Playing, I found myself content to noodle around with the game for hours, deep in its ridiculous world. I made my own games, set my own challenges. How many things can I eat relative to how long I am? How many people can I persuade to ride my back? Can I topple that superstructure? Can I turn myself and a couple of trees into a catapult? Can I thread myself through every hole in that giant frame? Can I string myself around skyscrapers like a washing line? Can I lasso the clouds?
And in any case, it's wrong to say that there are no rewards, because Noby Noby Boy is not as simple as it appears, even if it is every bit as mad. It is riddled with secrets and mysteries and unexpected cause-and-effect consequences in the behaviour of BOY and the world around him that you will feel compelled to seek out, and limits you can't help but try to push. The scientific joy in discovering something new about this insane pocket universe is reward aplenty.
It's also unfair to say there are no objectives - although they are hidden ones. Noby Noby Boy offers 13 Trophies, all of them question-mark-obscured mysteries. We won't spoil them here; you can probably guess a couple, although not necessarily the extent of them. Combined with the random mapping, hunting some down will be a voyage of discovery that could last weeks, or months.
It's not the only journey to be had in Noby Noby Boy, either, despite its lack of shape or story, and its tiny, randomised maps. Pull the camera back - and back, and back, and back - and you see the whole map at once; and then it starts to dwindle, and you see that it's actually inside the Earth; and above it is the Sun, who is actually a cartoon lion, looking down through a hole in the top of the world. And then, even bigger, you see the GIRL, a giant, cosmos-spanning, pink-bows-and-love-hearts version of BOY, winding off into space.
Using the Sun as an intermediary, you can report the total number of metres you've stretched BOY to GIRL, who will grow by the same amount. It won't get her far - but everyone else playing the game is doing so too, and it's the cumulative amount of stretching done in Noby Noby Boy by PS3 users across the world that drives GIRL's voyage into the stars.
Eventually - Takahashi reckons it will take players a couple of weeks - she'll link Earth to the Moon, and then Mars. (Who knows if more planets in the solar system could be added at a later date?) Once she's got that far, these celestial bodies can be visited, bringing new sets of maps with even crazier toys and even stranger inhabitants. GIRL also serves as a global high-score table, ranking every player by the amount they've contributed to her solar-system-spanning stretch. Every ranked player gets their own procedurally-generated, yet unmistakably Takahashi-designed, avatar perched on GIRL's back, and there's a plethora of stats and records to browse. You can take video footage and upload it directly to YouTube, too.
Noby Noby Boy is much, much more than the simple, silly, pointless diversion it unassumingly presents itself as. It's actually an incredibly forward-thinking and progressive piece of game design, incorporating community metagame, achievement-driven treasure hunt, emergent play and some remarkable feats of simulation programming (the physics engine and crowd AI is worked so hard by the game's free-form anarchy at times that it suffers slowdown). Takahashi might have his head in the (donut) clouds, but he's got his finger on the pulse too, you can be sure of that.
It's not perfect - of course it isn't. The bloody-minded insistence that BOY should be fully controllable at all times has led to some fantastically awkward (if full-featured) camera controls that involve holding down various combinations of buttons while tilting the controller. It's frustrating mastering these, especially with BOY frequently getting far too long to fit comfortably on the screen. The inhabitant and physics behaviour can be shaky at times, too.
As you'd expect from the creator of Katamari Damacy, there are a hundred whimsical touches to make up for occasional clumsiness: the wistful acoustic soundtrack, the 2D "cursor BOY" who scatters the letters of the in-game manual (while the game ambles on uninterrupted in the background), the wobbling "BOY House" and its chimney-smoke menu, the eternally disappointed Fairy and the clip-art parrot who, for no good reason, indicated the state of your PSN connection.
But you don't even need to succumb to Noby Noby Boy's many surface charms to appreciate its genius. By some combination of cunning and magic, it makes you a child again. It helps you rediscover the bottomless fascination and joy you had in discovering the properties of string, or sand, or animals, or Newtonian physics for the very first time. It makes you free to play, and happy to make your own entertainment, for hours on end.
And in case you're still unsure if it's for you - in case you were thinking of denying yourself a chance to feel like that again - let me say one more thing: it costs less than lunch.
Noby Noby Boy is out today, 19th February, for PSN. It costs GBP 3.19 / EUR 3.99.