The Game

Tina sat on the edge of her bed. I sat in a chair across from her, looking into her eyes. "You need to relax, Tina," I said.

"Oh, I was planning a little something special," she said, and gave me a wink. "You'll love it."

Eric was my roomate. "Tomorrow's Thursday, right? Yeah, I guess he'll be working." I said. "I'm going to catch up on some of my reading."

"You can't let J--, I mean, you can't let that man do this to you." I dropped my head. "I wish you'd let me help you."

A few months ago, Tina got out of a very abusive relationship with a wealthy reptile named Jim. Jim went on to date another girl, Lacey, but Lacey dropped him like a smelly gym sock when she found out what he'd done to Tina. Jim is not the kind of person who gracefully handles rejection.

"You are helping me, Tommy," she said and lifted my face up to hers. "You're the one who helped that man know that he can't just push me around. You're the one who thought of the restraining order. You're the one who... well, who sits on my chair and listens to me."

"You mean the hypnosis," she said. "I told you that I don't want to go around clucking like a chicken."

"Tina," I said. "Please trust me. I'll just put you under, let you rest without thinking about him, then give you a little suggestion, a trigger that we can use to get you back into that restful state whenever you want."

"We make up a nonsense word. When you say it to yourself, or when I say it to you, you'll drop back into a deep sleep, from which you'll wake when you are rested." I said.

She took a deep breath. "Ugmortigen," she said. "That'll be the word. What do I have to do?"

I wound up the small mechanical metronome a friend gave me for this sort of thing. On the end of the pendulum arm is a small piece of quartz. It catches the light in really interesting and soothing ways as the metronome's inverted pendulum swings back and forth.

I started the metronome. "It's nothing special," I said in my most soothing voice, "just a stone on a pendulum... It swings left and right... left and right... left and right... just watch it... let your mind drift free... like a summer day... feeling the breeze... left and right..."

As I spoke, she began to relax. The hands that were fidgeting slowed, and then lay still in her lap. Her chest rose and fell just slightly with her soft and regular breaths. Her brown eyes closed and, after a while, her chin fell to her chest, and her lovely straight brown hair fell like a sheet over her face.

I watched her sit there, deeply asleep, for a very long time. I did not touch her, or even speak to her once she dropped her head. I just watched her, and thought how beautiful she was, how precious. I walked around her, watching her, hoping to burn her beauty into my mind, my memory, so deeply that nothing else could touch it.

I walked behind her, and knelt on the bed. The shifting mattress caused her to sink backwards into my arms, her head falling against my bicep. I wrapped my arm around her waist, and lifted her up a bit. I dragged her back onto the bed, and lay her down gently on the pillows. She was wearing jeans and a tank top, which now showed a bit of her bare midriff, but I knew she'd sleep the night. I undid her sandals, and set them on the floor next to the bed. I unplugged the phone, and turned off the alarm. I turned off the light, put the chair up against the door to her room and sat down there, facing her and her window. No one would disturb her until morning; I'd make sure of that.

2. Invitation

Just as I told Tina, my roommate Eric was working Thursday night. Around 8:00, I heard someone knock on the door.

I walked over and opened the door. There didn't appear to be anyone there. I was about to close the door again when a lovely lady in a dark green business suit slid over onto my feet and lay there. She must have been sitting against the door post.

I was captivated by her lovely form and her beautiful long auburn hair. She wasn't moving.

I stepped back a bit to let the woman fall more onto her back, then bent over to smooth some of the hair from her face. I was sure that I'd never met her. I'd certainly remember.

Then I noticed the envelope pinned to her jacket. "Tommy, you'd better get me inside," was written on it.

After a moment's puzzlement, I realized the wisdom of the envelope's advice. I don't think it would be good for strangers to see me standing over an unconscious woman.

I lifted her under the arms, and I watched her head droop forward and her hair spray back down into her face. I dragged her back inside. I genly let her fall onto her back on the carpet in the living/dining/TV/computer room. (It was a small apartment.)

No doubt about it, she was stunning. Fair skin (not much makeup), soft lips slightly parted, lovely red hair falling this way and that. She breathed softly, and I watched her chest rise and fall a few times.

She didn't come around. I got up and headed for a phone when I saw a man knock at the door frame. I suddenly realized that I hadn't closed the door after dragging the woman in.

The man in my door was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said "Love the Game." The words were written above a cartoon of two sleeping women clad solely in their underwear. Under his arm, he carried an old, worn coffee-table-sized book.

"Look, mister," I said. "I just found her there! Honestly! I was just about to call 911!"

"On her jacket," he said. "Did you open the envelope on Caroline's jacket? The one with your name on it."

More than a little hesitantly, I headed back for the woman Caroline where she lay on the floor. I unpinned the envelope from her jacket, making sure I didn't touch her more than I had too. John sat down on the couch, his eyes on Caroline, a smile on his face.

"The Game," he said, "is an activity that the ladies have conducted annually since about 1955." He looked in the book he was carrying. "Sorry, 1956."

"The Game," he said. "It has no other name. It was so scandalous in the '50s that no one dared speak of it."

He stood up and walked over to Caroline. "The 'victims' are the players in the game, the 'Death Mistress' is something like a referee, and the 'Charon' or 'Charons' are judges, though they have other duties."

He knelt down by Caroline's side, pulled back her jacket, and removed a small, cheap water pistol and a thin stack of index cards from under her skirt's waistband. "The ladies shoot each other with water guns like this," he said, "and you, as Charon, get to judge how well they die, and how well they stay dead."

"Or cover your eyes or something, Tommy," he continued. "It's bad luck for the Charon to see the victim arise."

I must admit that I was surprised. I opened my eyes. Caroline stood by her husband, wearing a soft white blouse, a calf-length green skirt, and heels. Her jacket was on the couch; she must have laid it there. So she was only acting!

Caroline spoke again, "We won't go into all the details now, since I don't want to be here when your roommate returns. Probably the best way to do this is to just play a little sample game." She looked at her husband.

"You're the Charon, Tommy," he said, "I'll be the Death Mistress and Caroline will be the Victim. Normally one of the other future victims would do most of the shooting, but I'll just have to do that as well."

Without warning, John shot his wife with the water pistol, dampening her blouse just above her skirt line. Caroline looked at him in shock, then aimed a pleading look at me, then dropped soundlessly to the floor in a heap.

"OK, Tommy," John said, "on the card it says who will be shot (Caroline), where (your apartment), and what you are to remove after she's done her scene. In this case, it's her heels."

I did as he was told. I tried to be gentle. I could tell, even when I just lifted her feet an inch or so and undid the buckles on her shoes, just how limp she was. It was also hard to miss how lovely she was, lying there crumpled, hair and arms and legs piled up like dirty clothes.

John handed me a pen, and told me to write a score in the box. He suggested a 1-10 scale.

John the Acting Death Mistress took the card from me, then handed me another. "Keep the pen," he said.

I hurried off to the bathroom. Soon, I'd understand why Tina had come over earlier to help me clean it up.

After a moment, Caroline wordlessly walked into the bathroom, now in her stocking feet. I was standing over by the tub, and she took a couple of steps toward me. Her husand popped up in the doorway behind her and shot her in the back, mid-stride. I saw Caroline's eyes roll back, and then she fell forward onto me, knocking both of us into the tub.

After I got over the initial shock, and saw that Caroline was lying limply against me, I struggled and managed to get my behind up on the side of the tub, Caroline in my lap like a bag of sand. As I tried to catch my breath, Caroline poured off my thighs like water onto the floor, coming to rest with her head between the toilet and tub.

Caroline's skirt fastened with a set of buttons on the side. Afraid they'd change their minds, I quickly undid the buttons. She was wearing a slip underneath, silky and white. I slid the skirt off her hips and over her legs. I wrote "10" on the card which I had laid on the counter by the sink.

The bedroom was just down the hall from the bathroom. I picked out a spot near the dresser where I could see the whole room and still be out of the way.

Caroline came in, now dressed only in her blouse, slip, and hose. Her husband walked behind her into the doorway. She walked over to my twin bed, lay down on her side, face toward me, away from John, and said, "OK."

He "sneaked" up on her, step by step. She lay there still, her eyes closed, softly breathing. He closed my hands around her neck.

Suddenly, she was awake. She struggled and kicked and fought to free herself from my grasp, to no avail. She squirmed around on the bed, pretending to gasp for air. He'd lift her to almost seated, and then push her down again, never releasing his hold on her neck.

She stopped for a moment, turning all the panic off like a light. "Oh, right," she said.

She resumed her struggling and gasping, but more fitfully now, and soon, she let out one long wheeze, closed her eyes, and stopped moving altogether.

John started unbuttoning her blouse, then looked at me and said, "Oh, yeah, right. That's your job."

He climbed off the bed, leaving Caroline lying there, her blouse half undone. She was wearing a white silk bra, and it was clear now that the slip was a half-slip.

I unbuttoned the blouse, straightened her legs, and rolled her onto her stomach. Doing so caused her feet and knees to slip off the mattress. She slid onto the floor, the slip moving up her legs to show her knees and some of her thighs.

I pulled the blouse off her arms, and tossed it onto the bed. She lay there on the floor, face down, unmoving. I wrote another "10" on the card.

John handed me a small perfume bottle, the kind with the little squeeze bulb on one side.

"They call it Sleep Spray," he said. "It's a mild sedative. You give it to the ladies after their last scene, then carry or drag them over to the Gamma Gamma Sig parlor, which is called 'The Morgue.' The spray helps them stay 'dead' until noon Sunday."

"So, that's why the judge is called Charon, after the Greek bearer of the dead," I said.

"Smart boy," John said. "Since you're a man, you get a special present on Sunday. It's not often that the ladies trust a man enough to serve as Charon. I was the last and that was, er, 10 years ago."

"All right, fifteen," he said. "Now hurry up and spray her so we can get out of here. One squirt should do. She needs to make sure the stuff works, but I have to get her up for work in the morning."

I leaned over and pulled the hair back from her face. She lay there unmoving, her eyes peacefully closed. One small puff from the perfume bottle. She inhaled a bit deeper, and I saw little droplets of Sleep Spray on her nose and cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered a bit, but that was it. She lay as she was.

John put the old book he carried on the dresser. I could see now the words The Book of the Game emblazoned on the cover.

He lifted Caroline onto the bed, reached under her, and lifted her into his arms. She looked like a very lovely rag doll.

When I reached the main room, however, I saw that another surprise had been arranged for me. The floor was littered with Gamma Gamma Sigma sisters, all lying shoulder-to-shoulder on their backs with their eyes closed, all wearing jeans and "Love the Game" T-shirts. They were barefoot.

"Say, Tommy," Caroline's husband said, "why don't you introduce me to your friends."

He sat down on the sofa with the unconscious Caroline in his lap. He lifted her a bit so that her head rested on his shoulder.

"You know Tina Stallworth, don't you?" I asked as I indicated the leftmost girl, whose right hand was on her stomach, and her left hand palm-up at her side, her straight brown hair neatly tucked behind her.

"Tina's a theater major, " I continued, "from Miami." I gently touched the side of her face with the back of my hand. She let out a little sigh and her head turned limply toward the next in line. I reached across her, grabbed her shoulder and hip, and rolled her towards me onto her stomach. She lay there very still.

"There's a lot more I could say about Tina," I added, "but I'd better continue the introductions."

I stepped over Tina, knelt down and gently touched the cheek of the next woman in line, a petite lady with curly red hair. Her head fell into profile with a low breathy moan.

"This is Stephanie Washington, a Chemistry major from Michigan," I said. "She likes to play a little rough."

I stepped between Stephanie and the next girl, careful not to put weight on their arms or hands. I bent over, placed a hand beneath Stephanie's shoulder and hips, and rather forcefully threw her onto her stomach. Stephanie came to a rest near to Tina, legs slightly spread, one hand falling across the small of Tina's back. She also lay very still.

The next "victim" had thick black hair tied into a ponytail, curly strands escaping here and there. She was taller than the other girls, and very shapely. "Lisa Winter," I said, "journalism major and future Pulitzer Prize winner."

As I touched Lisa's cheek, she sighed softly and turned her head as the others had. I gently turned her onto her stomach, next to Stephanie. Lisa's leg lay across Stephanie's when she came to rest, their bare feet touching.

"Lovely Lacey Barron," I continued, indicating the blonde beauty lying in a toss of long curls. "Smart too," I continued. "She's a math major from San Diego."

As I touched Lacey's face, she took a little gasp, then, with a soft sigh, let her head fall to her left. After I rolled Lacey onto her stomach, I tenderly brushed her hair from her face.

The next woman was larger than the other girls, with a pretty face, soft as a baby's. She wore her deep brown hair in a ponytail which spilled onto her left shoulder. I touched her cheek as well and it fell a little awkwardly onto its side.

"Melanie van Stott," I said, "Stephanie's best friend. She's also a chemistry major from Michigan, but they never met each other until they joined Sigma Sigma Gamma."

I turned Melanie onto her stomach as well, but since she had a wider girth than the Lacey, she ended up laying partly across the blonde's back. "Melanie's one of the nicest people I know," I added. Melanie face turned a little pink.

Next in line was a woman whose long red hair streamed out above her head, mixing with the dark strands of the woman next to her.

"This is Sarah McCain," I said. "She grew up in London and she's a political science major."

At the touch of my hand, Sarah sighed a breathy "Aaah!" and turned her head toward the dark haired beauty beside her. I turned her over, and then smoothly combed through her hair with my fingers, until it streamed out again above her head.

"No," Caroline's husband responded, and moved Caroline so that her head fell back, mouth opened, and her own lovely red hair fell in waves toward the floor.

"They're close," I said, and then turned my attention to the lovely woman who was next in line.

"Jessica Brooks," I said. At the touch of my hand on her cheek, she tensed up momentarily, then sunk down again with a nice little "Oooh".

As I turned her over, I said, "She looks like a supermodel, but she's going to be a doctor. She's a pre-med."

The next girl had short black hair and a very slight tan. She was a tall woman, with long long legs and lovely curves. At my touch, she shook as if electrocuted, jostling the lovely bespectacled woman next to her, until coming to a rest, her head turned like the others.

"Kim Wise," I said. "English major and world-class ham." I saw the edges of Kim's mouth turn up just the slightest bit at that.

I took each of Kim's arms and raised them over her head, Then I flipped her quickly onto her stomach, so that her arms remained over her head, laying across Sarah's and Jessica's hair. "She likes it a little rough, too," I said.

I looked at the last girl, the only one who still lay on her back. "Tammy Cohen," I said with a sigh. "Tammy, Tammy, Tammy. What am I going to do with you?"

The girl momentarily absorbing my attention was a small girl with brown wavy hair which fell across part of her face. She was wearing glasses. Her left hand lay against her throat, her right by her side.

I gently removed her glasses, folded them, and put them in my shirt pocket. I touched her face. It fell quickly away from me, more hair spilling across her cheek.

"So this is Tammy Cohen," John said from the couch. "Caroline is the only Sigma Sigma Gamma to ever win The Game three times, which is quite a feat. Caroline told me last year about this girl, Tammy Cohen, who had won twice, and she was only a sophomore then. She'd be a junior now. She was the only girl in the history of the sorority who even stood a chance of beating Caroline's record."

I rolled Tammy onto her stomach. "Tammy's another beautiful woman who's smarter than me," I said. "She's a physics major. From what you've just told me, she deserves something special."

I lifted Tammy under the arms. Her arms, head, and hair dangled down. I pulled her out over the other ladies, and then gently lowered her onto their backs. There were now nine lovely ladies, all lying face down on my floor, each with lovely rear-ends clad in denim, Tammy lying across the other eight.

After a moment of silence, Tina opened her eyes and said, "So you'll do it, right?"

Interlude

The phone rang once.

"Yeah?"

"There's something going on at the Walters place. About a half-dozen of the Sig sluts are there, along with an older couple that seem to hang out with them. Looks like some kind of weird ritual."

"See what Smallman can find out."

"Yes, sir."

