"What, silent still? and silent all?"

"Ah, no - the voices of the dead/Sound like a distant torrent's fall."

Trouble was afoot in the Mesa last night. A rich man, by the name of Rupert Sheinhardt, was hosting a party to celebrate his many accomplishments and marvel at his good fortune. He is the wealthiest man to ever hail from, visit, or even look upon Muncie, Indiana. But, before he could make his appearance, he was murdered!

Since I was invited to this "Murder Mystery Dinner", I was able to take part in the fun and spectacle involved in solving this mystery. Everyone was given a character. Every character (besides the detective - he was there to moderate) had a grudge against Rupert. He had afflicted everyone in attendance by his greed and selfishness. His offense towards myself was that he was inheriting my aunt's estate. An estate that should legally have been MINE. I was a nasty, rich, aristocratic snob. I was terribly mean to everybody. . . for about thirty seconds at a time. I couldn't keep it up much longer than that. Everyone else was much better at staying in character. I guess it comes from attending a media school. . . you witness a lot of theatrics so you feel more comfortable with them. Whatever the reason, the other people were absolutely fantastic in their roles. My raspberry was a stupendous Texan. . . accent and all. My sister was the victim/host's sister, and was married to "the short one." I was unfailingly and consistently nasty to both my sister and her "honey-bunny". (Isn't it funny that it is easier to be mean to people that you know? You think it would be easier to insult people that you weren't friends with. Another phenomenon of the human psyche I suppose)

The evening was stupendously fun. I, being the snob, spent a lot of time with the jerk in the room. We got to insult each other all night. But, in the fun, we let the murderer win. Somehow, and this remains a mystery to me, I was the last one left with the murderer. I had the opportunity to kill him, but I killed the short one instead. Granted, the short one was acting suspiciously and, like Mofia, there isn't much real evidence to go off, but I still feel terrible! I could've killed the murderer! But I didn't! He got away with murdering 30 people! Horror of horrors!

But it was ETMF, and I'd do it again. I want to send out a big "thank-you" to "Effie" the maid, the mother of the host (whose character name I can't remember!), and the cowgirl who didn't officially have a character as far as I could tell.