There used to be a modest game show called Liar's Club. If you've never heard of it, I'm not surprised— it only ran in syndication for a couple of years in the late seventies. The set was made up like a swank study or private club room. A panel of celebrity guests sat on one side of the room while three contestants stood behind podiums on the other. Each round, the panel passed a silver tray from one person to the next. On that tray rested an object— sometimes bizarre, other times simple in appearance— but always inscrutable in function. Each panelist in turn would describe the object's purpose. Some gave elaborate detail, others were more succinct, and no two descriptions matched. Only one of them was correct. The players' job was to pick the truth from the lies.
Bluffers Beware is cut from the same cloth. The game includes a deck of cards, each with a line drawing of a (presumably) real-life object— but one which you've probably never seen. The back of the card describes the object's function. This card gets inserted into a nifty, albeit superfluous, holder (why not just pass the card around?) with a door on one side to shield the object's description.
Each round, all players but one must offer a description of the object's function. Only one of them tells the truth— the rest must make something up. Who's who is determined by drawing lots— plastic tiles which say either BLUFFER or TRUTHTELLER. Bluffers are free to make up anything they wish, but they are prohibited from using any key words from the object's true description. This helps keep the bluffs "honest." The truthteller must convey the essence of the item's true description, but is free to do so in his own words.
The final player must choose the explanation which seems most plausible. If he is correct, but the guesser and the truthteller receive a plastic star to place on their scorecard. If a bluff fools the guesser, the bluffer earns two stars. The role of the guesser rotates each round, and whoever garners six stars first is the winner. The correct answer for this issue's puzzle, for example, is a tent peg driver (and remover).
We quickly found that, similar to Taboo, once we read what was written on the card we were hard-pressed to think along different lines. To avoid this problem, we all got into the habit of creating our bluffs before peeking. We also found it useful to think of a bluff before knowing whether or not we were the truthteller. This helped to prevent accidentally giving anything away by our expressions, how often we reread the true description, how long we stared at the picture, etc. Then again, we soon learned not to take any apparent slip-up at face value— it could just be a ruse to make you think a bluffer is really a truthteller. If you're at the end of the bluffing line, you may want to have a back-up bluff ready in case another player's lie comes close to yours. Nothing gives you away faster than having to hem and haw while you think up a new bluff because your first one was taken.
Bluffers Beware was a big hit with our group. The objects themselves are odd enough that bluffs frequently sound more plausible than the truth, leading to lots of amused head-scratching and re-examination of the card when the truth is revealed. Would I lie to you?