It wasn't a dream. The old book which John brought was actually something of a scrapbook of The Game since its inception in 1956, complete with participant lists, lists of winners, snapshots and, for the past few years, CD-ROMs with pictures and movies. When my roommate came back about an hour after my unexpected guests left, The Book of the Game was the reading I was catching up on.

The 1950s

The earliest pictures in The Book were grainy black-and-white photos of young ladies with stiffly-sprayed hair lying about on the floor. They were mostly dressed in the kind of stuff you'd see on Happy Days, poodle skirts, bobby socks, shoes which seem more appropriate these days for bowling than dating.

To be honest, there weren't many photos from that time period which really stand out. I did like one shot where a young woman identified as Priscilla. (No last names are given in The Book, in keeping with the "forbidden" nature of the game.)

In the photo I liked best, Priscilla lay dangling out of the driver's-side door of a very sweet looking 1955 Ford Sunliner. Priscilla's long blonde hair, softer than usual for these photos, trailed onto the dusty ground, her mouth was open, her arms were extended, and her fluffy sweater was showing just the tiniest bit of her midriff before her very dark skirt and the frame of the car obscured the rest.

The 1960s

In the early '60s, the ladies began to appear in less and less clothes. The occasional color shot also began to appear. In fact, the photos around 1965 show some of the ladies apparently nude (the quality of the shots was still not very good). A note in the 1966 entry says, "Nudity no longer allowed." I'm not sure why that happened, but I later heard rumors that someone's boyfriend had gotten jealous, and someone else had gotten in trouble with the national sorority. Ah, well.

The best shot from this era, in my opinion, was a color shot from 1968, when the ladies apparently decided to play the game at a beach house during Spring Break. The color was kind of splotchy and not very realistic, like in an old postcard, but that added to the mystique, if you ask me. The principal subject was Daphne, a very attractive young lady with shoulder-length brown hair, a daisy stuck over her ear. She wore a tie-dye T-shirt and black bikini bottoms, and lay on her back on the sand, arms palms-up at her side, head turned to the right (toward the camera), lips parted, legs bent at the knee and turned at the waist. Her stomach was covered by the right arm of Phyllis, who lay face down perpendicular to Daphne, her short black hair in a permanent wave and her body clad in a red polka-dot bikini. Phyllis's other arm lay palm-up at her side, her legs together, her lovely bare feet pointed in the sand. These two: Daphne and Phyllis, were declared joint winners that year; it's easy to see why.

The 1970s

In the '70s, the picture quality got better, even if there were still a number of black-and-white shots. The yearly sections got longer here, including more pictures as the ladies were shown first fully dressed, then, with one less item, then two, then three. Many of the photos had a very big-haired victor blowing across the barrel of her water gun as her very big-haired victim lay beneath her foot, both often dressed in little more than bra and panties.

My personal favorite from the '70s, though, was a set of color pictures from 1977 with a tall woman with thick black hair who wore a Wonder Woman costume, complete with gold tiara, gold bracelets, red boots, gold belt and gold lasso. It was not Lynda Carter (The Book says it was someone named Mary Kate.), but she looked a lot like her.

In the first photo in the set she is in full costume, laughingly deflecting the burst of water with her gold bracelets.

The second photo shows her face down, a damp spot in her costume at the small of her back. Apparently, the bracelets don't keep you from being shot from behind. She lay on the floor, spread-eagle, her head turned to the side (again toward the camera), her long hair in her face. Magnificent.

In the third photo, she was missing her bracelets. She lay arched on her back over an ottoman, her arms and legs extended, her head back and touching the floor, cushioned by her thick black hair. She was apparently shot in the chest. If you looked closely (and I did), you could see little rivers of water running from her chest to her shoulders and neck.

In the fourth photo, she was sans tiara. In what seemed to be a twist on the famous chloroform scene from the "Fausta" episode of the TV series, she lay in someone's lap, her hair mussed, her legs spread, her arms out, a cloth on her chest. But she lay not in the lap of a male German spy. Instead she lay in the lap of a woman named Misty, who was dressed in hot pants and a bikini top. (Misty, it turns out, is Misty Lambert, Tina's mother.) She was limply lying against a wall, her head down, her very long very straight brown hair covering her face and some of "Wonder Woman" on its way down to a little pile on the floor. Her bare legs were akimbo beneath Mary Kate, her back bent, her right hand lying on Mary Kate's stomach, her left hidden behind her leg.

In the final photo, clearly taken in the Sigma Sigma Gamma parlor, Mary Kate lies on her back on the floor, arms at her sides, tied loosely there by her golden lasso, her legs together, her boots removed to reveal stocking feet. Wish I'd been there, but I hadn't been born yet.

I can never look at Tina's mom the same way anymore, by the way. There was a photo from the next year of Misty in a tank top and "Daisy Dukes" being carried by a fairly short man (possibly Tina's father -- no men are identified in The Book). He is shown in profile, walking down a hallway at the Sig house, Misty over his shoulder, her long hair trailing all the way down to the floor, sweeping along their path.

The 1980s

The 80s were apparently something of a troubled decade, both for Sigma Sigma Gamma and for the Game. There is no record of the Game being played in 1981 or 1982, and the sorority was placed on probation in the 1984-1985 academic year, so, while the Game was played in the summer of 1985, it is sparsely documented with only a single photo, a smiling head shot of the winner.

That said, there were quite a few pictures in those pages which gave me pause, shall we say. Also, there were a few descriptions of exceptional, often unphotographed scenes. For example, this scene from 1983, when the Game was once again played at the beach:

The photos from the 80s were filled with girls in leg warmers and leotards, reminding me of the movie Flashdance, and a few who must have thought it was cool to feather their hair and dress like early Madonna. The best pictures, by far, were the body piles.

In a lot of the pics before about 1983, the ladies appeared in their "final" photos lying side by side on their back. It was exciting because they were often wearing nothing but swimwear or lingerie, but still, the whole thing looked posed, not natural or spontaneous.

Starting with 1986, however, the final image for each year was almost invariably a pile of ladies, still wearing next to nothing, but jumbled on top of one another, as if they were uncermoniously dumped in position. This seems to coincide with the introduction of the Sleep Spray, developed by a team of Sigma Sigma Gamma chemistry majors and pre-meds. (The recipe for Sleep Spray is a closely guarded secret, for obvious reasons, and is not in The Book.)

Sleep Spray meant that when the women were finally out, they were completely out, and the Charons (male or female) could just pile them up, which they did. The resulting pictures are amazing. The 1987 pictures show the women all stacked up on the Sigma Sigma Gamma parlor floor, alternating face up and face down, all wearing swimwear of one kind or other. There are shots of the pile from a distance from a number of angles, and close-ups of individual women.

In 1988, the Game was played in a motel about an hour outside of town, and the final pile is in one of the rooms. A short-haired blonde named Carole lay on one of the room's double beds under Londrelle, a dark skinned beauty who lay face down over her, her head nearly buried in the pillow next to Carole's. Londrelle's long curls partly obscure Carole's face. Her bare feet were together, between Carole's. Londrelle wears a leopard-print bikini. It's difficult to see what Carole is wearing, since Londrelle covers her.

At the feet of Londrelle and Carole lay Stacy, also face-down, whose curly red locks spill over the edge of the bed and cover her face. She wears blue satin baby doll pajamas. Lying atop Stacy's feet is Cindy, on her back arched over Stacy, her head and short black hair hanging off the foot of the bed, her mouth wide open, her neck arched.

On the floor beneath Stacy's hair lay three women, Amanda, Tanya, and Marsha (Cindy's twin), piled together such that it is difficult to see which leg or arm belongs to which woman. Amanda wears a red teddy, Tanya a white one, and Marsha a blue.

The Game winner for that year (1988) was named Jackie, who, as it turns out, is my Tina's aunt. She lay alone and on her stomach on the other double bed. Pillows had been taken from the head of the bed and placed under her so that her silk-panty-clad rear end stuck up into the air. Placed on it was a little paper crown like they used to give away at Burger King. Closeups of her very lovely face show her mouth open and a little drool on the bedspread.

But all of this was prelude to the 1989, and the woman who would revolutionize the Game the way Wilt Chaimberlain revolutionized basketball.

The Caroline Years

While Caroline was a Sigma Sigma Gamma sister in 1988, but she didn't participate in the Game that year. Also, curiously, when she did start competing the next year, she's listed in the book as "Eva". It's unmistakably her, though. Even all these years later, you can tell.

Starting in 1989, "Eva" showed them all how to play. She introduced game innovations like furniture designed to harmlessly shatter beneath her as she fell, clothes designed to tear apart during her scenes, and co-operative multi-player "kills", where several women were shot at once. Starting in 1990, the word is that she took gymnastics, acrobatics and self-defense classes, partly to make her deaths more spectacular.

There's an amazing photo from 1991 where she is shown hanging over the side of the Sigma Sigma Gamma staircase, one foot seemingly caught between two of the posts supporting the bannister. Her arms and hair trail down toward the floor. She wore only a frilly white bra, white cotton panties, and a denim mini-skirt which hung down over her stomach.

The final picture from 1989 shows the 15 participants from that year piled up haphazardly on the parlor floor, as if they had been tossed in on top one another. Most of the girls had decided to wear biknis that year, the bright colors jumbling with the various flesh tones and hair shades. Caroline, however, wore a very simple black leotard, which set off her stunning auburn hair, long then as now, but gently curled. She lay face down atop the pile, a little paper crown on her behind.

In 1990, the ladies adjourned again to the beach for the Game, and the final shot shows the ladies laid out on the sand in the form of the uppercase greek letters Sigma, Sigma, Gamma, all wearing identical red two piece tankinis. Caroline lay stretched out beneath them, again face down with her little crown.

In 1991, Caroline's senior year, the final shot had the ladies stacked in the bed of a pickup, parked behind the sorority house. Many of the women wore very lacy negligee, some wore leotards or bikinis. They were laid carefully down in the bed, each on their side, though twisted slightly at their hips, their knees just reaching the end of the extended tailgate, their bare feet hanging down like limbs on a willow. Caroline was not in the bed, however. Another picture shows the cab of the truck, with Caroline in the drivers seat, one hand limply on top the steering wheel, her head falling out the open window, her mouth open, her hair trailing down the side. The little paper crown sat on the dash.

The Late 1990s and Early 2000s - Tammy's Movie

Caroline's dominance of the Game the three years she played seemed to reinvigorate interest among the sisters. In 1999, there were 25 ladies playing the game. There are a number of great photos in The Book for this period, but the most amazing is the collective work of my friend Tammy Cohen. (Her last name's not in The Book of course, but it's clearly her.)

Last year, Tammy apparently carried around a camcorder during her part, and burned the video to a DVD. It's included in an envelope in the book, and it's astounding, both for Tammy's beauty in her scenes, and in the originality with which she approached the game.

Tammy made her part in the game into a story unto itself. The video begins with Tammy in her apartment, before The Game started. She is wearing jeans and a plain pink T-shirt, and she looks very worried.

"Something weird is going on at Sigma Sigma Gamma this year, and I don't know if I'm going to make it through the next few hours. We usually play this game, see, where we all play dead. It's usually a lot of fun, but this year, well, people have been acting strangely. Caroline (She's the Death Mistress and Charon this year.) has been handing out these little rings... "

She held a little plastic ring, like the kind you get from Cracker Jack boxes, up to the camera, and continued: " ... See? ... and everyone who's put theirs on, even for a second has been acting, well, odd. I can't really describe it."

Tammy held the ring up, examining it. She took off her glasses and held the ring closer.

"It's not like it's all that special a ring," she said. Then, as she looked closer, she added, "Wait a minute. There's some kind of writing here!" She squinted, "Gero mos somnus intemporaliter. Hmm. Looks like Lati..."

Just then, Tammy's voice trailed off, her head drooped down, and her glasses fell from her hand and onto the floor. The other hand (her right hand) still held the ring, and then slowly, almost as if it had a will of its own, moved over and slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. As soon as the ring was on the limp left hand, the right hand also went limp at her side, and Tammy fell to her knees, and partly out of frame. Then, she woke up.

"What's the camera doing on?" she said, walked over, and, apparently, switched it off.

There was a fast cut to another shot, this one with Tammy, standing in the hallway in the Sigma Sigma Gamma house leading from the front door to the parlor, wearing a sleveless grey sweater and a very short denim skirt. She was barefoot. The picture wasn't framed as well as the earlier scene; she was kind of hunched down in front of the camera, and she was whispering.

"Something strange has been happening to me," she started. "I found this ring on my finger, and I don't know where it's from, and I can't get it off." She tugged at the ring on her left hand. "The other girls have rings like it, but they can put them on or take them off whenever they want. They say they got the rings from me, but I don't remember..."

Just then, she looked down the hall quickly, then nervously back to the camera. "I'm going to tape the Game tonight, or at least my part, just in case something happens. I want there to be evidence, so that someone can help me, so someone can know what's going..."

Her voice trailed off again, and her eyes grew blank. Then, she absentmindedly reached over to the camera and flipped it off.

Another fast, amateurish cut to a dimly lit room that I recognized as the sorority kitchen. Tammy stood next to the sink, the only light coming from the yard lights outside the window. "Watch!" she cried loudly, "Help me! Please!"

Just then, another sorority sister ran into the room, blasted Tammy with three shots from her water pistol without breaking stride, and then ran out of frame. She was moving so fast, it's hard to tell who it was.

Tammy jerked back against the counter, violently flailing her arms, and tossing her hair. Her glasses flew from her face. She uttered a gasp, then the words, "Burns... not like before..." Then she fell forward, hitting the floor face down with a smack. After a moment, Caroline walked into the frame, knelt beside Tammy (obscuring her unfortunately), then stood and walked out of the room in the direction the assailant had fled.

But Tammy did not arise. Her legs were now together, rather than spread like before, and her skirt was on the floor next to her very still body. She wore now the sleveless gray sweater and a pair of white panties. She did not move for a very long time. Then, she twitched several times, as if jolted by electricity, rose almost mechanically to her feet, and walked over to the camera. Her eyes were blank, her mouth slack.

She lifted the camera before her face, facing out. She then held out her water gun at arms length, so that it was on the video. She walked out of the kitchen and into the back yard. There, in the yard, a few yards from the hot tub stood my Tina, wearing a loose fitting men's shirt the tail extending down her bare legs. Her back was to the camera, to Tammy, to us. We walked mechanically over to Tina. Why didn't she hear us? Why didn't she turn around?

The water gun was now just inches from the back of Tina's neck, and the straight brown hair which covered it. We fired at the neck and the hair, and Tina's head kicked back, and she fell momentarily out of view.

We then looked down on her as she lay on her side, her head back, her legs bent, her arms bent, her mouth agape, her white panties just visible beneath her shirt tail. We fired on the still form, fired again and again and Tina jerked with each round, until she lay still and the remaining rounds merely dampened her hair, her shirt, her panties, her skin. We then lifted the gun, and walked mechanically back into the kitchen.

Tammy then placed the camera where it had been before, walked back into frame, and lay down slowly onto the floor again, assuming the same position she had been in after she was shot. A moment of stillness, and then she jerked awake and pulled herself to her feet. She looked very confused. She searched around for her glasses, found them, and put them on. Then, she remembered the camera.

"I don't remember doing a scene," she said, almost in a whisper. "Am I going nuts?"

She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "I need to get to the lobby if I'm going to get the camera set up." And she switched the camera off again.

Jump cut to the lobby, a big room at the front of the Gamma house which serves as a kind of common room, with a TV, several comfortable couches and chairs, a roll-top desk which these days houses the sound system, and a wooden card table against one wall. Tammy seems to have placed the camera on top the TV, and we see her sit down in a leather chair facing it.

"I feel so strange," she said. "My head's killing me, and I'm shivering. I really don't know what's going on. I don't..."

Then her mouth opened in a gasp, then, eyes wide, she slid off the chair down onto the floor. She lay there very still, her eyes open and unblinking. Tina was standing behind her holding the water gun. She must have hit Tammy in the back of the neck as well. Payback.

