It is the summer of 1937, and the world is on fire. The Hindenburg has fallen. A king has abdicated for the woman he loves. The whales are being quietly rescued in Seville. And a very famous aviator is about to take off from New Guinea for the longest flight of her life.
Seven people share one dinner table, three courses, and a radio broadcasting from the corner. Some of them are murderers. Most of them are in love with someone they shouldn't be. All of them are lying about at least one thing.
| Player | Character | Role in-fiction |
|---|---|---|
| You | Thomas Woodroffe | BBC reporter with a whiskey habit |
| Guest | Emilia | Aviator, nearly killed in May, vanishes in July |
| Guest | Eddie | British Navy captain, in love with Bessie |
| Guest | Bessie | Socialite, in love with everyone |
| Guest | Spencer | American Navy captain, Bessie's ex-husband |
| Guest | George | Publisher, Emilia's something-or-other |
| Guest | Josephine | Circus acrobat who takes any gig |
Every character is based on a real figure from 1937. Part of the game is uncovering who. The host packet's answer key tells you everything; guests should find out on their own.
The game layers a fictional chain of murders onto a very real three months. Real-world events anchor the story; fictional beats thread through the gaps.
| Date | Event | Status |
|---|---|---|
| Mid-April 1937 | "Saucy Soiree" at Small's Paradise (Harlem) | Fictional, off-stage |
| May 4, 1937 | Eddie & Bessie privately engaged | Fictional |
| May 6, 1937 | Hindenburg disaster at Lakehurst, NJ | Real — 36 dead |
| ~Late May 1937 | Act 1 — Engagement party, London | Fictional |
| May 20, 1937 | Thomas Woodroffe's "fleet's lit up" broadcast | Real |
| May 27, 1937 | Golden Gate Bridge opens | Real |
| June 1, 1937 | Oldsmobile debuts automatic transmission | Real |
| June 3, 1937 | Eddie & Bessie married at Château de Candé | Real (Edward/Wallis) + Fictional |
| June 8, 1937 | Act 2 — International Agreement for the Regulation of Whaling, Seville | Real + Fictional staging |
| July 2, 1937 | Act 3 — Emilia's takeoff from Lae, New Guinea; disappears | Real (Earhart) |
The premise: a dead king-in-waiting and a famous aviator and a drunken Navy officer all find themselves in each other's orbit in the spring of 1937. Three public events give the party a rhythm — a disaster, a wedding, a takeoff — and Thomas the reporter is there for all three because that's what reporters do. Thomas also murders people between them, but who's counting.
A rowdy cabaret night at Small's Paradise in Harlem, hosted by Eddie and Bessie. Off-stage but referenced constantly:
Everyone has hazy memories of the Soiree. That haziness is load-bearing: it's the reason the truth has to be assembled rather than simply confessed.
Players tonight: 7 (you + 6 guests). Cast: Bessie, Eddie, Emilia, George, Josephine, Spencer. You play Thomas. End-of-act beats:
Hush-money ledger (this config):
You are the host. You are also Thomas Woodroffe — BBC reporter, habitually drunk, a little unprofessional. You will narrate three acts in an old-timey radio voice. You will sell clues for cash. And at the very end of the night it turns out you were in on one of the murders.
Read the answer key before the party. Read Thomas's narration before the party. The character files — you never need to read.
props.pdf). Cut out the telegrams and newspaper headers.Times are approximate. The whole thing fits in 2.5–3 hours.
| Time | Beat | Host action |
|---|---|---|
| 0:00 | Arrivals, cocktails | Real-name introductions |
| 0:20 | Thomas opens | Read Intro narration; Josephine (guest) is briefly interviewed about the Hindenburg |
| 0:28 | Open Intros | All guests open their Intro envelopes, read silently (5 min) |
| 0:33 | Act 1 opens — Appetizers served | Read Act 1 intro; George gives his scripted speech; guests open Act 1 envelopes |
| 0:38 | Free mingling | You sell clues from the "Thomas" chair; answer questions; wander |
| 1:00 | Spencer's slip | If he hasn't done it yet, nudge him to drop the *"I was just there…"* line |
| 1:05 | Settle Act 1 hush money | Collect Bessie's $5 for George; if guests resisted, narrate a mild shaming |
| 1:08 | Act 2 opens — Entrée served | Read Act 2 intro; Eddie + Bessie's speech; guests open Act 2 envelopes |
| 1:13 | Seated mingling | Bribes are now whispered down the table; you eat; you sell clues |
| 1:38 | The wrong bag | Cue Josephine to deliver the satchel to Eddie with the photograph |
| 1:45 | Settle Act 2 hush money | Josephine's donation quota; Spencer's hush-money target |
| 1:50 | Act 3 opens — Dessert served | Read Act 3 intro; Emilia gives her takeoff speech; guests open Act 3 envelopes |
| 2:00 | Free mingling resumes | Bribes at peak; detectives start to commit |
| 2:15 | Breaking news | Read the radio bulletin; Emilia puts on her sash and becomes the ghost |
| 2:20 | Ghost mingling | Emilia whispers to one player per round; the room turns to accusation |
| 2:35 | Close mingling | Collect sealed ghost accusation from Emilia |
| 2:38 | Conclusion | Collect ghost's sealed accusation; quick Star of the Show vote on ballots (optional) |
| 2:45 | Read the reveal | Walk through each character; pause for applause after each |
| 3:00 | Hand out capstones + titles | Socialite of 1937 (most cash), Detective of the Night (host's pick), Star of the Show (table vote) — then a one-line title for every guest |
Hindenburg-era, heavy on theatrics.
