Murder on the Playground - 8. And the Killer Is…

The clock was ticking for the contestants as they found themselves in the final stretch of the show. After a whirlwind of a weekend, they had almost reached the very end. Now, only a couple of hours remained until they would have to cast their votes on who they thought the killer was. And while some people decided to spend the remaining time relaxing, others seemed to be more on edge than ever, clearly under pressure over the impending finale of the game. The lounge seemed especially lively, with Samson, Troy, Eric and Alana sitting on the couch, chatting. Gloria and Kelly were huddled in a corner, whispering among themselves, while Marcus was by the windows, pacing to and fro, not paying attention to anyone else.

“You think he’s trying to hit his 10,000 steps a day?” Samson asked as he watched Marcus walk around, obviously lost in thought.

Eric snickered as he finished the last of his protein shake. “Hey, Marcus. Come chill with us, man. No need to be so nervous.”

“Of course I’m not nervous,” the dancer decided to indulge him and walk over to the group. “I was just thinking.”

“About the murder case?”

“Yeah, what else?”

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t figured it out?” the quarterback asked.

“And you have?” Marcus eyed him with disbelief as he made himself comfortable in an armchair by the couch. He leaned over, picked up a biscuit from a plate and popped it into his mouth.

“I dunno. I have a pretty good idea,” Eric sounded nonchalant. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’ll need more than a good idea to win. And I am not planning to lose,” the dancer seemed determined.

“Guys, can we talk about anything other than the murder?” Alana groaned in exasperation. “I know we all want to win for our charities, but come on, live a little.”

“How ironic of you to say that,” Troy grinned. “But yeah, I’m with Alana. You know those kids who cram five minutes before an exam? Never liked them.”

“Good point,” Eric agreed. “We should talk about other stuff. Like my game next weekend. Who wants to come? I’ll get you all tickets.”

“Ooh, I’ve never been to a football game!” Samson seemed intrigued. “Where is it?”

“In Chicago,” the quarterback replied before even realizing what the other guy had said. “Wait… never?!”

“Do I look like I’m into sports?” the singer retorted. “But maybe I’m missing out. I’d love to go at least once. Which team are you playing against? Just so I know who I’ll be cheering for.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Eric rolled his eyes. “If I get you tickets, you better show up in the colors of my team, ok?”

“Fine, blue is my color anyway,” Samson shrugged. “I’m down for coming. Anyone else?”

While Troy and Marcus both seemed eager to join in on the adventure, Alana was more reluctant.

“I’m shooting my own show next weekend, so I won’t be able to. But thanks for the invite anyway. Maybe next time.”

“No worries. I’ll have to ask the others too,” Eric didn’t seem fazed at all.

“I bet Tiff would love to come,” Samson said. “Where is she, by the way?”

“Last time I saw her, she was heading to the kitchen,” Troy replied, gesturing to the door behind them.

“Thanks, I’ll go look for her. Be right back!”

The popstar quickly made his way out of the lounge and across the hall, finally reaching the kitchen. As he opened the door, he found Tiffany standing behind the kitchen island, her face looking flushed. Her usually very neat hair, tied in a long ponytail, seemed a little messed up, while her trusty notebook lay on the countertop in front of her.

“Samson! Hi!” the girl squealed, an unnaturally big grin on her face. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl. You ok?” the note of uncertainty in the singer’s voice was more than obvious as he gave the girl a confused look.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I was just… stumped by the case. Doing some last minute revisions, going through my notes,” she picked up her notebook, giving it a shake.

“Ah, ok. Just don’t tell Troy about it,” Samson replied with a smile.

“Um, you got it.”

“So, do you need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good, babe. I just wanted to come here and be alone with my thought,” Tiffany smiled back, this time more sincerely. “But thanks anyway.”

“Ok, then. I’ll leave you to it. The rest of us are in the lounge, by the way. Come over when you’re done.”

With a wave and a wink, Samson left the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Rico popped up from behind the kitchen island right next to Tiffany, his eyes wide, but a mischievous grin on his face.

“You think he knew I was here?” he whispered as he leaned into the girl, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she let out a soft giggle, following it up with a peck on the man’s lips.

“That was close, though. Good thing we’ll be out of here in a few hours.”

