When I daydream about this deck, I'm a snake-mage who controls and is followed around by a constant, writhing entourage of snakes. They just sort of appear in my immediate vicinity like, all the f%cking time. People are always whispering to one another, "Is this guy just sh%tting out snakes all day long?" And the answer to that pretty closely resembles, "Yes. Yes I am. That's why you never see me in cramped spaces." I was thinking that I'd have to be careful not to get in a one-seater Kaladesh vehicle, because while I scoot around in my Sky Skiff, the cockpit is slowly filling up with snakes--obstructing my ability to pilot the craft, or even see out the windows. I would quite clearly crash into an orphanage, the cockpit would burst open causing a snake-splosion, and they'd all go ape-sh%t. The orphans, that is.
Some of you may not be acquainted with the way I build decks. Please don't yell at me for, "wasting Lotus Cobras on a bullsh%t flavor-fail deck," because you'll only be showcasing your own ridiculous clown-brain.
Construction
More like "constriction," amirite? Little snake humor for ya. Anyway, entirely unlike that insane ape that I sometimes play against who calls himself Jay-Key, I follow a strict set of principles--a code! I've built this deck with a couple of rules that are best described as:
1.) HAVE SNAKE, WILL TRAVEL | You gotta be a snake if you're serious about being in a snake deck. That means NO Ophiomancers. I don't need another human hanging around making snakes. That's MY shtick, see!? Also, NO Orochi or Naga, seeing as snakes don't actually have any arms. That's kind of the theme that I've observed among snakes during my travels.
2.) TWO WANGS, ONE MASTER | Snakes have two wangs (called a "hemipenis"), and they look crazy--but if any of these snakes are members of a guild, a faction, or a clan, then they can hiss off.
Consideration
Motivation: They hiss when they're happy, they hiss when they're sad, so just assume they're ecstatic and never 'gain feel bad.
Concerns: Two words: MONGOOSE DECK.
