War on Terror Review

Satire.

If there’s anything that Britain is good at, it’s moaning. And satire. Charles Dickens. Cleese, Barker and Corbett. Chris Morris. The incredible Armando Iannucci.

We love satire in Britain. It tends to come in and out of fashion. (What this actually means is that comedians with something to say tend not to be very common. We use the “fashion” thing to excuse comedy’s regular inadequacies.) But overall, we have a huge affection for those who take a pop at those that need to get popped at. Or take a poop on those who need to be pooped on.

At the moment I have a big corkboard on my wall, with lots of Post-It Notes stuck there. The Post-It Notes have things written on them. Things like “DRUGS THING” and “THING ABOUT SPERM.” I’m in the middle of writing a sketch show with a heavily satirical slant, so it feels like a good time to get War on Terror on the table.

War on Terror, from TerrorBull Games, is a satirical board game. I’ll talk about the board game first, then I’ll talk about the metagame, which is where it becomes clear that the satire is a blistering success.

War on Terror has a board that looks, to a complete idiot’s eye, like something that might be a wee bit like Risk. Worrying times, indeed. But WoT doesn’t play like Risk. Not at all. Sure, there’s land-grabbing and aggression. But there’s something far more clever going on in here.

In WoT every player plays as an Empire of a different colour. You start the game by developing villages on the map, and then in every turn that follows you can expand out and up, like a man with an inflatable suit who’s found some telescopic stilts. Grab more land and develop more villages, or turn your villages into towns and cities. The land-grabbing is all about oil. Not cod liver oil, fish fans. Oil oil. Black Gold. Texas Tea. Brown Shower. Each country has an oil counter which gets flipped when it is conquered. There’s a number on the oil counter. If that number comes up on the dice roll at the end of a turn, oil gets produced. You get rich. Settlers of Catan style. It follows, then, that you want lots of land and lots of oil counters.

You can screw over the other Empires by hitting them with cards. You get to draw cards at the start of your turn, and can buy more. Cards, baby. We all love cards, right? Cards.

And there’s something else you can do on your turn. You can sponsor terrorism. You can buy terrorists from the world bank and place them on the board. Drop them into your opponents’ countries. Or you can keep them in a terrorist training camp until you’re ready to use them. Nice, right?

An extra angle is provided by the Axis of Evil spinner in the middle of the board. Sometimes a card or a dice roll will activate it, and the spin will turn one of the Empires into the big fat walking target. The bad guy. The Empire everyone gets rewarded for taking a shot at. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never bought even one terrorist – you could suddenly be named the Big Bad and be handed the legendary Evil Balaclava. Which is a balaclava that says ‘EVIL’ on it.

NOTE: Playing War on Terror on a hot night is hilarious. Watching one of your opponents sweating to death under the balaclava is a wonderful treat. Not to be missed.

Here’s the key element of the game: at any point, a player can turn terrorist. You can just turn all your developments into terrorist cells and columns, swap your Empire Cards for Terrorist Cards, and have at it. As players sponsor terrorism, and more terrorists are unleashed onto the board, it starts to become just too tempting to turn “bad” and take control of that big swarm of black counters. Players who go bankrupt or are wiped out also turn terrorist, so as time goes by, the game will almost certainly split into two sides. The good guys and the bad guys. No. The bad guys and the good guys. No. The good guys and the good- No. Wait.

The guys and the guys.

We’re knee-deep in metagame now:

SESSION REWIND – In the early part of the game, Robert and Joanne made a secret pact to squeeze Richard out of the Americas. Bad rolls and bad choices made it impossible, and Richard retaliated with a nuclear strike, sending Robert to his knees. Robert’s only option is to somehow survive, and try to claw his way back in.

Meanwhile, in Eastern Europe, Kenny is starting to swarm Louise. As Kenny pushes on, Richard is promising Robert a swift death. Robert is sure that he’s going to be reduced to rubble if Richard gets another turn at him. Kenny plays a card.

The card causes a surge of terrorists. Kenny is making an aggressive move to suit his own ends, but it’s a pleasing sight to Robert too. “Look at all those terrorists,” he swoons.

Robert decides to flip and become a terrorist. Better to take control of all those units than just play into Richard’s hands. But could he persuade Louise to flip too?

