The Steal

Eighteen letters, everybody typing at once, and the letters you spell with become yours — including the ones somebody else is holding. 1 to 8 people, about 10 minutes.

It is the only game here where being ahead is something that happens to you rather than something you have. Your score is the letters in front of you at the buzzer, and while you are reading this sentence somebody can take four of them with one word. That makes the last thirty seconds worth more than the first two minutes, and it means nobody at the table is ever out of it.

Everybody plays at once and nothing waits for anybody, so a table of eight has no turn order and no dead air — which is the thing that usually breaks a word game on a call. There is nothing to trace and no grid: any letters on the table, in any order, four or more.

The ceiling is deliberate and it is what keeps a mixed table together. A five takes a four and a six takes anything, so past six a long word is not safer, only bigger. Somebody whose English is their third language and who reliably finds sixes can contest every tile on the board, which is not true of the word games that reward length without a cap.