"Who were you talking to, Tammy?" Tina asked. Then, she noticed the camera and said, "Oh." and left the room. Tammy lay where she was, her legs spread, her sweater pulled up to just beneath her bra, her hair streaming in soft curls up the front of the leather chair, her eyes behind her glasses never blinking.

In a moment, Caroline walked into frame, removed Tammy's glasses, set them on the chair, then pulled her sweater over her head and arms, leaving Tammy now in only black bra and panties, lying on her side, her legs still spread, but not at quite the angle they were. Caroline placed Tammy's glasses back on her face. Tammy never blinked once.

Tammy lay there another few seconds, then rose, and, still unblinking, walked zombie-like over to the camera and shut it off.

Another quick cut and Tammy is back in front of the camera, which was still on the television in the lobby. After she moves her arm from turning the camera on, she does not return to the chair, but instead paces in front of the camera. Too close to the camera. We only see her from knees to shoulders as she walks two steps, turns, two steps, turns.

"It can't be," she's saying over and over. "It can't be. It can't be it can't be it can't be it..."

Then, she laughs a frigteningly empty laugh, and, finally, walks back to the chair and faces the camera. Her hair is now completely disheveled, frizzed and half in her face. She doesn't seem to notice. Her hands shake in her lap, fluttering like butterflies.

She speaks then, too loudly, almost like a shout. "I killed them. It can't be. I killed them. Dorothy and Stephanie and Lisa and, oh, God, and Tina too." Then, very quietly and very quickly. "I didn't believe it until I saw the tape, saw the tape. I didn't believe I could do that. It can't be. But I saw the tape, saw the tape, saw the tape. It can't be. It can't..."

Tammy jumps up and looks around. "Who said that?" she calls. "Can you hear it? Can you hear it?"

Gero mos somnus intemporaliter.
Gero mos somnus intemporaliter.
Gero mos somnus intemporaliter.
Gero mos somnus intemporaliter.

The chanting grew louder, and seemed to come from two voices, at some awfully dissonent interval.

"Oh God oh God oh God," Tammy was saying, louder and louder as the duet became a chorus, repeating the same refrain over and over again, louder and louder.

GERO MOS SOMNUS INTEMPORALITER.
GERO MOS SOMNUS INTEMPORALITER.
GERO MOS SOMNUS INTEMPORALITER.
GERO MOS SOMNUS INTEMPORALITER.
GERO MOS SOMNUS INTEMPORALITER.

Tammy sank to her knees in front of the chair, her hands on her ears, "No! No! No! NO! NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!" And then she SCREAMED a high, piercing scream which cut off suddenly as she took her hands from her ears and gripped her stomach. She looked up at the camera with the most desparate expression possible, but her scream became only choking and gurgling. Then her eyes rolled up in her head, and she fell face first to the floor, her hands still on her stomach, her butt stuck up in the air, her feet against the chair. Instantly, the chanting stopped.

Caroline walked into frame and kicked Tammy onto her side. "Bravo, dear," she said. She removed...

...the little plastic ring, still on Tammy's left hand. Tammy lay very still, her messy hair in her face, her glasses askew. Caroline pulled the little perfume bottle of Sleep Spray from a hip bag she was wearing, turned Tammy onto her back, and sprayed her full in the face, four, five times. She lightly slapped Tammy's face a few times, then stood, grabbed Tammy's ankles, and dragged her from the room, her arms and hair trailing behind her.

And that was the end. (I'm guessing Tammy edited out the time from then until the tape ran out.)

4. The Pre-Game Party

I guess I spoiled the surprise Caroline and her husband had planned for me at the pre-Game party. In fact, I'm pretty sure the surprise was on them.

They were there before Tina and me, along with their friends Seth and Kelly, and Lianne, who was supposed to be my surprise.

Seth and Kelly are about the same age as Caroline and her husband. Seth is a tall, thin guy with curly black hair, Kelly could be a movie star, with her long wavy blonde hair, creamy skin, and dynamite figure. Kelly could be a movie star, but it turns out she's a lawyer. And a damn good one, as I'd soon find out.

Lianne is a stunning woman, and a stage hypnotist. Also around Caroline's age, or maybe a little younger, she's a good four inches taller. You notice her legs first: long and shapely. Then, you see the rest of her figure: fit and firm and busty. Then, you see her face, with a rather large mouth, a gently sloping nose, and deep piercing blue eyes. Finally, you see her long wavy brown hair. She wears it up for the show, but most of the time, it's in a pony tail that reaches down nearly to her waist.

She's also a very good hypnotist. Some stage hypnotists are kind of mean-spirited. They get people to do dumb things so other folks can laugh at them. Lianne's act is different. She gets people to do really amazing things, so that afterwards their friends keep asking them, "How'd you do that?"

Caroline saw her act about a month before the Game. Caroline was hypnotized, and discovered that she can do a really seductive belly dance, much to John's amusement. She managed to get Lianne's attention after the show. The two talked about everything and nothing. They became good friends.

The planning for the Game came up in conversation, and Lianne was really interested. As it turned out, she was between venues when the Game was scheduled. (That's "temporarily unemployed" to those of us not in show business.) Caroline thought it would be cool to have her surprise everyone at the pre-Game party, and a plan was made.

So anyway, at the Gamma Gamma Sigma house, the Sigmas were all dressed in the same outfit: bare feet, blue jeans, and identical red bikini tops.

Lianne, Caroline, and Kelly had chosen their own theme, however. They were all dressed almost entirely in black: Kelly's long straight blonde hair falling on a black poet's blouse and knee-length skirt, Caroline's auburn hair falling on a black tube top and slacks, and Lianne's ponytail falling back onto a black tea-length dress whose neckline plunged just enough to draw the eye (and Tina's elbow when it drew mine).

When Tina and I showed up. Lianne shouted "Tommy!" and ran over, hugging me in a way usually not reserved for total strangers.

Tina was not a particularly happy camper, but that would end with a little personal history.

Lianne used to live in the same apartment building as I did when I was about ten years old. She was just starting to put her act together back then, and working as a waitress to pay the bills. I would stay with Lianne after school until my folks came home from work, and we would sometimes work out bits of the act. I had a big crush on her (who wouldn't?), but it was always just something in my mind. Lianne saw me pretty much as a little kid.

Now, while Lianne and I were sharing our story with Tina and Caroline, Seth and John were trying to figure out how to get back some of the attention. It must have been rough: being in a room full of lovely ladies and to have them all talk to the only other guy in the room.

Seth solved the problem by walking up to Kelly, tapping her on the shoulder and saying, "Pardom me, darling. May I knock you out you now?"

Kelly looked over her shoulder at her husband. "Oh," she said. "OK, I guess. How are you going to do it?"

Now, this was about the strangest conversation that I had ever heard, and it did stop my reminiscing.

"Like this," said Seth. He produced a small throw pillow he'd taken from the couch and bopped Kelly over the head with it.

Kelly seems to know a comic moment when she sees one. She dropped to her knees and swayed there a minute, her eyes rolling all around in their sockets.

Kelly turned to look at him. "Gee, what pretty music!" she said. "Sounds kind of like wittle birdies..."

She tipped forward onto the floor, her behind stuck way up in the air, her eyes closed but a goofy smile on her face.

Seth, after a quick look to John, bopped Caroline on the head with the pillow. She let loose a little "Oh!" about two octaves higher than her normal speech, and then she fell to her knees just as Kelly had done, swaying and rolling her eyes.

He hit her again. She said, in a little girl's sing-song voice, "Must be time for my little nappy..." and tipped forward, butt in the air, mirroring Kelly's final pose perfectly. Caroline's face bore her own goofy grin.

You couldn't really see Kelly's then, since Caroline's hair now covered her friend's face. Kelly didn't move, though, even to giggle.

I saw this whole thing with my jaw on the floor. Tina was giggling like a schoolgirl, along with most of the other sorority girls.

I saw a little smile pass over Lianne's lips, then she turned her face to a scowl. She stomped over to Seth. "Give me that!" she shouted, grabbing the pillow from Seth's hand.

Then, she walked over next to the comically limp Caroline and her comically limp friend.

"If you want something done right..." she began, and then pounded the pillow against her own head.

"Wisten to the birdies," she said in her own little-girl's voice. "They sound so pwetty!"

Lianne dropped straight down to her knees, her eyes crossed and her tongue stuck out. Then she toppled onto her face, her rear end in the air like her precedents, her ponytail across Caroline's chin, a goofy smile on her face as well. The pillow flew across the floor and under a chair.

I regained his composure and gained a video camera. I began to walk around the little tableau, recording this display of posterior for posterity.

Most of the other girls were nearly doubled over with laughter. Tina was fishing under the chair for the magic pillow (presumably to add her own comic knockout), but before she could get it, Lianne started giggling as well, and soon the moment had passed.

When everything had settled down a bit, Melanie asked Lianne, "You're a hypnotist, right? Can anyone be hypnotized?"

I winked at Lianne, then stepped behind Stephanie Washington, the little redhead with the curly hair. Lianne walked over to Stephanie and asked, "Have you ever been hypnotized, sweety?"

Instantly, Stephanie's head fell to her chest, and her knees began to buckle. I caught her from behind.

Stephanie's head bobbed up, though her knees were still bent and her weight was still in my arms.

"Fine," said Stephanie, a little warily. "You didn't make me cluck like a chicken or anything, did you?"

"No, of course not," said Lianne, a smile on her lips. "I just put you under, and then woke you right back up." Lianne turned to the others in the room. "Right, everyone?"

There was general assent and reassurance for Stephanie, who still looked a little flustered.

Lianne stepped over to her. "Oh, it's not work, Caroline," she said. "Work is with hot lights and hecklers and doing the same thing three shows a night."

Lianne placed one hand behind Caroline's ear, and the other on her elbow. "This isn't work at all."

She stepped away from Caroline, but Caroline just stood where she was, frozen to the spot, staring off into space.

Lianne walked back over to Melanie. "Was there anything else you wanted to know, young lady?"

They talked for a minute about how long Lianne had been a hypnotist, and where she was from, and all kinds of little things, until Tammy realized that Caroline hadn't moved.

"What happened to Caroline?" she asked. Caroline stood where she was, staring off into space. Tammy waved a hand in front of her face and got no reaction.

"Kelly, too," said Seth, a little alarmed. Kelly was standing next to Seth, her head down, her blonde hair covering her face.

"Like a charm," said Lianne. Then, she addressed the room, "I'd set this up with my friends Caroline and Kelly as a little demonstration."

"Later," Lianne said. She caught my eye again. "How'd you like to see one of these guys out for a change?" she asked.

The room erupted in applause from the women, while Seth and John exchanged frightened looks. I knew what was coming, however, and it's a testament to my trust in Lianne and Tina and the others that I didn't just bolt for the door.

During all the applause, Lianne said "Lobster Hobbits," and I fell like a rag doll to the floor.

It was my old trigger word, from when I was a kid and Lianne was learning her craft. I don't remember anything until I heard her tell me to awaken.

"Nice nap?" Lianne asked me, a smile on her lips that sent the ten-year-old me to heaven.

"Oh, we auctioned off your shirt for the battered women's shelter," said Caroline.

After I got myself a beer, I sought out Lianne again, to catch up on old times. She was talking with John and Caroline. After a bit of chat, I told Caroline there was something about The Book of the Game that had me curious.

She acted a bit embarassed, and seemed to avoid my eyes. Finally, her husband spoke up.

"Caroline used to be really embarassed by the Game," he said. He paused a moment. "No, not embarrassed. Ashamed is a better word, isn't it darling?"

"She used to feel that her talent and interest in playing dead said something terrible about her," John continued. "She wondered if she wasn't, somehow, maybe subconsciously... ummm..." He searched for the phrase.

Caroline supplied it. "... less than the strong, capable, self-sufficient woman I'd always wanted to be."

She looked me in the face now. "I didn't want to be some Barbie doll. I didn't want to be the kind of woman who just rolls over an 'plays dead' when things get tough. I didn't want to be Sleeping Beauty, waiting for some guy's kiss to make me whole. And yet, there I was, lying limply on the floor waiting for the Charon to undress me. And I loved it."

Caroline took a breath. We had attracted a few others to the conversation: Tina, Tammy, Melanie, and Sarah, who stood by, listening.

Caroline continued, "So, I decided that the woman who loved pretending to die was not the woman who worked late nights in the library, worked out at the gym, worked 20 hours a week at the deli to pay the bills, and tried very hard to stay on top of things day in and day out. The woman on the floor was a different woman, I thought. She even had a different name. 'Eva' was the name of a dog I once knew who loved to play dead."

Her husband put his arm around her waist and drew her to him. "And then," he said, "she met a man who feared that he was a potential murderer or rapist because he enjoyed the game so much. And after a very long night just before graduation, when they were both tired enough to take some chances, they confessed their other selves, and discovered that they weren't the people they feared they were."

Tammy added, quietly, "When I saw what Tina went through with her old boyfriend, when I saw how he used to hit her and drag her around like his personal toy, I hated what I was. I was afraid that the way I play the Game made her think it was OK."

Tina put an arm around Tammy. "You know that's not true," she said. "I don't understand it, but the Game made it better, somehow. What we did to that man was a lot like the Game, and it showed me that all of you were with me, even, well... I don't know how to say it."

Caroline tossed her head back and gave a little laugh. "I'd like someone to say, 'Caroline, would you like another beer?'"

The rest of the night was enough to last a guy his whole life. I mean, how many times does a fellow get to be the center of attention at a party filled with lovely women? The ladies pumped me for information about what I liked and didn't like in a death scene, in women's clothes, in colors, in hair styles, in makeup, in things I never even thought about (like toenail polish). All this with my girlfriend standing right there.

They all wanted inside information to a better score, and none of them wanted anyone else to hear anything they didn't. It's somewhat competitive, this Game.

The Game itself hadn't even started, and I was already having the best weekend ever.

Interlude

"Smallman says that Walters is really looking forward to something over at Slut Central this weekend."

"All weekend?"

"Yeah. Some kind of big party, or maybe some kind of game."

"Meet me here at about 10. It's time that Tina babe remembers what a great catch I am."

"Yes, sir."

Caroline met me outside the house when I showed up at a quarter to six. She looked positively amazing, obviously excited at the prospects of what was to come (almost as excited as I was). She wore a little black mini-dress and knee-high black boots. I wore jeans and a black T-shirt that said "Blog for Freedom". (It was the only thing black I owned, and black seemed to be the right color for the Charon.)

"Tommy," she said when she saw me. "Are you ready? You know there's a lot of carrying to be done..."

"OK, I've got a few surprises for you, Tommy." Caroline put a hand on my shoulder. "Your friend Lianne is here. We've made a few changes to the Opening Ceremony with her help."

"Tina was a bit upset when I showed up with her," Caroline continued, "but they worked things out over lunch."

"Good," I said. "These changes, they don't involve..." I was imagining passing out in front of everyone again.

Caroline opened the front door. "It's the first surprise, you goof. Pick me up!"

"OK," I said, and lifted her in my arms. She's very light, but I was so pumped with anticipation that I hardly felt her weight at all.

She looked into my eyes. "Now count backward from five," she said. "And hold on!"

"Four." Still she rested in my arms, eyes on mine, one arm on my neck, the other resting across her waist.

"Three." Now her face went gently slack. She was going under hypnosis! Lianne must have set this up. The arm on her waist began to slide, ever so slowly.

"Two." Even though I still held her gaze, her eyes were focussed well beyond me.

"One." Suddenly, as if someone hit her off switch, Caroline went completely limp in my arms. The arm at my neck fell free. The arm at her waist dangled down. Her weight shifted as her head fell back, behind a spray of her long hair. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth gently open.

I stood there a minute, holding Caroline. I tossed her up a few times, jostling her, and she fluttered like a rag doll. I raised her back so I could see her very fine neck.

It was then that I realized she hadn't told me what I should do next. I supposed that I had to take her somewhere, but where. She had opened the door before I lifted her, so I supposed that I was to take her inside.

