"The lobster dice have special significance," said Douglas. "And if you should be so fortunate as to have a lobster turn up on your roll, it changes your move. For instance, if you roll the three dice and get two fives and a lobster, the total isn't eleven, it's ten-lobster."
"How many do I move for the lobster?"
"One," said Douglas.
"Per lobster," added Tom.
"So that's eleven," said Rainie.
Douglas and Tom both made a show of looking stricken. "An unbeliever," said Douglas. "I never would have thought it of you."
Tom addressed the others. "If she can't tell the difference between eleven and ten-lobster, then what if she rolls, like, four-lobster- lobster?"
They all shook their head and made mournful noises.
"I worry about you, Ida," said Douglas. "You seem to have an unhealthy grip on reality."
"Nay," said Cecil, "reality hath an unhealthy grip on her."
"Maybe I'm not worthy to use the lobster dice," said Rainie.
"Ah," said Douglas. "That's all right then."
"What is?"
"As long as you think you might be unworthy, then you are worthy."
"Thinking I'm unworthy makes me worthy?"
"Here are the sacred lobster dice," said Douglas. "You found the perfect last line for the song. You served us our beans and brought us our drinks. No one is worthier than you."
He spoke with such simplicity and sincerity that, even though she knew he was joking, she couldn't help but be touched. "I'm honored," she said, and meant it. She took the dice and rolled.
Two of the dice showed lobsters. The other die showed an ace. Some of the men gasped.
"One-lobster-lobster," murmured Cecil.
"The first roll of the game."
"Surely good karma will triumph tonight."
"Tell me," said Cecil, "are you perchance a visitor from another realm, temporarily dwelling among us mortals in disguise?"
"No," she said, laughing.
"Have you not been sent by the Baby of Love," Cecil insisted, "to bring the blessing of healing to a world of woe?"
Rainie reached out her hand toward Cecil. "Flesh and blood, see?"
He touched her hand, cradled it gently in his, as if it were a porcelain rose. "Ah," he said, "she is real. I know it, for I have touched her."
"She's not a real person," said Grandpa. "She's a ghost. Can't you tell? We're being haunted here tonight. Ida Johnson is just a figment of her own imagination."
The others chuckled, and Rainie laughed. But as she took her hand back from Cecil, she felt strangely shy. And when she looked at Grandpa, she found him gazing at her very steadily.
"I'm not a ghost," she said softly.
"Yes she is," said Grandpa to the others. "She can fool you boys, but not these old eyes. I know the difference."
"One-lobster-lobster," said Douglas. "Let's get this game moving!"
The game got moving. It took only a few minutes for Rainie to get into the spirit of it. The game was about life and death, but what happened with the dice was almost trivial compared to what they all did to each other with the power cards. The game had hardly begun when the blond guy at the other end of the table -- Jack? -- played a card on her that said,
"THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER ..."
Allows you to swap power
cards with another player.
and in one moment she found herself with a handful of completely different cards. It wasn't Jack's turn, or hers -- he just felt like playing it.
In a moment, though, she saw why. Douglas had landed on a square whose pigpath -- the line connecting it to the pigpen -- had only three dots on it. Jack played one of her former Release-the-Pigs cards, and they all whooped and hollered and lined up the baby pigs at the head of the pigpath, with Momma Pig last in line.
"This is pointless," said Douglas. "I'm still primordial ooze. I can't regress any farther than that."
"I want you in hell," said Jack.
"But I won't go to hell. I don't have any karma at all yet."
"You personally released the pigs on me twice last time. Tonight you're never going to be reincarnated."
"Grudge-holding is beneath you, Jack."
Jack burst into a country-music song.
If I can't hold me a woman, Then a grudge will have to do. The woman I'd hold against myself, But the grudge I'll hold against you.
Rainie had never heard the song before, so she figured he had made it up. The tune was actually pretty good.
The pigs were about to start charging down the pigpath when Jack played her former card adding two pigs to the pen. Now there were even more pigs on the path, and since they leapfrogged instead of taking turns, the pigs were bound to reach Douglas. Each pig that got to him would cost him two life-pennies, except for Momma, who would cost him four. Since everybody started with only ten life-pennies, he was doomed.
"I need the lobster dice," said Douglas.
"You need an angel from heaven," said Jack.
Tom handed Jack the two bad-karma cards he got for playing evil power cards.
"Oh, these are bad," sad Jack.
"Only what you deserve," said Douglas.
"Well, before we sic the pigs on you, Dougie, let's try this." Whereupon Jack laid down another of Rainie's old cards, the one that allowed him to swap karma with Douglas. Since Douglas had none and Jack had two bad karma cards, it meant that when Douglas died his karmic balance would be negative and he'd go to hell.
"You are one seriously evil dude tonight, Jack," said Raymond. "I like your style. Let's see what happens with this one." He laid down an evil power card that said,
"ANGRY OINKERS"
doubles the damage of
all pigs on a given pig
attack
"Hey, how dead can I get?" asked Douglas.
"We won't find out on this turn," said Grandpa. He laid down a good power card that said,
"FAIR IS FAIR" Causes the person who released the pigs to take the damage from a pig attack (only when pigs are released on someone else)
"Son of a gun!" shouted Jack. "You can't do this to me!"
"Can so."
"I'm not even on a pigpath!" It was true. Jack's playing piece -- the plastic triceratops -- was on a square with no path connecting it to the pigpen.
"Doesn't matter," said Tom. "You're taking the damage from the attack on Douglas, so the pigs will still follow his pigpath."
"And since you just played that evil power on Douglas switching your karma, you get a new evil power card of your very own," said Grandpa. "So if you die, you'll go to hell."
The pigs started down the path. As each baby pig advanced to a new dot on the path, Jack got to roll one die. If he got a one or a two, the pig was "popped" and returned to the pen. He wasn't lucky -- he only popped two pigs, so five reached him and he was dead before Momma could even start her run down the path.
Just before the last pig reached him, though, he played the other Release-the-Pigs card that he had got from Rainie, and since this one was "for the good of the whole" he got a good karma card for it. "Ha!" he said. "It's a ten and my bad karma card was only a four. I'll go to heaven, and Douglas still has to face the pigs!"
So once again the pigs were lined up and started down the path. Rainie looked again at the cards she had gotten from Jack. One of them said,
"PERHAPS I CAN HELP" Allows you to heal another player of all damage. (Will not work after they have been killed).