Spoons!

We had some friends over just before Christmas and ended up playing a card game called Spoons. It's a grand game. Like that other Sport of Kings known as politics, it's all about passing the buck, violence, and greed.

The rules are simple. Everyone starts with four playing cards in their hand and then the dealer takes a card from the deck and discards one from her hand. The next person picks up that discarded card and does the same. The goal is to get four of a kind. As soon as one person gets four of a kind, they grab a spoon from the pile of spoons in the middle of the table. Then everyone else has to grab a spoon. The catch is that there is one less spoon on the table than there are players. And that's when the violence kicks in.

It's kind of like musical chairs, but with spoons. And no music. And everyone is sitting around a table instead of running in circles. And there are cards.

The person left spoonless at the end of the round suffers a forfeit of some kind. Last night they were just given a letter and were out of the game once they had spelled "donkey". How hilarious is that! Man, we laughed when Shields ended up being the Donkey. Hee! Hee! Hee!

Of course, things aren't always so civilized. When I was a teenager I played strip spoons a couple of times. In this variant, the stakes are much higher. I remember one particular game at Iain Ramadallah's house in which things were getting a bit edgy. In particular, Dawn Bannerman had lost everything but her panties and a buttoned shirt. I believe Iain was wearing her bra as a hat. The cards were passing fast and furious. Suddenly, Derrick got four of a kind, grabbed a spoon and smashed his fist down on the remaining spoons. They flew all over the room. I was the lucky one. One of the spoons struck me in the forehead and dropped in my lap. Everyone, except Derrick and I, threw back their chairs and began scrambling over the floor. One by one people emerged victorious with a spoon clutched in their grasp. And then, directly across from me, Dawn Bannerman stood up empty-handed, looking defeated.

But what's this? Stacy Horton was also spoonless. There must be one spoon remaining somewhere. And then they both spotted it. The last spoon had landed directly behind my chair. Stacy raced around the table to get it. Dawn had no time for such niceties and leapt on to the table, landing on her knees just in front of me. The buttons on her blouse, which were already under some strain, popped off; her shirt flew open; Iain's table snapped in half, propelling Dawn onto my lap and her naked boobs into my face. We fell over backwards onto the spoon just as Stacy arrived. They were both too intent on getting the spoon to regard me as anything more than an inconvenient obstacle and scrambled all over me, their hands pawing and clawing and reaching into unmentionable places. It was the best sex I had ever had up to that point.

That game remains the highlight of my spoons playing career.

(although I have had better sex since then)