Keep water glasses full. Guests will forget if you don't refill them.
Make one ~2.5-hour playlist. Drop it in the background. Loud enough to hear, quiet enough to bribe over. Some good 1937 tracks:
For the radio broadcasts, cue an actual old-radio static effect over a Bluetooth speaker if you want to go the extra mile. YouTube has 10-hour loops of 1930s radio static.
You have two jobs: narrator and character. Both benefit from leaning in.
The more unreliable you seem, the more players will second-guess every clue they buy from you. It adds the delicious layer of "is he telling me the truth, or just taking my $5?" That's the whole point. Thomas's real-life namesake got himself relieved of a microphone mid-broadcast; honor that legacy.
When a detective is circling the wrong character, steer them with a cheap directional clue. Pre-written ones are in the answer key; feel free to improvise. Examples:
At the very end, when you reveal your own hand in Emilia's death, don't just read the line. Own it. A good template:
"George had the motive. But George doesn't know a fuel line from a hemline. George had a pen. I had a wrench."
Pause. Let the table boo. You earned it.
A detective is stuck and won't bribe you. Slide a $2 bill back to them across the table. "On the house. Look into who left Small's with lipstick."
Two detectives want the same clue. Sell it to both. They don't know you're double-dipping.
Spencer won't deliver his slip. His slip is the detectives' main handle on the Hindenburg plot — don't let it get skipped. Three levels of escalation:
Emilia (ghost) keeps spoiling things. Remind her publicly, in character, that ghosts whisper. Privately tell her the ghost rules are her whole act tonight — breaking them empties the big reveal moment when she opens her sealed accusation.
Act 2 has a "silent table" risk. Everyone's seated, eating, and the whispered-bribe vibe can peter into silence. Be a chaos agent:
The table is quiet (any act). Narrate. "Folks, I'm getting reports from the wire that someone at this table spent last night phoning New Guinea. Reporters want answers." Every head swivels; George sweats.
Nobody is solving the mystery. Near the end of Act 3, sell the biggest clues for free. "Detectives, at this late hour, one last scoop at no charge…" Err on the side of over-cluing rather than nobody guessing.
Someone correctly solves the whole mystery in Act 1. Congratulate them privately. Ask them to help everyone else without revealing what they know — and tell them they're the frontrunner for Detective of the Night as long as they don't dump the answer. Their enjoyment comes from watching the reveal with a quiet grin.
A guest didn't show up. Two viable drops — both are first-class configurations of this kit; see the 6-player variants in README.md:
./scripts/build.sh 6 --variant=A). George absorbs the Hindenburg plot. In this version, George wanted the martyr narrative started earlier — a dead Emilia on the Hindenburg is a good book; a dead Emilia on the final flight is a great book. He paid Josephine to plant the package. The Josephine extortion then flows to George across Acts 2 and 3. Spencer's end-of-Act-1 slip becomes Josephine's instead../scripts/build.sh 6 --variant=B). Spencer planted the bomb in person. The Act 2 "wrong bag" beat becomes Thomas handing Eddie the photograph under the guise of a "reporter's tip."The game has three layers stacked on top of each other:
There is no scorecard. No tally. The night ends with a narrative reveal, three capstone prizes, and a one-line title for every guest. See How the night ends, below.
Three acts match three courses.
Each act opens with Thomas's narration (the host reads aloud). Each act closes with a scripted end-of-act beat — a small spectacle that gives detectives something fresh to chew on.
Each guest starts with $20 play money: a mix of $1 and $5 bills. Thomas (host) holds a $30 bank.
Keep a ledger if you like; most hosts find the table self-polices because everyone is counting their own pile.
Each character has a signature phrase. It's a running joke and a callback — nothing is scored on it, but Thomas will quote every one of them during the reveal, so lean in hard.
