Cooee, loves! I'm Doris Stokes, Queen of the Dead, and I intend to take over the world with my army from beyond the grave. Everyone who's ever died is under my command, including Jim... no, not Jim, Tim... definitely Tim. Tom, yes, Tom, or possibly Wendy, and only you stand between my blank-eyed hordes and complete earthly domination.
You see, I've chosen you as the world's champion - I know it was you, I saw your name clearly, it came through very strongly - and in the spirit of fair play (he's just over there, lovely feller), if you can best me in single combat I'll spare your plane.
Now I'm not one much for physical effort, especially now I'm a wisp of ectoplasm, so this contest is a battle of wits. You have to think of someone in my army - someone dead, in other words - and if I can work out who it is, I get to kill someone in Norfolk. If you defeat me, you can immobilise one of my troops with a vacuum cleaner; and, over the course of eight thousand million or so games, we'll decide the fate of the Earth. Okay? Super!
(To summarise for the inattentive or undereducated: think of someone real but dead (preferably someone fairly well-known, rather than your Aunt Eulalie or something), and Doris Stokes will attempt to work out who you're pretending to be. To give up and start again, click Doris's queenly face. If you're still unsure of what's going on, inspect the full rules.)
Important rule change. If you've played before loves, you ought to have a quick squizz at those rules, as I now allow duplicates.
The scores are currently 5,988 to Doris, and 8,136 to humanity.
The game begins.
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