ABOUT SLIDEPHOTOS
A boy. A Saab.
An unreasonable number of parked cars.
The ancient art of Slide-Puzzling had to start somewhere. Allegedly, it started behind a high school party.
When Mo was seventeen, he arrived at a high school party in a Saab that had more personality than horsepower. He parked in what appeared to be an excellent spot. By the time he wanted to leave, that spot had become the center square of a vehicular lasagna: station wagons, pickup trucks, someone’s uncle’s limousine, and a suspiciously roadworthy tractor.
There was exactly one empty space. Nobody could find their keys. Nobody would admit to owning the tractor. Mo’s curfew was approaching, and the Saab’s ignition key was, as Saab tradition demanded, in a place that made everyone else uncomfortable.
That was when a mysterious exchange student emerged from the garage carrying a juice box and a laminated parking diagram. “You cannot move the car you want,” he whispered. “You must first move the car beside the space.” He claimed this was Slide-Puzzling, an ancient discipline passed down through generations of Babylonian parking attendants. His name was probably Kevin. Nobody could slide a puzzle like him.
UNTIL NOW...
For the next three hours, Mo shuffled an increasingly irritated collection of teenagers and their vehicles through the driveway, achieving enlightenment somewhere between the second station wagon and the fourth argument about diagonals. At dawn, his Saab finally emerged. The tractor was never seen again. Mo was grounded until the invention of broadband.
SlidePhotos is an attempt to recapture that magic, with considerably less clutch damage. Upload a photo, pick a difficulty, and slide the pieces back into place. Chase a faster finish in Time Attack, or channel your inner parking attendant in Lowest Slides. Then send the exact shuffle to a friend and discover whether they are better at this than you. Annoyingly, they might be.
Like Mo’s Maze Mini Golf, this is a Some Awesome Games title built around a simple idea, an unhealthy fondness for games, and the conviction that “one more try” is a perfectly reasonable bedtime. It works with your own photos, fits your phone, and lets a good puzzle become a friendly rivalry.