Fear and Loathing at the Gender Wars

Two nights of Fear and Loathing in a row? Could this be right?

Well yes, yes it could.

Last Saturday I was introduced to the game of Cranium. A fun and clever board game designed for parties and other such activities, I had been hearing about this for around eight months and was very eager to play.

For many months now, a datemate had been talking of playing a Battle of the Sexes, boys against the girls, with Cranium as the means of warfare.

This sounded like a lot of fun. It had all the makings of being another entertaining night and - as everyone knows - I fancy the shit out of one of her friends.

It was at this point that the girls made their fatal mistake.

In a casual conversation about the game, the girls informed us that they expected to win because "girls are more creative than boys." Naturally, we were incensed. Also, the girls had no real idea about how competitive we could be, and it was about the right time we showed them.

Talk and back-talk continued for several months while we tried to organise a suitable weekend. It finally arrived last Saturday. Tired from football, flush from another swim and sauna, I jumped on a bus to Ashbourne, our designated Colliseum for the evening.

My legs still ached from the searing heat and running during the game, but I spurned several lift offers out to the house. I wanted some time to think, I had my iPod, and I wanted the five minute walk for the sake of my libs.

Walking into the estate, the girls drove past me in the car, so I immediately donned my Poker Face as I walked nonchalantly toward the lads who had gathered at the house wall. Nodding politely at the Enemy, I noticed the Girl had a pair of sunglasses on. She looked amazing. I decided the best way of preserving any semblance of dignity was to just keep staring ahead at the lads.

The lads cast some casual insults that I could not hear, so I seized upon them like a life-ring, taking umbrage with gleeful aplomb. Anything to stop my slack-jawed staring.

Inside, our hosts had done a job. The spread on the table was a sight to behold. I was almost ashamed to disrupt the elegant symmetry of the table by taking a cheese and grape toothpick appetiser.

Slowly, everyone gathered inside. The Girl was there, and I casually conversed. Despite knowing this girl for almost two years now, we only see each other sporadically, and I always feel stupid talking to her, no matter how confident I appear. There is always that desperate attempt to say the funny line, or utter the interesting point, or appear to be very clever. No matter how brutally I suppress him, the tongue-tieing teenage terrorist always finds a way to wreak his havoc, with very little in the way of prior warning.

What makes the whole experience so perplexing is that the Girl has a fantastically warm and open personality. Once I manage to start a conversation, I can never understand why I get so nervous initially. I resolve to never be so stupid in the future, only to revert to type every next time.

The plan for the evening was very straightforward. We were ordering food, eating, then playing Cranium. I accompanied the Lawyer to the curry house, under strict instructions to inform everyone afterwards about the quality of his driving.

My first hit came while serving the food.

While doling out the Indian, I noticed a very small and light tray. The cardboard top was unmarked. My curiosity piqued, I opened it, to find some chopped lettuce and peppers in it. Wearing what I can only assume was a bewildered expression, I spun around from the worktop, held up the tray, displayed its contents to the entire room and asked, very pointedly, "okay, so who ordered the salad?"

Now, it was not my intention to be funny, but I would be lying if I said the Girls explosion of laughter upset me.

"Go Mick! You made her laugh and you weren't even trying! You Legend!"

I slowly turned back to the worktop, and continued with my labours.

For those of you wondering, I ordered a Chicken Madras with a Chapati and a Naan bread. Delicious. It was totally worth the ribbing I got for all the sweating it caused. I could not keep my forehead dry for thirty minutes after the meal.

As game-time approached, the nerves began to creep in. It should surprise nobody that I had laid a lot on the line for this game. Unable to resist the temptation, a lot of trash-talk was in circulation, and we needed to win. SERIOUS gloating rights were at stake here.

My nerves were not helped by my friends. Trying to sit at the head of the table, I was continuously moved until I found myself seated next to the Girl.

"NO!!! But also... YEAH!!!"

For those of you unaware of the game Cranium, it is a party game which combines elements of games like Pictionary, Trivial Pursuit, Charades, etc. The idea is to move your piece around the board. Each square has a colour corresponding to an activity such as Trivia (simply answering a question), spelling words, solving anagrams, imitating a famous celebrity without using names, indicating a word using modelling clay or drawing pictures, and so on.

Some questions are denoted "Club Cranium," allowing all teams to participate, the first team to guess correctly gaining the benefit. Unlike a lot of other games, guessing correctly does not allow you to go again. It is a lot of fun, and I highly recommend it for parties etc.

"Okay Mick, all you have to do is be cool, do your thing at the table, win the game, and don't be too much of an ass. It is good that you are right beside her. You are naturally quite impressive, you are pretty sure she still likes you, just be yourself. Make some funny comments about how the girls are gonna lose. You'll be fine. She'll thinking the sweating is cos of the curry. Keep telling her that there's no pressure. You'll make her laugh naturally. You did it ten minutes ago and you weren't even trying!"

