That’s the whole org chart. One developer who designs the systems, writes the code, tunes the numbers, and decides when a game is actually done. The name on the door is the handle I’ve played under for years — the one my friends use, the one that means something at the table. My legal name is on tax forms; kfancy is on the games.
Fun is measurable
Most studios say their games are fun. I’d rather prove it. Before anything I make gets a store page, it gets scored — a twelve-dimension rubric, weighted by genre, with the bar set by the best game in that genre, not by my feelings about my own work. When I built a deckbuilder, the bar was Balatro. If a build can’t stand next to the game it will be compared to, it stays on the workbench.
The honest part: some dimensions refuse to be scored from the inside. Whether a run feels tense at 2 a.m. is something only players settle. Everything that can be measured, I measure. Everything that can’t, I playtest until the answer stops changing.
What I refuse to do
- Sell a roadmap and call it a game. What launches is finished — balanced, complete, worth the price on day one.
- Pad a game with content when what it needs is depth.
- Microtransactions, dark patterns, engagement bait. None of it, ever.
What’s next
Wild Crazy 8s arrives on Steam Nov 10, 2026 — a roguelike deckbuilder where you and the dealer draw from the same deck, so every card you buy is a bet on who sees it first. It has been through more balance sweeps than I care to admit. The devlog has the receipts.
Press inquiries: the press page has a fact sheet and a contact address that reaches me directly. There is no team, so replies come from the person who made the thing.