Originally posted June 17, 2024. Somehow it had never occurred to me, in the hundreds—maybe thousands—of hours I’d spent bingeing stories just like this, that every whodunit really involved a double murder: of the victim, but also of some intangible but deeply vital part of the killer’s own humanity. Ah, murder mystery games. So much more fun in theory than they are in practice. I won’t deny daydreaming about blowing $1000 to deduct in costume at an isolated ski lodge, even though my experiences with the budget version range from the group coming up with an elaborate spy theory while missing the cigarette clue to “Oops, we all accidentally read our entire character sheets and now have to pretend we don’t know who did it.” They end up being more of a conversation piece for buzzed socializing than an exercise in narrative. On the bright side, you rarely have to wonder if one of your guests is an actual murderer, like the unfortunate protagonist of All Dressed Up by Jil...