Shot by Dong Jun. Edited by Leng Xiaofeng. Reported by Zhu Qing. Subtitles by Leng Xiaofeng.
Contestants from the 12th Nonsense PPT strike a pose. Everyone won something in this round. With the champion already back in Hangzhou, organizer Chun Jie (second right) stepped in to accept her award, including the pink inflatable trophy.
It's a weekend night in downtown Shanghai. The lights dim, the projector hums, and the first slide reads: "How my 18-year-old great-grandmother restructured the family business."
The room freezes for a beat, then explodes in laughter. Beer bottles clink, phones shake as people try to film through their laughter, and on stage, the speaker fights to keep a straight face.
This is PowerPoint Karaoke – known locally as "Nonsense PPT (乱讲PPT)." The party game, originally from Germany, is catching up in Shanghai, where performers face random slides they've never seen and bluff for ten ridiculous minutes.
There's no preparation, no safety net. You might ask, "Why hookah was the 21st-century anti-smoking campaign launched by the British in China?" Next, you might be matchmaking in "Should I Date This Guy?" Alternatively, if you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, you might be pitching "Trump Falls in Love with the White House Cleaner." What is the sole guideline to follow? Make it sound serious.
"I didn't prepare at all," one contestant admitted. "The only preparation is a beer." The crowd roared in approval, raising their glasses to toast him. In that moment, alcohol, laughter, and random slides collided into pure chaos.
More often than not, the winners feel as random as the slides.
Take Morgan, who won the fourth edition after declaring himself a "poopologist." He delivered his nonsense in a mock-academic style – complete with fake research, invented data, and imaginary experts.
"I just pretended to be an academic, turning absurd topics into a research paper," he recalled. The bit hit so hard that whenever he returned, the crowd still greeted him as the "poopologist."
But not everyone wings it. Philo, the champion of the fifth edition, confessed he studied past shows and even kept notes. "I'm the kind of person who prepares," he said with a grin. "I jotted down who had the best timing, who interacted most with the crowd, and which jokes landed – then I mashed them into my style."
And for some, the appeal is sweet revenge. "At work, PPTs torture me. Here, I finally get to torture them back."
Philo, winner of the 5th edition, is back on stage at the 12th Nonsense PPT.
Big group shot – front row, second from right is organizer Chun Jie; next to her is Morgan, winner of the 4th edition.
As wild as it gets, the concept is simple: there are two types of tickets: speaker and audience. Speaker tickets guarantee that you'll be on stage, with two or three random decks to choose from. Audience tickets do not guarantee you will stay in your seat; you may be called up at any time.
At Nonsense PPT, the line between the audience and the stage is blurred. Anyone can unexpectedly become an actor.
That is precisely what happened in the 12th edition. Midway through her deck, "Trump Falls in Love with the White House Cleaner," the night's champion inquired, "Who here wants to apply for the job?" A man in a purple T-shirt sprang up and said, "I speak Thai!" The speaker quickly replied, "Perfect. When Trump visits Thailand, you'll be his translator." The audience erupted.
Minutes later, another slide appeared – "Super Lucky!" – and the original "Little Purple" was brought back on stage. Improvising wildly, he claimed he auditioned for Victoria's Secret but ended up cleaning the White House. The callback gag brought the house down.
"People think this is a solo act," claimed the organizer, known as Chun Jie. "But it isn't. It's truly a location where everyone goes crazy together."
The 12th-edition champion presents "Trump Falls in Love with the White House Cleaner," a prompt inspired by a web skit.
Chun Jie came across "PowerPoint Karaoke" on Xiaohongshu (RedNote) three years ago. She held a trial run in Shanghai.
She was surprised when tickets sold out in minutes. Every edition filled up quickly. "People kept begging me to add tickets. We had to cram 60 or 70 people into a space built for 40."
What began as a casual experiment is now in its 12th edition in Shanghai, sparking similar nights in cities like Beijing and Hangzhou. "I never thought I'd become the pillar holding this up," she said. "My life is basically filled with PPTs now."
Her workload nearly broke her. "At the peak, we ran three or four shows a week, with dozens of new decks each time," she said. "I'd go home and collapse into bed. But I kept doing it, because I knew the experience was the highlight of the week for so many people."
She said that handmade slides are still used. "AI never gets outrageous enough," Chun Jie said. "The greatest ones are abstract or about dating, which everyone can relate to. One of our most popular presentations was titled 'Should I Date This Guy?' It was so popular, we keep bringing it back."
Some consider Nonsense PPT an act of rebellion. By day, they're office workers buried in endless reports. By night, they pay 168 yuan (US$23) to stand on stage, shout "I'm not crazy!" – and then prove exactly why they are. For others, it's simply a way to meet strangers willing to play along.
When the final speaker wrapped up, the crowd raised their glasses in unison and shouted, "Nonsense!"
Laughter, applause, beer, and gibberish swirled through the summer night – giving Shanghai, just for once, a night free of meaning.
The 12th-edition champion shares the stage with an audience member, "Little Purple."