
Slime Soup is a messy game about running a very questionable soup kitchen in a gross fantasy world.
Play as a broke, slightly unhinged chef working out of a place that probably should have been shut down years ago. The cauldron is cracked, the floor is sticky, and your customers range from goblins and orcs to zombies, slugs and other things you’d rather not think about too much. They all want soup. They all want it now. And for some reason, they all have standards.
Drop slimes into your cauldron and let them bounce around, stack up and bump into each other. When slimes of the same color touch, you can link them together and set off bursts that can chain into bigger reactions. Sometimes it all lines up perfectly and the whole pot goes off. Sometimes it just… doesn’t.
Figuring out how to position things, when to wait, when to commit, that’s where the game really lives.
Decorate your kitchen with weird items that will boost your score, mess with how slimes behave or create odd interactions you didn’t expect. Stack enough of them and things start to get out of hand in a good way. Every run ends up feeling a bit different depending on what you find.
There are over 100 of them, so there’s a lot to experiment with.
Each client comes in with a score to hit. Reach it and you get paid. Miss it and you’ll probably hear about it.
You’ll deal with goblins, zombies, mutants and other regulars, all with their own expectations. Some are easy to please, some really aren’t. You have to adjust your approach depending on who’s sitting at the table.
The money you earn goes back into unlocking new slime types, new clients, and new ways to play.
There are more than 10 kinds of slimes, over 20 clients, extra game modes to unlock, and a few secrets hidden in the grime if you dig deep enough.
It’s a mix of puzzle, physics chaos and building something that slowly snowballs into a ridiculous scoring engine.
The kitchen is falling apart. The soup is alive.
And somehow, business is still going.