Death by Chocolate

This past weekend, our RWA chapter ran off to the mountains for our annual weekend retreat. I live for this weekend. I wait all year for it to come around again. We stay at the most wonderful little inn and they take fabulous care of us despite being so loud and crazy. I have so much fun each year. The talking, the laughing, the eating, and of course...the murder party. I am such a nerd, but I get all excited about it. I know several other playfriends are luke warm at the prospect, but Instigator and I have a really good time with it. We channel our inner divas and go nuts.

Last year I organized the game, so I wore a costume, but I didn't really participate aside from being facilitator. This year, I turned it over to PC so I could play. Our game was set as a bridal shower at a chocolate themed day spa. We had a chocolate fountain with tons of goodies and PC made delicious chocolate martinis. There were chocolate heiresses, race car drivers, gold-diggers, catty bridesmaids and me - an uber biyatch. I was a stockbroker who had not only lost a lot of people's money, I was completely unremorseful about it. I had no problem sharing what I thought about my BFF's upcoming marriage, and I gloated about being maid of honor over the other bridesmaids. Honestly, I was so loud and irritating, anyone could have killed me. I wanted to kill me.

I had a special surprise planned for everyone when my time came to die. I was supposed to be poisoned, so I worked up to it, complaining about a stomachache on and off for a while. A few people thought I was actually sick, so I did a pretty good job, I think. It progressively got worse until I slipped some alkaseltzer and starting rabidly foaming at the mouth. I dramatically collapsed to the floor amongst screams and much activity I missed (being dead and all).

I have to say my people can be cold. Last year, everyone at least pretended to be upset after Big Jim was shot. Me? Oh no...as I lie there dead, I was robbed of my money and shoes, called names, and half-heartedly moved (and dropped) because the spa owner didn't want a dead body in her lobby. I certainly did not need to know that it took that many people to carry me 2 feet, even as dead weight. I was not a good dead body. I kept laughing. I couldn't help it. I had to cover my face with a napkin when they tried performing CPR on me because I was laughing so hard.

The best part was that everyone went to dinner and I changed into my second character - a wacky psychic. I was a looney bin. I wandered around muttering about the spirits and what they were telling me. I would show people various tarot cards and shake my head in dismay before dashing off to talk to someone else. One person said I needed the thick glasses and I would've been a spot on Professor Trelawney from HP. I had a lot of fun stirring things up after dinner, too. I'm surprised they didn't kill my new character off just because I was obnoxious.

I'd hardly claim myself to be an actress of any sort, but this was so much fun it was easy for me to do it. When in doubt, go over the top. I just feel bad for the girls that came in to paint our nails. In the five minutes I was sitting with them, I yelled words that curled their toes and nearly got in a cat fight with Instigator. Didn't chip a nail, though. :)

Do you have an inner actress waiting to get out? Have you ever done one of these parties? Would you rather sit them out or are you fired up to play?

SP