Dinner Party Horror
After dessert, my friends and I try to figure out the order in which we would die in a horror movie.
Stan, the aggressive male, would be murdered first. His macho-ness would lead him out into the woods or up into the attic, unprepared for what he'd find there. Chatty Peg would go next—too innocently boisterous. She'd walk right up to the killer and try to make friends. Then David would go, through no fault of his own, but because he's black—sorry to say, minorities never make it to the end of horror films. Susan would also meet a grisly fate because (she admits this herself) she's a bit of a slut and sluts are always punished in movies.
It's down to Mary and me—I think she'd be the lone survivor since she's the most likeable. She thinks I'd be the lone survivor since I'm the most likeable. And surely, if one of us were to die, it would be as she tried to save the other.
Then Stan says, Before you start congratulating yourselves, remember, one of your two bitches has to be the killer.
We are horrified. Did he really say bitches?
It's a joke, he assures us.
David chimes in, It's definitely an outside killer. Not Mary or Denise. Besides, Susan says her autopsy shows she was molested before she was butchered, so that means her killer was male, right?
Peg says Wait!—maybe Stan stabbed his twin right off to fool us, and he's not really dead, but has been lurking as the killer in the movie all along. Stan likes the idea of his character coming back in the final scene. David still thinks it's an outside job. Mary says the whole conversation is giving her the creeps. Anyway, she has to get up early in the morning. She gets up from the couch and reaches for her car keys.
Wait! Don't go out there alone!
I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen.
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