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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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Sunday afternoon. Wasted most of it asleep. Bugger.
Monday morning sunshine! Stuck in the office. Bugger.
Monday morning rain. Snug in the office. Smug.
Monday morning, retired, lazing at home, even smugger.
Aching shoulders, arms. But in a good way.
[Raak] Have you been lifting pretty ballerinas again?
[pen] Just beating on drums the whole day.
What goes with fried onions? A friend asks.
Liver. Sausages. Bacon. Black pudding. More fried onions.
Steak, hot dogs, more hot dogs. Damn. Hungry.
Your appetite appears insatiable, pen. Is this good?
[Rosie] Absolutely not. I'm a fat bloater, curses.
Never thought of you as a fish, pen.
The pen fish is mightier than the swordfish.
Nobody has made a comment for two weeks.
Except you. You broke the radio silence, Softers.
If we're very quiet, that might mend it.
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Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord