“We will have some capital hunting, you and I,” said the general. “I shall be most glad to have your society.”
“But what game –” began Rainsford.
“I’ll tell you,” said the general. “You will be amused, I know. I think I may say, in all modesty, that I have done a rare thing. I have invented a new sensation. May I pour you another glass of port?”
“Thank you, general.”
The general filled both glasses, and said, “God makes some men poets. Some He makes kings, some beggars. Me He made a hunter. My hand was made for the trigger, my father said. He was a very rich man with a quarter of a million acres in the Crimea, and he was an ardent sportsman. When I was only five years old he gave me a little gun, specially made in Moscow for me, to shoot sparrows with. When I shot some of his prize turkeys with it, he did not punish me; he complimented me on my marksmanship. I killed my first bear in the Caucasus when I was ten. My whole life has been one prolonged hunt. I went into the army – it was expected of noblemen’s sons – and for a time commanded a division of Cossack cavalry, but my real interest was always the hunt. I have hunted every kind of game in every land. It would be impossible for me to tell you how many animals I have killed.”
“How nice,” Rainsford said.
“On second thought,” General Zaroff said, “it is an awfully dangerous game, and perhaps you would rather not play after such a long trip.”
Rainsford was reluctant to agree at first, because it seemed impolite, but he was rather relieved not to have to play after his long trip. “Let’s play another game,” he suggested. “After all, there are so many other wonderful games to play here.”
There were, and they did. He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided later, lying in his bed, after they had played several rounds of various games, and didn’t hunt one another at all.
I feel like the most dangerous game would be dinosaurs with lasers.
http://www.smbc-comics.com/?id=1488
The other night I was licking smoothie remnants out of the bladey-part of our Magic Bullet (not while it was attached to the machine–it could not suddenly turn on) and my partner said, “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”
I, not being fully prepared, responded with “Not as dangerous as – uh – fire polo.”
Jai Alai? (sorry, had to make the Archer reference)
Also, an alarming amount of literature exists about people hunting each other down.
Indeed. It’s quite a propos that the new season of Game of Thrones just started…
Was it a different bed, or was it Zaroff’s bed? This is important.
Of course it’s Zaroff’s bed. No other reading is possible.
Oh, that was so nice. Right in the middle of a nasty round of office emails, it was exactly the right thing.
(whispers) can we fix The Velveteen Rabbit now?
No!!! The Velveteen Rabbit is perfect! (“perfect” here means “makes me sob like a baby every time I read it, also made my dad cry when he read it to me as a kid”) he becomes real! BECAUSE HE WAS SO LOVED!
I may or may not have had (still have) a toy rabbit that I kept with me at all times as a child.
I had issues with it as a smallperson, and then when Mallory made it horrifying I had actual nightmares for, well, more than one night. I thought maybe we could have less illness and burning and all your friends will die?
I may have read Watership Down a little too soon after tVR.
so traumatizing. and just in time for our children’s generation… Netflix and the BBC are teaming up to ensure that no generation of children goes without the character-building experience of waking up screaming at the thought of being messily devoured by rabbits, or drowned in pastoral fields of blood.
I still have my stuffed tiger! The skin horse will take him from MY COLD DEAD HANDS.
I am stanning hard for comforting versions of “The Lottery” or “The Necklace.”
Even “Bella Fleace gave a party. Her friends came, and they had ice cream and played a little lawn tennis” would be cool.
“Tom, Mary, and Frances decided on whim that they would combine their spare change and buy a lottery ticket. As they were about to head to the store, Susan came in
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said ‘I was doing the dishes. No sense leaving them for later.’
‘How wonderfully practical you are, Susan!’ Tom said ‘we are going to buy a lottery ticket, want to come?’
‘Sure!’ Susan said.
They all went to the corner market and bought the ticket and no one got stoned to death.”
“Mr Todd loved it when Tony read to him from the works of Charles Dickens.
‘I wish there were a way to make sure you read these to me every day,’ he said to Tony.
