"What am I supposed to do?" - Jazzanova, No Use (Soul Sessions 2)
You may remember the road trip game of champions, Marry. Fuck. Kill. It's fun and hard but fun and may bring tears to your eyes as you consider the possibilities that are really out there.
I have a problem, though. I have a tendency to call the game Murder. Fuck. Kill. You know, like as in murderdeathkill or Murder by Death or any of the other ways you might associate murder with the word kill.
So, on my way to work yesterday, I was thinking to myself. I said, "Self, what about a game called Mudered. Fucked. Killed?"
Self responded affirmatively and here we are.
Same general concept as Marry. Fuck. Kill. in that you receive three names and you must decide their fates. The fates are less kind to them, however.
Murdered - This person would have to be killed by you personally. You have to determine the method of murder as well. It just must be by your hand.
Fucked - This person would just be put in a situation in which they couldn't possibly survive...but they might. Just like in the movies. You'd be playing the evil villian and saying, "Dude, you're so fucked." and walk away cackling maniacally but since you're an evil villian there's probably some detail you've forgotten and if they are lucky enough they will get free and be better for it.
Killed - You don't want to get your hands dirty but they must die. You pay for it to happen and then go about your day.
Get it? No? You will. Let's play.
I know it's the cool thing to say right now but let's just establish that I truly am tired of seeing Ben Affleck, Jennifer Lopez and Ashton Kutcher on my TV screen right now. They are my inaugural victims.
Ashton Kutcher doesn't get my hate so much as I'm just really tired of hearing his name, seeing him on my tv, being on the cover of every fucking thing in the entire fucking planet. No. He doesn't make me angry. I'd have him killed. The less I have to think about him the better. One phone call. One shot to the head. Dude, you've been punk'd.
Jennifer Lopez. J.Lo must be murdered by my bare hands. I think there may be torture involved. There are visions. Black gloves. Asphyxiation. I may be a sociopath. I fully admit this.
Ben Affleck. Now, see, Ben is a problem only because he's given up alcohol and started wearing pink shirts and makeup to show how much he loves that dead girl from the block. I'd drive him out to the desert and chain him to a rock. I'd remind him that he used to be funny. Back when he was the alcoholic batman to Matt Damon's snarky robin. Back when he played unlovable assholes in movies like Dazed & Confused or unlovable archangels in Dogma. I'd tell him it was for his own good and then i'd cackle maniacally and walk away...but the key to the chain would fall out of the hole in my jeans just out of reach. With some luck he might very well escape his fucked situation and be a better person for it.
I truly believe that.
Is this fun or frightening?
What if it was people you actually liked?
I might be scaring myself.
Do you wanna play or do you wanna run away?
Umm, yeah.