Some of these phrases are common enough that they'll blow past listeners if said plainly. That's why each phrase comes with a delivery tic — a physical cue that marks the phrase as the catchphrase, not incidental dialogue. Players should lean into the tic; it's the kind of thing the table remembers for years.
| Character | Phrase | Delivery tic |
|---|---|---|
| Thomas | "the fleet's lit up" | Slurred, loud, as a sign-off |
| Bessie | "bygones be bygones" | While touching her pearls or smoothing a collar |
| Eddie | "for the sake of the whales" | Hand on his heart, entirely earnest |
| Emilia | "a mere [N] miles from home" | Wistful, eyes drifting skyward |
| George | "a story sells itself" | Smugly, tapping the tabletop once |
| Spencer | "habitual intemperance" | Raising his glass in a mock toast |
| Josephine | "a girl's got to make a living" | A half-shrug with a wry smirk |
Characters should drop their phrase at least once per act, with the tic. Thomas uses his during narration, drunkenly, at least once per act.
When Thomas announces Emilia's disappearance mid-Act 3, Emilia's player:
The point of the ghost is to keep the player in the game and to give Emilia a reason to apply everything she's learned. Emilia is allowed to be dramatic.
Act 1 — Spencer's slip. Late in the act, Spencer (drunk) publicly says: *"Rotten luck — I was just there…"* and trails off. Players will ask where. Spencer stalls. This is a scripted moment; Spencer's player is told to make it.
Act 2 — The wrong bag. Josephine, acting as the Windsors' chauffeur, brings Eddie a "mixed up" satchel that contains a photograph of Bessie leaving the honeymoon suite at dawn. Eddie sees it. Several other players see him see it. The photograph stays on the table.
Act 3 — The ghost appears. When Thomas reads the breaking-news bulletin, Emilia's player stands, dons the sash, and is now dead. She remains in the scene.
The Conclusion is a show, not a test. Thomas drives the whole thing from the head of the table; everyone else listens, applauds, and ribs each other. No scorecards, no tally, no math.
Thomas reads the reveal aloud, character by character — who they really were, what they really did, who they were really sleeping with. See conclusion/reveal.md.
After each character, pause. Let the table boo, gasp, accuse, roast. The applause (or the groan) is the point. If a detective called a beat correctly during the night, now is the moment to crow about it — Thomas can even hand the floor: "Who had this one? Stand up, brag."
At the end of the reveal, Thomas awards three prizes. Real prizes — a bottle of wine, a trinket, a pin, bragging rights in a group text. Pick what fits the room.
This is the night's secret best beat. Thomas goes around the table — every single guest — and gives each a one-line title to take home. Titles are extemporaneous, rhythmic, and affectionate (never cutting). Think:
Everyone goes home with one. See the answer key (host/04-answer-key.md) for a list of sample titles tuned to each character, plus guidance on improvising good ones.
Read aloud in the voice of a 1937 BBC radio announcer — clipped consonants, long vowels, unearned gravitas. When your script tells you to be drunk, slur a little. Your catchphrase is "the fleet's lit up." Deploy it at least once per act.
[Radio static. Stand. Clear your throat. Loud.]
Boom. Crash. Kapow. The sounds of mayhem were deafening to all those near and far. They're calling it the worst disaster in aviation history — the Titanic of the skies. What was to usher in a new era of trans-Atlantic flight has instead resulted in the death of three dozen people. I'm here at Lakehurst, New Jersey, with one of the survivors — Josephine, you were seen leaping from the airship just as the fire caught.
[Turn to Josephine. Interview.]
[Josephine improvises from her Intro script — dazed, confused, references a man in a uniform dragging her clear.]
Astounding. Absolutely astounding. Incredibly fortunate. Folks, it is a wonder anyone survived at all — a crash so spectacular it lit up the sky, and I wouldn't be surprised if more than the captain were lit up tonight. This has been Thomas Woodroffe, BBC Television Services. Please join us next week, where we will cover the engagement party of dear Eddie and darling Bessie — their first public presence since they and their guests were discovered outside of Small's Paradise Club & Lounge, using only hazy memories to escape explaining themselves.
[Pause. Drop the radio voice. Address the table as host.]
Tonight we'll be solving a mystery in three courses. Appetizer, entrée, dessert. For the appetizer round, you'll mingle freely — learn each other's secrets, sell your own, and find the quiet corners where no one is listening. If something on your sheet is ambiguous, there might be someone else holding the other half of the puzzle. For the dinner round we sit together. Watch what you share. For dessert, you're free again — and this is when you make your accusations. Whoever wants to solve the mystery, go ahead and try. Please open your Intro envelopes. Read in silence. We'll return from this commercial break in five minutes.
[Cue music. 5 minutes pass. Cut music.]
[Radio voice.]
Folks, we're tuning in now, live from London. It is the formal engagement party of the Duke of — well, of our dear friend Eddie, and his beloved Bessie. Rumors have been flying for weeks. George Putnam — the publisher, mind you, and our dear friend — has taken the podium. They say he knew about the relationship; rumor has it he wasn't totally approving, so this one's sure to be a doozy. Take it away, George.