When I entered the house, I saw a line of small votive candles on the floor leading from the front door to the parlor. There was strange electronic music playing. I kicked the front door closed, and followed the candles holding Caroline's limp form in my arms.

When I entered the parlor, I saw that the couch which usually sat near the center of the room had been pushed back against a wall, leaving a lot of space in the center. Gathered in a large arc there were the women of Sigma Sigma Gamma, each dressed in a floor-length white satin robe. Their heads were all bowed. From those with short hair (like Kim), I could see that their eyes were closed. I paused in the doorway.

Lianne stepped through the door behind me, so quietly that she startled me when she touched my shoulder. Caroline's limp form swayed in response.

I did as I was told, laying Caroline down on the hardwood floor. She ended up on her side, the blackness of her dress and redness ofher hair accentuated by the sorority sisters' white robes.

Lianne whispered in my ear, "I've been working on this a while. I'm quite proud of it." She handed me a large hand-chime. "Ring it once, and once more each time someone says the word 'now', and each time you enforce a penalty."

In airy voices, the women of Sigma Sigma Gamma said in unison, "We, the lovely ladies of Sigma Sigma Gamma, strong and beautiful maidens of hope, arise again for the Game begins now."

Stephanie then raised her head. Her eyes opened, but it was clear that she was still entranced. She undid her satin gown, revealing that beneath she was dressed in what for all the world looked like only a white terry bathrobe. Her feet were bare.

"Virgin Stephanie Washington accepts the penalty of her robe now," she said in distant monotone.

On cue, I rang the bell again, and Stephanie collapsed forward onto Caroline's form. They lay there in a little pile.

I'd seen in The Book that "virgins" (or first time Game victim) and "corpses" (or previous winners) are handicapped in that they each have an article of clothing removed without scoring. That is, they are only scored on two scenes. I was apparently supposed to remove Stephanie's robe.

I set down the bell and walked over to where she lay on Caroline, rolled her onto her back, and undid the tie on her robe. As I opened it, I saw that underneath Stephanie was wearing very sheer, very lacy white baby-doll lingerie: tops and bottoms. Through the baby-doll, I could see that she wore frilly white panties and an underwire bra.

After a moment to regain my composure, I rolled Stephanie onto her stomach again and pulled the robe from off her limp arms. I dropped the robe onto her discarded gown, walked back to my position and rang the bell again.

Melanie then raised her head, opened her eyes, and removed her white gown. Beneath, she wore white socks, blue jeans, and a plain white T-shirt. "Virgin Melanie van Stott accepts the penalty of her jeans now."

Had I heard her right? I rang the bell nonetheless and Melanie dropped to the floor, landing on her side next to the Caroline/Stephanie pile, her breast brushing Caroline's face. Figuring that Lianne would correct me if I was wrong, I set down the bell, walked over to Melanie, and undid the buttons on her jeans. Lianne did not correct me.

When I finished removing Melanie's jeans, I saw that underneath she wore a black thong, which, as I would see, did a wonderful job of showing off her beautiful, bounteous posterior. She now lay in her white T-shirt, white socks, and black thong.

I rang the bell again. Sarah was next, wearing a green miniskirt (which looked great against her red hair), green leather sandals, and a wide yellow belt. She spoke in a monotone version of her usually light British accent, "Virgin Sarah McCain accepts the penalty of her belt now."

At the sound of the bell, she fell backward across Melanie's legs and Stephanie's back. I undid the belt, set it aside, and rang the bell again.

The last of the virgins was Lacey. She revealed that she wore a light blue tank top with spaghetti straps, a matching short skirt, and black heels. Her penalty was her heels, and she fell face down atop the pile of unconscious women, her long, curly blonde hair falling over Sarah's face, hiding it completely from view. Her penalty was her heels.

Tina was the first of the corpses, or former winners. At the sound of the bell, she showed me that she wore the same sleeveless white mock-turtle sweater and knee-length plaid wrap-around skirt she had worn when I had helped her drive her abusive boyfriend Jim away. She was also wearing hose. "Corpse Tina Stallworth accepts the penalty of her skirt now."

At the sound of the bell, she fell face-down almost directly upon Lacey. I undid the button on her skirt. As I pulled it off, she rolled down the pile so that she now lay face-up next to Lacey. I could now tell that they were not just hose she wore; they were pantyhose.

The final corpse was Tammy. When I saw what she wore, I found it hard to do the math: she was wearing a bright yellow one-piece swimsuit and flip-flops. "Corpse Tammy Cohen accpts the penalty of her yellow swimsuit and her shoes now," she said in a distant monotone. What would be left?

As I sounded the bell the penultimate time, Tammy fell forward onto the body pile, losing one of her flip-flops in the process. I removed the other one, and then noticed a rather unusual feature of the swimsuit: there was a little tag on the back that said, "TOMMY PULL HERE."

I pulled on the tag and found that it tore straight down the suit from back to crotch. Beneath the yellow suit, she had on a little pink bikini. I should have known!

I lifted her up a bit and rolled her over so that I could remove the rest of the one-piece. Jessica, Kim, and Lisa were the only ones left standing, and they stood where they had through the whole ceremony so far, in their white robes, their heads bowed.

When I rang the bell the final time, the three non-virgin non-corpses lifted their heads and spoke in unison: "Leave this room immediately, Charon, and await the Mistress of Death." The voices actually sounded slightly menacing, and, hoping that Lianne brought a camera, I stepped out into the hallway. Lianne closed the door.

In a few minutes, a very peppy looking Caroline slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Despite her big smile and bright eyes, she was rubbing her hip. "I'm gonna have a few bruises from that," she said.

Caroline handed me a scoring card similar to the ones John had given me when we played the mock game in my apartment. On it was written:

"The girls all decided she should have the disadvantage of going first," said Caroline. "Otherwise, she might just smoke them again. " She grinned a bit. "Now we can't have that, can we?"

I remembered that if Tammy did win, she'd have tied Caroline's record of three wins.

"It's in the kitchen," said Caroline. "We'll fill up a bottle on the way out so Tammy has a chance to get set."

"Wait," I said, looking at the card again. "Does Tina know I'm supposed to take off Tammy's top?"

6. Tammy Dies

In the kitchen, we filled with Sleep Spray the same perfume squirter I'd used on Caroline earlier. While there, Caroline showed me an official score sheet on the kitchen table. We'd transfer my scores from the index cards to the sheet whenever we got the chance.

We stepped back out of the kitchen onto the pool deck. Tammy was sitting on a chaise lounge, still in her pink bikini, holding a dog-eared copy of The Maltese Falcon. Soft jazzy music came from the pool stereo, a saxophone so hot it left a mark.

She looked up from her book, her big brown eyes melting the air between us like so much hot wax. "Well, hello there," she said, and I thought she was talking to me.

She wasn't. "Hello, Miss Cohen," said a voice behind me. I turned to see Tina step out of the shadows, wearing a gray trench-coat and a fedora cocked and pulled down, partially obscuring her face with dark shadow. She carried a bright green large-capacity water gun, carried it like she meant to use it. "It seems to me you were born to be murdered," she said.

Tina spoke in a deep harsh voice clipping her words like a bargain hunter's coupons.

Tammy stood with movements as smooth as aged gin, setting her book down on the ground by the chair. "I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble," she said.

"Here's to plain speaking," said Tina, "and clear understanding. You've gone too far this time, doll-face. You can't just rub out anybody you want, you know."

Tammy had a face as cold as a penguin's toes. "What are ya' gonna do about it, huh? Ya' can't touch me 'cause I know where the Falcon is, and if you polish me off, you'll never touch it with those grubby little fingers again."

"Now, that ain't quite true," said a voice from across the pool. Stepping into the light was Stephanie Washington, also dressed in a trench-coat and fedora. She carried her own high-power water gun.

Tammy turned and showed surprise in those beautiful browns of hers. "Fingers!" she said.

"Yeah, that's right," said Stephanie in a nasal voice so oily it raised my cholesterol. "You didn't count on seein' me again, did you girlie?"

Tina raised her weapon. "Seems you got a bit careless, doll," she said. "You didn't watch to see who was watching you."

Tammy looked back and forth between Stephanie and Tina. "Look," she said, panic in her voice, "maybe we can work something out!"

"It's too late for that," said Tina. "When a girl's partner is killed, she's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's... it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around."

Now, Stephanie had made her way around the pool. Tammy stood halfway between Tina and Stephanie, right at the lip of the pool, no more than ten feet from either woman. "Now, wait a minute," said Tammy. She was scared, more frightened than a cat in a dog pound. "You got me all wrong!"

Tina and Stephanie simultaneously fired their water guns, sending an intense spray of water against Tammy's left and right sides. Tammy threw her hands out and shook violently. Her wavy hair was soon soaked and plastered with water to her neck and shoulders and back as her head twisted and rocked.

After a few seconds, the streams of water stopped. Tammy stood at the edge of the pool, facing the water, her legs apart, her head staring off past the other side of the pool. Her arms fell with a slap to her sides. After a moment, she slowly tottered forward, and then fell with a splash like a board into the pool.

"You're a good man, sister," said Tina, and she and Stephanie turned and walked away.

Tammy hadn't moved, face down in the water. She started to drift off a bit. I figured what the hell. I kicked off my shoes and jumped into the water. She was on the shallow end. I flipped her over and then carried her in my arms up the pool stairs. She did not gasp for air as I expected she might; her breath was slow, if a bit deep at first. I walked over and laid her very limp form down on the chaise lounge she'd occupied earlier.

"Check her back," said Caroline, who was clearly trying to decide if she was impressed or jealous.

I tried to sit her up, but she flopped forward, folding neatly in half, her head against her knees. I hadn't seen it during the opening ceremonies, but on the pink bikini top was another little tag, reading "PULL ME". Maybe it was a different top.

I pulled and the top came apart, revealing Tammy's bare back. I lay her back on the lounge, and saw that she had some kind of white latex form over her chest, apparently glued in place somehow. It was very sexy, but not what I kind of hoped for. Ah, well.

Caroline handed me the bottle of Sleep Spray. I pumped a bit of it into Tammy's face. A small smile formed for a second, then faded. She was out.

I lifted her up onto my shoulder and carried her very wet, very limp form away from the jazzy saxophone music at the pool and back through the kitchen and hallway to the parlor (the "Morgue"), Caroline at my heels. I tenderly laid her on the floor, posing her on her back with her arms out and legs together.

Caroline handed me a towel, then when I had dried off a bit, and had another second or so to admire Tammy's sleeping form, she handed me the index card.

I gave her an "8". I didn't want to max things out too quickly, and she did have that little smile there at the end, as cute as it was.

As Caroline and I descended the stairs into the basement, she told me, "I think you're gonna love this one."

Caroline said, "Yeah, Lianne helped Jessica and Lisa with it. Lowered their, uh, inhibitions."

We reached the bottom of the stairs, but the basement was empty. That is, except for the old couch, wet bar, bar stools, and plush but aging green carpet. I looked at the card to make sure we were in the right place, but Caroline just settled down on one of the bar stools. She patted the stool next to hers, so I sat on it. "They'll be down in just a second," she said.

It was more like a minute or two, but felt like an hour. The suspense was killing me, but I did appreciate the chance to get a little rest after placing Tammy in the Morgue.

Just when I felt I had examined every inch of the "New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival 2005" poster hanging on the opposite wall, down came Jessica. I said earlier that she could be a super-model, and I definitely meant it. She was wearing very short "Daisy Duke" shorts, showing an amazing amount of lovely, curved leg. She wore white high-heeled sandals, her red-painted bare toes making for a stunning contrast. Above her waist, she wore her "Love the Game" T-shirt, but it was knotted to reveal a lot of her trim stomach. The shorts were riding a little low too, if the truth be told. In her hand, she held a little red plastic water gun.

As she entered, she tossed her head left and right, and her luscious dark shoulder-length hair trailed behind. She looked worried, but determined. I smiled at her, but she didn't appear to see me. She paced back and forth in the room a few times, then sat on the couch, eyes on the basement entrance.

Another minute or so of watching Jessica fidget, whispering "Come on! Come on!" to herself. When she was sitting down, the shorts showed even more leg than before.

Then, just as I began to wonder if Lisa had chickened out, in she walked. Or rather, she sort of ran. She also looked great, though she was significantly more covered. She wore a big fuzzy white bath robe and big fuzzy white slippers. She too held her squirt gun in her hand, and she too looked nervous. Or was it excited?

Lisa ran over to sit next to Jessica on the couch. They embraced and kissed. Not a big sloppy kiss, just a little peck on the lips. Then another. Somehow, just the "normal"-ness of it made me uncomfortable, like I wasn't supposed to be there. Caroline shifted a bit too.

Jessica stood up and did a little turn. "Well, what do you think?" she said. She stopped her turn facing away from Lisa and wiggled her butt a little.

Beneath the robe, Lisa wore a long black silk sleeveless nightgown,with a slit so high up the side that I could see the waistline of a black thong, and cut out in front to highlight her cleavage, further highlighted with what I could only assume was a push-up bra.

Jessica ran her hand down Lisa's side, slowly, until it rested on the skin at her hip, crossing through the slit in the gown. Lisa put her hand behind Jessica's head, and they kissed again, much more passionately. As they kissed, Jessica ran her hand back up Lisa's side, and I could see more and more of Lisa's fair skin.

"There is no other way," Lisa said. "They all know. We'll never have a future. Only in death..."

Jessica took Lisa's hand, the one holding the water gun, and raised it to Jessica's chest, so that the weapon was pointed right at her heart. "I give my life to you, Lisa Winter."

In the same way, Lisa took Jessica's hand and pointed the gun at her own heart. "I give my life to you, Jessica Brooks."

There was such vulnerability in their eyes, such love and loss and even regret that I was actually suprised when there was no explosion as the ladies "shot" their pistols.

Simultaneously, they jerked back, and fell hard onto the floor, Jessica atop Lisa. They shook a moment, then lay still.

The back pockets of Jessica's shorts filled my vision a moment, then the lovely peace in Lisa's face beneath her, her soft curls sinking into the plush carpet. Jessica had one arm between Lisa's legs, her head resting on Lisa's stomach, facing Lisa's breasts. One of Lisa's hands rested on Jessica's back. While I could see them breathing, they did not move at all otherwise.

The card said to remove Jessica's sandals. I did so, slowly, caressing her bare feet, kissing her ankles. I set the sandals on the floor next to the couch. The ladies hadn't moved a muscle.

The card also said to remove Lisa's robe. I could not do this with Jessica lying atop her, so I moved Jessica's arm to her side and rolled her onto her back, across Lisa's legs. She has lovely eyes, but I think they are even lovelier when they are closed. I lifted her in my arms and as I did, her mouth fell open in helpless, senseless surrender. I lay her gently on the couch.

I touched Lisa's soft face, then pushed her legs together and her arms to her sides. I rolled Lisa onto her stomach and pulled the robe slowly off her. Her arms fell limply to the carpet with a dull thud as the sleeves came free. I then draped the robe over her upper back and head. Her bare arms and mostly-bare legs lay still.

I admired the two lovely women a moment, then marked my scores. The next card Caroline handed me said:

Jim looked at the picture on his cell phone. It was hard to believe. The little tart Tammy was lying motionless and nearly naked on the parlor floor. They must have drugged her.

This was the kind of dirt Jim usually liked. He could threaten to report Tammy to someone or other, and get her to do whatever he wanted. Anything. I'm sure Tammy's parents wouldn't want to see a picture like that.

He usually liked that kind of thing, but this time Jim was more excited about another possibility. He finally thought he understood why Tommy was so excited about this weekend. It was some kind of drug-filled orgy, the kind people with Tommy's lack of money or social skill never even hear about. Jim, however, knew all about them.

So, he thought, those meddling Sigma Sluts interfered with his love of Tina. Self-righteous whores! They go off and have a...

The words died in Jim's rage. Jim got what Jim wanted. Always. Jim wanted Tina. She was beautiful. She was smart. She had money and connections. He never hurt her that bad. His father used to do far worse.