I had finally convinced myself into my happy place of calm when disaster struck. The modelling clay needed to be warmed up for the game. I volunteered. I like its squidgy texture as I knead it on my palm. Reaching over to take a piece, the Chameleon said loudly "That's right Mick, you are perfect for the job, you having such strong wrists!"

Bastard.

I was fortunate that only one person really heard.

I was unfortunate that the one person was the Girl.

A burst of laughter exploded directly behind my back. I decided the best thing to do was ignore it, taking solace from the fact that I love to laugh at the embarrassment of people I really like.

What should have been a Strike could be interpreted as a Hit, so I decided against wreaking bloody vengeance upon the Chameleon.

Natually, the lads built up a commanding early lead. My fears had proved groundless. As I suspected, we were very good at Cranium. I proved to have a talent for imitation, going 5-0 in all my activities that night.

My first call up was a Club Cranium. The person was John Cleese and I immediately stepped into the funny walk. We got it in less than a half-second. The Girl protested, claiming she guessed it at the same time. This should have proved to be a dilemma for me. It did not. Casually dismissing her weak protests as groundless, we claimed the victory.

Looking back, while she did guess it early, my team guessed as I was bringing up my knee for the first step. Still, we probably should have given her more of a chance to say her piece.

Through some very lucky rolling by the girls and poor play and rolling by us, the girls drew level three-quarters of the way around the board. It was game on. Still very confident, we were forced to move into the front room as it was after 2300 at night and our noise had disturbed the neighbours.

Disappointed I was no longer beside the Girl, my finest moment came almost immediately. On a Club Cranium impersonation, we drew Meg Ryan. As soon as time started, I rushed to a seat, closed my eyes, looked upwards and started screaming "YES! YES! YES!" The lads guessed it after about two and a half seconds.

That was the moment when the girls knew they had lost.

They had just watched a grown man fake a fake female orgasm in the pursuit of victory, and this bizarre event had brought about a victory in two seconds.

Two other moments stood out. The Big JL had to act out the "tooth fairy." His act was priceless. With a level of contempt Jack Dee would kill for, he pointed at his tooth and flapped his arms. We did not get it at the first attempt.

Giving us a look which I can only describe as pure scorn, he angrily pointed at his tooth again, allowing us to guess "tooth", and then forcibly flapped his hands. There was no relief or delight when we guessed it this time, merely an exasperated sigh as he sat back down.

The second moment came as I tried to impersonate a taxidermist. I made a stuffing motion, went down on my knees to impersonate a dog. Unsurprisingly, the lads were none the wiser.

I needed to show them it was all sorts of animals. For some stupid reason, my mind thought "cow", my lips went "MOO!" and the Chameleon went "Taxidermist!"

How he got it, I will never know. In fact, thinking about it, it is quite disturbing. Leaving aside the obvious disconnect of "MOO!" and "Taxidermist" for a moment, hands up who has ever seen a stuffed cow on display?

At the finish, you need to do each of the four categories correctly, finishing with a challenge chosen by the opposition to win. We did this with minimum fuss, and happily won ourselves a free dinner at the girl's expense.

Suddenly, the lads wanted to go home. I looked at them like they were insane. Did they honestly expect me to leave the Girl? Did they not see how amazing she looked? Did they have a heart behind those rib-cages of theirs? Were they doing this just to annoy me?

I resolved to let the lightweights go home to their beds. I was staying on. I was gonna talk to the girls. More importantly, I was gonna gloat like hell. Serious gloating rights were in my possession, and it was very much my intention to exploit this.

Suddenly the Lawyer told me he had to get up early to go to the office, so there was no point in staying on. I may as well leave with the lads. Totally deflated, I resigned to leave with the others.

I mournfully bade my farewells, telling the girls "It was very nice to beat you."

You see what I did there, yeah?

I subsequently learned that the girls were very disappointed in the manner with which we left. They were expecting a full-on night out, and had brought the ingredients for cocktails. Getting very drunk was very much on the agenda. It also seems that I was the only guy to actually say "Goodbye".

Their plan for vengeance is impressive. They are gonna go to dinner with us, pay for our starters, and make like a jersey-wearing Celtic fan blundering into Rangers Supporters Association Christmas party.

Despite still being a sore point for me, I found that idea class.

The dinner should be a lot of fun. Any sorry bastard that even mentions home before 0300 in the morning is gonna get their mobile phone number posted to fifty "Accomodation to Let" ads on the Daft.ie website. Consider this a warning.

On a plus note, I also learned that the girls were extremely impressed with our ability to play the game. Some were quite put out at the time

But what about the Girl, Mick, what about the Girl?

Well, my intelligence network is somewhat shady on this one. All the old complications are still there of course, but a new one appeared this week. It seems in a conversation with a fourth party, I was referred to as "the friend who used to like me, but doesn't anymore."

Yes folks, it is true. All women are crazy.