Last night, while we were playing Scotland Yard, the lights went out.
The storm, raging outside, had caused a power outage.
I realize that normal people would probably just abandon the game and have sex*, but MR. X HAD JUST BEEN SIGHTED NEAR TOWER BRIDGE AND WE ARE HUGE NERDS SO PLAY ON, PLAYAS!
After locating one woefully weak-beamed flashlight, My Fella suddenly remembered the candles I’d made last summer out of the beeswax we harvested. A brief scavenger hunt yielded the necessary supplies.
Holes were drilled, wicks were inserted — sorry, folks, regardless of what I said earlier, there is no way for this not to sound dirty — matches were struck, and…fiat lux.
And now we’ve got a stash of emergency candles, for all our blackout-in-the-middle-of-game-night situations. Which almost makes up for the fact that Mr. X escaped. Almost.