[George reads his speech from Act 1 — Bessie and Eddie toast — champagne flutes up.]
[Radio voice, after the speech.]
Well, folks, there you have it. Cheers to the happy couple. For the next half-hour, our broadcast will be visiting the party guests and hearing their experiences with Eddie and Bessie — and whatever else came out of that wild night at Small's Paradise. As for what to do next: try using your cash to bribe information, or be open to being bribed. The guest with the most money at the end of each round receives a prize. If you are lost, don't hesitate to spend some of that money on me — I'll fill you in at bargain rates.
[Cue music. Mingling begins. ~30 minutes.]
Late in the act, pull Spencer aside or loudly ask him publicly:
Spencer, old boy — you've been quiet all evening. What do you make of this tragedy with the airship?
Spencer responds from his script: *"Rotten luck — I was just there…"* and stops. The room goes quiet. You narrate:
Spencer — what were you saying? Just there? Where, exactly?
If Spencer won't deliver the slip, prompt him in character with the backup question:
Spencer, you're looking a bit singed, old chap — was the New Jersey sun particularly harsh this May?
If he still deflects, narrate past him: "Folks, our American Navy captain has gone rather quiet. Reporters note his eyebrows appear… slightly abbreviated."
Spencer stalls. You let the moment hang, then cut to narration.
Well. Files in the wire, at least. Folks — we're approaching our entrée. Please settle your Act 1 accounts. Those with debts, pay up. Those owed — make sure you get what's yours. Commercial break.
[Collect Bessie's $5 hush money to George. If it hasn't happened, publicly narrate that George "has been seen scribbling in a notebook" — a warning. Cue music. Act 2 begins with the next course.]
[Radio voice.]
Folks, welcome to this historic announcement. Live from Seville. Nine nations have come to an agreement that will curtail the whaling industry to a degree not previously heard of anywhere across the seven seas. Blue, Fin, Humpback, and Sperm whales will all be protected — mothers and calves must be left alone, and only once reaching a maturity of size will any sailor be permitted to receive compensation. No longer will the oceans be harvested for raw tonnage. We can only hope it is enough to revive the whale population that has dwindled in recent years. Please open your Act 2 envelopes. Eddie and his newlywed wife Bess — who you'll remember we broadcast from their engagement party just weeks ago — have been seen as the grease behind the wheels that steered these governments to stop playing harpoon and to start playing ball. Let's hear what they have to say.
[Eddie and Bessie deliver their speech from Act 2 — lovesick, a little gross, five days married, Eddie fussy with agitation, Bess smoldering at being on stage during her honeymoon.]
[Radio voice.]
Thank you, friends. Stay tuned for more coverage of the Whaling Agreement, live from Hotel Alfonso. Reporters, if you have questions — and you should — I will be at the bar. I always am. The fleet, I might add, is lit up.
[Music. Seated mingling for ~30 min.]
About 25 minutes in, cue Josephine to approach Eddie with a satchel.
Josephine: "Eddie — dear, sorry, got our bags mixed up this morning, here's yours…"
Josephine hands over the satchel. Eddie opens it. Tucked inside, visibly, is a black-and-white photograph of Bessie in a dressing gown, leaving a hotel room door at dawn. Eddie reads the implication. Several other players see him read it. The photograph stays on the table, face up.
[Radio voice, after a beat.]
Well. I believe our entrée is concluded. Detectives — please settle your Act 2 ledgers. Those with hush money to pay, pay. Those collecting, collect. We return after a short commercial break. Dessert will be served.
[Collect Spencer's hush-money obligation (Josephine should end with +$15). Collect Josephine's donation quota ($10 to Eddie or Emilia). Public shaming if unmet.]
[Radio voice.]
Folks, thanks for tuning in to BBC Television News. We are live from Lae, New Guinea, at the departure of America's aviation sweetheart as she attempts to circumnavigate the globe using only her aeroplane. She began her trip from Oakland, California, putting the brand-new Golden Gate Bridge in her rearview mirror, and now a month later she hopes to set her sights on it once again. She has crossed the globe — from New Orleans to Miami, from Brazil to Senegal, to the far-away lands of British India and the Dutch Indies — landing, oh, just now, here in New Guinea. Spectators far and wide have come to wish her well as she embarks on the great Pacific with one final stop in Honolulu before landing in the beautiful San Francisco Bay.
[Turn to Spencer.]
You there, good sir. What has brought you all the way to New Guinea to see Emilia off?
[Spencer reads from his Act 3 script — briefly, excitedly.]
Fascinating, dear chap, fascinating. But I should probably cut you off there. Splendid timing for you, to be down in New Guinea — and I'll say, this audience is certainly lit up with the excitement of what's to come. Dear boy, how about you and I grab us a drink as we turn to hear from the illustrious lady herself.
[Emilia takes the microphone. Reads her bravado speech from Act 3.]
