Another Day At The Number Factory

On a chilly Sunday eve, the narrow halls of my humble abode were filled with loud guffaws and bombastic laughter. My friend and I were playing a recently released plink0-like roguelite, and it was the most fun I had with a videogame this year. Our exclamations were probably credited to generational brainrot. Two 30-year-olds were laughing heartily while stating incomprehensible utterances such as: "These numbers are getting so big!", "Yea: let's eat those hot dogs and the pickle rat!", "Now THAT'S what I call PEGGING!", "Yea the kazoo is way better than the burning skull", "No no: eat the kidney bean and go for the lard tart!". But those are just common sayings for real nubbers such as ourselves.

When I showed my fellow writers at Superjump Magazine Nubby's Number Factory, the debut release of solo games developer MogDog, one of my colleagues stated it "looked like a sequel to Baldi's Basics". This comparison is not far-fetched: a quick look at the game's Steam page and it seems to have all the vibes of a shitpost. You are met with a smorgasbord of grotesque 3D UI design and backgrounds that would fit right at home in internet pages of old or as one of the slides of my middle-school PPT presentations. A visual style that belies both an entrancing aesthetic experience and a captivating gameplay loop.

Nubby's is my frontrunner for 2025 GOTY. In the same month I finished Avowed, brewed tea and relaxed with Wanderstop, and played a secret third game I am not allowed to talk about yet, Number Factory was the only experience that permeated my nervous system.

I want to write about Nubby's Number Factory to get more people to play this visual oddity – a game that seems pulled from the days when our internet ran on telephone lines, injected with the ethos of contemporary game design. Your favorite number makes an appearance in this game. The numbers in this game get HUGE. For the price of 5 dollars, you too can hurl a sentient ball into numbered pegs on a board to prevent the heat death of the universe.

I work at a number factory supervised by a kindly man named Tony. My job is to throw my friend Nubby, a ball with an expressionless face, into numbered pegs on a vertical board. These pegs contain numbers. If Nubby hits them, the number on the peg is added to my round score and the number on the peg is halved. If a peg is reduced to 1 and Nubby hits it again, the peg disappears.

If Nubby falls into the abyss: he dies, the board gets restocked, and another Nubby takes his place. During a restock, pegs get added to the board and combined with other pegs, doubling their numbers, as well as placing coins in my pocket. If I surpass the round score, multiple restocks can occur. If I don't like how the board is set up, I can reset the order of the pegs once per life. If my shift doesn't go well, and I lose all of Nubby's lives without reaching quota, the Sun gets really sad and explodes. This is why my job is important. This is why I need to get my numbers up.

The setup is simple, but the game gets fucked up when items and perks get thrown into the mix.

Summon orbs of monstrous meat to float across the board, adopt a friendly rock to double your lowest-numbered pegs, and rain down jacks like you're doing a bombing run. Unlock all your item slots and head into the bakery. Feed a hungry mouth treats for rewards such as extra lives, coins, and try to go for the rare tart that upgrades your right-most item at the cost of your left-most item.

Perks are run-permanent, unsellable objects that trigger the various items you have depending on certain conditions. This is how Nubby's plays with synergy. You can have perks that trigger your more powerful items, and with a good prayer to RNGesus, you can make those numbers so large and get restocks numbering in the hundreds or thousands.

This is another game in the vein of Balatro or Luck Be A Landlord, not only in the sense a simple game of chance is injected with complexity and nuance, but in the way the game's mechanics invite you to break them entirely.

I was once able to devise what I deemed "The Infinite Bounce". Through a cheesy combination of items and perks, and a lucky pegboard setup, I was able to trigger all my items that doubled the numbers on the pegs, creating a situation where the numbers would continuously double and Nubby didn't have a chance to pop them. Nubby was stuck in a liminal space, bouncing for eternity. The clickety-clacks of the pegs being rapidly hit by the living ball created a symphony of noise music. The score reached its maximum restock value of 9999x, and Nubby kept bouncing. I ask you, what is the worst fate: to die after a short life down a tumble of pegs, or to bounce eternally to prevent the sun from extinguishing? I hope Nubby can forgive me for the existential torment I put him through.

