Est. 1931 Night Edition
A white fedora and a smouldering cigarette on a table, city skyline behind

Maffia

One room
One phone each
No game master
No. 6 — Three players or more — Free

Parlour crime · Played in person · Settled by vote

The Phones Run The Night

Nobody has to sit out and read the script. Maffia deals the roles, speaks the narration, and keeps every secret it is given.

Three at a table is enough. More is better. Everybody brings a phone, one player opens the game, and a six-digit code puts the rest of the room into the same table. There is no host with a script and no friend left out to narrate: the phones do that work, and the phones do not gossip.

Roles are dealt in the dark. Mafiosos, who are told about each other and nobody else. A detective, who may ask after one name a night. A medic, who makes one house call. Civilians, who are told nothing at all and have to guess anyway. Each player looks once, at their own screen, and lies about it from then on.

When night falls, one voice speaks out of every phone at once — same words, same moment, no tells. The mafia picks a name. The medic covers a name. The detective asks after one. Then the sun comes up and the table learns who did not make it through.

Daylight is for accusations. The table talks it out and votes: sleep on it, or send somebody up the steps. The town wins when the last mafioso is gone. The mafia wins when the town runs out of people who might have noticed.

The whole table hears the same voice. Only your own screen knows who you are.

— The house, on the matter of tells

The Cast Of Characters

A man in a fedora and overcoat lighting a match behind window blinds
The Mafioso Awake at night, alibi by morning. Knows his own kind, and votes with the town to prove it.
A detective in a hat examining a red notebook through a magnifying glass
The Detective One name a night, checked and confirmed. Cannot prove a word of it in daylight.
A doctor with a bag walking out of a streetlamp's cone of light
The Medic One house call a night, made in the dark. Occasionally to the right door.
A young man in a flat cap holding a newspaper under a streetlamp
The Civilian No gun, no badge, no bag. One vote, one bad feeling, and the nerve to say it out loud.

Classified Notices

Wanted · Small sums · No obligation

Keep The Presses Running

The server is paid for out of one pocket and kept running by one pair of hands. Maffia costs nothing to play and carries no advertising. If the game has earned an evening of your time, a small donation keeps the lights on.

Much obliged.

Buy the man a coffee

Entirely voluntary. Nothing in the game is held back from anyone who does not.