Playtest Version 0.4
A competitive RPG for 3–5 players, by David J Prokopetz
Important Note: This document may not represent the most up-to-date version of Get in the Fucking Robot. You can always find the latest revision at the following address:
Get in the Fucking Robot is written and edited by David J Prokopetz. Cover illustration and design by Aster Fialla. Special thanks go out to:
This document uses the fonts “Roboto” and “Roboto Mono” by Christian Robertson.
Get in the Fucking Robot © 2021 Penguin King Games Inc. This game is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real people living or dead is frankly a little concerning.
The Apocalypse is coming, and nothing can stop it – nothing, that is, except your giant robot. All it needs is a willing pilot. Unfortunately, you're all deeply dysfunctional people, and no matter who steps up, it's sure to end in disaster; for yourself, certainly, and very likely for the world as well. It's not like you have any choice, though. In the end, one of you must get in the fucking robot.
Get in the Fucking Robot is a competitive, GMless RPG where your objective is to lose the game. Play proceeds in a series of rounds; once all of the rounds have been played out, the player with the highest score gets in the fucking robot.
To be clear, this is a bad thing. It does not end well for you. From an in-character perspective, your character may very much want to get in the fucking robot, but as a player your goal is to prevent this outcome by any means necessary. You can do this both by avoiding scoring opportunities for yourself, and by forcing other players to score.
Once it's been determined who gets in the fucking robot, a short epilogue follows in which the losing players collaborate to describe the horrible things that happen to the lucky winner.
Get in the Fucking Robot requires the following paraphernalia:
The first order of business is to have a quick brainstorming session – ideally no more than ten minutes – to figure out why you have a giant robot and what sort of apocalypse needs dealing with. The important questions to answer, in order, are:
Take a few minutes to discuss each of these questions. If you're stuck for answers, you can use the tables in Appendix A for inspiration.
Once you've got the scenario sorted out, it's time to create your characters. The next section covers that part in detail.
Your character has two traits with rules attached to them: a role, and a trio of attributes.
Each player must choose one of the following six roles. No two players should choose the same role. Each role comes with a pair of abilities; how these work is discussed in the next section.
This isn't your first rodeo, and you've Seen Some Shit that makes you very sure you don't want to get in the fucking robot – if only you could convince yourself that you have a choice in the matter.
You're brash, loudmouthed, and obviously the most suitable candidate to get in the fucking robot. Or that's what you tell anyone who will listen, anyway; deep down, you're not sure if you believe it yourself.
You were made to get in the fucking robot, possibly literally. For you it's strictly business, which is exactly why your heart's not really in it. Can you really save the world just by going through the motions?
You're not here to prevent the Apocalypse. Quite the opposite, in fact. It'll be a bad time if you get in the fucking robot. Trouble is, you kind of don't want to destroy the world; it's where you keep all your stuff!
You're great at supporting others, but secretly you resent being taken for granted. You've never thought it might be you to get in the fucking robot, and you wouldn't be mentally prepared if you did!
You only found out about apocalypses and giant robots yesterday. They say you have that special something that's needed to get in the fucking robot, but surely there's been some mistake?
In addition to your role, your character is defined by three attributes: Apathy, Alienation, and Self-Loathing. Each attribute represents a different mode of emotional disconnection.
Distribute nine points among the three attributes. You must place at least three points in your role's key attribute, while the other two attributes have a minimum rating of one. You may not place more than five points in any attribute.
Apathy represents disconnection from your circumstances. Apathy is a key attribute for the Pro because they're so burned out, the end of the world is just another day at work for them, while the Novice is simply in denial about the seriousness of their situation. Apathy is overcome by the attitude of Enthusiasm.
Alienation represents disconnection from other people. Alienation is a key attribute for the Traitor because they can't let people get close for fear of blowing their cover, while the Hero doesn't see any point in connecting with others because of their own impending doom. Alienation is overcome by the attitude of Vulnerability.
