On April Fools’ Day, I logged into Discord for my weekly game night with my online bestie, Art. Every Tuesday, we play Fall Guys. We are, in fact, self-professed Fall Guys superfans.
And that game night was sure to be special—it was the debut of the new Fame Pass.
After updating our games, Art and I checked out the pass, our excitement growing as we saw the adorable campfire-themed items and costumes. There was even a squirrel. A squirrel! We purchased the pass and then jumped into the newly debuted Foolish Trios, trying out several new levels before switching to Duos for our normally scheduled programming.
“We can probably switch to Explore now,” I said about an hour in, sure that we’d completed our Dailys and could fuck around. “Fuck Around Time” was a very important part of our game night.
But when we checked out the challenges, we hadn’t completed any. We read out our challenges to each other, realizing they were completely different with no overlap. My eyes darted to the clock in horror.
“Is this a joke?” I said. “We just wasted an entire hour.”
After nearly three years of devoted Fall Guys play, our favorite game had duped us. Our game nights were never going to be the same. And it was the randomized Daily Challenges’ fault.
The Beginning: Two Beans Against The World
To understand my well-deserved ire with this update, first you must understand how I fell in love with Fall Guys in the first place (pun intended).
I got on the Fall Guys bandwagon slightly later than its pandemic boom, only after Epic Games acquired it and released it for free to the masses. At the time, I barely identified as a gamer at all, only ever playing with people from my online writing community, like Art. It was Art who recommended Fall Guys, and I liked that it was free. By the end of our first Fall Guys night, Art and I were giggling, cursing our clumsy Beans, and cheering when we managed to make it to a final round. We didn’t care about unlocking items or winning rounds yet. We were just hanging out.
Fall Guys quickly became our go-to game. After a succession of updates and enticing Fame Passes inspired by Hello Kitty and other IP, we eagerly customized our characters, designing them after our original characters from our writing group. We participated in limited-time challenges and steadily improved. It helps that Fall Guys has a pretty easy learning curve and generous rewards.
But the real reason I fell for Fall Guys is because no other game scratches the same itch when faced with life’s stresses. After horrible days at work or drama online, Art and I would message each other for a game night. We ruled Among Us too stressful, and slowly our co-op farm in Stardew Valley went untended—splitting chores on the farm felt like playing “beside” each other rather than together. Queuing into a Duos round of Fall Guys, however, meant Art’s success was my success and vice versa, and our familiarity with the rounds meant we could chat casually. If we wanted new challenges, we had a plethora of user-created maps to conquer.
Eventually, Tuesdays became “Game Night.” As the weeks went on, our conversations meandered away from the things that initially brought us together—fandom interests, anime, DnD, Kpop, writing—and we learned personal things about each other, the unspoken line between online life and IRL fading away.
It was on one such call that Art mentioned she had reached out to a therapist. For months, we had joked about it with each other, referring to Fall Guys as our chosen therapy. Truly, what’s more therapeutic than hitting an adorable bean-shaped person with a rubber chicken power-up?
“Really?” I said. “That’s awesome! I keep saying I’m going to do that but…”
“Yeah, it’s tough. I’m like, at that point though.”
I knew exactly what she meant. At the same time, it felt like she had leapt ahead of me—qualifying and leaving me in the dust. Art had always been the more skillful Fall Guys player, carrying me for the first year of our game nights while I played on a busted-ass keyboard with laggy computer graphics and—okay, no more excuses—a true lack of hand-eye coordination.
But after all these years, I had improved, even carrying Art sometimes on her weaker levels. I realized if she could do it, I could do it.
A week later, at our next game night, I reported my success: I had reached out to a therapist, and my first appointment was next week. Meanwhile, Art had gone to her first session and was already feeling more hopeful. Now, our Fall Guys nights have become a way to share our separate journeys, together. We were leveling up.
Daily Disappointments
Enter: the April Fools’ Update, which introduced Ranked Knock-outs, Foolish Trios, a huge swath of new maps, and that adorable Fame Pass.
As for the randomized and personalized Daily Challenges? It’s such a minor update that it’s been relegated to “Miscellaneous Changes” on the Fall Guys Wiki, and not mentioned at all in the official blog post about the new update. The lack of attention to this change honestly shocks me when it has a huge impact on Fall Guys as a platform for social play.
To play devil’s advocate to myself—I get it! Randomizing Daily Challenges introduces variety as opposed to the old fixed challenges, which had existed in the game since 2021. It incentivizes players to log on every day, rejoicing in the days they just have to “dive 30 times in any game” and shaking their fist when they have to “qualify in 45 seconds or less in Creator’s Spotlight.“ The randomized Daily Challenges also encourage players to try out different modes they might otherwise avoid, like participating in a Hex-A-Gone challenge (my personal weakness).
But what about the social Fall Guys users? What about me and Art, who derive our joy from progressing through the pass together? Surely, I can’t be the only one who logs on to Fall Guys every single week for a two-hour catch-up chat and some goofy, relaxing gameplay. While I’m motivated by achievements, the victory isn’t as sweet if it’s mine alone. Half the fun of unlocking the costumes is unlocking them with Art and then putting on our goofy new items together, a signal to the other players that we’re a team.
And like I mentioned, the randomized challenges are not created equal. If Art has to “Jump 45 times in any game,” she’ll probably complete her challenge in one or two rounds of gameplay. Yet if my daily challenge is to “Be in the air for 45 seconds in Solos,” first I have to hope I’m randomized into a level with fans or a hover platform to even get a chance at completion. Daily Challenges used to take Art and me roughly 45 minutes before our important Fuck Around Time. Now, Daily Challenges can consume our entire two-hour window, especially if we have no overlap between the types of games we have to play.
That first week following the update forced us into that very situation. I had to complete levels in under 45 seconds or bust. This usually means a perfect run, no falls allowed. I tried over and over. Art even put on a timer. My Bean hauled ass, yet my perfect runs still clocked in closer to 50 seconds.
It crept later into the night. Our conversation dried out; I had to concentrate. We talked less about the challenges we faced IRL and more about in-game strategies for getting faster. Each failure compounded my frustration and stress, making me play worse with each attempt. So much for a little therapeutic gameplay, huh?
Finally, Art called it. It was nearly midnight, and she had work in the morning.
“I’ll just get on tomorrow,” I sighed. I had to complete my Daily’s, or I’d fall behind her in the Fame Pass.
“I can’t tomorrow,” said Art.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I can do it by myself.”
The next day, I logged on and received my Daily Challenges, one of which was “Qualify from Round Two in Duos.” Normally, I’d rejoice—I’d smash this challenge with Art. But she wasn’t online, so I queued with a bunch of strangers and crossed my fingers.
Falling Together Should Still Count
So this is my heartfelt plea to the developers at Mediatonic: Please, oh please, bring back fixed Daily Challenges. Or at the very least, there should be some way for people who queue together to complete the same challenges. Otherwise, it looks like Art and I will need to find a different game for our game night—one that understands the joy in falling, failing, and winning together.
Lauryl loves exploring storytelling in all its forms—books, movies, TV, and video games! She can be convinced to try any game once, but has a soft spot for indie puzzle platformers with distinctive art and accessible games that foster community. When not working her day job in K-12 educational publishing, she roams from cafe to cafe in search of perfect writing ambiance.