Please open your Act 3 envelopes.
[Music. Free mingling. ~15 minutes.]
At ~15 minutes into mingling, cut the music. Radio static.
[Radio voice. Slightly slurred. You've had a drink.]
Folks — I'm getting reports now, and I can hardly believe them. We are receiving reports that no one has been in radio contact with Emilia for the last sixty hours. Authorities are fearing the worst. Shortly before crossing the International Dateline, somewhere near Howland Island, last contact was made — and at the time she was still reporting on her planned course. Search and Rescue teams are being assembled. No sightings of any aircraft. No word from Emilia, or her navigator. Detectives — we are beginning to produce suspects. Emilia — dear — it appears you've … passed. Fortunately, in our mystery, we permit a certain poetic liberty. Please put on your sash.
[Emilia's player stands, dons the white sash, becomes the ghost. Remains in scene.]
Detectives, please prepare your reports. You have fifteen minutes to finalize your conclusions. Use them well. Use them loudly.
[Mingling resumes. Ghost whispers begin. ~15 minutes.]
[Cut music. Radio voice, solemn.]
Folks — we are now receiving reports from detectives in the field. The time has come. Last chance to cast your Star of the Show vote — slip it to me, or shout it out when I call for applause.
[Collect ballots if you're using them, and collect the ghost's sealed accusation. Pause. Take a breath. The reveal is the next document — conclusion/reveal.md — read it aloud.]
Read aloud by Thomas. Pause after each character — and this matters: the pause is the point. Let the table boo, gasp, accuse, applaud, and roast each other. No scorecards, no tally, no math. If someone called a beat correctly during the night, Thomas hands them the floor to brag: "Who had this one? Stand up." The applause is how we score; we just don't write it down.
[Radio voice, but warmer — the show is winding down.]
Folks, this has been BBC Television News, live from a dinner party where nothing was what it seemed. Before we sign off, we have a duty to the truth. Let us examine our suspects, one by one.
Some of you will have recognized her. Joseph Spah — a German-American acrobat who survived the Hindenburg by smashing a window and leaping twenty feet to the ground. His dog Ulla died in the cargo hold. He was, in real life, investigated as a suspect for causing the explosion. He was innocent. Our Josephine is not entirely. She did plant a package in Emilia's luggage — but she thought she was smuggling, not bombing. She took the job because a girl's got to make a living. She spent the rest of our story extorting first Spencer, then Bessie, to pay for the secret. And still, she mourned Ulla.
Wallis Simpson — the Duchess of Windsor. In real life, born Bessie Wallis Warfield. Divorced Spencer for his cruelty and "habitual intemperance" in 1927. Married a king who abdicated his throne for her. She is every tabloid of 1937 in one woman. Our Bessie is in love with Eddie, more or less. She is also in love with Josephine. She paid hush money to both Josephine and George. She is also the only person at this table who did not commit or contract a crime — unless you count fidelity, and you know what, we don't.
Edward VIII, the Duke of Windsor. Abdicated the British throne in December 1936 rather than give up Wallis. Married her at Château de Candé in France on June 3, 1937. Real navy captain (Lieutenant, technically, but we've stretched). Spent the rest of his life fretting about his reduced station. Our Eddie spent this night fussing over whales and missing important things happening in his own marriage. He was, genuinely, not a suspect. He simply doesn't know how to look at what he doesn't want to see.
Earl Winfield Spencer Jr. — Wallis's first husband. US Navy pilot. Pioneering naval aviator. Publicly blamed for their divorce. A drunk. His third wife would later use the phrase "habitual intemperance" in divorce court, which the New York Times repeated, and which was read in every salon from Baltimore to London. Our Spencer, drunk at Small's Paradise, saw lipstick on his ex-wife's neck, overheard her whispering with Emilia, and — in a paranoid spiral about his own career — hired Josephine to plant a bomb in Emilia's luggage aboard the Hindenburg. He was wrong. Emilia never touched Bessie. It was Josephine. Spencer pulled Josephine from the wreckage himself. Guilt, or pragmatism, or both.
George Palmer Putnam. Amelia Earhart's publisher, promoter, and second husband. Shaped her public image. Was by some accounts a loving partner and by others a controlling one. Made a lot of money off her fame. Our George paid Thomas — me, your narrator — to tamper with Emilia's plane. He drained the fuel. He rigged the gauge. A martyr sells ten times what a hero sells, and George had already signed the book deal. He thought Emilia had left him for Eddie, which she had not.
Amelia Earhart. First woman to fly solo across the Atlantic. Vanished on July 2, 1937, over the Pacific, near Howland Island. Her body was never found. Our Emilia had a tryst with George at Small's Paradise, survived a bomb intended to kill her at the Hindenburg, and was genuinely dedicating her last flight to Eddie out of respect for the whales. She would never know who killed her. Unless, of course, her ghost guessed correctly — and we'll see about that in a moment.
