I see several words that are also well-known brands of chewing gum: • ORBIT (Wrigley) • EXTRA (Wrigley) • TRIDENT (Mondelez) • ICE BREAKERS (Hershey) No other words in the list fit that commercial product theme, so these four form a clean, self-contained set. I’ll submit them first.

Among the remaining words I notice four that are literal images each current NFL franchise uses as its primary logo: • FLEUR-DE-LIS → New Orleans Saints • LIGHTNING BOLT → Los Angeles Chargers • HORSESHOE → Indianapolis Colts • BUFFALO → Buffalo Bills No other leftover word corresponds to an NFL logo, so these four fit neatly together.

The four leftover cybersecurity-threat terms jump out clearly: • VIRUS • WORM • TROJAN HORSE • BACKDOOR Those are all methods or vectors used to compromise computer systems, and none of the other remaining words fit that theme. I’ll submit them next; if they’re right, the last four words will automatically form the final category.

Only four words remain, and they’re all synonymous with defensive covering or safeguarding: • GUARD • SHIELD • PROTECTION • AEGIS With no alternatives left, these must be the final set.

I first scanned the list for obvious clusters. Four words immediately stood out as interchangeable ways to say “nonsense”: BULL (short for “bull-”), BALONEY, BUNK, and RUBBISH. They fit neatly together and don’t seem to overlap with any other emerging sets, so they’re a safe first submission.

Spotting another clear set: JACK, HIKE, CRANK, and RAISE can all take “up” after them to mean “increase” (jack up prices, hike up prices, crank up the volume, raise up). No other remaining words share that sense, so they make a tight foursome.

The surnames ARCHER (Sterling), HUNT (Ethan), POWERS (Austin), and PEEL (Emma) all belong to well-known fictional spies. No other remaining words match this clue, and it leaves the final four (CATNAP, CATFISH, CATTAIL, CATWALK) to form the last category cleanly.

The four remaining words—NAP, FISH, TAIL, WALK—each form a familiar compound when prefixed by “CAT”: catnap, catfish, cattail, and catwalk. No other words are left, so this has to be the final group.

I see four words that all mean the first showing or beginning of something: • INTRODUCTION • DEBUT • PREMIERE • LAUNCH These are classic synonyms for a first appearance, release, or rollout, so I’ll test this as my first set.

I notice that the single word “CARDINAL” can describe each of these four clues: • BIRD → A cardinal is a common North American songbird. • CLERGY MEMBER → A cardinal is a high-ranking Catholic clergyman. • M.L.B. PLAYER → A St. Louis Cardinal is a Major League Baseball player. • N.F.L. PLAYER → An Arizona Cardinal is a National Football League player. Since all four clues point to “CARDINAL,” they should form a valid set.

The eight words left can be sorted into two clean groups of four. 1. Poet surnames • BURNS → Robert Burns • LORDE → Audre Lorde • POPE → Alexander Pope • BISHOP → Elizabeth Bishop 2. Words that commonly precede “DAY” in well-known holidays • MOTHER → Mother’s Day • SAINT VALENTINE → Valentine’s Day • SAINT PATRICK → St. Patrick’s Day • PRESIDENT → Presidents Day I’ll submit the poet set first.

The four remaining words all precede the word “DAY” in familiar holidays: • MOTHER → Mother’s Day • SAINT VALENTINE → Valentine’s Day • SAINT PATRICK → St. Patrick’s Day • PRESIDENT → Presidents Day This completes the final category.

Scanning the list, one cluster jumps out immediately: actions you perform on a phone or tablet screen. • PINCH – zoom gesture • SWIPE – lateral drag gesture • TAP – single-touch selection • SCROLL – vertical movement to view more content These four clearly fit together and don’t overlap with obvious meanings of the remaining words, so I’ll submit them first.

With the touchscreen-gesture set out of the way, I now see four words that describe places you can be seated when you go out to eat: • BAR – sit on a stool at the bar • COUNTER – e.g., diner counter seating • TABLE – standard restaurant seating • BOOTH – padded booth in many restaurants These four go together neatly and don’t conflict with the remaining words.

Eight words remain: VEG, LOAF, CHILL, LOUNGE, QUASH, HIVE, ALE, EEK. I notice that four of them are colloquial verbs meaning “to laze about”: • VEG – “veg out” on the couch • LOAF – “loaf around” all day • CHILL – “chill out”/“just chill” • LOUNGE – “lounge around” the house The wording and register match very closely, and none of the other four (QUASH, HIVE, ALE, EEK) fit that idea. I’ll submit those four next.

Only four words remain: QUASH, HIVE, ALE, EEK. Each is an English word in its own right, but if you add a single consonant to the front you get the name of a vegetable or herb: • S + QUASH → SQUASH • C + HIVE → CHIVE • K + ALE → KALE • L + EEK → LEEK So these are “vegetable names minus their first letter.”

I’m scanning the list for tight groups of four that share a very specific relationship. One clear set is “words meaning ghost or apparition”: • SPIRIT – a ghost. • SPECTER – another word for a ghost. • SHADE – literary word for a ghost. • WIGHT – archaic term for a ghostly being (or person). No other word in the list fits that semantic group, so these four form a neat, self-contained category. I’ll submit them first to test the waters and get information for the remaining groups.

