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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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Shurely le huitisme must include the friendly octopus.
I have not worn my surgical stockings today.
My second-best truss is on the writing table.
Thanks for your support. I'll always wear it.
So who wore your surgical stockings today, Tuj?
Not me. I just word nylons and suspenders.
Does The Morniverse really need a pantomime dame?
…I feel like everyone is looking at me.
Oh no they're not! He's behind you!
My attention has been diverted by a leopard.
Can't be me...my fursona is a skunk.
Speaking of which, how is Projoy these days?
Alive, AFAIK. Posts occasionally.
He's alive and well. We tweeted last night.
Is that what it's called these days, then.
[Rosie] I suppose so. *Tweets regularly and often*
Bloody Christmas muzak in all the shops already.
I wish it couldn't be Christmas every day.
"Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin'?" Cheeses, no.
Well, now I want to change the subject.
I don't like losing my voice, at all.
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