As children, almost all of us enjoyed pretending to be different things. But as grownups, many people have lost that simple pleasure, and now they feel uncomfortable playing games of "let's pretend". Where does this revulsion for imaginative play come from? Why do so many grownups recoil at the idea of playing a game where they get to be something awesome like a knight or a cop or a pirate or a zombie?

In the early eighties, the huge success of Trivial Pursuit put trivia games on the map, and they've been a staple of board games ever since. They're hugely popular in the mainstream, but scorned and derided by some. Why is this huge genre so polarizing? And is there such a thing as a trivia game that everybody can enjoy?

Game manufacturers know they can get a ton of sales just by putting the name of a popular movie or TV show on the box. But what goes inside the box? Games based on licensed properties can be brilliant explorations of the themes and characters from their source material, or they can be cheap, thoughtless cash-ins. What makes a good licensed game, and how can you tell the good ones from the bad ones?

Most games are about something, and that something is what we call a game's "theme". All games have rules and procedures and things you do as you play, and we call those things "mechanics". In some games, the theme and the mechanics don't have anything to do with each other, which can be distracting. In other games, theme and mechanics work together to create a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. How does this work? Award-winning game designer Eric M. Lang joins us once again for a fascinating look at the magic behind the curtain.

In most games, you don't spend every second of the game actually playing. There are times when you're just watching or chatting or waiting for your turn. We call that "downtime". Some players hate it, others can't bear to go without it. So where does downtime arise in a game, and what makes it good or bad?

Eurogames are very popular, but there is another influential school of board game design, proudly called "Ameritrash" by its biggest fans. Ameritrash stands in stark contrast to the clean, efficient and nonviolent approach taken by Euros. With loose, exceptions-based mechanics and high interactivity, rich and memorable narratives emerge from the tabletop. Award-winning game designer (and Ameritrash aficionado) Eric M. Lang joins us in our look at this controversial approach to board games.

It's not uncommon to see a sticker with the words "AWARD WINNER" on a game box, but what kind of game wins awards, and should you play those games? Where do these awards come from? Who decides the winners, and how do they pick them? Are some game awards more prestigious than others? Join the game gurus and award winning designer Eric M. Lang as we take a look at what those stickers really mean.

There's been a vogue for co-op boardgames in recent years, ever since the release of Pandemic in 2008. The players in a co-operative game must all work together against a common enemy, and in the end either they all win, or they all lose. What's the appeal of these games, and how do they work?

Some games are just plain mean. Others are totally co-operative. But what about the ones in the middle? What kind of game lets you compete without being mean and nasty to the other players? What kind of player enjoys that sort of game and why?

(My sincerest apologies to Anskar for butchering the pronunciation of his name!)

Mean games. Games where you crush the other players' plans, hopes, dreams and egos. Games that make players cry. Some people love 'em, some people can't stand 'em, but everyone seems to agree that some games are just plain mean. What is it about a game that makes it mean? Why are some games mean and others not so much?