Skip to content
skive.

Six guilty pleasures · £0.00 of damage

All the thrill.
None of the bill.

Order the takeaway. Spec the supercar. Offer on the house. Then stop one step short of paying — every single time. Free, no sign-up, nothing real.

DelivernoKebabylon · 0.4 mi · ★ 4.6-ish

demo
  • Large doner, extra everything£8.90

    0
  • Salt & pepper chips£4.20

    0
  • Glass bottle of posh pop£2.60

    0

Go on. Nothing will arrive. That’s the point.

“The dopamine was in the checkout all along — never the delivery. Skive keeps the first bit and bins the invoice.

Ways to nearly spend it

Six simulators, six moods, one rule: everything except the paying.

Every brand, restaurant, postcode and headline act above is invented. That’s a feature.

You’ve nearly spent

£—

totting it up…

Open The Tab →

Counted on your device, kept on your device. Nobody else is invited to your Tab.

The treat without
the Direct Debit.

Be honest: half the joy of the takeaway is the scrolling. Half the joy of the holiday is the planning. The supercar? You were never buying it — you just wanted twenty minutes choosing the stitching.

Skive serves the exact bit of spending your brain actually wants — the browsing, the basket, the “go on then” — and cuts away at the precise moment the money would leave. The Tab writes down what the moment would have cost, and didn’t.

It’s not a budgeting app. It’s the fun bit of splurging with the consequences surgically removed — which, it turns out, was the only bit worth keeping.

Fair questions

Is it free?

Completely. That is, in fact, the entire premise.

Do I need an account?

No. No sign-up, no email, no password you'll reuse from somewhere ill-advised. Just turn up and start not-buying.

Is any of it real?

Not a crumb. Every restaurant, estate agent, fashion house, marque, host and headline act is invented. It's a parody — nothing is for sale, nothing can be bought, and no card details are wanted, ever.

What actually happens?

You do the fun bit of spending — the browsing, the configuring, the basket-filling — and stop exactly one step short of paying. The Tab quietly totals up everything you didn't spend. That's it. That's the app.

Where does my data go?

Nowhere. The Tab lives in your browser's localStorage and never leaves your device. No login, no ads, no following you around the internet.

Why does this exist?

Because the dopamine is in the checkout, not the delivery — and because everything costs £4.50 now. This keeps the first bit and bins the invoice.