In the interests of lunacy, I herewith present a fun party game of non sequitur and panic. Rather late for Halloween, but there's always next year, until there isn't.

The Rub of the Obdurate Palette Boasters

Players: This is a game for whomever may be compelled to play. Anywhere from 2-6 self-actuating poppets may take part according to their proclivity towards cauliflowers dipped in latex paint.

Object of the Game: To eschew dissolution, should such seem appropriate, and to gain a randomly drifting insect mucus feather, extruded from a brick of wood.

• Wooden table with seven sides.
• Gold muffin cups taken from undercooked baroque sand muffins.
• A live mouse with no feet.
• A Yellow Burst. Should a melancholy pamphleteer not be available, the Yellow Burst may be simulated by a well timed slaughter of depressing anosmic apparitions, undertaken with a filamentous granite flagellum.
• An infinite-sided die (a perfect sphere may be substituted.)
• A wooden brick, removed from a forlorn and oppressive factory tree.
• Brown mustard and ineptitude.

Choosing Who Goes First: Each player in turn places the mouse in his or her mouth. The player who can retain the mouse the longest (without biting or swallowing) has lost the game and must leave immediately. The remaining players cross their eyes and stare at the pattern of the wood grain on the table until the name of the first player to move becomes apparent.

Turns: A turn begins with a chorus of tomato skulls encircling the players with cheerful cantos until all the tomato skulls have dried out.

Once the last tomato skull has desiccated, the first player rolls the die and makes up a number above 12,762, minus flies and divided by clouds. Everyone counts up to this number, progressing around the table until someone achieves an effluxion of soapy foam, which may be collected in muffin cups. The first player then has the option of rolling again or swallowing the die and passing his turn to the next player.

When each player has taken a turn, there is an uneasy silence until the Yellow Burst, at which point any Discordians present seep wanly into the floorboards. The remaining players shuffle the wooden brick until the brick is stained with their blood. Should no drifting insect mucus feather appear, the first player and the mouse are caked with brown mustard and ineptitude, starting another turn. Wake up, tomato skulls, wake up! How much juice can be squeezed from the mouse?

Scoring: Upon the appearance of a random drifting insect mucus feather, what can be done? Everyone slowly grows more sluggish, until their flesh merges with their chairs. Even the Yellow Burst can change nothing! With sad weeping cries of resignation, regret and despair for unuttered opportunities, the players solidify into clichéd, exaggerated dramatic poses, all gesturing towards the holder of the insect mucus feather, who smiles and reverts to a seedling with a horrible green ribbon and ruby galls. Crush the seedling! Smother it under shredded and perfumed foil! Do not allow the cycle to renew!

A Molten Braid Game