Buddy Toss

Buddy Toss is the kind of game that looks like a fever dream and plays like one too, in the best possible way. It starts with a shirtless muscle man throwing another poor soul skyward like a bag of laundry, and it only gets more unhinged from there. With each well-timed tap, you launch your flailing buddy higher into the air until he’s punching through clouds, moons, and eventually the fabric of reality itself. It’s dumb. It’s chaotic. And it might be the funniest five-minute loop you’ll experience on your phone today.

Mechanically, it couldn’t be simpler: tap once to toss your buddy, and again when he’s falling to catch and hurl him again. That’s it. The physics are floaty in the exact way your childhood brain imagined trampoline flips felt. There’s no real end, no deeper meaning, and no story beyond the caveman logic of “strong man throw guy good.” It’s practically made to be played one-handed while you’re waiting in line or existentially spiraling on the couch.

That said, there’s an elegance in its stupidity. The way each launch adds just a bit more height, just a bit more anticipation, makes chasing high scores feel like climbing an invisible ladder to cosmic glory. The backdrop evolves as your buddy soars, blasting past planes, satellites, and eventually the galaxy itself. Every extra toss feels like you’re defying a god you’ve long stopped believing in.

Buddy Toss also has a leaderboard if you’re the competitive type, and endless mode means the only thing stopping you is your own lack of rhythm or ability to laugh through failure. It’s fully free, with a surprising lack of obnoxious monetization. Even the UI feels like it was designed by someone who thought, “What if funny was a shape?”

This isn’t a game you grind or master, it’s one you vibe with. A perfectly dumb arcade loop that gets out of its own way, cracks a dumb joke, and asks if you want to hit orbit again.