This is a dinner party murder mystery for 7-9 people that is conducted using text messages. You’ve already received the location and time where you’ll be playing, and all you need to bring is your fully charged cell phone. You can expect to receive about 200 text messages over the course of the game (all sent from the number of the person hosting the party), and normal messaging rates will apply, so if you don’t have an unlimited plan you should keep that in mind.
The game progresses via timers and interacting with the host’s phone. You won’t need to download the app (unless you’re the host), but the host’s phone will get passed around a little bit. A little into the night, one of the characters will die, and it’s up to you and your fellow players to figure out who murdered the poor soul. Everyone is a suspect, and you’ll need to work together to solve mini-games, contact the void, and maybe even get musical.
You’ve been assigned the character Dallas Eustace, who is the bubbly husband of the owner of the boat the murder takes place on. That dude in the picture is your character: you’re encouraged to dress up.
Here’s the monologue you’ll read to the group to introduce yourself. It should give you a flavor of the man you are:
I suppose if I’m going to introduce myself I should start with the fact that I was once a child prodigy. I got a perfect score on the SAT, ACT, GRE, MCAT, NEWTS, and Driver’s License Test all before my eighth birthday. By the time I was twelve I had written the book on how to grow human cancers in rats, and I had also written a book for rats about how to survive being given human cancers. Both were New York Times bestsellers. But I found myself unfulfilled by all of my research. I had personally cured two rare types of plague, but what did it all mean? Was I really bringing joy to people, or was I just curing them of debilitating and horrifyingly painful diseases? I decided to go into something that more immediately brought joy to the world. I decided to go into go-go dancing}. I loved it. People didn’t just love me for my mind, anymore, they loved me for my body. And it was a lot easier to get money from drunk bachelorettes than it ever was to get research funding from the government.