“Yeah. But I think we better go back now before they realize you’re missing too.”

“True. You better go first, and I’ll follow in a few minutes,” the NBA player suggested, giving the girl another smooch before she left.

Even before she entered the lounge, Tiffany could hear raised voices from the hallway. Whoever was in there seemed to be arguing. Seeing as they were in the final stages of the game, it only seemed normal, the girl thought as she stopped in front of a mirror, fixing her hair. Once she was happy with how it looked, she made her way into the lounge.

“Aren’t you gonna be under a lot of pressure knowing we’re all watching you?” Kelly asked. “Wouldn’t want you to lose the game because of us.”

Eric’s response was a loud, booming laugh that had his broad chest shaking. “Yeah, good one! I’ve got thousands of fans watching me every game, but I’ll get nervous because of you lot!”

“Wait, what’s happening here?” Tiffany seemed even more confused than usual. “I thought you guys were fighting.”

“Nah, Kelly is just trying to wind Eric up. He invited us to his game next weekend,” Troy explained.

“Yeah, wanna come? It’s in Chicago,” the athlete added. “I’ll get you tickets.”

“Oh! I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’d love to!” the girl seemed genuinely excited at the prospect. “Thanks, Eric!”

“No worries. Alright, that just leaves Rico and Clementine. Where the hell are those two?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen Rico!” Tiffany blurted out just as the man himself entered the lounge.

“My ears are burning,” the basketball player seemed curious at the mention of his name. “What’s going on now?”

“They’ll fill you in. I’m gonna go look for Clementine,” Tiffany quickly added before slipping out of the room and heading down the hallway. Room by room, she popped in to see where the chef was, until she finally reached the library. Opening the door, she took a step inside the cozy room basking in the warm, orange light of a table lamp by one of the bookshelves. In a nearby armchair, Clementine was sitting perfectly still, her eyes closed, bejeweled hands clasped over her stomach.

“Ahh!” the young starlet let out a shocked gasp, her wide eyes fixed on the motionless woman in front of her. “No! Not another one!”

Quick as lightning, she reached for the door handle again, pulling it as she popped her head out the door before shouting out, her voice piercing the quiet of the library. “Guys! Come quickly! Clementine… I mean, Judy, she’s dead!”

All of a sudden, the sound of clothes rustling behind her made the girl turn back around, only to see Clementine getting up from the chair, very much alive and well.

“Wait, you’re not dead?!”

“Of course not. I was just taking a power nap,” the older woman replied calmly as she straightened out her dress.

“Ah, sorry. A tiny misunderstanding,” the girl couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle, her cheeks turning pink. “False alarm, guys!” she yelled as she turned back to the hallway. “Anyway, let’s go to the lounge. I think Eric wants to ask you something.”

“Oh, good,” Clementine could not seem less enthusiastic. “I’m just dying to hear what it is.”

~~

The large grandfather clock in the grand hall rang out twice, the loud sound reverberating through the room. It was two in the afternoon, and the time for the final event had come. As instructed, the ten contestants all gathered in the lounge, sitting on sofas and armchairs across the room. It was only a moment later that Nicholas Stone himself opened the door, impeccably dressed in a light grey suit. Without a word, entered the lounge and approached the group. The man seemed to relish the obvious anticipation in the air and having all eyes on him. Finally, he decided he had kept his guests in suspense long enough and turned towards the nearest camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he opened his speech, addressing the contestants as much as the viewers, “welcome to the finale of Murder on the Playground. It’s been a hell of a weekend for our guests, and I hope you’ve all enjoyed it. But now, after two murders and countless accusations, it’s time to see who’s got the chops for a detective, and who’s not cut out for a life of crime-solving. And, of course, let’s not forget our prize. Our guests are competing for two hundred thousand dollars, and if more than one person correctly guesses the killer, that money will be equally split among them. If no one is correct, the murderer wins the entire prize fund.”

“Come on, guys, we can do this,” Rico encouraged the group.

“I hope at least one of us guesses correctly,” Samson mused. “Imagine if the killer gets the money!”

“Well, it’s not like they’re a killer in real life,” Kelly countered. “They’re just playing the game, same as any of us.”

