We're not "lion"...we didn't cheat!

Game night. Otherwise known as a way for Geri to showcase how stupidly inept the rest of us are compared to her...ugh! Any game that takes over 15 minutes of direction-explaining (allotting, of course, for another 15 minutes of questions and clarification) is certain to be in Geri's wheelhouse. But the food was good, the drinks were generous, the house was charming, and the company was kind...no, scratch that...not ALL of the company was kind...one team was immediately deemed "The Mean Girls" for their unsportsman-like behavior, unfounded accusations, and unnecessarily loud and intentionally obnoxious  "time's up" noises. 

By God's good grace (and a late entrance), I ended up on the perfect team, comprised of three laid-back
ladies with a complementary blend of talent, enthusiasm, and convivial wit with a confounding side of "We could care less" which would suddenly surprise the one who insistently ordered it up (in spite of the warning asterisk listed on the menu) with a sharply bitter, lingering aftertaste*.

No one (not even Geri) knew what the hell was going on. My team...cruelly (and for no discernible reason except to discredit our good names and reputations) was called The Cheaters (The game had barely even started yet!) but Bev, Tracey, and I recognized that one must not fight the current of a riptide...we instead decided to go with the flow...like our courageous, underdog forefathers, who were cruelly mocked during the glorious Revolution with a Weird Al parody of a pub shanty (Yeah, ya Lobster Backs...Yankee Doodle THIS! And stick your feather THERE!), we embraced the name and made it our own...The Cheetahs (complete with choreographed celebratory high-fives with sound effects).

Generational differences soon made a painful appearance:  Some in the crowd easily recognized the introductory music for The Smurfs while others thought it was a polite word for flatulence. One of our youngest (and loudest and meanest and most obnoxious) members didn't know who Carol Burnett was and was almost immediately expelled from all future Game Nights. 

Even though no one actually had a full handle on the rules, everyone (except the laid-back ladies of The Cheetahs) loudly voiced their objections to any perceived infractions. "She used TWO words," one player yelled. Geri who self-appointed herself judge-and-jury of all things (No one opposed her since she controlled the flow of liqueur) yelled back, "Opposed...stinky was a brainstorming word leading to the word dirty which determined the correct phrase of "Dirty Harry." It goes without saying that a lot of pouting and sulking accompanied ALL of Geri's decisions. Geri, herself, had to be brought into line when, in a fit of frustration, she leaped up behind the clue-giver who was pointing frantically to the sky at pretend "stars" to flash Spock's classic Vulcan salute. "How hard is it to give a clue for Star Trek?" she shrieked. "Wow!" whispered fellow Cheetah, Tracey, to me, "I could hear her even with the malfunctioning hearing aide in my back ear." "Which ear?" I asked, worried that maybe she wasn't hearing my clues clearly enough. "Don't worry," she said, winking, "I can hear with my final-front-ear." Naturally, as we howled with laughter, The Cheetahs were again accused of guilefulness and subterfuge.

The limits of mimicry and hand motions were sorely tested. We delighted at Geri racing at Bev to be
swept magnificently into the air a la  Baby and Johnny in "Dirty Dancing." That was pure, undisputed art. She (Geri) threw (another) fit, disgusted by a player who, for "Psycho," slashed horizontally rather than vertically but as it was a question of execution rather than rules, the point was not disputed...only mocked. However, another player holding up her hand three times to flash 4-5-1 for "Fahrenheit 451" seemed completely unfair. "Over-ruled," our judge declared while I seethed and stormed that, by that decision, I might as well finger-spell all the clues using ASL.  Geri eyed my near-empty glass so I elected to die on another hill. 

We roared as Rachel rocked her clues...ribbeting her way across the floor for "Frogger" and then repeatedly racing out of the room to peek back in for "Terminator." Everyone was stunned when Bev hummed the Addams Family tune and I bellowed, "The Munsters!" (Yes...we were, again, immediately accused of cheating.) When given the opportunity to pass, Virginia littered the floor with clue cards like they were confetti. And as fast as our flower girl tossed down her petals, Rachel raced to pick them up so "The Cheetahs" couldn't see them. "Boy, she has a LOT of faith in our vision," Bev whispered. 

"The Cheetahs" missed a first place finish by ONE point but we celebrated our second place victory with our signature high-five with sound effects. By tomorrow, NO ONE will remember who placed first, second, or third. But they will remember our choreography AND how a small group of under-estimated, misjudged, and maligned women overcame incredible obstacles, rising above the malicious jealousy and mean-spirited bitterness around them to compete competitively while modeling gracious, dignified behavior; cheering on their opponents and congratulating all for their efforts. Cheetahs-of-the-World...UNITE!

("Don't listen to her," Geri interrupted, finally managing to infiltrate Amy's blog, "she's trying to pull a fast one.")

*Refer back to Paragraph 1:  Sub-section Two: Mean Girls