And your humble narrator. Thomas Woodroffe, BBC radio announcer, famous for drunkenly slurring "the fleet's lit up" on live air during a 1937 review of the Royal Navy at Spithead. A real man; a very embarrassing broadcast. Our Thomas took George's money and sabotaged Emilia's plane. Your host is a murderer. You paid him for clues. This has been an instructive evening.
[Pause. Let it land. Then the mic drop:]
George had the motive. But George doesn't know a fuel line from a hemline. George had a pen. I had a wrench.
[To Emilia.]
Emilia — the sealed envelope, if you please.
[Open it. Read aloud whom she named.]
Ladies and gentlemen — our ghost was [right / wrong].
[Let the applause, or the groan, fill the room. No points. Just the moment.]
[Radio voice, warming into showman.]
Three prizes tonight, detectives. Three ways to have won the evening.
First — the Socialite of 1937. The guest who played the cash game hardest, the one who ended the night with the fattest stack. Please, everyone — empty your pockets onto the table.
[Everyone puts their cash out. Count it in front of the room. Name the winner. Award the prize — a bottle, a trinket, something real.]
To [name] — for making a living. A girl, or a gentleman, has to.
Second — Detective of the Night. A judgment call, and mine. I watched all of you. I watched who asked the right questions, who named a real motive, who didn't coast on the mingling and didn't dump the answer out loud before the rest of the table could think.
[Name the guest. If it's close, call a tie — award two.]
To [name] — for seeing through the smoke.
Third — and this one, the table decides. Star of the Show. Most committed performance of the night. The accent, the costume, the refusal to break character. I'll name each of you; the table claps; loudest clap wins.
[Name each guest in turn. Table applauds. Call it.]
To [name] — for becoming someone else, on purpose, in front of witnesses.
[Radio voice drops. Address the table as host.]
And now, the most important award of the evening. Every single one of you goes home tonight with a title. One line. Take it with you. Put it on your LinkedIn. Don't put it on your LinkedIn.
[Go around the table — every guest, the ghost included. Each title is one line, rhythmic, affectionate, and specific to something they actually did tonight. Extemporaneous is fine. Do not read these off a sheet. See host/04-answer-key.md for samples and the rules of thumb.]
[Examples for inspiration, not recitation:]
That does it for BBC Television News, reporting from a dinner table in the year of our Lord 1937. Good night. Good luck. And may your own next dinner party have fewer bombs, fewer fraudulent fuel gauges, and — I beg of you — fewer reporters.
[Cut music. Bow.]
This is the full solution. Read it before the game. Reread it halfway through. The host is the only person at the table who knows everything, and your job is to keep the threads visible without tangling them.
| In-game | Real figure | Hook |
|---|---|---|
| Thomas Woodroffe | Thomas Woodroffe | BBC announcer; real 1937 Spithead broadcast, "fleet's lit up" |
| Emilia | Amelia Earhart | Disappeared July 2, 1937 en route Lae → Howland |
| Eddie | Edward VIII, Duke of Windsor | Abdicated Dec 1936 to marry Wallis; married at Château de Candé June 3, 1937 |
| Bessie | Wallis Simpson (née Bessie Wallis Warfield) | Divorced Spencer; "Bessie" is her real given name |
| Spencer | Earl Winfield Spencer Jr. | Wallis's first husband; US Navy; alcoholic; NYT used "habitual intemperance" |
| George | George Palmer Putnam | Publisher, Earhart's husband, shaped her public image |
| Josephine | Joseph Spah | Hindenburg survivor; German-American acrobat; his dog Ulla died in the cargo hold. We gender-flip this character. |
These are the real-life figures behind each character. The more the table surfaces during the night, the juicier the reveal.
Spencer's motive: Career-panic + misdirected jealousy. He is Bessie's ex-husband, drunk, and one promotion short of Commander. At Small's Paradise he saw lipstick on Bessie's neck, overheard Bessie whispering with Emilia, and concluded Emilia was Bessie's lover. His fear: if Bessie becomes Duchess and her affairs surface, his own divorce — publicly blamed on "habitual intemperance" — returns to the papers and he'll never make Commander. Killing Emilia silences the witness and keeps Bessie quiet.
Spencer is wrong about Emilia. The woman Bessie actually hooked up with was Josephine. That misreading is a reveal beat — Spencer was so drunk he hired the actual affair partner to murder a woman who'd done nothing.
Josephine's complicity: Unwitting. She thought Spencer hired her to plant smuggled goods. She took the $500 because a girl's got to make a living. After the crash she realized she'd been duped, couldn't go to the police without confessing, and began extorting Spencer for hush money. When Spencer goes broke in Act 3, she switches to extorting Bessie instead — using evidence of the Saucy Soiree affair.
