The Game of Three Things
The first game I ever invented was co-authored by my friend Ryan. We developed its intricate rule system while lying on couches discussing what we wanted to eat.
“Name some fruits.” I said.
“Apples.” He said.
“Oranges.” I cut in, playfully.
“Bananas!” He rejoined.
“Plums!” I interjected. And by then it was clear that a road had been taken which had to be followed until the blacktop stopped at the edge of a cliff or our motors ran out of gas. We laid the issue of our hunger aside for the moment.
“Pears!” I said.
“Guavas!”
“Grapefruit!”
“Coconuts!”
“Watermelons!”
“Grapes!”
Several hours later…
“Kumquats!”
“Figs!”
I’m pretty sure I won, but we diverge on that point. The really important thing is that when we had run out of fruit to name we realized that we had done something much more important than reviewing our fleshy seed-associated structures. We had invented The Game of Three Things. This is how the game works: two people face each other combatively, whilst a third party proposes a topic. Say, “Men’s names that begin with J.” The two competitors are then expected to begin listing men’s names that being with J until one of them succeeds in listing three such in a row without interruption by the opposition. If one competitor gets up to two names, let us say, and the other suddenly interjects, then the first competitor must start over to achieve his or her three.
The game tends to escalate quickly, one’s voice to raise, one’s body to rise.
For a while Ryan and I considered developing our game with cards and a board, and then selling it to Hasbro. Unfortunately he got too engrossed trying to become an engineer and I got interested in epistemology so we never got around to it. For that reason, I am releasing The Game of Three Things to the expectant world. You may use it, with attribution of course.
An alternative version of the game involves an interjection only penalizing the opposition by one word — so if you were at two words in Men’s names beginning with J for example, and I said, “Jeremy!” then you would be at one rather than at zero. This version requires an astute and attentive arbiter, however, or it gets out of hand rather quickly.