I accuse myself

missscarlettWe’re playing a lot of Cluedo in our house at the moment, and I can’t help noticing how ridiculous the game is. For instance, how could a character not know whether they were the murderer? And what kind of mad house has rooms that do not connect to each other, but instead are reached by a hallway that threads its way throughout the entire building?

Despite these absurdities, Cluedo somehow manages to leave a deep, lasting impression, so that every man, woman and child who has ever played it secretly longs to live in a house with a ballroom, a library and a conservatory.

And, I have a confession to make.

When I was young I secretly loved Miss Scarlett. I knew that she didn’t love me back, but that first unrequited love was deep and passionate. I knew that other small boys loved her too, and that the cold-hearted bitch didn’t care for them either. We all knew it, bit it didn’t matter. Our desire for the aloof, scarlet woman was just too strong. We would have done anything for her, if she would just have acknowledged us in some small way. But she never did. She never could.

And so, I admit it. It was me. I murdered Dr Black. It was a crime of passion. I did it in the library (or was it the billiard room?) and I used Miss Scarlett’s cold, disdainful looks as the murder weapon.

Advertisements

2 responses to “I accuse myself

  1. I used to play this game when I was young. Do you know you could actually master the game or discover all its intricacies that the game becomes useless as a consequence? It’s really entertaining and fun in the beginning, though.
    I’ve forgotten about Miss Scarlet but ladies could learn a thing or two from her. Oooh, how crimes of passion never fail to enrapture. You’re quite a slick murderer, Mr. Morris. 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s