From the eight words remaining, four clearly name musical genres or styles: • JAZZ • RAP • CHORAL • AMERICANA No other unused word fits the “music genre” concept, so this quartet looks like a clean category. I’ll submit it next.

We have eight unused words: BROKE, CALL, BURST, BLEW, FORECAST, SPLIT, DIVINE, READ I notice a tidy quartet that all mean “to predict” or “foretell”: • FORECAST – to predict future conditions. • DIVINE – literally “to foretell by supernatural means.” • CALL – to predict a result, e.g., “call the winner.” • READ – to discern or predict, as in “read the future” or “read the room.” No other remaining word comfortably fits that semantic idea, so those four should form a clean category. I’ll submit them next.

Only four words remain, so they must form the last set. All four describe something coming apart or exploding: • BROKE – came apart. • BURST – exploded. • BLEW – detonated/exploded (as in “blew up”). • SPLIT – broke apart. So the final quartet is straightforward.

I see a very clear linguistic link among four of the words: each commonly appears immediately before the word “HEART” (or “-HEARTED”) to create a familiar compound. • SWEET → “sweetheart” • KIND → “kindhearted” • TENDER → “tenderhearted” • WARM → “warm-hearted / warmhearted” No other available word pairs with HEART this naturally, so these four look like a solid set. I’ll submit them as my first guess.

I’m looking for another clean quartet that shares a single, unmistakable trait. Among the remaining words, four of them are clearly names for appendages or limbs used for locomotion or manipulation in animals: • ARM – human (and some animals) limb • WING – birds and insects • FIN – fish • FLIPPER – marine mammals, some reptiles No other leftover word fits this anatomical-appendage idea, so these four look like a secure set to submit next.

Among the eight words still unused I notice that four of them commonly form the phrasal-verb construction “[verb] AWAY,” meaning to squander or waste something (time, money, resources): • FIDDLE AWAY • FRITTER AWAY • TRIFLE AWAY • THROW AWAY No other remaining word naturally takes “away” in that sense, so these four should belong together.

The four remaining words all name methods or equipment commonly used to make popcorn: • KETTLE corn (popped in a kettle) • MICROWAVE popcorn • STOVETOP popcorn • POPCORN POPPER (air/oil popper) No other unused words remain, so these must form the last set.

I see four words that are fundamental geometric measurements: • AREA – measure of 2-D size • VOLUME – measure of 3-D size • LENGTH – measure of one-dimensional extent • PERIMETER – total boundary length of a 2-D shape They all belong to the clear category “Basic geometry measurements.” None of the other available words fit that idea, so I’ll submit this quartet first.

The four words EXCALIBUR, LUXOR, ARIA, and ENCORE are all names of prominent resort-casinos on the Las Vegas Strip: • Excalibur Hotel & Casino • Luxor Hotel & Casino • Aria Resort & Casino • Encore (adjacent to Wynn Las Vegas) No other remaining words share this connection, so this looks like a clean group.

Among the eight words left, four of them are famously characterized by a black-and-white color scheme: • OREO – the classic black-and-white sandwich cookie • DOMINO – the gaming tile is black (or white) with opposite-colored pips • CROSSWORD – standard crossword grids alternate black and white squares • ORCA – the killer whale’s iconic coloration is black and white No other remaining word matches this visual theme, so I’ll lock in this quartet.

The four words left all sound like the plural forms of single-letter names: • EASE → “E’s” • AYES → “I’s” • OWES → “O’s” • ARS → “R’s” That phonetic connection neatly fits the remaining set, so I’ll submit them together.

Scanning the list, four words immediately strike me as near-synonyms describing something ungainly or unnatural in manner or movement: • AWKWARD – the base adjective meaning clumsy or uncomfortable. • STILTED – describing speech or movement that is stiff and unnatural. • WOODEN – often used of acting or delivery that feels rigid and lifeless. • STIFF – likewise denotes a lack of flexibility or ease. Because all four describe the same “clumsy / unnatural” quality, they look like a solid category to try first. No other available word shares that exact semantic field as strongly, so risking these four now seems sensible.

A well-known tongue twister asks: “How much WOOD could a WOODCHUCK CHUCK if a WOODCHUCK COULD CHUCK WOOD?” Four of the remaining words are the key nouns/verbs in that line: • WOOD • WOODCHUCK • CHUCK • COULD No other available words fit that specific, famous phrase, so this feels like a solid next group to lock in.

Among the eight words left, four are well-known animated avian characters: • FOGHORN (Leghorn) – the Looney Tunes rooster • WOODY (Woodpecker) – classic Universal cartoon bird • WOODSTOCK – Snoopy’s yellow friend in Peanuts • SCROOGE (McDuck) – Disney’s miserly duck Grouping them as “cartoon birds” seems natural and uses each word unambiguously, leaving a tidy final set of four for the last category.

Only four unused words remain, so they must form the last group regardless of my ability to see their connection. I’ll submit them together to complete the puzzle.