Secret messages are traded. Frantic negotiations. Richard’s turn begins.

“I’m playing this card,” Richard says.

“WAIT!” Robert yells. He looks at Louise.

Louise nods.

They quietly remove their developments from the board, and move black terror cells in. They trade their cards for Terror Cards. They say nothing.

It begins.

And here we are. The meat of the game. Here’s Louise saying “I don’t see why we’re the bad guys, to be honest.” And she has a point. I’d just been nuked. I was without a home because of Richard’s aggression. All I wanted was to be free. The game suddenly starts to rise up off the board. The game is in the room. A bit of roleplay. A bit of antagonism. A bit of “Wait a minute. Which side is which, exactly?”

Me: We’re not terrorists. We’re freedom fighters.
Joanne: You’re the bad guys.

As part of the terrorist team, you share a turn with your comrades. Your objective is now to wipe out all the empires and free the world. You need to put your heads together and come up with some serious plans. You need money? You have no oil, so no joy from the oil roll. Your cards are all you have. Choices, choices. Steal some of that oil? Hijack a plane, maybe?

Louise: Joanne, we’ve hijacked one of your passenger jets.
Joanne: I do not negotiate with terrorists.
Louise: You should have said at the end: “Now watch this drive.”

When you’re a terrorist, you don’t feel like a bad guy. You feel like an underdog. You’re scratching and scraping to survive. You have these massive Empires swatting you down like flies, so it’s hugely satisfying when you manage to rise up, RISE UP, RISE UP! over and over again.

The game provokes some wonderful debate. I don’t want anyone out there thinking that this is just a cheap and nasty “Ho Ho Hijacks!” kind of game. There were comments at the table along the lines of “They should make this game compulsory in school history lessons.” It paints an amazing demonstrative picture of how nations manufacture their own downfall, and how it’s often difficult to see who the heroes and vilains are.

The game has a beautiful gameplay choice at its core. And that choice is wrapped in a lesson. Do you sponsor terrorism? Do you use these people to further the goals of your empire? Do you do it despite knowing that ultimately, inevitably, the very same terrorists will be at your door in the endgame? Do you do it anyway?

The terrorists lost, by the way. Louise and I watched as our cells and columns and vanguards were systematically picked off by the three capitalist machines sitting opposite us. The three then chose to end the game with ‘World Peace,’ which saw all three of them shaking hands while we promised them this:

You have only cut off the snake’s tail…

As a board game, War on Terror is a success. It has straightforward rules and a reasonable playtime, it generates some quality table-banter, and it’s a lot of fun.

As a work of satire, it’s quite brilliant. It might not tell us anything we don’t know, but it gathers up what we already know, stuffs it into a big boardgame shoe, and kicks us firmly in the balls with it. And it’s funny. It isn’t just funny in itself, it encourages the players to be funny too.

Fun, funny, intelligent and it matters.

More games like this, PLEASE.

ONE MORE THING: The secret messages system (a notepad and a pencil) allows for notes to be passed between players at every point of the game. I love it.

Guide to the Perfect Games Night

Everyone loves a good games night, right? By “games night” I mean a night when some like-minded people get together and play a board game or two. Now, you might be someone who:

(a) Had a terrible games night, which ended with your friends throwing you into a river with a big-box game like Twilight Imperium or Descent tied round your ankles

or

(b) Have never even had a games night, because you either:

(a) Have no friends, because of hygiene issues

or

(b) Have no board games, because you’re an idiot

or

(c) Think the idea of a “games night” sounds excruciatingly bad, and you’ll be busy anyway, dating hot men/women and taking drugs.

or

(d) Don’t know how to go about having a games night.

or

(e) Are in a mental institution because you keep writing articles full of multiple choice options, letters and brackets.

or

(c) Are in a mental institution because you keep writing articles full of multiple choice options, letters and brackets.

Well, if you are one of options (a) or (b(d)) (sorry about all the brackets (and that one just there, and the ones coming up)) then you’ll be happy to know that DowntimeTown has the perfect guide for you. The guide to the PERFECT board game night.

