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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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I perch, being a Norwegian Blue, albeit dead.
I goldfish. That is, I fish for gold.
I hake. Hall over. It's the Harthritis. Houch!
I kip, therefore I must be a kipper.
I've just had my shoes soled and eeled.
I hear sea shanties. Must be someone's Icod.
Speak up, Rosie, my herring's not so good.
(Softers) Surely you can still hear the bass.
(Rosie) No, mate, I have a bad cod.
Maybe you need the drumming of Max Roach.
Ah, Fish puns, fish puns, roly-poly fish puns!
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