Last week, my good friend Tara of the GeekyHostess threw one of the strangest dinner parties I’ve ever been to. All we knew upon arrival was that we should wear “whatever you would normally wear to a reading of a will for a distant relative/acquaintance in his fancy home. ” I took this opportunity to wear a lacy black dress from H&M I don’t have nearly enough reasons to wear, black heeled boots from Cathy Jean, purple tights, emerald nail polish, a peacock feather pendant, a sock bun and my favorite piece of jewelry – a “poison ring”, which has a hidden compartment for storing things.
We arrived at Tara’s place and were met with the creepiest tea party I have ever seen. Don’t get me wrong: the food and drinks looked amazing (Tara always outdoes herself); no, it was the dolls placed everywhere with broken faces and bleeding eyes that set my teeth on edge.
Then, even though I was surrounded by my best friends, we entertained the most forced, awkward dinner conversation of all time – pretending no one knew each other and all had to discover how we were acquainted with the deceased (Harold Winchester the Third, a man who loved dolls more than anything else). It was the craziest meta-game ever. I can’t even explain it.
After dinner was the reading of the will, or rather, a game of Betrayal at House on the Hill where we were instructed to find Harold’s favorite room in the house so the will could be read there. The only catch – we were the characters in the game. Quite literally:
The game turned into a crazed hunt through the house to find the voodoo doll versions of ourselves and destroy them before Harold’s equally frightening attorney could kill us as keep us as dolls in his newly inherited collection forever. I was a paper doll, as seen above. I died.
I don’t want to spoil too much, as Tara is writing up a post on her own blog about the evening, and there’s a Team Hypercube video about the event as well. Basically it was another perfect example of how weird/awesome my friend group is, and how I don’t think we’re even capable of doing anything normal. Of course we’d attend a murder tea party. Of course we would.
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