A MESSAGE TO CONTENT CREATORS

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Hey there. We know your time is tighter than your bandwidth during a surprise update, so we’ll be honest: this is long. But if you give us five minutes and a little scroll wheel love, we promise it’ll be worth it.

This is from the heart. Possibly a bit unhinged. Definitely written at 3am. And absolutely a window into why playing our games on your channel isn’t just helpful—it might be something that can’t be replicated elsewhere.

We’ve worked so hard for so long, and we know you don’t owe us anything at all.

All we ask for, is that you please try to remember a point in time when you just wanted five minutes of someone else’s attention, and you just wished someone would give you a chance. A time where you worked SO hard and you felt like giving up, and you just wished someone would give you an opportunity. It would mean the absolute world to us if you’d continue reading below:


Over thirty games. Countless questions. Enough existential pondering to make a philosopher weep into their wine. And somehow—somehow—you lot stuck around. You played. You listened. You felt. Even when we didn’t ask you to.

And now?

Well, now it’s our turn to be the emotionally exposed weirdos at the party.

Let’s cut through the dramatic violin music and get right to it:

We’re not a corporation.
We’re not a slick operation with espresso machines and ergonomic chairs.

We are, quite literally, a few slightly unhinged people working in the middle of the night, high on self-loathing and instant noodles, pouring every drop of energy into games that might never make us rich but damn well better mean something.

Most months, we spend more making games than we earn from them. Which is fine, because what’s money, really, besides paper you light on fire to keep the dream warm?

On a good day, we make about $0.23 an hour.
On a bad day? We call that Tuesday.

We don’t do this for yachts or golden bidets. We do it because we believe—naively, recklessly, romantically—that in a world drowning in content, there’s still value in making something about YOU. Something that punches people in the guts and gives them a laugh on the way down.

We pay artists, musicians, voice actors and specialists. And then we pay ourselves last, if at all. Because they deserve it, and frankly, we can survive off caffeine and vindication.

We make games that feel.
Not games that cater.
Not games that pander.
Games that prod at your soft parts and whisper, “You alright in there, champ?”

Sometimes, people cry. Sometimes, they get mad. Sometimes, they stare into the middle distance like they’ve seen a ghost made of bad decisions. And to that we say: perfect.

We’re not here to please everyone. We're here to reach someone.


And if you’re a content creator, hello, you beautiful algorithmic beast.

Yes—obviously it helps us if you stream our games. Duh. Every time someone with a following plays our game, one of our team gets their wings. Or at least an extra energy drink.

But it can really help all parties.

Players love seeing their favorite creators wrestle with personal questions. They love shouting at the screen, “THAT’S what you’d choose?!” They love comparing their results with yours and bonding over your weird choices.

It creates desperately needed connection in a world lacking such. It makes your audience feel like they’re in the room with you, laughing, cringing, judging silently.

So whether you’re looking to fill 30 minutes of airtime, spark some deep chat with your community, or just want to scream “NO” at morally ambiguous questions while chat screams back “YES,” this is your moment.

And if you don’t believe us, just take a stroll through YouTube. Search for The Test. See what the community’s saying. Spoiler: they’re the most supportive and lovely people you could imagine. Unreasonably lovely. The kind of lovely that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, the internet isn’t a complete wasteland after all.

We’ve given away games for free and made a handful of free games so those who couldn't afford to play, still got the opportunity. We’ve sold them cheap, real cheap. We do that not because we think they’re worth less—but because we know what it’s like to have nothing and still want to feel something.


So here’s what we’re asking for:

One try.
If you love it? Great.
If you hate it? Fair.
But someone else might love it. You might really love it. And you’ll never know unless you try.

We’re not asking for your money.
We’re asking for your curiosity.
Your time.
Your heart, if you’re willing.
And if you give us that—if you feel something—then all the sleepless nights and broken chairs and unpaid hours will have been worth it.

Thank you for playing.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for making the pain feel a little less stupid.

We’re Randumb Studios.
And we’re not stopping. Not until the lights go out, the server crashes, and someone pries the keyboard from our cold, carpal-tunnelled hands.

With love, sarcasm, and a mild vitamin deficiency,

– The Mad Bastards at Randumb Studios

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The Test

The Test is a social experiment that can be classified as an atmospheric, psychological-simulation with horror elements. Dive into your own psyche and get answers to questions you've kept hidden deep, down inside. Unlock your mind in ways never done before and experience new found knowledge simply by taking, "The Test."

You will answer a series of questions that will reveal things from deep within. These questions may make you uncomfortable, but with great knowledge comes great sacrifice. Can you make it all the way through The Test, and if you do, are you sure you want the answers you seek?

Features:

• Short and sweet
  
• The only game of its kind
  
• Very psychological
  
• Sit back, relax, and answer Yes or No questions to reveal hidden truths.
  
• Super affordable for a unique experience