I first scan the list for obvious thematic clusters. A. “STUFF, JAM, WEDGE, SHOEHORN” all work as verbs meaning “cram something into a tight space.” • “to stuff a suitcase” • “to jam the drawer shut” • “to wedge the door open” • “to shoehorn an idea into a paragraph” No other available words share this sense, so this looks like a clean set of four. B. I notice another neat group (not guessing it yet): “FLAG, VANE, WIND CHIME, PINWHEEL” – objects that move when the wind blows. C. A third likely set: “BACKPEDAL, FLIP-FLOP, ABOUT-FACE, RENEGE” – verbs for reversing a decision. D. The left-overs then form a clever fourth category: “STREET, NEIGHBORHOOD, RAINBOW, KANGAROO” – words that complete classic children’s TV titles when preceded by “Sesame,” “Mister Rogers’,” “Reading,” and “Captain,” respectively. Because the “cram into a space” set feels unambiguous and doesn’t overlap with any other potential category, I’ll submit that as my first guess.

With STUFF/JAM/WEDGE/SHOEHORN confirmed, I’ll focus on the remaining words. The quartet that virtually screams “things that spin or flutter in the breeze” is: • FLAG • WIND CHIME • PINWHEEL • VANE (as in “weather vane”) All four are classic examples of objects that visibly move when wind is present, and none of the other leftover words (BACKPEDAL, FLIP-FLOP, etc.) fit that description. This feels like a rock-solid category with no plausible overlap problems, so I’ll lock it in next.

Eight words remain. I see two clean, non-overlapping foursomes: 1. BACKPEDAL, FLIP-FLOP, ABOUT-FACE, RENEGE All are verbs/phrases meaning to reverse course or back out of a stance. 2. STREET, NEIGHBORHOOD, RAINBOW, KANGAROO Each completes a classic children’s TV title when preceded by a specific word (“Sesame Street,” “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” “Reading Rainbow,” “Captain Kangaroo”). Neither set shares members, so I can submit them in either order. The “reverse course” verbs seem especially obvious, so I’ll lock those in next.

Only four words remain, and they neatly share a single, distinctive link: each one finishes the title of a beloved children’s television program. • Sesame STREET • Mister Rogers’ NEIGHBORHOOD • Reading RAINBOW • Captain KANGAROO Because all other categories are solved and there are no overlaps left, this must be the final group.

I’m looking for an unambiguous, tightly-linked foursome. Scanning the list, I notice several expressions that begin with the word “Buffalo”: • Buffalo BILL – the nickname of William F. Cody • Buffalo SOLDIER – the 19th-century U.S. Army regiments (and Bob Marley song) • Buffalo NICKEL – the U.S. five-cent coin minted 1913-1938 • Buffalo WING – the spicy chicken appetizer originating in Buffalo, NY No other word in the list comfortably completes a “Buffalo ___” phrase, and each of these four clearly does. That makes them a strong candidate for a category. I’ll submit this quartet first.

With four words already cleared, I’m searching the remaining dozen for a solid, self-contained set. I notice four adjectives that all mean “important” or “of great significance”: • CRITICAL • KEY • MAJOR • PRINCIPAL Each is commonly used as a synonym for “important” (“a critical meeting,” “key evidence,” “major concern,” “principal goal”). No other leftover word fits that sense as neatly, so this looks like a clean category. I’ll submit it next.

Eight words remain. I see four that are unmistakably names of currencies: • POUND – British pound • DOLLAR – U.S., Canadian, etc. • WON – South Korean currency • STERLING – shorthand for “pound sterling,” i.e., U.K. currency Those four sit naturally together and do not overlap with the four synonyms for “not public” (SECRET, INNER, PERSONAL, PRIVATE) that will form the final group. I’ll lock in the currency set now.

Only four words are still unused, and they fit neatly together as synonyms meaning “not publicly shared or outward-facing”: • SECRET • INNER • PERSONAL • PRIVATE No alternatives remain, so this must be the final category.

Scanning the word list, I immediately see four obvious U.S. auto brands: • FORD • LINCOLN • DODGE • RAM These four fit cleanly together and don’t overlap with the other apparent groupings I’m considering (e.g., SKY- compounds, NHL teams). Since Connections often starts with the most obvious/easy set, I’ll test the auto-brand hypothesis first.

We now need three more groups. Scanning the remaining words, one quartet jumps out as classic compounds with the word “SKY”: • SKYDIVE • SKYLARK • SKYROCKET • SKYSCRAPER That uses DIVE, LARK, ROCKET, SCRAPER—all of which pair naturally (and commonly) with SKY. I’ll test this “SKY-_____” hypothesis next.

Two groups remain. I notice four singular nouns that are the mascots of National Hockey League teams (in their plural form): • Anaheim Ducks • Philadelphia Flyers • Ottawa Senators • Dallas Stars That leaves CHIP, DIP, FRY, and WING for the final set. Because this NHL link feels very tight, I’ll submit that quartet next.

Only four words are left ungrouped, so they must form the final set. CHIP, DIP, FRY, and WING are all common bar-snack or appetizer foods (chips, dip, fries, wings), which fits the style of a Connections “leftover” category. With no alternatives remaining, this has to be the last group.