“Sounds like something the killer would say,” Marcus gave her a pointed look.

“Good luck to everyone,” Gloria spoke up as she looked around the group. “But mostly to me.”

At that point, two crew members quietly went around the room, handing out pens and pieces of paper to each contestant.

“My dear guests, I hope you’ve used this time to think and go over everything you’ve learned about each other over the last few days. Or maybe you’re just counting on being lucky enough to guess the correct person,” the host shrugged as he turned to the contestants. “Either way, the time has come for you to make your guesses. Please write down the name - and only one name - of the person you think is the killer on the papers provided to you. Of course, keep the papers to yourselves. No collusion is allowed,” he added, watching as Tiffany craned her neck to try and look at Samson’s paper. The girl instantly looked back down, biting her lip in embarrassment.

A sudden silence descended on the lavish lounge as the contestants focused on the pens and papers in their hands. One by one, they silently scribbled down the names of their top suspects before folding the papers in half. Even once everyone was done, they kept quiet as they looked around, feeling as if they were taking part in a sacred, ancient ceremony where peace was not to be disturbed.

It was Nicholas who broke the silence yet again.

“Is everyone done?” he asked, his question met with nods and murmurs of agreement from all ten contestants. “Excellent. Then we can begin! I’d like to invite our resident detective Pamela I. Maxwell to stand up first and reveal who she has voted for. Tiffany, please show us whose name you wrote down and why.”

Suddenly feeling nervous as if taking a real test, the young starlet stood up from her seat. Her eyes dashes across the faces around her before finally settling on Samson. Quietly, she unfolded her paper, showing ‘Mr. Olive’ written down in large letters. Before she could even get a word in, Samson let out a gasp, whipping his head sharply towards her.

“Me?! Seriously?”

“Sorry, babe! I just… I wasn’t sure, and after this morning, you seemed awfully suspicious,” Tiffany felt the need to defend herself.

“So, you believe Mr. Olive is the killer?” Nicholas asked.

“Ah, yes, I… I think so?” the girl nodded, realizing she should probably be responding in character. “I’ve racked my brain all day, went through all of the clues I’ve collected, and… Honestly, it wasn’t an easy call to make. Mr. Olive seemed trustworthy, but after finding out he had an affair with both Alfie and Reggie, I think he can’t be trusted. I think he was in it only for the money.”

“Very well,” the host nodded as Tiffany sat back down. A few seats further to the left, Samson looked into the distance, his expression unreadable. “Would anyone like to go n-?”

“I would!” before anyone could even react, Samson rose from his seat, unfolding his paper with a smug smile. “I voted for… Judy Green.”

This time, nearly everyone stared in surprise at the name written on Samson’s paper, including Clementine herself. It seemed that no one else had considered her to be a suspect.

“Mr. Olive, why do you think Judy Green is the murderer?” the host inquired.

“Well, I was suspicious of her and Reggie from the start, with how she’d always stand up for him. It didn’t make sense. But then we found out she is his mom. And as Reggie said, they kept it all a secret. Honestly, it’s not hard to put two and two together. Nick must’ve been less than thrilled his sister went sneaking out and getting knocked up by one of his ranch hands. I’d bet he was the one who forced her to hide the affair and the baby. Judy must’ve resented him for it, so once she finally made sure she and Reggie would get something out of Nick’s will, she offed him,” Samson finished his speech, looking mighty confident.

The sound of Clementine’s laughter filled the room, drawing looks from everyone. “You’ve got a very active imagination, I’ll give you that,” the woman said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Can I go next, please?”

“You may, Ms. Green. The floor is yours,” Nicholas gave her a nod.

“Thank you,” Clementine stood up as Samson sat down, his lips pursed as his eyes fixated on the woman. “I don’t think you’ll be surprised to see that I voted for… Mr. Olive,” she opened her paper, revealing the name she wrote. “I wasn’t suspecting him at first, but after finding out about his affairs, I have to agree with what detective Maxwell said. I think he tried to get close to Alfie because of money. As for why he got involved with Reggie, I’m not sure. I thought my son would have more common sense than that, but we all make mistakes. Anyway, I think Mr. Olive is the culprit.”