THE DOWNTIMETOWN GUIDE TO THE PERFECT GAMES NIGHT

1. CHOOSE THE RIGHT GAME

The game has got to be right for your group. For example, if your group enjoys good games, do not put Risk on the table. Gauge the interests of the group by phoning them at 3 in the morning every night in the week leading up to your games night. A person asked a question at 3 in the morning will always answer truthfully, although the truth will probably be screamed at you and will be wrapped in lots of swear words. Find out what type of thing they like and then pop onto The Geek to find the ideal game.

2. LEARN THE RULES, IDIOT

Reading rules at the table is BAD! And you are BALD!

For God’s sake learn the rules. Whatever game you decide to play, make sure you have those rules DOWN. Study them. Commit them to memory. If, on the day of your games night, you are going for a shit without taking the rules with you to read on the pan, you are not doing your job properly. Another option is to print out copies of the rules (usually the website of the board game’s publisher will provide downloadable rulebooks) and send them to the players in advance. Just be aware that NONE OF THEM WILL ACTUALLY READ THEM BECAUSE THEY HAVE LIVES. So it’s down to you. Learn the rules, idiot.

3. PRACTICE SET-UP

Modern board games often take an age to set up. The average set-up time of a modern board game is 17 Passings of the Moon. You need to shorten that set-up time, because no-one likes waiting around while you get your stuff straight. (Am I right, ladies?) Consider the terrible sport of Grand Prix Racing. In that world there is a pit crew. And those guys practice getting shit done FAST, so that they can enhance the careers of spoiled rich kids whose machines do all the work. So you can certainly put in the time to enhance the evening of your friends, right?

4. KEEP IT BRIEF

The rules explanation. The whole night can be won or lost on the rules explanation. If it turns into a lecture, you’re screwed. Be as brief as you can feasibly be. There’s nothing worse than explaining the rules of a game and seeing people’s eyes glaze over and their drool starting to drip onto your unsleeved cards. Start the game as soon as you can. You can demonstrate a turn and explain any details as you go. Believe me here, no-one can go long on a rules explanation and survive. If Barack Obama himself took an hour over the book-keeping details of Arkham Horror, your group would be screaming for impeachment.

5. DO NOT FLIP THE FUCK OUT

His eyes are already drying out and turning black.

This is the one I have a problem with. I am a terrible loser. I hate to lose. On your special games night, you need to follow this rule: DO NOT FLIP THE FUCK OUT. You have invited some friends for a fun night playing one of the many amazing board games out there. It is a positive experience. No-one wants you ruining it all by starting to flip the fuck out when things don’t go your way. There are different ways of flipping the fuck out. There’s the TOTAL FUCKING FLIPOUT, where you will flip the board in the air, kick things over, call someone’s wife a slut and someone’s husband a manslut, and eventually wake up in jail. There’s the MILD FUCKING FLIPOUT, where your voice gets that annoying nasal sound to it, and you moan and whine about how “imbalanced” or “cheap” the mechanic of a brilliant board game is, and all because you fucked up. And then there’s the type of flipout that might be the worst – THE FUCKING STEALTH FLIPOUT.

This flipout is deadly. You fall silent. You smile and keep up appearances. You pretend you don’t care that the whole table just ganked the hell out of you. You pack the stuff away and see everyone out, wishing them a good night.

You go to bed. You lie there, in the darkness, seething. Your eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling. You can’t even blink you’re so angry. Your eyeballs start to dry out. In the morning, you get up and go to the bathroom. Your eyeballs have turned black by this time. You take some lipstick and draw a dice symbol on your face. You get in the car.

You visit each of your friends’ homes in succession. And you kill them all, in a board game style.

Friend 1: you roll dice down his throat until his stomach ruptures.

Friend 2: You hack him up and bury his parts in two shallow graves, one marked “Draw Grave” and one marked “Discard Pile.”

Friend 3: You strip him, cover him in wool and take him to an abbatoir. You find the conveyor belt carrying lambs to the slaughter and swap him in for one of the animals. You watch as he is killed and hung, having successfully traded him for sheep.

Friend 4: You throw him into an incredibly elaborate and enormous Dice Tower you’ve built, letting his body tumble to the bottom, his bones smashing in a satisfyingly random manner.

All that said, I’d state again: DO NOT FLIP THE FUCK OUT. Just have fun. It’s great to play games with friends. Enjoy!

And that’s your 5-step plan to the perfect Games Night!

If you have a games night, let us know down below, and show us some pics!

Zaa Ooo Zaa!