Every year, everyone in my dorm participates in a mandatory game called Assassin. The rules we play by are interesting, if a little sickening. From even before the game commenced, as soon as we were issued our water pistols, everyone was on the lookout. Everyone was paranoid. No one could be trusted.
People were out to win, and they were nuts about it, brooding over every possible vector of attack. I wanted to have none of that, seeing as:
- I didn’t actually sign up to participate, which meant that I wasn’t supposed to participate. But I got drafted into the game anyways.
- I already knew who my “assassin” was. Bailey never tried to hide her role. Just a few minutes after the game began, she IM’d me, asking me, “are you in your room?” How’s that for “sketchy”?
- I didn’t, however, know who I was supposed to assassinate. Sure, I was assigned a person like everyone else, and of course I visited their Facebook profile, but that didn’t help: I’m horrible with names and faces.
So I decided to play the nice guy, à la Kentucky Joe. If they wanted to get me, I wouldn’t get in their way. I never once loaded up my little red and yellow friend with water. I even scheduled a “computer help session” to get myself out in the open, unprotected.
As it turned out, my assassin was the person I least expected: Brennan. He had already assassinated my assassin, Bailey.
Even though I didn’t make it incredibly far in the game (just under 24 hours), I was able to sleep peacefully last night, not brooding over my next confrontation. It’s not like there’s any real prize, after all, so I actually got something the winner won’t: some peace of mind.