I was introduced to Nubby's Number Factory when I was asking friends, colleagues and social media for hidden gems, underrated games and must-plays – a regular endeavor of mine during the quarterly Steam sales. My good friend/excellent writer/main inspiration for ...Stop Caring offered up Nubby's as a tentative and modest rec, stating she's been playing it lately and found it "charming".

The visual style of Nubby's Number Factory initially threw me off. I had a gut reaction to the visual vomit of contrasting colors and shiny 3D art. I made a joke to another friend: "This looks like the type of game a Cruelty Squad NPC plays in their spare time", to which they responded "Nah, more like a Hypnospace Outlaw game, like, in one of the sites you visit", to which a third friend interjected "This looks like a game that appears on an episode of a 90's Nickelodeon show that one of the main characters gets obsessed with as a plot point.''

First impressions can be deceiving. In truth, I vibe with Nubby's Number Factory's aesthetics on a deep, spiritual level. It's quirky, playful, colorful, and, while derivative of 90's web design, it marks itself as wholly unique with its abstract, geometric shapes and zany models amongst the rows and rows of indie Steam games.

The backgrounds and character models are cartoonish, childlike, brightly colored and fit right in with wacky Web 1.0 websites and 90's web art. It just emphasizes how whimsy and fun it is. Upon playing it for a few minutes, the shitpost vibes went away, replaced by a certain earnestness. MogDog is clearly passionate about both game development and these types of aesthetics if their website is any further proof. It shows in the final product too – a game clearly earning its laurels because of how sincere it feels and plays. He is a young developer, nostalgic for a time period he didn't even live in. There's beauty in his attempts to recapture the artistic imaginarium of the old days of the internet.

It is a game made with love and passion. You can feel it emanating from the screen. From the crunchy sound design, to the psychedelic yet minimal backgrounds, to the ondulating movement of the items, to your supervisor Tony's exaggerated expressions of unbridled surprise and joy, to the dopamine hit of seeing the numbers get big. It is a standout freshman game, and proof that all one needs to make a good game, outside of raw skill, talent or intelligence, is to have fun. As Swen Vincke said in his incredible Game Awards speech: "If the developer isn't having fun, no one is."

As much as it is a breakthrough game – a stunning debut – I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't offer some constructive criticism. As much as I would die for Nubby, the game's balance is all over the place. It shows the kinks and cuts of a game designed by an amateur, which I say without derision or anger – even expert game developers struggle with creating a balanced experience in gaming.

Specifically, the endless mode is a bit too easy if you have the proper broken build. You truly will be in endless mode for all eternity unless you forcefully end your run. The stakes just don't rise as exponentially as they do in Balatro or Luck Be A Landlord, where even the toughest synergies can be broken on the wheel of rising quotas.

Secondly, the item variety leaves a lot to be desired. After a few runs, you will have already seen most items and you will be able to gauge which ones are better than others. Most items either fall in the field of completely broken and OP, or completely fucking useless. It is a crime that the pregnancy test, which gives birth to a second Nubby, is the only good corrupt item.

Lastly, I have a hard time expressing this last point, but there's a certain dissonance to the gameplay. The game seemingly invites you to clear the board, you even get extra coins when you do so. It's only after a couple of runs did I realize that the name of the game is less about popping all the pegs and more about getting the numbers up. It just...felt a bit off. Like, you have to rewire your brain a little in order to succeed in Nubby's Number Factory. Don't clear the board, numb-nuts – get your NUMBERS up!

The good news is that all of this can be addressed. MogDog can add new stuff, existing items and perks can be re-balanced, nerfed or buffed, and it seems like he is well aware of these slight deficiencies.

That's why I still heartily recommend Nubby's Number Factory, because even its flaws could be fixed with some fine-tuning, and despite them it remains a great game.

I commend MogDog for his breakthrough success. If you're curious about his ways and artistic methodologies, keep an eye on Superjump Magazine. He may or may not make an appearance as an interviewee soon.

Godspeed, nubbers. After writing about this game, all I want to do now is clock in for another shift at the Number Factory.