You have a card with body parts labeled with letters. It represents your body.
Another player (with a different body card), draws a card with a letter in the center, surrounded by nonsense words like “umble” or “trellin”.
The other player asks something like, “I feel like we’re getting to know each other, so I’d really like to know if I can umble your X.”
You look at your card, and either you don’t have an X (and demur in a way that feels comfortable), or you do, and then you decide if you want them to umble it. You get to make up what umbling is, and describe it to them—but of course, they can ask you to demonstrate, because everyone’s X is different, or they’ve never umbled before, or whatever works with the individuals present.
Once you’re clear on what umbling is, and how it would be done to your X, either of you can still demur. But if you’re down to get umbled, and they’re down to umble you, then you go ahead and do that thing until one of you feels done with it.
Then you rotate! Seems to work for any number of players. Maybe lots of players have been just waiting for someone to umble their X forever, but they all like their X umbled differently.
So for example, you and I have our body maps, and I draw the Q card. I don’t know what a Q is for you, so I say something like, “I know this might be a bit forward of me, but — do you have a Q?” You consult your bodymap and don’t see a Q on it, so you tell me you don’t have one. I thank you for the information, and we switch roles.
You draw the next card, a K this time, and either pick a gibberish word from the ones on the card or you make one up because those all don’t sound like you’d want to do them to my K (whatever that is). You choose “forble.” “I’m thinking about forbling Ks, myself,” you say. I look at my bodymap, find the K, blush a little, and stammer, “uh, I think I’ll save that for another time, thank you.” We express our appreciation at having avoided an international incident, and switch roles.
I draw G, and decide to go with “gabbard” — ”may I gabbard your G?” I ask. You find that spot on your bodymap somewhere near your head, which isn’t where everyone seems to think it is on the internet, and rather like the idea of having me doing something you might call gabbarding. “Oh, is that where you look longingly at my hair?” you ask, flipping the subject in question coyly over your shoulder, “because if so then I suppose I might allow that.” Having some sense of dignity, I’m tempted to decline (which I’m allowed to do, of course), but I do kind of like your hair, and I’m inclined to be playful, so I adopt my very best longing look and say “why yes, I’ve been avoiding it all night but I *would* like to look longingly at your lovely locks.” Your tresses and I exchange a glance, you and I thank each other, and we switch roles.
No, thank you:
You draw V: “I’d like to tamoush your V, please.” I accept: “Oh, is that where you drag your hair across my forearm? Very well, I accept.” You, however, feel this is a bridge too far. “No thanks, I’ll keep my hair over here.” We thank each other, and switch roles.
I draw O: “may I xittif your O?” “Yes, if by xittif you mean run the pad of your finger along, and by O you mean the palm of my hand here.” “Well, I hadn’t thought through it that far, but yes, I realize I *did* mean that. Do you prefer a light touch, or a strong one?” And so on we go.
“Wow, thanks, I’m feeling refreshed and connected with you.”
“Yeah, me too—I didn’t know you before, but I feel safer with you now.”