I admit I feel a bit guilty for trading away my copy of Draftosaurus, though not for the typical reason. To this day, everyone in our house refers to that lightweight Antoine Bauza set collector as ‘sweaty dinosaurs.’ We mostly enjoyed the breezy gameplay, but the game’s rhythm involved passing around a handful of dino-meeples that were oh-so warm by round’s end. The game earned its moniker. Trading that title away felt almost like trading away a pair of shared gym shorts. I hope the next owner knew the risks.
Three rounds into our first play of DroPolter, my kids reminisced: “I feel like we’re playing ‘sweaty dinosaurs’ again!”
They’re always after me lucky charms
As a ghost emerges from beneath your bed, you reach for your collection of lucky charms—a cookie, a gem, a ring, a key, and a shell. With charms closed in one hand, players reveal a card showing the particular charms that will subdue the ghost. The first player to drop the necessary charms onto the table, without dropping any additional fare, grabs the chunky ghost waiting in the middle of the table to win the round. The charmed hand is free to open, close, twist, and rotate, so long as it remains a single-handed drop.

The reward for victory is a wee, frustrating bell that then also enters the sweaty fray. Bells are good. The first player to gain five bells is declared the winner. The catch—as there must always be a catch—is in response to the question: what happens when you drop unintended items? Simply stated, you pick up and start over. If ever you drop one or more bells, however, they return to the supply with a tasty slice of your damaged pride.
The tension of DroPolter is in hanging on to the wee, earned bells that seem to attach themselves to surrounding objects, probably via beads of sweat.
Why’s everyone always laugh when I say that?
DroPolter is a brief bout of laughter for the family, a charming break for a heavier game night. The cards picture anywhere from one to four objects, creating a variety of challenges. Dropping four of five from a bell-free hand is a test of lightning recognition and dexterity. Likewise, singling out a unique piece and getting it to the table often results in hands crashing together in reaching for the ghost.

The game changes entirely with three or four bells in hand. Reaching for victory requires risk and occasional disappointment. But success is satisfying. The sound of bells on the table raises the sort of chagrin that is always accompanied by a smile. That smile is the key. DroPolter lives comfortably in its whimsical wheelhouse, producing smiles to match the one printed on the chunky ghost. Even if the game runs its full course to the bottom of thirty cards, it stops short of genuine frustration, inviting future play.
Small children and their small hands might struggle to hold and manipulate the objects. A twelve-year-old might crush your spirit with a nimble and capable palm. Everyone is focused and light of spirit. When we introduced the game to friends, they had traded for a copy before they left for the evening. Hopefully, it’s a new copy so they don’t have to think about the number of hands that have left their legacy of sweat behind.
Oink games rarely leave our house. They take up hardly any space, and so often deliver on their promises. DroPolter might be enough fun to warrant two copies, if only to experience ten cramped players reaching for a singular ghost. Regardless, fear not the confusion. DroPolter is a wispy winner.






