Super Humans
A story-focused game that starts as if it were at the far end of a run of Lasers & Feelings: characters can do anything a superhero can do with no problem, but struggle with any check relating to everyday life.
Super, and human.
The challenges that a player faces should be small, mundane things: staying on top of a scheduled trip to the woods, getting kids’ report cards signed and back to school, figuring out what to take to the potluck and when to make it.
Superhero life may intrude and complicate, but the two never truly mix. I.e., an alien invasion won’t interrupt the potluck, but it might ruin the deviled eggs you’ve made and force you to scramble to find a new dish.
Superhero activities are automatically successful: nobody ever dies (permanently), the world isn’t destroyed. The only impact superheroics have are to add challenges in your ‘real’ life.
Set up a scenario with tables.
You’re trying to ___ because ___, but ___ is making it difficult. You can solve the problem by ___, but first you have to ___. Just when you think it’s all taken care of, ___! And, of course, you have to handle ___.
So, for example:
You’re trying to sell the most cars in the dealership because you’re up for a promotion, but Coworker Michelle is making it difficult. You can solve the problem by getting her to abandon the management track, but first you have to convince Mr. Leary that she wants money more than responsibility. Just when you think it’s all taken care of, Mr. Leary’s affair comes to light! And, of course, you have to handle the bug-men trying to collapse the town.
Part of the ‘gag’ of the game is that each PC has a full character sheet, with things like “Hyperpunch +11” as well as “yard work +1”. It’s probably a good fit for PBtA, rules-wise.
Each PC gets 2 playbooks: hero and secret identity. Hero playbooks are like Mastermind, Mutant, Brawler, Blaster, Magician, or Reformed. Secret identities are SAH Parent, Regular Blue Collar Guy, Billionaire Playboy, Recluse, Lawyer-Cop, Student, and Nonprofit Saint.
The trick to keeping the thing interesting is, in part, that you have to be laughably, terribly bad at living a normal life. These things have to be a genuine struggle. There also has to be a way to bring your superpowers to bear, allowing you to make things trivially easy. Finally, there has to be a punishment for doing so: a family member leaves you or is killed, you lose your job, whatever. This is a move called Lifting the Mask, and the failure results are Bad.