Ask for the shape of the challenge.

Death is frequent, instant and immediately retried, and every puzzle is solvable from what the room shows you. Nothing here is hidden from a patient player.

Gentle to look at and quietly ruthless to score — the tile you place carelessly on turn ten is the one that ends the run four hundred turns later.

Two players, one screen, no difficulty setting. The hard part is coordination, and the game restarts you both a second after it goes wrong.

No reflexes and no fights — you fail by having rolled badly on the question of who you decided to be twenty hours ago.

A lullaby until the drop speed crosses whatever your reading threshold happens to be, at which point it becomes a pure reflex test with a very good soundtrack.

A management game with no failure state. What it asks for is patience and a ferry schedule, not skill.

A fishing game with an inventory puzzle and a night timer. Panic is the mechanic, and the punishment for giving in to it is deliberately mild.

Every individual mechanic is trivial; the difficulty is entirely another human being who cannot hear what you are shouting.

A blockbuster that expects to be finished, with the actual demands parked in optional bosses you can walk past without the story noticing.

Largos and tarrs will wreck a careless corral overnight, which is as close as this gets to a fail state.