A round
One press, and it is the only thing you decide
Nine slots along the top of the board. You press one, the ball goes, and from that moment it is physics. There is no aiming, no power and no nudging it on the way down — which is not driving with the hard parts removed, it is the honest shape of the machine this comes from.
What the press actually buys you is a region. A ball wanders sideways as it falls, but only so far: one let go on the left cannot reach the right-hand edge, so choosing a slot is choosing which third of the field the ball will spend its life among. The values are printed on the board in front of you, so it is a real decision made with complete information and an uncertain outcome.
The score is a product
Every peg the ball touches multiplies your score by what that peg is worth. Most of them are worth one and leave the number where it was; a handful are worth two or three, and a few each round are gold and worth five. A ball touches eight or nine pegs on the way down, so a drop is three or four multipliers stacked on each other and the difference between a dull ball and a famous one is one bounce.
That makes the arithmetic something a table can read off the board while it happens rather than something the software announces afterwards. The number under the board goes up as the ball reaches each peg, and it is the same list the scoreboard is written from. The most one ball can be worth is 999, which about one drop in a hundred and fifty reaches.
Everybody drops into the same field
A round deals one field and every person plays it: identical pegs, identical values, taken in turns with the rest of the table watching. So a round measures the people rather than the deal — if somebody scored four times what you did, they were not given a better board.
It is still not the same ball. Each one is released with a small sideways push chosen at the moment of the press, so pressing whatever worked for the person before you does not buy their score. Between rounds the field is thrown away and a new one dealt, with more gold in it each time.
The charm arms your next ball, not this one
After your drop you are shown three charms and take one, and it applies to the ball you have not dropped yet — on a field that has not been dealt yet. A wider ball clips far more pegs. A livelier one crosses more of the board and listens to you less. A steadier one stays close to the slot you chose. A gilded row doubles one whole row. A second ball goes down the slot next door and both scores count.
Committing a turn early is the point of it. The two charms that buy you more multipliers also cost you most of what little control you had, so what you are really choosing is how much of next round you would like to be able to predict.
On the sheet
Questions people ask
Is there any skill in this at all?
Some, and it is honest about how much. You choose which region of the board to fall through and which charm to carry into the next round, and both of those move the odds a long way; you do not choose the bounces, and no amount of care will make a ball go where you want it. It is a game about a decision with an uncertain outcome rather than a game about being good at aiming.
Can I play it on my own?
Yes. Three fields, one ball each, and a number at the end to beat next time. What it has not got is a machine to play against, and it is not going to get one: a stand-in would be choosing a number between one and nine and then watching, which is not an opponent, it is the game playing itself while you sit there.
Does everybody get the same board?
Within a round, exactly the same one — the same pegs worth the same amounts, played in turn. Between rounds it is re-dealt. The only thing that differs between two people dropping into the same slot is a small sideways push the server chooses when the press lands, which is what stops the second person copying the first.
Is the ball animated on my computer, or is it real?
The fall is worked out on the server the instant you press, in whole, and what your browser plays is a recording of it. So every screen in the room shows the same ball at the same moment, a laptop that went to sleep wakes up in the right place, and the number on the board is the number on the scoreboard because they are the same list read twice.
What if I do not press in time?
It goes down the middle. You do not lose the turn and you do not get a nought — the ball falls from the centre slot and scores whatever it scores, which is what happens at a real machine when somebody lets go without looking.
Does anybody have to install anything to play The Drop?
No. It runs in the browser everyone already has open. One person opens a room, reads out the six-character code or pastes the link into the channel, and everyone else is at the table in a couple of seconds.
Do we need accounts?
No. There is no sign-up, no password and no email address anywhere in the flow. You pick a name when you sit down, and that is the whole of it.
How many people can play The Drop?
1 to 6 — best with four. A room seats up to 12.
How long does a game of The Drop take?
About 10 minutes, which is the length of a coffee break rather than the length of a games night. Nobody is the host in the sense of holding the controls, so a round finishes whether or not everyone is still looking at it.
Does it work over a video call?
That is what it is for. The game is on the screen and the talking is on the call — nobody has to describe a board to anybody, and the parts that must stay private stay on the server rather than being read out.
Credit where it is due
After Plinko, the pricing game from The Price Is Right (1983), and the older machines behind it — bagatelle, the bean machine, the pachinko parlour.