Last night we played fugitive (aka commando) with our FHE group. Typically I stage my own personal commando mission to avoid playing these kind of games with a group of my peers. Why you ask? Let me refer you to the time I played capture the flag with the singles branch, and after 20 minutes of not seeing anyone (I'm that committed) I ventured out in the open only to discover that the game had ended. The teams had switched sides. I was now in enemy territory. And no one bothered to tell me.After that I decided to sit the next 3-4 years out.
Yesterday my prepared excuse was the usual too much homework; I just don't have time; I don't want to go into cardiac arrest while sprinting for the first time since puberty; etc. etc. But riddle me this: If your roommate had offered to dress in a full batman costume (complete with billowing cape and utility belt) would YOU have missed it?
I didn't think so. And while I may not be willing to be the girl dressed as Batman, I'm more than willing to be the friend of the girl dressed as Batman.
That part of the plan went of without a hitch. Unless you call HeWeDoNotSpeakOf returning to his former glory by approaching-the-person-next-to-me-and-talking-animatedly-with-them-without-ever-acknowledging-my-presence-even-though-I-make-witty-comments-worthy-of-at-least-a-courtesy-laugh a hitch.
Personally, I do not.
When our fearless leader first yelled "GO" I thought that Haras had managed to tap into some previously unknown bat-resource as she nimbly maneuvered through the brush, skittered along the fence and in one bat-tastic flash disappeared behind a mound of dirt and gravel. Let me just say here that my gracefulness and dexterity hasn't been in such form since the Preference debacle of '02.
When I finally caught up with her, wheezing and panting, she had already devised our next attack move. Ylime was to be our time keeper (we were told we had an hour) Sarah was the brains, and I was. . . well . . . I think my main contribution was sheer comic relief. There's nothing like a good laugh when you're lying prostrate on some poor old lady's front porch.
Several times during the night I found myself literally "face down in the dirt" and I said "this doesn't hurt" but after about fifty face-first dives into the ditch . . . of destruction. . . (alliteration is my friend) I said "I've finally had enough" and I ambled along the rest of the journey, keeping a distance of at least twenty paces so my cohorts wouldn't see me secretly pleading for a flash flood to wash me away.
The rest of our adventure was a blur of pricker bushes, barbed wire, army rolls, and drops from an 8 foot wall. In the end, no, we were not caught.
Yes, we finished.
Yes, we were the last ones to arrive.
No, the rest of our group was not waiting to welcome us with cheers and high-five's.
Because, yes, they had all finished at least half and hour earlier and wondered if we had been eaten by hyena's because we wouldn't answer our phones out of fear that it was all a ploy to
force us into the open.
Yes, we come to play.
No, we were not happy to be walking home in victory.
Yes, we were glad to accept a ride for the last block before our house.
And yes, I am officially on sabbatical from anything classified as a "night game".