Self-Loathing represents disconnection from yourself. Self-Loathing is a key attribute for the Mascot because they don't value their own strength, while the Rival has the opposite problem: their expectations for themselves are unreasonably high, and they blame themselves for not living up to them. Self-Loathing is overcome by the attitude of Empathy.
What each attribute's opposing attitude means will be covered in the next section.
For each of your attributes, write down something about you that means it would be a bad idea for you to get in the fucking robot.
For an attribute rated 1–2, write down something small or subjective – something that makes you think you shouldn't, but that isn't necessarily a big deal from anybody else's perspective. e.g., “I don't think I work hard enough to deserve it.”
For an attribute rated 3–4, write down something that makes it likely to end badly for you. e.g., “I push myself so hard because I have an unacknowledged death wish.”
For an attribute rated 5, write down something that just makes it objectively a bad idea for everyone concerned. e.g., “I secretly want to cleanse the world in blood and fire, and if I get in the robot I'm probably going to do it.”
Come up with a name for your character, and jot down a few notes about their appearance – just enough for the other players to know who they're talking to. You can put some thought into their backstory as well, but don't write it down; let those details emerge as they become relevant in play.
Play proceeds in a series of turns. Starting with the biggest anime fan of the group and working clockwise around the table, each player takes a single turn. A set of turns where every player has gone once comprises a round.
A round can represent any amount of narrative time, depending on the exact scenario your group has invented. In some scenarios, the apocalypse may be mere hours away, while in others it may be weeks out. By default, it's assumed that one round represents the passage of one day.
(These rules specifically do not endorse announcing “dawn of the first/second/final day” at the start of each round, but that's not going to stop anyone, is it?)
Before the first round begins, put your sheet of paper in front of you, and place the number of tokens in each circle equal to your rating in the corresponding attribute. The number and type of tokens you possess must be publicly displayed to the other players at all times.
When it's your turn, carry out the following steps:
Choose a player other than yourself. You and the player you chose are the focus players for this turn; the player you chose is your partner, and you, conversely, are theirs.
In a game with four or more players, you may not choose the same player who was chosen on the previous turn. (i.e., the same player cannot be chosen two turns in a row – though they can participate in two turns in a row if one of those turns was their own!) This restriction doesn't apply in a game with only three players.
Briefly frame a scene where the two of you interact. This could be a training session, a team building exercise, a beach episode, a weirdly intimate piano recital, etc. Unless it's the first turn of a new round, you can decide that the current scene is a continuation of the previous one if you wish. If you're not sure what sort of scene to frame, you can ask the other players to help you brainstorm, or roll on the tables provided in Appendix A.
Pick up one of the sets of index cards, and secretly select one of the three attitudes. Place your chosen card face-down in front of you, so that only you know what it says; don't touch it again until these rules say so. Your partner should do the same.
The attitude of Enthusiasm represents engagement with the situation at hand. It's not necessarily cheerful – in-your-face aggression also qualifies as Enthusiasm. Enthusiasm overcomes the attribute of Apathy.
The attitude of Vulnerability represents a willingness to let your true feelings show. It's not necessarily pretty – a messy emotional breakdown also falls under Vulnerability. Vulnerability overcomes the attribute of Alienation.
The attitude of Empathy represents the effort to understand. It's not necessarily sympathetic – calling someone out on their bullshit is also a form of Empathy. Empathy overcomes the attribute of Self-Loathing.
(You can pick any attitude you want, regardless of your current attribute ratings. All characters in Get in the Fucking Robot are extremely good at fronting!)
Play out the established scene. Your play should be consistent with the attitude you chose in the previous step, though you're allowed to send mixed signals.
Non-focus players may insert themselves into the scene at any plausible opportunity to lend emotional support to one side or the other. If the scene is framed in a way that makes it implausible anyone else would be present, non-focus players may still lend emotional support by narrating quick flashbacks, imagine spots where one of the focus characters pictures what they would say if they were present, or similar contrivances. Keep track of who supported whom – you'll need to know in a moment.