He needed more pictures. He'd get them, he was sure. His guys had some seriously good stuff. Lenses and night-vision gear and lots of charm and more of his money to keep people from asking questions.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd drug Tina too. Maybe they'd leave her on the floor of the Sigma Sigma Gamma parlor. She'd be his again, and there'd be nothing any of them, least of all that Tommy creep, could do about it.

Nowadays, that was the sort of thing Jim liked.

Caroline and I entered the great room from the kitchen. Stephanie stood at attention in the other doorway, which led to the front hallway, facing us. Considering that she was dressed in the frilly white baby-doll pajamas from the Opening Ceremony, she looked considerably out of her element standing guard, stern-faced and rigid.

"Who goes there?" Stephanie called out authoritatively as she dropped into a fighting posture, ready for anything.

Caroline put a finger to her lips to indicate that my reply was unnecessary. Then, with a broad smile on her lips, she dropped to all fours and began to crawl toward where Stephanie stood.

Almost faster than I could see, Stephanie burst into action, leaping to within a foot of where Caroline crouched and kicking her wickedly in the shoulder. Caroline flew up and onto her back.

Caroline jerked once, then lay still, her arms spread, her head turned toward the door, her legs bent into something like a 'W'.

"Now, who the hell are you?" Stephanie asked, standing over Caroline's suppine form.

She kicked Caroline's legs out of the 'W', and searched her from head to toe, flipped her over onto her stomach, and searched her from toe to head.

Apparently finding nothing, she stood next to Caroline's "body," feet together, arms at her sides. With a stern face, she scanned the rest of the room.

Yet, from where I was, I could see that she missed something. In the hallway behind her, Tina, dressed in her white sleeveless mock-turtle sweater and pantyhose, crept behind her. Tina had a high-volume watergun slung by a thick black strap over her shoulder. She inched closer and closer as Stephanie stood impervious.

Then, suddenly, she struck, grabbing Stephanie's head with both hands and twisting. There was an audible snap.

The look of surprise on Stephanie's face remained frozen, her dead-doll eyes wide, as she swayed a moment, then dropped hard to the floor, landing across Caroline's legs.

Tina unslung her water gun, pumped it several times, and doused Stephanie and Caroline (and the carpet) with water. Stephanie flopped like a fish on a pier, finally coming to rest on her back at Caroline's feet.

Tina pumped the gun again. I started to tell her that I wa s pretty sure Stephanie was dead now when I saw she had something else in mind.

Tina stepped over Caroline and Stephanie's forms, turned the water gun to point at her own heart, and pulled the trigger.

Water drenched her sweater, face and hair. Her eyes closed, a peaceful look on her face, Tina dropped the weapon and fell backward onto Stephanie, landing with a wet splat; on the redhead's prone body.

As I moved forward to get a better look, I noticed a white envelope on the floor just on the other side of the doorway. "Tommy" was written across it.

I stepped over the wet carnage of Caroline, Tina, and Stephanie and opened the envelope. Inside was an index card:

The watergun had done a very good job of soaking the front of Tina's sweater, as well as her face and some of her hair.. The back of the sweater, I soon found out, had been dampened pretty well also, mainly from her contact with the drenched Stephanie. It took me a minute to work the thing up to her shoulders. I coud see now that she had on a plain white bra underneath.

Stepping around, I pulled the wet sweater quickly off her the rest of the way, causing her arms and hair to dance for a second or two before resting in a tangled mess.

Stephanie lay on her stomach in a very wet patch of carpet. Near her left hand lay a craft stick, snapped in two. That must have been how she managed the sound effect.

Stephanie's curly red hair was noticably straighter and darker after its soaking. A strand of hair lay across her nose and water was slowly dripping down her face. She did not move at all in response.

The wet bottoms of her baby-dolls slid without too much difficulty down her dripping limp legs, fully revealing the white thong underneath.

Feeling that this part of the scene wasn't challenging enough for the Stephanie I knew, I gave her behind a little swat. No reaction at all. She was completely "dead."

That left Caroline. Her minidress had a zipper down the back which I pulled. I rolled the limp lovely onto her back. Removing the dress to reveal her black strapless bikini was fairly simple, but I took my time, and enjoyed watching her arms and torso and legs and feet flow through the dress at my command.

On Caroline's note, I wrote "Caroline (minidress) in the great room. 10." I left it on her stomach before leaving the room.

On my way to the kitchen (and I did need a bathroom break), I ran into John, carrying Caroline over his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said. "I've been hanging around. The ladies told me to hold you up for a little bit. They're not quite ready."

"OK," I said. Then, after a pause while I watched Caroline hang limply, "So, how've you been?"

"Look, kid, while I've got you here," he said, shifting his weight (and Caroline swayed with him), "I guess I should tell you to keep your eyes open."

"No," he said, "I mean, well, I caught some guy peeping in through the parlor window a few minutes ago. He ran off before I could say anything, but ... Just keep your eyes open."

"Should we call off the Game?" I asked. "I wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble or anything."

"No," he said. "Not yet anyway. I told the women what I saw. They said we should go ahead for now. I pinned the drapes closed in the parlor and the great room, just in case."

"Caroline also said you'd probably offer to scratch the Game," he continued, "and that when you did, I should thank you for offering. Sit down, son."

Caroline's husband bent down, lowering Caroline so that her feet touched the floor. He shifted forward and she fell off his shoulder into my lap. He lifted her back and threw her arm over my shoulder, twisting her so that her cheek was against mine. He turned her head so that her lips languidly brushed my cheek.

"Caroline wanted to give you a little thank-you kiss," John said, "only she's dead now, of course."

When I got there, I saw a little gift box on the table, about six inches cubed, wrapped with a bow. An over-sized tag read, "Tommy, Do Not Open Until Christmas."

After a minute, Stephanie ran in from the hallway, carrying three high-capacity water guns, one in each hand and one under her arm. She set two of them down on the counter, pumped the other one, and swung it around, left, right, left. She looked scared.

She was dressed the same as the last time I saw her a few minutes ago: sheer, lacy baby-doll pajama tops, frilly white panties, and (under the top) a lacy bra. She'd dried herself off in the meantime, however, and her hair was back to its curly red self.

In a moment, I saw what Stephanie was supposed to be frightened of. Through the back door burst Lisa and Lacey, shambling in, moaning. Zombies!

They didn't look much like zombies, except for the shambling and moaning. They looked like two beautiful women: blonde Lacey in her light blue tank top and short skirt, tall Lisa in her black silk nightgown and fuzzy white slippers.

Still, zombies are clearly what they were supposed to be. When Stephanie shot them in the shoulder with her water gun, they twisted from the "impact," but kept right on walking, or rather stumbling.

Of course, everyone knows how to kill zombies. It's one of those incredibly useful bits of knowledge you gain by watching horror movies. You can incinerate them, or crush them to a pulpy mess, or...

Stephanie fired again and hit Lisa squarely in the face. She flew back, landing on her back with arms and legs out. She started to rise, but then fell back again.

The next shot from Stephanie hit Lacey in the face. She fell to her knees, then dropped face down on the floor, convulsing. Lacey's skirt was so short, I could see a good bit of her light blue panties. They matched her top.

Stephanie barely got a break. That's the thing about zombies: they keep coming. In a moment, Melanie was shuffling in from the hallway, behind Stephanie. Melanie was wearing her T-shirt, thong and socks.

Stephanie fired and missed. The gun in her hand was out of water. She tried pumping, but all that came out when she fired again was a little "psst" of misty air. She threw the empty gun at Melanie, who ignored it when it hit her, and grabbed the second gun off the counter, pumping it up.

But now, Zombie Kim was making her way in the back door, past the bodies of Lisa and the now only gently twitching body of Lacey. Kim was dressed in Daisy Dukes and a white polo shirt, barefoot. The outfit wonderfully set off her lovely legs, nice tan, and short black hair.

Kim stupidly kicked her way past Lisa and Lacey's limp forms. "Brains! Brains! Braaaaaaaiiiins!" she moaned.

Stephanie fired again on Melanie. She hit one shoulder. Melanie twisted and then walked on. Stephanie fired again, hitting the other shoulder. Melanie twisted again, and still trudged on. (Her shirt was getting quite wet.) Finally, Stephanie's shot hit Melanie in the ear. Melanie fell down to her knees, then toppled over onto her side.

By now, Kim had almost reached Stephanie. Kim's arms were stretched forward. "Brains!" she cried, "Fresh brains!"

Stephanie turned, panic in her eyes. She fired, but didn't raise the gun up, so the water stream hit Kim in the leg. Kim continued to advance, dragging the damp leg. Stephanie tried to pump the gun again. Her hands just wouldn't work.

"Braaaaiiins!" Kim cried as she reached Stephanie, grabbing her shoulders and pulling Stephanie's head toward her open mouth.

Stephanie pushed, and Kim stumbled backward, then started to advance again, closing the step or two between them.

This time, Stephanie managed to get her thoughts together, grab the third gun, and fire, directly into Kim's forehead.

Kim spun around, stumbled a few steps back toward the back door, and then fell forward onto the floor, coming to rest with her face on Lacey's rear. She lay still.

Stephanie, horror on her face, backed across the room, the gun held in both hands at chest level. She got to the door to the great room, which was slightly ajar.

She paused there a moment, breathing deeply, when Caroline suddenly reached through the gap in the doorway, grabbed Stephanie's gun, and forced it sideways against her throat.

Stephanie kicked and struggled and gagged and coughed in the kitchen while Zombie Caroline strangled her from the great room. Stephanie fought for a very long time, but it was all in vain. Stephanie began to struggle more weakly. Soon, her hands fell from the weapon at her throat, she let out a gurgle, her head fell forward, and she slid down the edge of the door.

Zombie Caroline let go of the gun, which fell into the now-sitting Stephanie's lap. Stephanie's dead weight closed the door on Caroline's arms. Caroline moaned and pulled her arms out, and Stephanie's dead weight closed the door all the way. She slid down so that only her head leaned against the door. Zombie Caroline tried pushing the door a few, futile times, nudging Stephanie and inch or two. Then, she stopped, presumably shambling off.

I heard a cell phone ring. The ring tone was Jonathan Coulton's "Re: Your Brains." Must be for me.

I traced the sound to the back pocket of Kim's Daisy Dukes. I pulled the phone out. There was a text message: "Merry Christmas, Tommy." Must be time to open my present.

Inside the gift box on the kitchen table was a lot of tissue paper, the little perfume sprayer I knew held Sleep Spray, and five index cards:

I was a little closer to Melanie, so I figured I'd start with her. Her socks came off easily in my hands, her legs limp. I dropped her feet as I finished each and the each fell with a little thud. I rolled her onto her back, folded her arms over her ample chest, brushed the hair from her ponytail out of her soft ace. She looked, well, peaceful.

Kim was next. I grabbed her legs and pulled her off Lacey's rear, her polo shirt riding up a bit to show some of her lovely tan lower back. I slid the shirt up over her chest, revealing the bright red bikini top she wore underneath. I pulled the shirt out over her arms and head, turning the shirt inside out. As her arms came free, her right limply fell back against Lacey's rear. I poser her as I had Melanie, arms crossed on her chest, legs together. Kim's hair is so short I didn't need to clear it out of her face.

I could see a button on the side of Lacey's skirt. Undoing it made it easier to pull it off her flaccid face-down form. Blue tank top, blue panties, blonde hair spilling over red lips and pink face, lightly tanned arms bent at odd angles left and right, legs straight and together where I laid them after removing the skirt. I placed her left arm at her side, palm down.

I very, very slowly rolled her over. She was as limp as laundry. I saw that her panties had a little Superman/Supergirl logo on the front. I pushed the tank up so that I could see a bit of her stomach. Lacey has a cute little "innie" belly button. I posed her as the others. Lacey's long, soft, blonde curls radiated out from her peaceful face.

That left Stephanie, who would soon feel the Sleep Spray on her face. When I turned to her, her head propped up against the door, her arms and legs forming little arrows out, I saw her eyelashes flutter. She'd been peeking. That would cost her points.

I pushed Stephanie's legs together, lifted her into my arms, and set her on the kitchen chair. She sat there, head tilted back showing her arched neck, one arm on her lap, the other dangling down. I grabbed the baby-doll top at the hem and pulled it quickly over her head, causing her arms to dance and her head to bob forward. She toppled onto the floor, the chair clattering beneath her. The other women flinched (just a bit) at the sound. That would cost them points as well.

I set the chair back up, rolled Stephanie onto her back from the side on which she landed, and posed her as well. What the hell.

I retrieved the Sleep Spray and dampened her face with the mist. Her head fell to one side after a moment, and her mouth fell slightly open. She was out cold.

She was more difficult to lift now. Stephanie is not at all heavy, but she rolled under my touch like a big water balloon. Eventually, I decided to work in stages, lifting and dragging her into a sitting position against the door, then raising her under the armpits, keeping my weight against her to hold her to the wall, until she was more or less standing, and then letting her fall across my shoulder. I wanted to cradle-carry her, though, so I laid her down on the kitchen counter, careful that she did not hit her head too hard, and then lifted her in my arms from there, which proved to be much easier than trying to lift her from the floor. Before lifting her, though, I took a moment to admire her, clad only in her underwear, lying on the counter, her head tilted back into the sink, her moth agape.

She bent back in my arms, arcing from toe to hair. She swayed and flexed with every step back to the morgue/parlor.

I set her on the floor next to Tammy, who lay just as I left her, on her back with her arms stretched out left and right, her feet together. I turned Stephanie onto her stomach, and posed her so that Tammy's right arm crossed under Stephanie's neck, and Stephanie's arm crossed over Tammy's. Stephanie's left arm extended out, a mirror of Tammy's right. I put her legs together, and moved her so that her hip touched Tammy's.

After a moment admiring my handiwork, I stepped back out into the hallway, expecting to make my way back to the kitchen to record the scores.

I didn't take two steps before I heard Melanie scream. She darted out of the kitchen, in her black thong and white T, then pulled up short a step away from me.

There was a hollow thunk before she could finish her sentence. Her eyes rolled up in her head, she swayed a minute, and then fell face-down at my feet.

Behind her stood Caroline, with one of those plastic toy baseball bats. (This one was bright red.)

"Brains!" she said, dropped the bat, and scrambled to her knees by Melanie's head. She put her face to the back of Melanie's head and pretended to loudly eat. Melanie twitched with each bite, her ample rear jiggling seductively in the thong.

After a few moments of this, Caroline lifted her head and looked at me. Melanie lay still on the floor.

"You know, Tommy," Caroline said matter-of-factly, "you can kill me because: one, I'm not officially playing in The Game; and, two, I'm already dead."

She then went back to pretending to munch on Melanie's gray matter as Melanie convulsed beneath her.

I got the big red plastic baseball bat and swung it like a golf club against the side of Caroline's head, a bit harder than I intended too, from the sound of the "thunk" I made. Caroline fell in a heap onto her side, wrapped around Melanie's head.

I was at something of a loss as to what to do next, since I didn't have a card for Melanie, and while I had plenty of ideas, I wanted to play by the rules. It was then I noticed that the big red bat had black writing on it:

I scooted Caroline's limp form out of the way and turned Melanie over so that I could work the shirt over her large breasts. She wore a very revealing bra underneath. I worked the neck of the shirt over her head, and I guess I accidentally caught her ponytail because she made a little "mmm" sound.

I set her head carefully back down onto the hard floor, and then pulled the shirt off one arm, and then the other. I let her arms fall as I finished with them, one across her stomach, the other palm up onto the floor. Her mouth was gently open.

This was Melanie's last, so I went back into the kitchen to get the Sleep Spray. I was surprised to find Lacey and Kim still exactly as I'd left them. I was impressed.

I got the Sleep Spray off the kitchen table where I'd left it, and returned to Melanie, who, of course, hadn't moved. The spray wet her face, but she did not react at all. Still, it was pretty clear that she was out cold. I raised her eyelids to make sure, and indeed, her eyes were rolled back, showing mostly white.

