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“This is a terrible idea,” Mallory grumbled, arms crossed as she leaned against some weird nature-y chair in Magnus’ room, where the entirety of Floor 19 was congregated. “I am not doing that.”
“Come on—” drew out Alex, his fingers yanking at some of the grass Magnus had instead of carpet, “You’ve got to do it. Besides, it came out in the sixties, that’s before you died.”
“In America,” Mallory said, “We don’t have that monstrosity in Ireland.”
T.J. sighed loudly, “It’ll be fun, Mallory.”
“Not you too!” Mallory threw her hands up. “I don’t want to play this Newlydead game!”
“It’s the Newlywed game,” Magnus pointed out.
Mallory stood up, knocking into Halfborn’s half-knitted scarf. “I’m dead, not wed.”
Halfborn undid the stitch he’d messed up. “She’s got a point.”
“And you’ve never even dated anyone, T.J.” Mallory pointed a finger at him, her nails were filed almost into speartips. “How can you even play?”
“I can host!” T.J. said, “And ask you guys embarrassing questions about each other.”
“He’s also got a point,” Halfborn said.
Mallory turned towards Halfborn, what T.J. interpreted as a look of bewilderment in her eyes. “You’re okay with this?”
Halfborn shrugged, putting down his knitting. “I’m always down for something different. It gets boring here after a while.”
Mallory scoffed, before sitting back down, “Fine, as long as we play to the death.”
“Woah!” Magnus yelped, making T.J. jump in his spot from the suddenness of his words. “How would we play the Newlywed game to the death?”
“Loser gets decapitated, Beantown,” Alex grinned. “I’m down if you all are.”
T.J. grinned as the rest of them agreed with varying degrees of excitement.
Since T.J. had died before the invention of televisions, and therefore before the publication of this TV show that apparently is still popular enough in the United States that it garners attention, when Alex had come up with this wonderful idea, he had also presented T.J. with a bunch of questions to choose from. All T.J. had to do is ask the questions and give out points, that seemed simple enough.
“Okay, is everyone ready for the Floor Nineteen’s First Ever Newlywed Game!”
“Newlydead game,” corrected Alex and Mallory.
“Newlydead game, whatever,” T.J. dismissed. “I’m your host, Thomas Jefferson J.R., or T.J. for short.”
“Get on with the show,” Mallory grumbled.
“Let him speak,” Halfborn elbowed her in the rib.
“Thank you, Halfborn. As I was saying, I’m your host, T.J., and how we play the game is simple. I’m going to give each of you a question, and you’ll have to figure out what your partner wrote. Matching answers gives you—” He looked at the scribbled notes Alex wrote, and found he couldn't read it, “Ten points, I guess, and not matching gives you zero. For example,”
“Oh gods—”
“For example, Mallory, I may ask you what is Halfborn’s favorite animal, and both you and Halfborn will write down what’s Halfborn’s favorite animal. If it matches, you get points! If not—”
“You get decapitated,” Alex cut in.
T.J. sighed, “No, not yet. Once the game’s finished, winners can kill the loser however they so choose.”
Halfborn raised his hand, which T.J. appreciated. “Yes, Halfborn?”
“How many rounds are we doing?”
“Five.”
“Sounds good.”
“Perfect, Magnus, can you hand out dry erase boards?” T.J. watched as Magnus handed out the dry erase boards Alex had brought even before Mallory and Halfborn had agreed to play with them and sat down in his own spot, his board ready on his lap. “Everyone ready?”
Everyone gave affirmative answers, so he started with the first question from Alex’s list, “Mallory and Magnus, what’s your partners’ first language,”
“Not every language he speaks, right?” Magnus reiterated.
Mallory didn’t even look up from where she was scribbling, “That’s what he said, dumbass.”
T.J. raised his hand in a stop motion, “No aggression in my game room.”
“I didn’t do anything,” whined Magnus.
“Well, time’s up, so let’s see these answers. Mallory?”
“Old Norse.”
“Alright,” T.J. mimed a drum roll on his knees, “Let’s reveal Halfborn’s answer!”
Halfborn showed his board, which said Old Norse in calligraphy. Extra.
“That’s ten points!” T.J. clapped for them. “Magnus?”
“I put English, like, modern English.”
Alex rolled his eyes, “You idiot, I learned Spanish first, I told you that.”
“Aw, that’s disappointing,” T.J. mimicked an incorrect buzzer sound. “Better luck next time.”