Spencer saved Josephine. He was nearby, confirming his handiwork. When Josephine landed alive, he dragged her clear of the wreckage. Mixed motive: residual guilt plus a pragmatic recognition that a living witness you control is better than a dead one you don't.
George's motive: Envy + profit. George introduced Emilia to flight fame and is now being eclipsed — she dedicates her round-the-world flight to Eddie in Act 3, which George (wrongly) reads as romantic. He'd already signed a book deal on Amelia's Triumph and knows a martyr outsells a hero ten times over.
Thomas's motive: Straight cash.
The mechanics of both crimes — worth surfacing during the reveal so the table can react:
Detectives who flagged any of the mechanical beats during the night earn a callout — "stand up, brag."
Act 1 (per clue: $2 directional, $5 specific):
Act 2:
Act 3:
Thomas may improvise clues if a detective asks a reasonable question, but should never volunteer the instigators (Spencer, George) for free.
| Act | Obligation | Who pays | Who receives |
|---|---|---|---|
| Act 1 | Bessie owes George $5 (he saw her at the Soiree) | Bessie | George |
| Act 2 | Spencer needs Josephine to end the act with $15 more than she started | Other guests | Josephine |
| Act 2 | Josephine is tasked with getting guests to donate ≥$10 to Eddie or Emilia | N/A | Eddie or Emilia |
| Act 3 | Bessie owes Josephine $5 (silence for the Soiree affair) | Bessie | Josephine |
| Act 3 | George needs Thomas paid $15 to act, $35 to keep silent — traceable money is dangerous | Other guests | Thomas |
Thomas settles these at each end-of-act.
The capstones and titles are what your guests will remember. Prep is small; the payoff is big.
Pick three real objects ahead of time. They don't have to be expensive — a bottle of wine, a souvenir from a trip, a silly pin, an old book, a jar of something homemade, a framed playbill. The object being real is what makes the moment real.
You've been watching all night. Pick the guest who:
If it's close, call a tie and award two prizes. If no one stood out, award it to whoever had the most fun trying — we care about participation over accuracy.
Everyone empties their pockets onto the table. Whoever has the most bills wins. Do this in front of the room — part of the fun is the accounting.
If there's a tie, split the prize or give them each a small one.
A thirty-second applause-meter — Thomas names each player, the table claps, loudest applause wins. Or: slips of paper, one name each, fold, count. Either works.
This is almost always awarded to whoever was most committed to their accent, their costume, their posture, their refusal-to-break-character. Voice the criterion out loud: "who was the most themselves, tonight?"
This is the grand finale. Thomas goes around the table — all seven, the ghost included — and names each player with a one-line title they'll carry home. Rules:
Sample titles, one per character archetype (use as inspiration; don't just read these off):
| Character | Sample title | Why |
|---|---|---|
| Thomas | "The Voice of the Fleet, Lit Up." | His catchphrase, his confession. |
| Bessie | "The Woman Who Let Bygones Be Bygones — With Everyone." | Plays on her phrase and her appetites. |
| Eddie | "The Only Honest Man at the Table (and It Didn't Help Him)." | His innocence is his whole bit. |
| Emilia | "The Ghost Who Guessed Right" (or "Guessed Wrong"). | Callback to the sealed accusation. |
| Spencer | "The Navy Captain Who Saved the Wrong Woman." | Lands the reveal's irony. |
| George | "The Publisher Who Finally Got His Martyr." | Names his motive in one line. |
| Josephine | "The Acrobat Who Made a Living." | Her catchphrase; leaves her sympathetic. |
If you host this party more than once, start collecting titles. They get better every time.
Cut each along the dashed line. Fold. Hand to the appropriate character at the appropriate time. The host's copy of this document tells you when.
Host: Not all telegrams are "in the clear." Some are meant to be left on the table where a curious detective can read them.