From my difficulties with the much lighter Stephanie, I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to lift the lovely Melanie off the floor. However, since we were right next to the morgue, it was pretty easy to just grab her feet and drag her in.

Her ponytail and her free arm flowed out behind her as I pulled. I posed her face down in a way identical to how I posed Stephanie, except on Tammy's left side.

Another moment, and back I went to the kitchen to mark the scores. This time, Lacey and Kim were gone.

Name	Scene 1	Scene 2	Scene 3	Score
Lacey Barron	Virgin	7
Jessica Brooks	9	7
Tammy Cohen	Corpse	Corpse	8	8.0
Sarah McCain	Virgin
Tina Stallworth	Corpse	8
Melanie van Stott	Virgin	6	7	6.5
Stephanie Washington	Virgin	9	6	7.5
Lisa Winter	9	7
Kim Wise	7

As soon as I finished writing, Sarah and Jessica walked in from the pool area, carrying Lacey between them. Lacey was bound head and foot with green cord, suspended from a thick pole, shouldered by Sarah at the head and Lacey at the foot. Lacey's head fell back, her long blonde curls dusting the floor, her eyes closed, her mouth open, dressed in her light blue tank and panties, the "super" logo in front. The trio continued past me, Sarah and Jessica giggling maniacally, through the kitchen and into the great room. Needless to say, I followed them.

10. Protecting the Innocent

As I entered the great room behind Sarah, Jessica, and Lacey, I was surprised to find both Caroline and Lianne there. The two lay side-by-side on a large, low coffee table, Caroline still dressed in her black bikini, Lianne wearing a matching one. Their arms lay at their sides, just touching each other, their legs together. Their heads lay back over the edge of the table, their long hair falling onto the floor. Each wore a black headband with small, flashing lights at their temples. Lianne's lights were green; Caroline's were red. Their eyes were closed, their mouths open.

Sarah and Jessica carried Lacey on her pole over to the couch, then lowered her down onto it. They undid the ties at her feet and hands. Jessica put the ties inside a metal cash box sitting on top of the TV. Sarah lay the pole on the ground next to the couch and patted the unconscious Lacey's face.

Jessica walked over. "Get up, you bitch!" she said. "You're not fooling anyone."

Lacey's eyes snapped open and she jumped to her feet, wrapping an arm around Sarah's neck. "OK," she said with ferocity, "tell me why I shouldn't squeeze until The Giggler here passes out, and then knock you into next week!"

Jessica did not even flinch. "Because you don't want innocent blood on your hands," she said. With a toss of her head, she indicated Caroline and Lianne.

Lacey loosened her grip on Sarah, who broke free gasping and stumbled to Jessica's side. Lacey's eyes were wide as she whispered, "Those aren't..."

"X20 Mind Destruction Devices? Why, yes they are," said Jessica. She walked to Caroline's side and tapped the light at her temple. "Oh, dear," she said with mock concern. "It appears you are too late for this one."

Jessica pulled the headband off Caroline's head, past her long hair. Caroline lay still. Jessica and Sarah each took hold of the headband, and it stopped flashing. "This one's already dead," said Jessica, and she pulled Caroline's inside arm, rolling her off the table and onto the floor.

At that moment, Lianne's lights turned from green to yellow. Lianne moaned softly and squirmed a bit, then lay as still as before.

"You know how the X20 works, don't you?" Jessica said to Lacey, who was looking with a shocked expression at Caroline, who lay crumpled on the floor. "The disarm mechanism is keyed into both Sarah and my brain patterns. Injure either one of us, and the girl dies. Try to remove the X20 yourself, and the girl dies."

"Your life for hers," said Sarah brightly. You'd think she was Glenda the Good Witch.

"Well, then, the girl dies," said Sarah with sugar in her voice. "Come on, Jessica, let's go."

"Can't you?" asked Jessica. "Oh, that's right. You can't. You'd lose your powers. Then you'd be ours anyway."

"You don't!" giggled Sarah. "But either way, this will be your last act as Super Lacey. You let us kill you, and maybe the girl lives. You don't let us kill you, and the girl dies, and then we kill you."

Sarah produced a jewelry box from beneath the table on which Lianne rested. "This," she cooed, "contains a pendant which gives off Kryptonic radiation when activated. It will destroy you, but not right away."

Lacey took the box from Sarah, and opened it. She removed the pendant inside, hesitated a moment, and then placed it around her neck. It's tear-shaped clear stone settled on Lacey's chest. She dropped her head. Her arms fell to her side.

Sarah and Jessica together bent over Lianne turned the yellow light on the headband off, and removed it. Lianne lay where she was. Lacey raised her face and looked into Jessica's eyes.

"Oh, don't thank us," said Jessica. "Now we'll have an independent witness to your destruction."

"We'd stick around ourselves," said Sarah, almost singing, " but we have a world to conquer!"

Lacey fell to her knees by the table on which Lianne lay. Lacey's breathing was hard, her movements slow and determined. She pulled at the pendant, but could not remove it. The struggle showed on her face. She willed herself back to her feet, but just as she gained her feet, she swayed on weakening legs.

Lianne opened her eyes. When she saw Lacey standing beside her, her eyes widened. "SuperLacey! You've come to save me!" she said.

"SuperLacey!" said Lianne. "What's wrong?" She sat up, looking at Lacey with concern.

Lacey's muscles twitched and tensed as she tried to fight off the pendant's powers. After a moment, she fell again to her knees, and then dropped forward across Lianne's legs, her arms stretched across the table, her head down, tangled hair all around. Her fingers spread and arms reached as she tried her last. Then, they fell limp and still.

Lianne got to her feet, pushing Lacey off her legs. Lacey fell back onto the floor, her feet folded beneath her. Lacey's eyes were softly closed, her lips softly parted, her arms at crazy angles on the floor.

"What's this?" Lianne said, and she pulled the pendant from Lacey's throat, breaking the chain. Lacey lay motionless as before.

Lianne walked around the table, bent near the still motionless Caroline, and felt her pulse.

"Excellent," Lianne said, and she walked smartly out of the room. On the table where she lay was an index card.

I took a moment to admire Lacey. Sweat formed in droplets on her forehead and neck, but her breathing was so slight, you might imagine that she wasn't breathing at all. Of course, that was the point. Her legs were bent under her and her arms were twisted in what must have been a very uncomfortable position, but she lay very still and her face was tranquil.

I gripped her tank top at each of her hips, and slowly worked it up to just below her breasts. I ran my hands forward along the hem and lifted the shirt over her chest. She wore a bra the same blue as her panties. I slid my hands back down along the top until they were at her side again, and then continued to pull the tank up over her head. Her hair and arms followed the line of my hands until her body formed a long line, toe to fingertip.

What impressed me more was her chest. Written in red Sharpie at her cleavage were the words "Spray Me, Tommy."

The Sleep Spray was still in the kitchen, so, with a last look at Super Lacey and Caroline, I left the room, retrieved the spray and returned.

I moistened Lacey's face with the spray. Aside from a very thin sigh, you wouldn't have known anything was changed.

I wanted to carry her in my arms to the Morgue, but my legs were getting weaker after all that had happened, and I found it impossible to lift her from the floor.

I tried. I worked my arms under her legs and chest while squatting beside her, but my tired legs could not lift Lacey's dead weight more than a few inches, at which point she began to slide through my hands like wet sand.

I am nothing if not determined. I slid her next to the table on which Caroline and Lianne had lain. I sat her up and managed to get her head and shoulders and arms resting on the table. I then lifted her under the rump and pushed her up so that she lay on top, on her stomach in a rather awkward position.

Rolling her again onto her back, I found it much easier to lift her in my arms from the height of the table, a hand under her back and high under her thighs. She bowed back a bit, her hair nearly reaching the floor even after I stood, her neck fully arched, her mouth wide. Still, it was not difficult to carry her into the Morgue.

I posed Lacey on her right side next to the others, her hair in her face, her left arm across the back of Melanie, her hand on Tammy's stomach.

Name	Scene 1	Scene 2	Scene 3	Score
Lacey Barron	Virgin	7	9	8.0
Jessica Brooks	9	7
Tammy Cohen	Corpse	Corpse	8	8.0
Sarah McCain	Virgin
Tina Stallworth	Corpse	8
Melanie van Stott	Virgin	6	7	6.5
Stephanie Washington	Virgin	9	6	7.5
Lisa Winter	9	7
Kim Wise	7

11. Poker

As soon as I finished writing, Jessica, Sarah, Kim and Tina filed in. They completely ignored me and took seats around the table. Each girl was carrying a squirt gun, which they set next to them on the table. Kim also held a deck of cards, which she began shuffling. I set the score sheet on the counter.

Jessica and Kim were both in their "Daisy Dukes" (very short denim pants), Kim in a red bikini top and Jessica in her "Love the Game" T-shirt, just as she was a moment ago. Sarah hadn't changed either: she wore her green miniskirt and sandals. Tina was conspicuously under-dressed, wearing only pantyhose (and flower-print panties beneath, I could see), and a white bra.

Tina reached under her chair, producing the sleeveless white mock turtle I'd removed at the Opening Ceremonies and one of her brown skirts, placing them on the table.

"I've five already," Sarah said with her British accent on full tilt. "Don't you deal some face up?"

"You get five cards," Tina explained. "You can replace any or all of them if you want. Best hand wins. No shared cards. Nothing face up."

"Let's play some damn poker," Kim shouted louder. "Do you want any bloody cards, Sarah?"

"Two year olds don't beat the pants, I mean skirt off the local know-it-all!" Jessica said.

"Two," said Jessica, and she slid two cards to Kim, who dealt her two fresh ones.

"The dealer takes one," said Kim, switching out one of her cards. "Your bet, Sarah?"

"Wait until the end of the hand. Nobody wants to see that," Jessica said. "I'm out." She slapped her cards down on the table.

"It means, I bet everything, and if you want to stay in, you have to as well," Tina said.

Tina was quick though and fired first, hitting Kim in the face. Her head flew back, and she tipped over backward in her chair, hitting the ground hard and rolling onto her side. She didn't move again.

"Holy..." Jessica started to say. She didn't finish because Sarah shot her right in the chest. Jessica's eyes went wide with shock. After a moment, she slumped forward onto the table, her head making a "thunk" sound.

Sarah continued to fire on Jessica. "Call me a limey," she said. Jessica shook under each blast, eventually sliding out of her chair and onto the floor.

Sarah stood up and swung her arms around to aim at Tina. She backed away a little.

Sarah's terror was obvious as she took another step back. "No," she said, almost a whisper. "Don't."

Tina fired. Sarah crumpled to the ground, twitched a couple of times, and then lay still.

Tina walked over to the table, dealt out three cards, grabbed her clothes, and walked out the back door toward the pool deck.

I walked over to the table. The three cards were three more aces: diamonds, clubs, and hearts. On the ace of diamonds was written:

As I was wondering where to start, admiring the awkward death poses of the lovely women, I heard a scream from the pool.

Surely, I thought, I get more time to do my part here before Tina's next bit. This was Jessica's last one, too, so she was due for the Sleep Spray. I'd have to get the spray from the great room where I left it.

So I was a bit annoyed when I opened the back door to find out what Tina was up to.

I was not expecting to find a guy named Greg, a buddy of Tina's abusive ex-boyfriend Jim, standing just outside the doorway.

I saw another of Jim's friends (Steven) walk in from the great room, carrying the bottle of Sleep Spray.

12. Trouble

13. Heroes

Tina awoke with a start. Her motion and the little gasp she made pulled me into wakefulness. Sunlight peeked through her dran curtans.

In a moment, she realized where she was, and who was talking, and she relaxed. A bit.

"He's in jail," I said. "We stopped him. Everybody's OK. Caroline's lawyer friend is making sure that he learns his lesson. I think his daddy saw a nice photo of him violating the restraining order."

But Tina's next question was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door. "Tommy? Tina?" came Melanie's soft voice.

"Come on in, Melanie," Tina called back. I got to my feet as Melanie came in, carrying a tray.

Caroline and Tammy filed in. Pointing at me, Caroline said, "You, sir, have a hero's breakfast awaiting you downstairs, prepared for you by the skilled hands of the ladies of Sigma Sigma Gamma, with the invaluable assistance of the lovely Lianne."

Tammy said very slowly and loudly, "Go..." (She made a gesture with her fingers walking.) "...downstairs!" (The little finger man walked down imaginary stairs.)

When I got downstairs, there was indeed a sumptuous breakfast for me: eggs, pancakes, bacon, biscuits. Even better was the outright adulation of the ladies. That was, without a doubt, the best morning of my life thus far.

The Winners

Caroline, Tina, Tammy, and Melanie, all dressed in bathrobes, entered the kitchen just as I was trying to figure out if I'd ever be able to eat again. Tina walked over, grabbed my shirt, and planted on me the hottest kiss in the history of the world.

"They told me what you did, my hero," she said. (Or, at least, that's what I think she said. It was a little hard to concentrate on language just then.)

"We're not," said Melanie. "We worked this out last night and just cleared it with Tina."

"We're not finishing The Game?" I asked. I was a little disappointed. But then I caught Tina in a little smile.

"No," continued Melanie. "Tammy (for her exceptional scenes), Tina (for her amazing bravery), and Caroline (for, well, both) have been declared co-champions. It's already in The Book."

"This is the first time an alumnus has had a share in The Game championship," Caroline said. "I'd like to thank all the little people, some of whom I might start talking to..."

"Now," Tammy interrupted, "normally we'd invite you to go to the Morgue this afternoon and raise our dead bodies with a little mouth- to-mouth..."

"...but we're all alive still, so we've planned something else we're sure you'll like, Mr. Hero," said Lianne.

"Yes," said Caroline, "but we've got some shopping and stuff to do first. My husband John will be by in a bit to take you out for some lunch and some guy stuff. Have you got an early class tomorrow?"

Resuscitating Tina

I walked over to the parlor we'd used as "The Morgue" during The Game. The door creaked a bit as I entered.

With the curtains drawn, it was quite dark, but little votive candles were arranged in a circle on the flooor, their flickering light illuminating Tina. I closed the door behind me.

My girlfriend lay on her stomach, her robe untied and draped over her back, showing just a little of her white panties underneath. Her arms were at her side, palms up.

I rolled her onto her back and covered her lips with mine. She didn't kiss back, not then. She still needed rescuing.

As it turned out, much mouth-to-mouth was required. Also necessary were some chest compressions, which I of course did much more gently than in "real" CPR. There was even some defibrillation called for, using toy paddles, but Tina jerked and rocked as if they were real, raising her breasts of the floor and arching her neck back. Sometimes she'd come to a little, but then drift off again with a little sigh.

There were also a few more procedures involved, none of which I think you'll find in the Red Cross manual.

It turns out that repeated resuscitations and, er, other activities got me quite an appetite, despite the huge breakfast.

Gazonga's

John and I went to this wings place called "Gazonga's", known for its nice-looking waitresses in little bitty black skirts and low-cut tight-fitting red tops. It's also got giant TVs showing sports on every wall.

"Even after getting punched, and sprayed with what turned out to be water, and watching someone try to kidnap your girlfriend?" asked John.

"I knew this girl in high school," I said. "We were really close. Not like boyfriend/girlfriend, but good friends. Her name was Bianca."

"Yeah, so we got a movie from Netflix once, called Gotham, " I continued. "It's a real mess of a movie, but at one point, the hero opens a cabinet, or maybe it was a refigerator, and this naked, dead woman (a very young Virginia Madsen) kind of pours out. He carries her limp body into the bedroom."

"Yeah," I continued, "so I'm looking at this scene and I say to Binaca that it's a really sexy scene, especially in such a miserable movie."

"Yeah," I said. "Bianca suddenly looks disgusted and scared... of me! She calls me all kind of names, turns off the TV and leaves. She's polite to me after that."

"I was online one time, just surfing around," John said, "and I saw this message board post where this fellow asked a model if she would do some photos playing dead. She did other sleepy stuff: chloro and even bondage, but she told the guy he was sick, and then a bunch of other models commented, telling her that she was right, and that folks who wanted girls to play dead were beyond perverted."