When the scene reaches a natural stopping point, pick up three dice. If any non-focus players lent you emotional support, pick up one additional die per player who supported you. Your partner should do the same.
You may each now spend up to three tokens from a single attribute (i.e., Apathy, Alienation or Self-Loathing). You may spend zero tokens if you wish. The attribute you spend from should be consistent with whatever is most holding you back this scene, but ultimately this is on the honour system. The player who framed the scene can choose whether to spend their tokens first or second.
You and your partner flip your cards face-up. If your partner's attitude overcomes the attribute you spent tokens from, those tokens are discarded without effect; play out how your partner's attitude gets to you in a way you weren't expecting.
If your attribute wasn't overcome, reduce the number of dice in your hand by the number of tokens you spent. Your dice may be reduced to zero in this way.
Discard all spent tokens.
Roll your dice and total the results; your partner should do the same. If you roll zero dice, your total is zero.
The player with the highest total marks two points of Confidence. If there's a tie, each player marks one point of Confidence instead.
Conclude the scene appropriately.
Each role has two abilities: a Focus ability, and a Support ability. Focus abilities only take effect when you are one of the focus characters in a scene, while support abilities take effect whenever you lend emotional support.
A role ability has a specific action or circumstance that triggers it, and one of two effects: adding dice to someone's hand, or allowing to to recover a token. While most role abilities are self-explanatory, a few clarifications are provided here:
The endgame phase begins when at particular set of criteria has been met. By default, this happens upon reaching the end of the third round – that is, after every player has taken three turns. The current scenario may introduce other endgame triggers.
Once the endgame has been reached, the player with the highest Confidence total gets in the fucking robot.
Using the answers noted during the Your Damage step, collaborate as a group to describe the winner's horrible fate. If all of the winner's attributes are rated 4 or lower, it only needs to end badly for them; however, if they have any attributes rated at 5, the whole world goes down with them.
If two players are tied for the highest Confidence, play out one final scene. This scene follows all the usual rules, and other players may provide emotional support as they normally would. Whoever achieves the highest roll in this final scene gets in the fucking robot.
If the tie-breaking roll also results in a tie, it's too late: the Apocalypse has arrived while you were arguing about who should get in the fucking robot. Everybody wins!
If there's a three-way tie for highest Confidence going into the endgame, you're on your own.
Choose or roll 1d6 on each of the following lists.
Roll 1d6 to determine a scene category, then 1d6 again to choose a specific scene type.
| d6 | Scene Category | d6 | Scene Type |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1–3 | Official business | 1 | Giant robot combat simulation |
| 2 | Team-building activity | ||
| 3 | Hand-to-hand sparring exercise | ||
| 4 | Lunch at giant robot headquarters cafeteria | ||
| 5 | Performing maintenance on the giant robot | ||
| 6 | Group therapy session | ||
| 4–5 | Unofficial business | 1 | Friendly outing or date |
| 2 | Roommate drama | ||
| 3 | Attending a party or concert | ||
| 4 | Hitting the gym | ||
| 5 | Doing something stupid to blow off steam | ||
| 6 | Fight or unsanctioned duel | ||
| 6 | The weird stuff | 1 | Shared dream sequence |
| 2 | Trauma flashback | ||
| 3 | Genre shift (e.g., beach episode) | ||
| 4 | Non-apocalypse-related paranormal encounter | ||
| 5 | Non-canon “what if?” scenario | ||
| 6 | Tabletop RPG night |
Social Fatigue
A problem you may might into with more tactically minded players is that when someone takes an early lead, all of the lower-scoring players may decide to gang up on them and shower them with screen time and support in order to grow that lead. If that's something your group wants to discourage, you can give the following rules a try:
If these rules are in play, they entirely replace the regular rule that you can't be chosen as a partner two scenes in a row; like that rule, they're only appropriate for games with four or more players.