A Typical Murder

Picture the scene. You meet at 8pm. A fire blazes away to your left, as you settle into a luxurious leather dining chair surrounded by the buzz of enchanting old friends chatting, and some exciting new possibilities. The dining room is a bustle of people, some strangers, some friends. You begin the small talk of how dreich has it been when when...

....You are rudely interrupted by an over dressed melodramatic woman screeching through the dining room. "M..mm..mmmm...mm...!" she splutters. Out the corner of your eye you notice in the doorway an excited eccentric Major, elephant gun already cocked in one hand, booming out "Murder?".

"No, mmm...mm..m...Moth! A great big hairy one in the hallway!" She faints heavily, feather boa gliding to the floor after her like a dying flamingo, and we haven't even met the victim yet!

Within moments the room is filled with strange and larger than life characters, bringing with them the news of a malicious murder, a violent, cold blooded death which will plunge your quiet uneventful evening into chaos. Watch as the story unfolds; betrayals, affairs, riches, love, lust, hatred, all played out before you. Like a hyperactive blend of Terry and June meets Blackadder, meets Casablanca meets Cluedo meets something entirely new it will make you laugh, purse your lips, scowl, and gasp. Try doing all that at the same time without our help!

Laugh? I nearly died!

Once the victim is most definitely dead you are presented the first course of a sumptuous dinner, after all it is difficult to think on an empty stomach. Poirot stimulated his 'little grey cells' with a crème de menthe, Morse drank ale, and Colombo loved his chilli; so what will it be for you? You may be ready for some peace by now, but you will have no such luck, as you and your table must interrogate each of the suspects in turn. The accused, if you trust them, will sit and eat with you, drink with you, laugh with you, and reveal all through the course of your meal, moving between the tables until you have interogated each suspect in turn. Ask them anything. Did they have a motive? Did they have a weapon? Did they have the means? Did they have the oppurtunity? Could they pass the salt? Do you think they have the sheer bottle? Do you?

Once the questions and the food are exhausted you must make your accusations. You know who did it, you even know why they did it, and you're having a damn good guess as to how they did it. The Tentpeg Murderers finally drag the truth kicking and screaming from its hideyhole, and reveal the true Murderer for the demonic double dealer that they are. Were you right?

Probably not.

But who cares, with the culprit out of harm's way you can finally relax into that luxurious armchair you had found with a scotch and cigar. If only Major Rumpus would get out of it.