“What a surprise, another blind sheep,” Samson had to roll his eyes. “At least it’s funny watching you embarrass yourselves. Next!”

“That would be my line, Mr. Olive,” Nicholas let out a chuckle. “Who would like to go next?”

“I’ll go, if no one minds,” Gloria slowly stood up, fixing her long dress with her fingers before grabbing her paper and opening it for everyone to see. The reactions ranged from surprised to amused, while Eric grimaced as if he’d just read the dumbest joke in his life. “I think you’re all wrong, and the real murderer is Father Tabernacle,” the actress said, pointing at Eric. “Think about it. He admitted to stealing Nick’s money - and not just any money, but a donation to his church - and he wouldn’t have said anything if he hadn’t been exposed. He clearly killed Nick because of it, and then killed Mrs. Edwards because she was Nick’s lawyer. It makes perfect sense, so I’m not really sure why the rest of you are not voting for him.”

“Nicky, my man, can I go next?” Eric raised his hand as if trying to catch a waiter’s attention. “I need to set some things straight around here.”

“Be my guest, Father Tabernacle,” the host agreed.

“Thank you, my child. May your soul rest in peace,” the athlete quickly jumped into his role. “Let me begin by addressing these accusations against me. Needless to say, they are untrue and malicious, but it is in my heart to forgive. However, there is something that cannot be forgiven, and that is murder. And the culprit is here today, sitting among us and sharing our bread! Yes, it is none other than Ms. Marie Thibodeaux,” he raised his voice, dramatically pointing at Gloria. “Ms. Thibodeaux herself said she desired Nick to marry her, something he refused to do. He was content to be her friend, perhaps something more, but not a husband. I believe Nick to be a victim of a crime of passion, committed by a woman scorned! May God forgive you, Ms. Thibodeaux. I have spoken.”

“Are you done with the dramatics, Father?” Gloria scoffed at him, playing with the paper in her hands. “Cute speech, but that’s all it is. Cute.”

“Thank you, Father Tabernacle,” the host gave Eric a nod, gesturing for him to sit back down. “Does anyone wish to go next?”

“Yes, I’d like to,” Kelly instantly stood up, not bothering to wait for anyone’s approval.

“Alright, Miss Turner,” Nicholas replied. “We’d love to hear your thoughts on the case.”

“So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, really trying to figure out who would want to kill my father. And yes, a lot of people here seem to have a motive, but there’s one person I think you’re all overlooking. And that is… Alfie Fortescue,” the girl’s voice was full of determination as she unwrapped her paper, revealing the name she wrote down. Marcus simply raised an eyebrow, sending the girl an incredulous look, but remained quiet otherwise. “I admit, I didn’t really know much about my father, but I was hoping to change that. And from his will, I can see he was a family person, someone deeply caring. He left an inheritance to Judy and Reggie, and I’m sure he wouldn’t leave his daughter empty-handed. I think he intended to change the will and leave something to me, so Alfie killed him before he had the chance to do that. Luckily, I’m here to expose you,” she added, smirking as she caught Marcus’ eye. “It’s a bad day to be a murderer, brother.”

“Oh, this was so much fun,” Marcus dialed up his sarcasm to eleven. “Gotta love it when someone talks about something they know nothing about. Anyway, can I go next?”

“Of course, Alfie. We’re all ears,” Nicholas gestured for him to get up.

“Thank you. I figured after Phoebe’s little fantasy, it’s time we went back to the real world. No one here has been affected by the death of my father more than I have, and no one wants to see his murderer brought to justice as much as I do. And as much as it pains me to say this, I’m now fully convinced the killer is… Mr. Olive,” Marcus dramatically unfolded his paper, showing yet another vote for Samson.

At this point, the singer could not even be bothered to say anything. He simply rolled his eyes and let the dancer continue with his speech.

“Mr. Olive fooled me, led me to believe he was in love with me, when all he really wanted was my father’s fortune. And to make matters worse, he did the same with Reggie. There’s no doubt in my mind he killed my father and Mrs. Edwards,” Marcus added, fixing Samson with an exaggerated glare. “Oh, Mr. Olive, you’re on a precipice now!”

