“What’s ‘Oven Exam’?” said Tom.
This question came after the awkward silence that had befallen the room after Tom’s weird cousin Morris had said “Ever play Oven Exam?”
Morris – who insisted everyone address him by the nickname “Nardstar” – had arrived uninvited and unannounced, but since Tom was renting this cottage from his uncle; aka Morris/Nards’ dad, he really couldn’t ask him to leave.
“Y’never heard of Oven Exam?” said Nardstar, flipping a bottle cap off Tom’s head. “You get into the oven and your opponent puts it on broil. You stay in as long as possible. You get out, you lose. Whoever stays in longest dies, but they win, but the loser eats the winner. So the loser’s the winner!” laughed Nards.
“I’m sorry I asked,” said Tom, trying to laugh, as his wife rolled her eyes and went off to bed.
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“We’re going to bed,” said the last couple still enduring an evening of stupendous Nardstar-brand assholery. “Me, too,” said Tom, and headed off towards his own room. “Yeah, sure… g’night,” said Nardstar, now all alone.
He checked his watched. He felt sad no-one liked him; almost sad enough to feel guilty about having just roofied everyone. But he knew he’d feel better in about an hour, when he went room to room for a game of “Ghost Lollipop”.
