All dressed up: Guests were assigned a character and given costume suggestions on their invitations.
Unlike summer when the days are long and there’s an endless stream of visitors popping in throughout the week, no matter the day, to catch up or bring their kids over for a swim, winter can be pretty isolating for a single parent who has “no weekends off”.
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There’s not as many family events in the colder months and people in general aren’t that inclined to want to head out after dark — and it gets dark early.
I get restless in winter. I miss seeing my friends as regularly as I do in summer.
My young are happy enough to mostly hibernate; at one with their devices in their rooms on cold nights, chatting with their own friends online.
On the menu: The game was Death by Chocolate and the setting was Paris in 1900.
I had picked up a murder-mystery game spontaneously out shopping one day, mainly because I loved the silver-foil-on-black-box design, flaunting pretty skulls and florals, but also because I’ve never hosted, nor been to, a murder mystery party in my more than four decades on this earth.
It was also cheap (under 20 bucks), and I thought that would make for a cheap night.
I mean, I ended up spending a couple hundred-plus more on food for a three-course meal for eight and decorations because I get a little carried away a little too often, but it absolutely doesn’t have to cost a host that.
Even though the game itself suggests providing a three-course meal because the game lends itself to that format, you could just as easily do it with a simple cabana and cheese platter, some pizzas and a box of ice-creams with everyone splitting the cost if you wanted to.
I felt winter was the perfect time to host the event, so some friends could get together in the warmth and comfort of a private home, no matter the weather, and so my kids could stay happily hibernating in their caves and my friends could bring theirs along if they needed to, too.
The game box suggested it was an adults-only game, but after playing, I would have had no issue with my 15-, 14- or 12-year-old being exposed to the content — it was pretty tame.
Every guest was assigned a character and every invitation had costume suggestions.
In the weeks leading up to the night, which had taken the eight of us some to-ing and fro-ing to find a date to suit all, I set about planning a menu, designing artwork for a menu, making skull-shaped placecard holders, getting custom character name pens printed, gathering decorations and ordering accessories to go with my costume.
I also ordered some of the non-perishables, long-life and frozen goods required for the meal in each of my weekly shops to break the overall expense into more bite-sized pieces.
In the days leading up to it, I cleaned the house, shopped for the fresh foods, set up the table, decorated the room and prepared food.
(Let’s not talk about the day after it though, that was much less fun. If I could insert an emoji here it would be that ‘ugh’ face — surely nobody likes the clean-up?)
Once guests arrived in costume, we got acquainted, had some appetisers, poured some drinks and read the rules of play and a little info about each of our own characters in our individual character booklets.
Then we streamed a video introduction by the game makers to the TV before beginning the game.
Between a couple of women portraying male characters, a puppet talking with the help of its ventriloquist and a bunch of clues that would suggest all participants had some kind of motive for “killing” our “deceased” — chocolate mogul Billy Bonka — it was a little hard to keep up, but hilarious and fun nonetheless.
We read from the books our parts, just like actors rehearsing a play, revealed and withheld vital information as directed, questioned and accused each other of misdemeanours, all the while ad-libbing, laughing and enjoying an obscene amount of delicious food.
The cocktails didn’t help my confusion, and when the three acts were up and it was time to point the final finger, mine was in the wrong direction.
It would seem that some people make themselves look very guilty while trying to prove their innocence.
Or maybe I just didn’t take enough notes.
In the end, identifying the traitor among us was the least important part of our night.
The most was avoiding the isolation of winter and sharing treasured time with good people.
I don’t think my attention span is really made for murder mysteries, but even so, I do reckon everyone should have a crack at this once in their life.
You’re the detective: There are a series of different murder mystery games by the same maker available.