“If we get killed, it’s your fault,” Alex mumbled.
“Sorry,” grumbled Magnus.
“Next question!” T.J. squinted to read the smudged writing, “Alex and Halfborn, what’s your partner’s weapon of choice?”
T.J. waited until everyone was done scribbling their answers. “Halfborn?”
Halfborn revealed his answer with a dramatic hand flourish. “Knives.”
Mallory flipped her own board and fist bumped the air.
“I thought you didn’t care,” Alex taunted.
“When I get the ability to kill you guys not in training? I have incentive now.”
Magnus stuck out his tongue and was about to say something probably not kid-friendly when T.J. cut in. “Alright, alright. Alex?”
“I put Jack.”
Magnus flipped his board, “Jack’s all I can use.” The rune on his necklace buzzed, as if understanding they were talking about him. Knowing Jack, he probably did.
“Stellar!” T.J. said, “The score’s now twenty to ten, with Mallborn in the lead.”
“Mallborn?” asked Halfborn.”
“It’s your ship name,” T.J. explained, “Like, a combo of your names, so I don’t have to say the whole thing the whole time.”
“The name does slay,” Alex added.
“Thank you, Alex. As I was saying, Mallborn has twenty and Fierrochase has ten.”
“Why are we Fierrochase?”
“It sounds better,” declared T.J.
“And Mallborn sounds better than Keenderson….” Magnus let his words trail off. “Actually yeah, that is better.”
“Thank you for accepting my greatness,” T.J. said. “Question three! Back to Mallory and Magnus, what is your partner’s favorite activity here at Hotel Valhalla?”
Magnus jotted his answer down quickly, leaving Mallory in the dust as she struggled to come up with the answer. “Mal?” T.J. asked after she seemed to be finished.
Mallory glanced over at Halfborn, “I put German Literature to the Death.”
Halfborn frowned slightly, “No, that’s my second favorite. My first is Knitting to the Death.”
“Too bad,” T.J. said, “Now, team Fierrochase can catch up if they get this right.”
“I put Pottery to the Death,” Magnus said.
Alex jumped, “Yes! Pottery T.T.D. for the win!”
“Score’s all tied up, let’s see if anyone can push ahead! Question four, for Halfborn and Alex, who’s your partner’s godly parent.”
“Easy as pie.”
Both teams got that question right; Alex writing Frey in his barely legible chicken scratch and Halfborn writing Frigg in calligraphy.
“All right, as we go into the questions, let’s check our scoreboard—”
“Thirty, thirty, tied,” Mallory said, “Let’s go, next question!”
“Final question, Magnus and Mallory, how did your partner first die?”
“That’s not fair, Magnus watched Alex’s tape!” complained Mallory.
T.J. rolled his eyes, “I know Halfborn has told you a bajillion times, though, so really it is fair.”
Mallory huffed, but wrote something down.
“Okay, since you complained, Mallory, you can go first.”
Mallory flipped her board, “I said a viking invasion.”
Halfborn revealed his matching answer.
“Fuck yeah!”
“And moving onto your opponents, Magnus, can you tie the game?”
“I put stupid, fucking wolves,” Magnus said earnestly.
Alex grinned tossing his board aside, “I said wolves too! Ha!”
“So that leaves us with a tie!” T.J. announced, “Wait, what do we do for a tie?”
“Kill each other?” suggested Mallory.
“Or not,” countered Magnus.
“How about you all answer a question on me!” T.J. said, “First team to get it right wins.”
“Oh, I have buzzers!” Alex grinned, pulling a stack of buzzers out of his bag he had. T.J. didn’t even want to know why Alex had buzzers on his person.
“That works.”
The buzzers were passed out, and T.J. watched as everyone prepared. “Last week at dinner, I told you guys why I never dated or really even made out before, what was the reason?”
The buzzers echoed in the room, but T.J. did here the boing before the boom. “Boing? Who’s that?”
Alex touched his and Magnus’s button and, sure enough, it boinged. “Yes, that’s us! You said you were reading some books on queer identities to better understand me and Magnus and discovered your aromantic and asexual!”
“Ding ding ding!” T.J. grinned. “It looks like Alex and Magnus win!”
“Yes!” Alex procured his garotte out of literally nowhere, “Come on, Keen, Gunderson, let’s go!”
The last thing T.J. heard before he bolted from Magnus’s room was, “Don’t get blood on my clean floor!”