The SnakeMaster's Toolbox

Somebody has to run the goddamn plane. This chapter is for the SnakeMaster — the player who controls all the snakes, and who, in a cloned project, is usually also the builder. The rules are the players' rules; the toolbox is yours.

Keep it moving

There will be a great temptation for players to keep their characters rambling. Since dialogue doesn't incur the risk of snake attacks, they may just sit there screaming, "Oh god, we're going to die" or "Can't somebody do something?" or "Get these motherfucking snakes off this motherfucking plane!"

Do not allow this to happen. Constantly confront the players with events that challenge their characters' Stories. Get them out of the seats. They should be running back and forth, screaming and fighting and carrying on. Throw things at them to force them to act. Every action they take brings with it the risk of snake attack, and snake attacks drive the narrative.

If you're stuck, put the object of a PC's Story in danger:

• Trying to pitch their script to a producer? The producer is under attack by a snake. What do you do?
• Escorting a federal witness? The witness got lost in the confusion of the PC resolving the last snake attack. Where did they go?

You are also within your prerogative to declare an unprovoked snake attack. Roll 1 die on the Motherfucking Snakes table and tell a player whose character hasn't moved in a while that they have to deal with a snake now.

Dying early

If a PC dies very early, let them play an NPC who is important to another PC's Story. They don't get stats, which means they can (and should) die as soon as the logic of the narrative demands it. But they can complicate the story, help or hinder the PCs, and run around screaming with snakes wriggling down their shirts.

Setting the tone

This is a ridiculous game. The tone is horror as comedy. We grapple with a terrifying concept — enclosure in a confined space, surrounded by small and deadly creatures — by heightening it to an absurd extreme. Once it reaches the level of absurdity, we are able to laugh at it, and thereby simulate mastery over it.

Use as many adjectives as possible to describe how terrifying it is to be in a narrow closed space with panicking people and an absurd number of snakes. "Slithering," "rasping," "hissing," "coiling," and other words will add to the overwhelming environment of snakes all over the place.

Where the toolbox lives

The advice above is public — players may read it, and the game is better for it. But the specific material for your session — the twist, the escalation, the rulings you'll make — belongs in a GM Instructions file, which loads during play. The project ships a SnakeMaster Brief with the operational details (traits, the attack table, the clock, the pacing rules) that the GM loads mid-game. Copy it for your session and write your secrets into the copy; leave the brief itself for other tables to inherit.