Handed to Eddie by the host after the Hindenburg broadcast. Eddie reads aloud if he wishes.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT MAY 6 1937
TO: CAPT E. WINDSOR, LONDON
FROM: HOSPITAL LAKEHURST NEW JERSEY
EMILIA SURVIVED STOP
INJURIES NON LIFE THREATENING STOP
BURNS AND SMOKE INHALATION STOP
WILL CABLE FURTHER ONCE STABLE STOP
--- ---
Quietly handed to George. He reads in private, pockets it.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT CONFIDENTIAL MAY 7 1937
TO: G PUTNAM NEW YORK
FROM: REUTERS FIELD OFFICE LAKEHURST
REGARDING PAX MANIFEST STOP
PRIVILEGED LUGGAGE BAY SUSPECTED ORIGIN STOP
INVESTIGATORS REQUESTING DETAILED INTERVIEWS
WITH ALL SURVIVORS STOP
RECOMMEND EMILIA DECLINE PRESS ACCESS
UNTIL LEGAL COUNSEL STOP
--- ---
Handed to Josephine by Thomas. No return address. The photograph prop is in the same envelope — or, alternatively, delivered separately but same beat.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
NO ORIGIN JUNE 8 1937
TO: J SPAH HOTEL ALFONSO SEVILLE
FROM: UNKNOWN
BESSIE LEFT HER SUITE AT DAWN STOP
CAMERA CAUGHT IT STOP
PHOTOGRAPH ENCLOSED STOP
USE HOW YOU WILL STOP
--- ---
Handed to Bessie. She reads silently; expression tells the tale.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT JULY 2 1937
TO: B W WARFIELD LAE NEW GUINEA
FROM: HOTEL ALFONSO SEVILLE
MAID FOUND SECOND COPY OF PHOTOGRAPH STOP
IN YOUR VANITY DRAWER STOP
DO YOU WISH IT FORWARDED STOP
--- ---
Thomas reads aloud.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT ALL STATIONS JULY 4 1937
FROM: U S COAST GUARD CUTTER ITASCA HOWLAND
LAST VOICE CONTACT 0843 HRS STOP
AIRCRAFT REPORTED FUEL LOW STOP
ESTIMATED POSITION ON HEADING STOP
PAST 60 HOURS RADIO SILENT STOP
WIDE SEARCH COMMENCING STOP
PROBABILITY SURVIVAL DECREASING STOP
--- ---
Thomas may reveal this telegram for $5 during Act 3 to any detective.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
INTERCEPTED JULY 1 1937
TO: T WOODROFFE BBC NEW GUINEA
FROM: G PUTNAM NEW YORK
SECOND PAYMENT ON ARRIVAL STOP
REMINDER ABOUT FUEL STOP
THIRTY FIVE ADDITIONAL FOR DISCRETION STOP
--- ---
Print on slightly yellowed paper if you have any. Otherwise print on white and age the edges with a tea bag. Fold in thirds. Insert into small envelopes marked "TELEGRAM" if you have them.
Cut out. Tape to the host's radio station, or fold and leave on the dinner table.
ZEPPELIN DISASTER AT LAKEHURST 36 Dead. Survivors Recount "A Sea of Fire."
LAKEHURST, N.J. — The German airship Hindenburg, inbound from Frankfurt, was destroyed in a catastrophic fire while mooring last evening. Of the 97 aboard, 36 are reported dead. Survivors described a sudden rupture at the stern, followed within thirty seconds by a "sea of fire" that consumed the ship.
Among the survivors is the American acrobat Miss J. Spah, who reportedly smashed a porthole with a camera and leapt to the ground. "It was the landing of her career," said an eyewitness.
Notably, Miss Amelia Earhart — referred to in some passenger manifests as simply "E." — has also been confirmed among survivors, sustaining only minor injuries. Her husband, the publisher George P. Putnam, was reached for comment at his office in New York.
The cause of the fire remains under investigation.
"THE FLEET'S LIT UP" — REPORTER RELIEVED OF MICROPHONE
SPITHEAD — BBC radio announcer Thomas Woodroffe, broadcasting the Royal Navy's Coronation Fleet Review, was relieved of his microphone mid-broadcast last evening after an appraisal of his condition. Woodroffe, invited to describe the illuminated ships from the deck of the HMS Victory, was heard repeating the phrase "the fleet's lit up" at irregular intervals.
The BBC declined to comment on Mr. Woodroffe's state. Mr. Woodroffe was not available for interview.
WINDSORS WED AT CHÂTEAU DE CANDÉ
TOURS — The former King Edward VIII, now styled the Duke of Windsor, married Mrs. Wallis Simpson at Château de Candé yesterday afternoon. The ceremony was attended by fewer than twenty guests. No member of the British Royal Family was present.
The Duke is reported to be in good spirits. His Duchess declined to answer questions about her previous marriages.
NINE NATIONS AGREE TO PROTECT WHALES
SEVILLA — The International Agreement for the Regulation of Whaling, signed yesterday, commits nine nations to limits on the harvest of Blue, Fin, Humpback, and Sperm whales. Mothers and calves are to be protected. A minimum size limit is established. The agreement comes after years of lobbying from the British Admiralty, notably from the recently-retired Capt. E. Windsor, who was in attendance.
Conservationists have praised the agreement as "the most consequential marine treaty of our generation."
EARHART MISSING AT SEA Radio Silent 60 Hours. Widest Air-Sea Search in History.
OAKLAND — Amelia Earhart and her navigator are missing somewhere over the Pacific, authorities confirmed today. Last voice contact was made at 08:43 near Howland Island. Coast Guard cutters, Navy aircraft, and civilian volunteers have mounted what is said to be the widest air-sea search in history.
Asked for comment, her husband, publisher George P. Putnam, said: "A story sells itself. Pray for her return."
Print all five side-by-side, or one per page. Age with tea. Crumple, then flatten. Place around the host's seat for maximum old-timey-radio effect.