“Oh, poor me, I’m shaking!” Samson made fun of him. “Please don’t send me to prison!”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Olive, you’re not convicted yet,” the host smiled as he looked at the remaining contestants, noticing Troy raising his hand. “Reggie, would you like to go next?”

“Yeah, I’d like to take a shot,” there was a cheeky smile on Troy’s face as he stood up, giving the other contestants the eye. He slowly opened up his paper, turning it around to show the name no one was expecting: Lucy Edwards.

While a few people laughed, most of them seemed baffled, including Alana herself.

“Let me explain, alright? I think the lawyer, Mrs. Edwards, is our killer.”

“How could I possibly be the killer?” Alana couldn’t help but interrupt him. “I’m a victim too!”

“Hold on, I’m gettin’ to that part,” Troy gestured impatiently. “Alright, so we all know the person you least suspect is usually the killer, right? And who would suspect someone who’s dead? It’s the perfect plan. She gets everyone off her trail, no one votes for her, and she goes home with the prize!”

“So you’re saying Mrs. Edwards killed Nick, and then killed herself? But why?” Samson shook his head as he gazed at Troy. “It doesn’t make sense. I mean, I get why Alana would do it, it’s the perfect strategy. But why would Mrs. Edwards do it?”

“Who knows? Maybe she was in love with Nick, or she found out about some shady business of his and got into a fight with him over it. And then she felt guilty for killing him, so she… overdosed on ketchup. Just think about it for a minute.”

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room as everyone took in Troy’s words, trying to process his theory. He sat back down on the couch and crossed his arms, looking pleased with himself.

“I… I hate that this somehow makes so much sense now,” Gloria hesitantly admitted. It wouldn’t have occurred to her in a million years, but it seemed like the perfect plot twist for the show.

“Is it too late to change our votes now?” Tiffany looked hopefully at the host.

“I’m afraid it is,” he replied. “Thank you, Reggie, for your contribution. Now, who wants to-”

“I’ll go. Might as well,” Rico shrugged as he stood up before Alana had the chance. He did not seem particularly sure of himself. He clumsily unfolded his paper, revealing ‘Mr. Olive’ written in large, block letters. “Like a few people already said, I think it was the cook who did it. I think he was very good at staying under the radar the whole time, but when his affairs were exposed, everything kinda clicked into place. At least for me. And I remember watching Samson in the Mafia game on the first show. He seems like he could pull off being a killer, so… yeah, that’s it.”

“Brief and to the point. Very well, Mr. Wordsworth,” Nicholas replied. “And last but not the least, Mrs. Lucy Edwards, our resident lawyer slash murder victim.”

“Thank you, Nicky,” Alana stood up, straightening her outfit. Unlike the previous day, which she spent in a white dress and with a pale, ghostly face, she was now back in her business suit. “Well, we’ve certainly heard a fair share of outlandish theories today, haven’t we? Especially from young Reggie here,” she added, glancing at Troy. “But I think the real killer is none other than Mr. Jeremiah Wordsworth.”

Rico immediately shook his head as he watched Alana unfold her paper, showing his character’s name written on it.

“We all know he had a motive - the failed business deal with Nick. He was aware I knew about it and could expose him, which is why he went after me. And we’ve already heard some people say he was going around looking for me just before I died. It’s simple and it’s logical. Sometimes the simplest solution is the correct one.”

“Not in this case it’s not!” Rico shot back, but Alana simply shrugged before taking her seat.

For a moment, nobody said anything. The contestants fidgeted silently, a tense silence filling the air as they waited for something to happen. They had done all they could do, and now the moment of truth was coming.

Finally, Nicholas spoke again.

“Very well then. Everyone’s made their case. Let’s see, we have one vote for Lucy Edwards, one for Alfie, one for Ms. Thibodeaux, one for Mr. Wordsworth, one for Father Tabernacle, one for Judy Green, and… four votes for Mr. Olive. I hope you’re all happy with how you voted, because the moment we’ve all been waiting for is here,” he announced solemnly. “And now, I’d like to ask the murderer to please stand up and come stand here next to me.”

At first, it seemed that no one would move. All the contestants exchanged quick, silent glances, no one daring to utter a sound. Was one of them truly playing an evil mastermind, or was there no killer after all? Just as they started questioning everything about the last two days, a big, shameless grin spread across Troy’s face as he stood up and swaggered over to Nicholas, his head held high.

