Ma Vie En Prose

First off, I'd like to make it clear that I did not do it.

Last night, my friend LadyL threw a Murder Mystery Party. This is the second such party she's put together. However, last night's shindig was different from the first. Ya see, the first was prepackaged. It literally came in a box. All the characters had scripts, and there was little improv. Last night's affair was pure product de LadyL. Every character had an extensive description and a few clues they were obligated to provide. Everyone even had a "suggested" quirk. However, there was a lot of room to make each character unique in any fashion. This was probably my favorite part. (I was the veteran of some nonspecific war with too much money and too little class.) We could goof off in any direction we pleased without much risk of messing up the game. The night was structured, but not rigid (another cool feature), thus allowing our fine host to spontaneously alter things when alterations were necessary.

A few random elements of the evening . . .
-The murdered guy was my long, lost father.
-The murdered guy was gay.
-The murdered guy's estranged son was also gay.
-The murdered guy's childhood friend and priest was gay. Can you tell that LadyL really likes theatre?
-The French maid was as crazy as a shithouse rat.
-The Texas stock broker was obsessed with the idea that people were looking at his ass, but he wasn't gay.
-The hostess, played by LadyL, was a lesbian.
-The vegetarian environmentalist might have been a lesbian.
-It was very important that everyone knew that my character was not gay.
-I didn't know in what war I fought. Apparently, I tried to stop the Red Baron from killing Lincoln in Normandy by attacking his Iraqi troops in Saigon . . . or something like that.
-Everyone had sex with the French maid at some point in the past. Maybe she turned them all gay.
-The duchess was adamant that she was not then and had never been a duke.
-The ninja sucked at sneaking.
-There is something called earlobe cancer, and it will kill you.
-There is something called a Tiki Death Grip and it will kill you . . . unless you get penicillin.
-I learned that several of my friends know how to say "Miss Big Tits" in French.
-A vegetarian, potentially-lesbian environmentalist looks really sexy smoking a cigar.
-Soy substitute is made from chicken.

That's all for now. I had a great time. I can't wait for the next one.