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My first dish, a smashing souffle called 'Glass Ceiling' about female temps who accidentally get the job transcribing the Orders from the Conspiracy That Controls the World and have one hour to rewrite the world's future plans before the Patriarch Committee returns from lunch, well, collapsed.

But, due to a flu- and exhaustion-inspired dreamlike sequence (free of cold medicine, thus no allegations of 'doping' to win Game-Chef here!), I'm now in the midst of A Man Called Tribe, a lovely game played out on the obsidion shores of dormant volcanoes where you play the group consciousness of the tribes that fight the invader Wurms in a barbaric post-post-modern Earth.

Cheers,
Sandy
freelance

Hi,

> Glass Ceiling sounds like it would have been really neat too; how did those plans shatter, as it were?

I wish there was an 'Appetizer' category for Game-Chef, for neat items which don't quiet make a full dish.

What broke Glass Ceiling was the lack of a bonafide mechanic for resolving the changes that they could insert in any fashion other than 'what if'. It would make a nice LARP, with work.

I've attached it below, in case anyone out there can bring it to fruition.

Cheers,
Sandy
sandy@rpg.net
freelance

Glass Ceiling

"Not conspiracies. Conspiracy. Singular." The Question, JLU.

Many think there are conspiracies afoot. They are wrong. There is but one conspiracy, ruled by a patriarchial order known only as The Committee. They control military-industrial complexes and 3rd world warlords equally. They set the rivalry between Coke and Pepsi and ensure that the NASDAQ level is balanced with the current selling price of girl scout cookies. They control the amount of peace and terror, feast and famine in the world.

Their rules are simple. Obtain power. Destroy weakness. Logic is merely a tool. Emotion is a weapon. People are a currency.

Actually, the Committee is out having lunch right now. But you and the other girls from the typing pool accidentally were given the Committee's Orders instead of your usual duties. They're due in an hour.

You now know everything. You and your fellow typists have enough information to utterly control and dominate the world, at least for the one hour remaining on your shift.

PLAY:

The clock starts when all players sit at the table and the introduction is read.

You each then make a character, quickly, with background and goals.

Each player can scan the information of one and only one of the Committee members.

This read-through is similar to what their character just spent a few minutes doing, so at this stage both player and character are in sync. And the clock is still ticking.

In addition access to information, there are two blank lines on the Committee Order Sheets left at the table. A clever typist could add their own request to the ones already listed, in order to further their own goals.

So at the end of one hour, each character may write one sentence of no more than 200 letters, that will be an order fully carried about by the Powers that Serve the Committee.

This sentence is typed secretly, with no other characters able to see. You may talk all you want, but like a secret ballot, what you actually write is yours alone.

At the end of the hour, you must drop your paperwork into the Internal Mail delivery tube.

Anyone who does not complete their paperwork will be killed, and their typed order not carried out.

MECHANICS:

Each Patriarchial Overlord controls a specific domain and uses its associated sin and emotion. War, for example, uses Fear. Economics uses Greed. Religion uses Piety. Science uses Idealism. They can only use their given emotional 'pull' when casting orders.

For example, War could destabilize the economy by stating Consumers Fear Bird Flu. Economy could destabilize it by saying Governments are Less Greedy. Science by saying People Realize Money is Not Important. Religion by saying Money is Sinful.

[the rest never completed. The Conspiracy Got To The Author!!!]