All of a sudden, a chorus of loud groans filled the room, as everyone stared at the young actor in disbelief. Troy couldn’t help but laugh, pleased with his performance. He cast a quick glance at Samson, finding the wide-eyed singer staring at him in surprise.

“Troy, or should I say Reggie, congratulations and well done!” the host shook the actor’s hand as they smiled for the cameras. “You’ve managed to get away with not just one murder, but two, and none of the other contestants caught on to you. Of course, that means you are the winner of the show! Congratulations, Troy, you’ve won two hundred thousand dollars for the charity of your choice!”

A crew member appeared, bringing a giant fake check and handing it over to the winner. Grinning from ear to ear, Troy lifted it up and waved it around as the others cheered him on, clapping as loudly as they could.

“Please tell us, which charity will you be donating the money to?” the host asked.

“I’ll be donating the money to the Mountain View Children’s Hospital in Silverstone, my hometown,” Troy replied, lifting the check into the air once again before setting it down at his feet. “I’m so proud I get to do this for them.”

“We’re all proud of you too. But now, can we run through what happened? Why was Reggie the killer and how did he get away with it?”

“Oh, my pleasure, Nicky,” the actor nodded, turning towards the other contestants. “So, none of you managed to figure it out, but Reggie’s dad died in an accident on the ranch.”

“Oh my god, she… she told me that,” Tiffany cut in, pointing at Clementine. “But I didn’t think it was relevant information!”

“Well, it was. And the accident was Nick’s fault,” Troy continued. “My mom, Judy, decided to make peace with it, but I couldn’t. I knew I wanted revenge. So I poisoned Nick, and then, when the detective started to investigate, I got spooked she was going to figure it out, so I left her that note. I was actually supposed to kill her at the library, but in the dark I accidentally killed Mrs. Edwards instead. Sorry, Alana!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman shook her head, smiling at him.

“I was lucky no one asked about my dad at the Q&A session or people would’ve definitely start to suspect me. Though Samson was on the right track. He figured there was something shady going on, he just had the wrong person, though.”

“Yeah, just that tiny detail,” Samson let out a chuckle.

“And I even got you all to believe in my crazy Alana theory!” Troy added, laughing. “That was so good!”

“I honestly thought it made sense,” Gloria shrugged. “Maybe next time you should write the script.”

“If I’d been the detective, I would’ve figured it out for sure,” Kelly was confident despite her loss. “Ten minutes with each of you, and you would’ve cracked.”

“Cracked your skull maybe,” Marcus muttered, drawing a laugh out of Samson and Tiffany.

“Come on, then, bring it in!” Eric was the first to get up from his seat and go over to Troy, spreading out his arms for a hug. “Well played, man! You got us all.”

“Yeah, good job, man! Guess you really are a good actor,” Rico stood by, waiting for his turn.

“You guess? Wow, brutal,” Troy laughed as the two men slapped each other on the back.

One by one, the contestants began getting up and walking over to Troy, eager to congratulate him on the victory. By the time they were finished and made their way over to the grand hall, the place was already fully prepared for a party. A large feast was laid out on the tables, as spooky music played in the background.

In the commotion, Troy found his way to Samson, catching his eye as he sat next to him. With the others busy talking amongst each other, he leaned over, getting closer to the singer.

“So, are you mad I tricked you?”

“Mad? Yeah, I’m mad I didn’t figure it out!” Samson laughed before shaking his head. “Nah, of course not, honey. We were just playing a game. And you played it perfectly. I’m actually impressed.”

“Oh yeah? You know I enjoy impressing you,” Troy whispered, giving him a sultry look. “We almost got caught too, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did. It was kinda exciting,” the singer giggled.

“So, we’re both going to Eric’s game next weekend,” the actor said. Samson’s lips slowly spread into a grin as he realized where things were going. “Maybe we can almost get caught there too?”

“Mmm, sounds like a plan,” Samson replied as his hand found its way under the table and to Troy’s thigh, rubbing it up and down. “You know, I still need to congratulate you properly on your win.”

