that calms panic hops.
