Granddaughter recently had a birthday. One of her presents was the board game Cluedo, and she insisted we play. So far so good. I’d not played it for many years and had forgotten what the rules were etc. All I remembered was that I’d not liked it very much.
Nothing had changed; it was just as I recalled – for me, rather boring. A bit like an Agatha Christie murder, the characters are gathered in a posh country mansion and their host is murdered. The aim is to find out who is the killer, where in the house the murder took place and what the murder weapon is.
Was it a candlestick, a pistol, a knife? (there are several weapons). Did the murder take place in the dining room, or the library, or the kitchen? And who did it – Colonel Mustard, a scarlet lady ( was she Rose or somesuch name?), or the Rev. Olive – again, there are several protagonists. It all started to go over my head when we had to show the cards we were dealt with to one of the players, then mark off details on our own personal grid score card in order to deduce who dunnit. By then I didn’t care, and was completely clueless.
Far too logical for me. I wanted to know why the host had been murdered. What was the motivation? Who, out of all the characters, might have wanted him out of the way. What were their secrets? Was the host blackmailing one of them? Was there an inheritance involved? etc. etc. etc…. I was off on my own fantasy about what might have provoked the murder and failed miserably to fill in the grid score card and work out who dunnit, where they diddit and what weapon was used.
My right brain wanted to play but only my left brain was required for this game.
As far as I was concerned, the perpetrator could just as well have been Lenny the Lion in the toilet, with a pair of scissors!