"So what's going on with The Game?" I asked. "Are we just really lucky to have found the only women in the world who enjoy this?"

"I don't think so," said John. "I think it comes down to trust. A lot of people are afraid these days, and there's very little trust. People are afraid that the guy on the internet is some kind of axe murderer, and not just a regular guy who'd like to talk. But I think that sort of thing swings back and forth. I think this might be the beginning of something, Tommy. Maybe people are starting to want to trust again."

"It says here," he said, "that I'm supposed to take you to a comic store called Becca's Superheroines on Banner Street for some computer gaming."

"Neither have I," said John, "but then, I haven't been to a comic store since I was seventeen."

Superheroines and Sleep Spray

Becca's Superheroines is hands-down one of the coolest places in the world. It's in a strip mall with a pet food store and a hair stylist, and it's kind of off Banner Street, which must be why I never noticed it.

The store looks like the headquarters of some superhero society, like the Justice League or the Fantastic Four. "Becca's Superheroines" is in big, heroic letters over the door. In the windows are movie-poster sized comic artwork illuminated by flourescent lights on all sides: Batman, the Hulk, Supergirl, Wonder Woman. A sign on the glass entry door said "MetalWar LAN Party, Tuesdays at 8PM." Another said "OPEN."

When John and I stepped inside, we saw a ton of comics displayed on shelves and cases. The carpet was red, white, and blue with stars and swirl. The walls were painted with the emblems of all my favorite characters, the Green Lantern, Superman, the X-Men, and more.

To our right as we walked in was a seven-foot tall lifelike statue of a gorilla with silver bands on its forearms and shins, and "DP" emblazened on its chest. It's face was contorted in a ferocious, silent roar.

"Dixie Primate!" I said. "The Amazing Ape of Adventure! The Super Simian! I can't believe it!"

My jaw dropped. It was SuperBecca. I mean, it was a woman dressed as SuperBecca. SuperBecca was only a comic book heroine.

The woman stood about 5 foot 9 inches tall, and looked to be in her thirties. She had red hair cut shoulder length, and a lovely smile that could melt the heart of Genghis Kahn. She was dressed in knee-high red boots, a long-sleeve blue leotard on which was emblazened the letters "SB", a short red skirt that showed off her lovely legs, a large yellow belt, and a red cape tied around her neck.

"You must be the sorority boys," she said with a lovely North Carolina accent. "Welcome! I'm Becca!"

"Good to meet you," said John. Then, turning to me, he asked, "What's a dixie primate?"

"Dixie Primate," I started, trying to control my enthusiasm, "is one of the heroes in a comic series from this guy in the New Orleans area and this woman named "Becca" in North Carolina. No one knows his real name, except, I guess, Becca, his friends and his publisher. The comics are super-edgy, kind of dark, and amazingly cool. SuperBecca is the main character, but there are a lot of others."

Becca smiled again. "Oh, they're much more popular than you'd think. I like that SuperBecca and I share a name."

"You called us 'sorority guys,' " said John, "so I guess Caroline or someone called you."

"Darlin', I've gotten phone calls all day long about y'all," Becca said. She looked at me, "You're Tommy, right?"

"You bet," Becca said, stepping out from behind the counter. "First, my niece Lacey calls and tells me abou the best Charon we ever had."

Becca walked past us to the front door. "Yes, and yes," she said. "I graduated in '87. I was a chemistry major."

Becca switched the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED", locked the door, and pulled down a shade to cover it. "Nobody comes by here on a Sunday afternoon," she said.

"So wait," John said. "I should know you then. You'd have been a junior or senior when I started."

"I used to wear my hair longer, John," said Becca. "And, for a while, I died it black."

Becca continued, "She called because my niece used to date this creep named Steven. The guy you had put away."

I whistled. "Picking on the niece of a superheroine," I said. "That can't be very wise."

Becca smiled again. "No, it's not. And we superheroines know how to reward real heroes."

Becca walked back behind the counter and produced two game disks. The boxes said "Metal War 2"

"Metal War 2?" I asked incredulously. "That's not coming out for another month!"

"There are advantages to running a place like this," Becca said. "There are some nice gaming rigs in the back room. You guys might like to have some fun."

"Just boot them up and pop in the disks," she said. "First, though, I'd like to ask a favor."

She bent down behind the counter and got a plastic squirt bottle and a white cloth.

"You catch on quick, sweetie," Becca answered. Then, in response to John's puzzled look, she added, "Back in the day, I was one of the women who cooked up the first batch of Sleep Spray. Our first thought was that it would be a kind of punishment for the ladies who were really bad at The Game, but we ended up just using it for everyone."

"The store's website always gets a nice lift when I post some video," she said. "I want you, Tommy, to knock me out with this stuff, and I want you, John, to videotape it."

"We'll put the video on the site and on YouTube just before the next SuperBecca comic comes out," Becca said. She handed me the Sleep Spray and cloth.

"The stuff's not full strength," Becca continued, "and I've kind of built up an immunity, so put some on the cloth and do it like chloroform. I'll probably be out for an hour or so."

Becca walked out from behind the counter, while John played with the camcorder. "I trust you," she said.

"Why don't you go over there and look through the SuperBecca comics," I suggested. "Act like you're trying to find the new issue."

"Wow! Great idea, darlin'!" Becca said. She walked over to the rack and started looking through the comics there.

Then, she stopped. "Oh, and you know, boys, that when I come to, it won't hurt me to put me right back out again," she said with a wink. "In fact, it's kind of fun!"

"Oh," Becca said, "and since I won't be able to tell you in a minute, have fun with Metal War 2!"

Becca rifled through the comics on the shelf while I poured some Sleep Spray on the cloth, careful not to breathe any myself.

I walked up behind her and clamped the cloth over her face, my other arm around her waist. "Silly SuperBecca!" I said. "You know the best place to find the new SuperBecca comic is at Becca's Superheroines!"

Becca struggled a bit longer, and I could feel her wriggle against me and push at my hand on her face. But soon, she grew weaker, and I felt her sag against me. Her hand slowly released its grip on my wrist and fell to her side.

I let her down to the floor, careful not to hurt her. I then tossed her over onto her stomach. She was a superheroine rag doll.

"Now, the time will pass more quickly for both of us," I said, and let out an evil laugh.

John moved the camera around Becca's unconscious form, capturing every angle. I rolled her back onto her back, and John repeated the camera work.

We both watched her a minute. Her skirt was ruffled just enough that we could see the edge of her leotard underneath. Her hair was softly falling on the floor.

I lifted Becca in my arms and caried her over to the glass counter. I lay her down upon it, letting her arms extend out over the edge. John read my mind and walked around her again, but this time also photographed her from below, up through the glass top.

We both looked at Becca. She was breathing softly, looking so helpless and lovely.

"I love my wife," John said, taking one of the Metal War 2 boxes and walking into the back room.

About an hour later, after John showed me that he really is good at Metal War, we heard light moaning.

This time, I took the camera while John applied the white cloth to Becca's mouth as she lay on the counter. She struggled weakly against him, but soon her eyes rolled back, and then closed again. Her hand, which had been pushing against John's chest, fell across her stomach.

John sat Becca's limp form up on the counter, then lifted her onto his shoulder. I was careful to find an angle to shoot so that I could watch her body melt over John's shoulder and onto his back.

John walked over to the life-size model of Dixie Primate and set Becca down on her feet against it. He let her slide down the Ape of Adventure's furry form until she was a heap at its feet.

We couldn't really leave unitl Becca came to again, since she had the keys to the place, and we didn't want to go another round in Metal War 2, so I suggested we try to pose Becca in recreations of some of the panels in SuperBecca comic books. (SuperBecca gets knocked out a lot.)

We went through some of the books Becca had on display, including my favorites, End of Innocence and Kryptoform, and videotaped ourselves setting Beca up to look like the comics. We figured she could use the videos or captures on her site.

She started to come to around four, which was awkward because we'd had her hog-tied inside a closet.

John rushed over from where he was trying to frame the shot and started to untie her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'll get you out in a minute."

I explained my idea and she absolutely loved it. She insisted on us finishing the shot we were doing, and proceeded to pretend to pass out in order to help.

When we were done, we untied Becca and showed her the footage we shot. She loved it so much she gave us each a mint-condition copy of End of Innocence.

We talked for a little bit about Metal War 2, the comic business, and this and that. Then my phone rang. It was Tina.

"Hey, Tommy," she said. "Lisa's grilling some burgers and stuff out by the pool. If you're done looking at comic books, you and John should come over to the House."

"Sounds great!" I said, and passed along the news to John and Becca. "Can Becca come too?"

"Sure," said Tina, but Becca was shaking her head. She had some guys who come by every Sunday evening for some gaming, and she also wanted to start editing the footage we took.

So, we said goodbye to Becca, promising to return soon with lots of paying customers, and headed back to the Sigma Sigma Gamma House.

Burgers by the Pool

Caroline met us at the front door, kissed her husband warmly, and led us down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out to the pool deck. Lisa stood by the grill. All the other game victims were standing around, eating and talking. They were all wearing their "Love the Game" T-shirts, little denim shorts, and sandals.

Lianne was there too, along with John's friend Seth and his wife Kelly the lawyer, both of whom I'd met at the pre-Game party. Kelly and Lianne were dressed as the other ladies, in tiny shorts and "Love the Game" shirts. Tina brought John and me a beer, and kissed me warmly as well.

Melanie has an ear-piercing hear-it-in-space whistle, and everyone fell silent. I checked to make sure I could still hear.

"Thank you, Melanie," Carolline said as she stepped up onto a deck chair to give her some extra height.

"Sisters," she said, "and adopted brothers, as Death Mistress for this year's Game, I have a presentation to make.

"For serving with distinction as this year's Charon, Tommy Walters is awarded his very own 'Love the Game' T-shirt, together with a DVD of most of this year's action."

"Don't worry, John and Seth," she said more quietly. "We have copies of the DVD too."

John rushed over to her. She stood over him on the deck chair and started to sway.

Caroline said in a weak voice, "I think... someone... put something... in my..."

She fell across John's shoulder, her long hair tumbling down, her arms falling limply and tapping John's rear.

His wife, Kelly, was slumped over a patio table. Her long blond hair was spilled over the table, covering her hands which rested just above her head.

"Indeed it is," Tina said, and pulled off her T-shirt, revealing a sparkling bikini top.

To my surprise, the other women (even Lianne) followed suit, revealing identical little tops. They all then removed their shorts, showing that beneath they were all wearing little sparkling thongs. They all, all except Lianne, walked through the back door into the house.

"Tommy," she said, and she shifted back and forth on her feet a bit, "the ladies were disappointed that the Game wasn't finished, that not everyone got Sleep Spray."

"Why are you so nervouse, Lianne?" I asked. "You look great in that costume, but if you don't want to wear it..."

She took a deep breath, and I struggled to keep my eyes on her face despite what her chest was doing to distract me.

"I haven't known you for years, Tommy," she said. "When I did, you were a kid. My instincts tell me to distrust you, to be a little afraid of you."

"I've decided I don't want to live like that," she said. "I don't want to push people like you away just because you might hurt me. I've decided to trust you, Tommy. We've all decided to trust you."

She took a breath and continued, "But do remember how much you love Tina, and how hard it is for some of us to let go of our fear."

"Good," Lianne said, brightening, "because this is one hell of an act, and I don't know how I'll ever get the chance to do it again."

Deep Hypnosis

The curtains were drawn tight, and a sheet had been stretched across the door to the hall. After we closed the kitchen door, Lianne adjusted the dimmer switch so that the room was softly lit.

The room's usual furniture had been pushed back to the walls. Five high benches with padded leather seats were placed in the middle of the floor, in a pentagon pattern. The benches seemed too high to sit on comfortably. The game victims each stood a foot or two away from a bench.

There were four camcorders set up in the room's corners, all with their red record lights on. Tina noticed me looking at them.

"Pretty soon," she said, "we're not going to be able to tell what's going on. Several of us want to see what we look like all hypnotized and dead and stuff..."

"Are you all on your marks?" Lianne asked. "Remember to stand up straight. Throw your chest out for Tommy."

Each game victim checked under her feet for a piece of masking tape stuck to the floor. They all faced directly away from their bench and stood tall. Melanie and Sarah giggled.

There was one piece of tape on the floor with no one standing on it. Who was missing?

Lianne said, "The props are part of my show, though I don't use them very often. They're heavy and hard to set up and cart around."

Lianne walked over to Tammy. "OK, we'll start with you." She placed her hand on Tammy's forehead. "Sleep," she said, and Tammy's head dropped against her chest, her arms relaxed by her side, but her back remained straight.

"Oh, right," Lianne said. She picked up a remote from a table next to the wall and turned on the sound system. Mysterious, lyrical music began to play, with a deep, fairly soft bass that sounded like a heartbeat.

Lianne walked over to Melanie, who stood next to the now entranced Tammy. Melanie looked a little self-conscious in her tiny costume. "Sleep," Lianne said, a hand on Melanie's forehead. Melanie's head fell, just like Tammy's, and her arms also fell relaxed by her side.

Tina and Lacey were at the next bench, and Lianne put them under in the same way. She proceeded on to Kim and Stephanie at the third bench, Lisa and Jessica at the fourth, and then Sarah, standing alone before the fifth bench next to the unoccupied tape mark. Each woman fell into a hypnotic trance, their chins against their chests, their breathing deep and relaxed, their arms limp at their sides.

"No," she said, and walked back to Tammy. The music changed and the heartbeat got louder.

The entranced women each lifted their arms high above their heads, as if reaching for the ceiling. Their heads remained down, however, and their breathing continued slow and deep.

Lianne gave me a moment to look around. It almost looked like the women had all been suspended by their arms from the ceiling. It was quite a sight.

"OK, Tommy," Lianne said. "You'll need to help me now. If we set this up right, you should be able to do it mostly by yourself."

Lianne walked up to Sarah, raised her chin and said, "Rigid rigid rigid rigid." Then, to me she said, "Put one hand behind her shoulders, and with the other, push her back."

She demonstrated, and Sarah toppled backward, stiff as a board. Her beautiful, long, red hair tumbled out of her face as Lianne let her settle onto the bench. Then, she let go, and Sarah tilted back, balancing like a see-saw. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, but her body and upstretched arms were iron rods.

"That's why we did the tape," Lianne said. "We found the place where everyone balances. Now, it's your turn. Who next?"

Lianne walked over to Tina, lifted her chin as she had Sarah, said "rigid" four times, and then stood aside, gesturing for me to take over.

Tina's flesh was warm, and her breathing relaxed, but she fell tautly backward to my touch just as Sarah did to Lianne's, and ended up balanced just like Sarah on her bench. She might have been tilted a little more foot-down, but only a little.

We proceeded through Tammy and Lisa and Kim, Lacey (who shared Tina's bench) and Melanie (on Tammy's) and Stephanie (on Kim's).

Before we got to Jessica, the last Game victim standing upright, Lianne asked me to pause the music, saying she'd gotten a bit behind. It was true that the heartbeat had gotten very strong and the mysterious melody had grown much more intense.

I retrieved the remote and clicked "pause" while Lianne prepared Jessica. The room was now oddly quiet. "Bring the remote with you," Lianne said, so I tucked it in my pocket.

I returned and lowered Jessica onto her padded bench just as I had the others. I took a moment to look around again. It was a very eerie sight, all of the ladies frozen and lying in more-or-less horizontal positions, two on each bench (except that Sarah was by herself), each with hair falling down, eyes closed, faces serene, wearing the skimpy flashy bikini tops and thongs and showing no sign of effort. Was this rigidity what Tammy meant when she said they'd be hypnotized and dead?

Then, I noticed that Lianne was again taking deep breaths. "Are you OK?" I asked.

"From here on," she said seriously, looking me directly in the eyes, "I'm in somewhat uncharted waters. We rehearsed this, but it's still a little scary."

