Matching
Six cards face down, three pairs of friends among them. Turn two over — a pair stays up, anything else goes back. Holding a picture in your head until it turns up again is the whole game.
100 BPM · everything moves on the beat
Dave the robot was sent back in time by accident. He finds a sleeping T rex who also wants friends. Go and wake the rest — win each one over at its own little game, keep everyone fed, and the song grows a new layer for every dancer on the floor.
Nothing is on a timer of its own. Each dancer steps once per half‑beat, read straight off the music as it plays — which is why they never drift apart, and why the whole floor lands together.
Every friend sets its own puzzle before it will join the band, and each one asks for something different. None of them can be failed — a wrong answer just comes round again.
Six cards face down, three pairs of friends among them. Turn two over — a pair stays up, anything else goes back. Holding a picture in your head until it turns up again is the whole game.
How many are there? Count the friends the triceratops lines up and answer with the number. Small amounts, taken one at a time, and out loud if you like.
The brontosaurus would like to see its own name, please — all eleven letters of it, laid out among the vines. Pick them in the right order and it walks the word back to you.
Left, forward, right — and they are the spinosaurus's left and right, not yours. Read the path across the ice, then skate it in order. A wrong call only wobbles it, so there is always another go.
The world scrolls along as Dave walks off the edge of one screen and onto the next.
Every dancer adds a layer of their own. Eight in all.
Three z's and a dancer nods off. An apple wakes it in four beats flat.
Daytime runs at 100 BPM. After dark the whole band moves up to 120.
Crowns, fezzes, jester caps. Everyone gets dressed up.
Nothing interrupts, and nothing is sold inside the game.
The shop sits behind a question a child can't answer. No price is ever shown to them.
No connection needed once it's on the device.
Ernie Interactive is a small studio. Dinosaur Dance Party is our first game, and these are the rules we built it under.
Two friends are free to play with, so you can see the whole thing working before you decide. After that it is a single purchase that unlocks every game — not a subscription, and never a drip of small ones.
Walk up to a locked friend and a child sees one button: ask a grown-up. No price, no store, nothing to tap through by accident. The shop only opens past a keypad that asks what year you were born.
No ads, no leaderboards, no timers, no losing. Nobody is ever kicked out of the dance — the worst that happens is a dinosaur gets sleepy and would like an apple.
Dinosaur Dance Party is in the last stretch of development. Put your name down and we'll tell you the day it lands.