Now pretend that you are at a rockin' high school party. Ask yourself, who would you rather ask you to dance? Bobby, Clayton, or Johnny? Secretly write your choice down on a piece of paper. Then, try and guess which Heartthrob each of your fellow players will pick (Isn't this fun already???) and secretly write down your guesses. Done? Great! Everyone discuss. You get a point for each correct guess.
OK, folks, round two. Draw two "personality" cards per Heartthrob and place them under the face cards. Now we've got a little more insight into these mystery boys:
Round three: two more personality cards, and this time he wants to go steady. (The game does not explain what "steady" entails, but I'm guessing lots of full-on tongue kissing and awkwardly saying, "I'm not ready.") Assess, choose, discuss, add points.
End of round. Repeat entire sequence. Continue to play until you are bored or have fallen into a pit of despair. At that point, add up all your points. The most perceptive lady or gentleman (the one with the most points, that is) wins.
The more you play Heartthrob, the more depressing it becomes. You gradually realize that you're not choosing from the pick of the Central Prep litter. After a while, you find yourself staring at options like this mess:
It's like an elaborate game of "Would you rather" with the gloomiest choices ever. i assume that the creators are a bunch of middle-aged, chain-smoking, G&T-drinking female Milton Bradley lifers determined to teach the bubbly little high-school chicklets who play this game a thing or two about life: that's right, kid. If he's not talking to aliens, he's walking around with his pants unzipped. That's life. That's love. Deal with it.