Then, she kissed my cheek warmly. "Still, I trust you, Tommy. Turn the music back on," she whispered.

Puzzled, I pushed "play" and the music started again. Lianne looked down, shuffled a bit, then looked back up at me. I looked down too, and realized she was standing with her heels on the last strip of tape.

An odd, distorted voice interrupted the music. "Sleep," it said, and the music stopped.

Lianne's head fell forward, her arms limply at her side. Her long, wavy, brown hair curtained her face from me, falling past her waist. I peeked through and saw that her eyes were closed. It seemed the voice had entranced her.

Lianne lifted her arms to the sky, raised her face, and opened her eyes. They were blank and expressionless: dead doll eyes. She stood very erect.

"Rigid rigid rigid rigid," the voice on the recording said. Then, Lianne's voice added, "Tommy, I'm hypnotized like the others now. Tip me back onto the bench next to Sarah."

I did as I was told. Aside from the fact that her eyes were open, and now and then blinked, she was identical to the other ladies, an iron rod. Her brown hair fell back and pooled on the floor.

After a moment, Lianne's recorded voice said, "There's Sleep Spray on the kitchen table. Use it whenever you like, but before you do, say the victim's name and touch her forehead. She'll start to wake up a bit, so she can enjoy the feeling of the Sleep Spray. Spray me too.

The music started again, but this time, it was heavy on guitars, much darker and ominous.

Lianne's voice again, "In any order you like, Tommy, say someone's name. Sometimes, it might even work more than once for the same person."

Instantly, as soon as I said her name, Lianne changed from iron bar to wet noodle. Her head dropped back, her back bent, and her arms and legs flopped about. I walked around to see her face better. Her eyes were still open, staring off. Her mouth was agape.

I lifted her hand and let it drop. It offered no resistance, either to my touch or to gravity.

Lianne lifted herself up a bit, pulled her legs up bending her knees, but then collapsed again, this time closing her eyes and spilling off the bench onto the floor. Her knees were still hooked over the bench.

I looked at her for a moment, lying there beautiful and vulnerable, but then figured I had lots of time for gawking later. I walked back into the pentagon of benches.

Tina flopped back just as Lianne did, though when she did so, she jostled Lacey who was lying next to her. The lovely blond slowly tipped back, eventually resting on her fingertips, still quite rigid.

Tina, however, was anything but rigid. Her hands also rested on the ground, and her head bent back in parallel, her straight brown hair dusting her palms and just touching the floor beside the bench.

I leaned over the bench and lifted her head, then let it fall. It bounced and twisted before coming to rest where it was. I looked for a moment at my girlfriend, and then continued.

Tammy went ragdoll, just as the others. Her glasses slid up to her forehead. I removed them and set them carefully aside, not wanting them broken.

It was no surprise that Tammy was one of the "multiple little death" women. She jerked as if electrocuted, tossing bare arms and bare legs and brown hair back and forth wildly. She occasionally touched, or even kind of hit Melanie, but the larger girl didn't move.

Finally, she came to rest again, in nearly the same pose as before, except for the much more tossed and tangled hair.

Tammy did indeed have one more death in her. At my pronouncement, she jerked again, but this time, her legs jacknifed at the hip, toppling her heels over head off the prop bench, landing on the floor behind, her scantily clad rear end high in the air over her bent knees.

I thought that she must be faking the hypnosis to do such pitch-perfect poses. It was all right; she's amazing at these. But still, to be fair...

I walked out of the room, retrieving the Sleep Spray from the kitchen table, just as Lianne had said. I knelt beside Tammy's still form, patted her little behind and brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Tammy," I said, and touched her forehead, just as I'd been instructed, and just in case I was wrong and Tammy was really under.

Her eyes opened slowly. "I get to be first?" she asked in a high, breathy voice that didn't quite sound like she was waking up.

"I thought you might be faking," I said, and sprayed her face once, lightly misting her skin.

"How could you think..." she said, her voice, never really strong, trailing off at the end.

Her eyes closed again, and her body relaxed even further, her legs slowly, slowly unfolding, until at the very last, when her rear was only a palm's width above the floor, and then she suddenly dropped the rest of the way, and lay straight and motionless on her stomach.

Tammy would never forgive me if she saw the tape and didn't see me do anything with her. I grabbed her legs and dragged her around until she was next to her padded bench again. I then pulled her up by the feet onto the bench, and then let go so that she drooped down like in those old westerns when they threw the girl over the saddle.

I scooted Tammy down to the end of the bench farthest from Melanie. Then, I carefully rolled Melanie's rigid form over onto her stomach, always mindful of her balance. She had her brown hair in a ponytail as usual. I lifted it up and lay it down the center of her almost bare back.

She dropped violently into floppiness just as Lianne and Tammy, but this time, she bent forward at the waist and wound up draped over the bench, ponytail pointing to the ground, approximately mirroring Tammy's pose, but with Melanie's larger form, the effect was in many ways more sensuous.

"Melanie," I said again, but Melanie didn't react; she just lay flaccidly over the bench. Between her and Tammy in their little thongs, the view was quite pleasant.

For Sarah, I scooted her down to the end of her bench, and then lifted her rigid form in my arms, placing my hands carefully, mindful of how her body would change in a moment.

Instantly, she wilted in my arms, her waist sagging, her arms awkwardly bent, her neck arched, her mouth open. I set her down next to Lianne, covering Lianne's face with Sarah's long, beautiful, red hair. No reaction at all from Lianne or Sarah.

"Sarah," I said again, but she did not move. She simply lay there next to Lianne, lost and vulnerable.

I turned to face the bench where Lisa and Jessica balanced. Lisa's ponytail just brushed the floor, her legs extending out a few inches beyond Jessica's.

The fashion-magazine-beautiful Jessica and the tall ponytailed Lisa fell nearly together back into their arched positions, their arms touching as they rotated at the shoulders.

Lisa was a little unbalanced toward her feet, and started to slide down the bench, her arm drawing across Jessica's shoulder and causing her to turn slightly, getting more parallel with the bench.

"Lisa," I said again, and Lisa shook as if shocked with electricity. She fell with a thud to the floor, and pulled Jessica down with her. They lay in a heap, Jessica atop Lisa on the floor.

The stunning Jessica raised her head, drew the curtain of her hair back with one hand, and then dropped again onto Lisa's side, her head resting against Lisa's shoulder, her hand limply on Lisa's behind.

Then, I sprayed her face. She moaned softly, but the sound soon faded into silence. Slowly, the blush left Jessica's face.

I pulled her off Lisa, and then lay her very limp form onto her back. I lifted Lisa by the shoulders and posed her so that her face rested on Jessica's chest.

Slowly her eyes opened, then darted about. She pulled herself onto her elbows. "How did I get here?" she said.

With a little breath of air, Lisa fell back onto Jessica. A tiny bit of druel fell from her lips onto Jessica's skin.

I returned to the bench on which Tina lay collapsed backward, and Lacey lay stiff as a see-saw. I lifted Tina's arm, and let it fall. I lifted her leg and let it fall. She was still a rag doll on the bench.

I turned my attention to Lacey. I lifted her and posed her so that she lay along the bench now, her head on Tina's stomach, her unbending body such that her ankles just touched the far end of the bench.

Then, I said her name and she instantly relaxed as expected. Her legs parted and bent at the knees so that she straddled the bench, her arms brushed over Tina's body until they fell limply, one on either side of the bench, and her head slid down a bit along Tina's belly, leaving behind wisps of blonde curls. Her chin touched her chest.

"Lacey," I said again, and she surprised me by arching her back up and drawing her hands onto her stomach.

"You got me," she said in a breathy, distant voice. Then, as her body slowly relaxed again, she said in the same voice, "I'm dying. I'm dying. I'm..."

She lay limp as before, her arms and legs swinging slightly as they came to rest.

I suspected she was faking as well, but when I lifted her eyelids, her pupils were still and dilated. She was really under. Amazing.

I was in the mood to spray someone, and the first person I saw, other than Tina and Lacey (who I wanted to save for later) was Melanie.

She was still slumped over the bench, her ponytail pointed down to the floor, her rear end prominently displayed.

I undid her ponytail and let her hair curtain down, then, I got the Sleep Spray and lay on the ground beneath her, so that when she awoke, she'd see my face. I touched her forehead and said her name.

Then her eyes widened a bit as she began to understand her position, and her face flushed.

"Unh," she said, and drew her arms up onto the bench, trying to pull herself up.

But just as she started to rise, her strength began to fade, and she slowly collapsed back down onto the bench.

She had, however, managed to adjust herself enough that she was no longer balanced, and she slowly slid down. I felt her weight on my thighs as she melted onto where I lay beneath her. At last, she fell the rest of the way upon me, her chest pushing breath from me and her now loose hair dusting my face.

I turned onto my side and let Melanie's soft form roll off. She lay on her side, her back against the bench's legs, her arms making a "V", her child-like face peacefully resting. Her lips were slightly parted.

That left just Stephanie and Kim in the frozen form. They lay as boards across the same bench, oddly mismatched since Kim is so tall and leggy, while Stephanie is so short and petite. What to do with them?

I decided that I hadn't carried girls on my shoulder enough, so I pulled Kim up again until she was on her feet, doing an almost comic parody of a hold-up: her back straight, her hands reaching for the sky. I bent beside her, took her around her smooth waist, and turned her so that she faced away from the bench. Then, I leaned her a little toward me and said her name.

I felt her weight and the warmth of her body melt onto my back. Her arms limply slapped my buttocks and then fell to either side of me. Her knees buckled.

I lifted her up. She was soft and warm, and I ran my hand over the backs of her beautiful legs. I carried her to the center of the bench pentagram and laid her onto the floor. She was slightly curled onto her side, her eyes closed, her mouth open.

Her eyes snapped open. She stood slowly, almost mechanically. When she gained her feet, she whispered, "Tommy."

Kim's eyes were open, but seemed not to see me. There was almost no expression in her face.

I closed the half-step separating us and put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm right here, Kim," I said.

"Oh!" she said, in suprise and alarm. She jerked against me as if shot from behind.

"Ooooh," she sighed as she slid down my body, inch by inch, her hands sliding down my back, her chest and stomach sliding down against mine. She melted into a puddle on the floor, wrapped around my feet, her face resting on the tops of my shoes. She twitched a couple of times and then lay still.

And that left Stephanie. I stood her up as well, but, instead of preparing to lift her, I bear hugged her and carried her stiff enchanted body toward where Kim lay at the center of the room.

I lifted her a few inches off her feet and softly said her name into her ear, "Stephanie."

Her arms dropped down onto my shoulders and slid off. Her face fell against my neck right where it meets my shoulder. Her red curls tickled my chin.

I bent forward at the waist and watched her neck arch back as her head flopped away from me. I laid her down across Kim's limp form.

Now, everyone was finished except for the Sleep Spray, and Melanie, Tammy, Jessica and Lisa had already had that. I took the spray and walked around the room, tapping each remaining girl, saying their name, and spraying them.

"Lianne," I said, tapping her forehead after brushing Sarah's hair from her face.

She opened her eyes, noticed her precarious position (laying mostly on the floor with her legs still hooked at the knees up on the bench), and whispered, "What...?"

At the mist of spray, her eyes rolled back and closed again. I pulled Lianne's legs off the bench; I didn't want her to wake up without feeling in her feet.

"I love the feeling when I'm falling just as the spray starts working," she said with a little grin and in her cute British accent.

I sprayed her face, and she smiled even more before toppling over onto Lianne's inert form, her head resting on Lianne's stomach. In a moment, the grin faded from her face, replaced by peaceful slumber.

Tammy was already sprayed, but I didn't want to leave her all night bent forward over her bench. I lifted her very dead weight under the shoulders and let her settle onto the floor, next to Melanie.

Lacey still lay on her back on the bench, her head resting on Tina's stomach, her arms and legs dangling from either side. Tina lay arched backward beneath her.

I tapped Lacey's head and said her name. Her eyes opened slowly and she gave a little yawn. "Do I get sprayed now?" she asked.

"How about I spray you and Tina together?" I asked. "I don't want to leave Tina like that all night.

Lacey got herself to her feet and looked at Tina. She lifted her head just as I had done earlier, to see it settle back down as before.

"Tommy wants to spray us together," Lacey said. "It seems he's concerned about your muscle aches."

Lacey and Tina sat on the floor, Tina's legs crossing Lacey's. They held each other around the waist and put their faces cheek-to-to cheek.

"No, we don't," said Lacey. She tossed her hair back and put her face back against Tina's.

Lacey's eyes rolled back, and then she flopped onto her back. Tina dropped with her, but ended up on her stomach her arms still entwined around Lacey.

Kim and Stephanie were lying next to each other in the center of the room. They were the last two ladies who hadn't been sprayed.

I sat down and pulled the two of them onto my lap, resting Kim's head against my left shoulder, Stephanie's against my right.

I touched Kim's forehead and said her name. As she started to come around, I sprayed her face. She dropped quickly off again, her head sliding off my shoulder until it rested on the ground. She was arched backward over my left leg.

After walking around a bit, I sat down in one of the chairs that the ladies had pushed against the wall for the night's entertainment. I had intended just to sit for a minute or two, but next I knew it was bright daylight in the room. The props were all gone, and the ladies were too.

And just then all the Sigma Sigma Gamma sorority girls ran into the room, got to the center, and flopped down to the floor, piling onto each other as they went. Some (Tammy in particular) put the back of their hand to their forehead and fluttered their eyes just before they dropped down.

"The ladies look like they need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, Tommy," she said. Then, as she stepped over to the pile, she said, "Me too," and fell onto them.

Acknowledgments

This project began as something that sounded like fun. That's actually true of a lot of the stuff I do.

I had never written an extended piece of fiction before, though I had tried writing a long vampire story many years ago without much success. As an incentive to get me to actually work on the story, and make it work, I decided to share it as I went, chapter by chapter.

If you have been reading this chapter-by-chapter, you'll have noticed two pretty significant changes in this the "final" version: Caroline's husband is no longer nameless, and the narrator is consistently Tommy, except in the interlude segments. Both of these changes were necessary since the way it was seemed to interfere with the storytelling.

One of the true joys in making these changes is that I got to name one of my favorite characters (Caroline's husband) after one of my favorite people: John of the Shrine of Unconscious Women. For years, the guy has been both an inspiration and an encouraging voice to me and many others. Thank you, John, for all that you are.

Another joy in finishing this is that I got to include a fictional representation of another of my favorite people. Becca, from Becca's Superheroine Fantasies, is my best friend on the internet, more than just another inspiration and encouraging voice. I've written a number of stories for Becca, and also done a number of photomanipulations of her as DPsleepy and also as my alter ego Dixie Primate. I even tried to be her webmaster for a while. Thank you, Becca.

Finally, I want to express my extreme gratitude for all the people who've helped me with feedback and ideas. Msndrspdx1 in particular, gave me the idea for Lianne, though I fear she ended up far from his original conception. Playing online with GlovedFemale formed the ispiration for much here, particularly the "cartoon-like" knockout games which happened in the pre-game party. I truly and sincerely value EVERYONE who gave me feedback and advice over the months it's taken me to put this together. If I've offended anyone by their omission here, it is quite unintentional.

I invite and encourage you to share your thoughts with me about this work. In fact, even if you just want to talk, drop me a line. I would love to hear from you.

The Game

Contents

1. In(tro)duction

2. Invitation

Interlude

3. The Book of the Game

The 1950s

The 1960s

The 1970s

The 1980s

The Caroline Years

The Late 1990s and Early 2000s - Tammy's Movie

4. The Pre-Game Party

Interlude

5. The Opening Ceremonies

6. Tammy Dies

7. Lisa, I Think You Know Jessica

Interlude

8. Stephanie on Guard

9. Zombies

10. Protecting the Innocent

11. Poker

12. Trouble

13. Heroes

Waking Up

The Winners

Resuscitating Tina

Gazonga's

Superheroines and Sleep Spray

Burgers by the Pool

Deep Hypnosis

Acknowledgments