“Yes, you do,” Troy nodded with a smirk, his eyes lingering on Samson’s lush lips. “Your room or mine?”

~~

“So, not only did I not win any money, I also got killed when it wasn’t even in the script,” Alana shook her head, pretending to be upset. “Just my luck, right? Only I don’t think it was bad luck. I think Nicholas has it out for me again. I’m telling you, he’s intimidated by my beauty and my superior TV presenter skills. That’s right, the jig is up, Nicky! One of these days I’ll have you on my show, and then you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Well, at least this time I wasn’t voted out on day one,” Gloria was all smiles during her exit interview. “I had so much fun, it was a blast! And yeah, it was so lovely to meet up with everyone again. How did I find playing Marie Thibodeaux? Oh, I loved the character! I’d be down to doing a whole series based around her. By the way, can I have some of her wardrobe?”

“For the last time, it’s Wordsworth!” Rico had to correct the interviewer. “Wait, what was the question again? Oh, right, I’m not really disappointed. I mean, it would’ve been nice to win the money for my charity, but we all played for a good cause. I was really sure it was Samson who did it, though. Imma have to rewatch it and see what I missed. By the way, shout out to everyone on the show! I had a blast, and if you want me here again, just call my agent!”

“Can you believe so many people voted for Samson?” Tiffany leaned towards the camera, her ponytail flying around as she shook her head. “I voted for him too? Well, yeah, but that was different, we’re friends. Um, anyway, next question! Oh yeah, I found it difficult. I’ve gotta say, being a detective is not as easy as you might think. But I had so much fun, and I loved seeing my Playground crew again. Kisses to everyone!!”

“Yeah, I didn’t win this time around,” Marcus seemed unbothered, putting on a smile for the camera. “But maybe it’s for the best. If I’d won this show too, people might think it’s rigged. And Troy managed to play us all, so well done! Did I have fun? You bet! I can’t wait to go home and watch the whole thing. Did I get a lot of screen time?”

“This was such a rollercoaster all the way through,” Kelly said, a light chuckle escaping her lips. “No, it wasn’t particularly hard. I think I did the best I could, all things considering. I mean, there were some glaring plot holes, but it was all in good fun. Which ones? Uh… We don’t need to go there right now. We all did this for a good cause, which is what matters.”

“You know, I’m gonna miss that priest uniform in a weird way,” Eric admitted as he laughed. “No, you don’t have to pack it for me… Actually, why not? I can auction it for charity. Honestly, man, I think my character was the standout. Yeah, even more so than the killer. I bet there’s gonna be an action figure of Father Tabernacle. That’d be cool. Yo, producers, are you taking notes?”

“Did I enjoy playing Judy Green? Very much,” Clementine nodded before taking a sip of water. “Though I won’t be switching to her long dresses and tons of jewelry any time soon. Do you know how heavy all those bracelets and rings were? Um, my favorite moment? The séance for sure. But I had fun all the way through. I hope everyone had as much fun watching it.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to win, but I have to give credit where credit’s due, Troy deserved it,” Samson replied honestly. “My favorite part? The Q&A session… even if Marcus did ruin my mascara. You know, I think I’ve unlocked some dormant acting skills I didn’t even know I possessed... Oh, that’s a tough question! I honestly can’t decide if I prefer this show or the first one. I wonder what my Stansons think - I’ll have to ask them! Love you all!”

“I feel great! This whole weekend was a hell of a good time,” Troy seemed on top of the world, his handsome smile not leaving his face for a moment. “Was it difficult? No, not really. Honestly, I had no expectations. When I first read my character sheet and saw I was the killer, I thought it could go either way. But I managed to get away with it easily. Was I the smartest person there? Your words, not mine, buddy. I really hope the audience loved watching it as much as we loved doing it… How am I going to celebrate? Well, that’s for me to know and you to never find out,” the actor finished off with a cheeky wink to the camera. “Can I do an outro? Sure. I’m Troy Wolfe, and you’ve been watching… Murder on the Playground!”

Thanks to everyone who read this story and left me reactions and comments! I hope you had fun in joining our celebrities as they played their roles and investigated some not so sinister murders.
Have a lovely day, and I hope to see you all in a future story!