A small group of strangers were huddled around a long, oak table adorned with two ornate candlesticks that were lit to help provide an ambience of mystique for this particular evening.
The group consisted of:
Tiffany Brown, School Teacher
Georgeanne Cratchett, Nurse
Debbie Spellman, Engineer
John Mustard, Air Force Colonel
Joyce Fox, Psychiatrist
Kristin Tyson, Stock Broker
Mike Manson, Plumber
Mary Johnson, hostess of the bed and breakfast inn.
The table was located in the center of the upstairs dining room in a bed and breakfast inn on the outskirts of Seattle. They had all signed up with Mary to play the murder mystery game that the inn provided for their guests’ enjoyment. Mary’s explanation of the rules for the game was cut short by the lights going off unexpectedly. Mary told the group to stay seated and remain calm. “This happens periodically, and the electrical panel is downstairs in the library. I’ll be right back,” she said as she grabbed her flashlight and rushed hastily out of the room. Fifteen minutes later the agitated group had run out of patience, demanding someone in the group needs to do something. Finally, the Air Force colonel stands up, grabbing one of the two candlesticks from the table, saying “I’ll go, but I’ll need this to see my way down the stairs.” Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he realized he didn’t have a clue where the library was. He systematically tried each door in the hallway until he reached his goal. As he was entering the room he raised the candlestick higher. At the same time, Mary, hearing his footsteps behind her, began turning around while her face filled with pure, unadulterated terror. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, “No, no…it can’t be…It’s Colonel Mustard…in the library…with the candlestick!!!”
The group consisted of:
Tiffany Brown, School Teacher
Georgeanne Cratchett, Nurse
Debbie Spellman, Engineer
John Mustard, Air Force Colonel
Joyce Fox, Psychiatrist
Kristin Tyson, Stock Broker
Mike Manson, Plumber
Mary Johnson, hostess of the bed and breakfast inn.
The table was located in the center of the upstairs dining room in a bed and breakfast inn on the outskirts of Seattle. They had all signed up with Mary to play the murder mystery game that the inn provided for their guests’ enjoyment. Mary’s explanation of the rules for the game was cut short by the lights going off unexpectedly. Mary told the group to stay seated and remain calm. “This happens periodically, and the electrical panel is downstairs in the library. I’ll be right back,” she said as she grabbed her flashlight and rushed hastily out of the room. Fifteen minutes later the agitated group had run out of patience, demanding someone in the group needs to do something. Finally, the Air Force colonel stands up, grabbing one of the two candlesticks from the table, saying “I’ll go, but I’ll need this to see my way down the stairs.” Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he realized he didn’t have a clue where the library was. He systematically tried each door in the hallway until he reached his goal. As he was entering the room he raised the candlestick higher. At the same time, Mary, hearing his footsteps behind her, began turning around while her face filled with pure, unadulterated terror. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, “No, no…it can’t be…It’s Colonel Mustard…in the library…with the candlestick!!!”