‘I promise I will come and read to you every day,’ said Tony, ‘and I am an old-fashioned English gentleman in a changing world and my word is my bond. We will read one more chapter and then I will go home to Brenda and John Andrew.’
‘I’m lucky to have a friend like you!’ said Mr. Todd.
Tony finished the chapter and went home to his loving, faithful wife and very much alive son. ‘That man really likes Dickens! Good thing Dickens wrote a lot of books!’ he thought as he got into his car.”
“The Man Who Liked Dickens”, by Evelyn Waugh
Tessie shifted nervously as the townspeople surrounded her. The circle tightened and she noticed the women reaching into their aprons. At an invisible signal, the townspeople released their barrage and Tessie could not avoid the hail of glitter, jellybeans and fluffy cashmere mittens. As Tessie deftly caught the treats in her handwoven basket she’d bought specially for the occasion, she was ever so glad she’d won The Lottery.
I’d be up for a happy “Ones Who Walked Away from Omelas,” too. “After a lovely vacation they were going to drive, but then decided to walk away from Omelas, waving to their new friends. There was definitely no abused child in any basement there, and everyone was happy at absolutely no one else’s expense.”
Rather than throw away twenty years of her life and her social status, she confessed the loss of the necklace to her friend.
“Oh, no biggie,” said friend. “It was totes fake. Wanna watch Real Housewives?” And they did.
I think Ayn Rand could make The Velveteen Rabbit a smashing success. He is secure in his realness and making plans to turn the family’s house into a train factory or something.
Rainsford was reluctant to agree at first, because it seemed impolite, but he was rather relieved not to have to play after his long trip. “Let’s play another game,” he suggested. “After all, there are so many other wonderful games to play here.”
SOME HOURS LATER
“Can’t you just, I don’t know, chase me into the woods and come after me with a rifle?” begged Rainsford.
“Be quiet,” snapped General Zaroff, “and make a lore check. We have to close this portal to The Abyss before Azathoth wakes up”
I love those board games but also relate to this comment.
Arkham Horror?
Correct!! Draw 3 clue tokens, Owlbrick!
😀
SOME MORE HOURS LATER
“Seriously, I’d rather be chased down and slaughtered than endure another moment of this game,” Rainsford insisted.
“Come on,” replied General Zaroff. “You still have armies in Kamchatka and Greenland. The game shouldn’t go on for more than another hour or so. And after this, Monopoly.”
Been there.
Ditto.
It me. That game is on point in terms of flavor because after an hour I know madness and very nearly might destroy the world to stop playing.
I have played that game. I was Rainsford.
And then Rainsford won at Yahtzee, THE END
“There are ways to colonize and destroy on this island without having to kill each other or, ugh, leave this room,” said the general, reaching for Settlers of Catan.
IDK, I think Settlers of Catan makes the story horrifying all over again.
Rainsford smirked to himself as he clicked the build option.
“Unfair!,” exclaimed General Zaroff. “The Great Library and ALSO the Hanging Gardens!”
Rainsford nodded, then covered a yawn with a polite wave of his hand. “Shall we continue this tomorrow?”
“Not yet,” replied the general. “Just one more turn….”
I LOVE the original version of The Most Dangerous Game. For some reason it doesn’t scare me.
I like this, but I also just want to say that the photo is the exact one used in my 8th grade literacy textbook and the coincidence just gives me fond feelings towards that class and this story, even though at the time I hated them both.
How about The Most Wicked Game? I’m thinking it would be something like bondage badminton. (You have only one arm free, but if you’re a real player, that should be more than sufficient.) Chris Isaak warbles soulfully in the background.
You had me at Chris Issak warbling soulfully.
The Specialty of the House was rare roast beef with Yorkshire Pudding, accompanied by perfectly roasted potatoes and new asparagus.
I once read something that seemed like a cute fluffy children’s book about a girl who became governess to three feral children that had been adopted by a rich man. And it was cute and fluffy at first. She taught them Latin and got them really into pony books. And then at the end it was STRONGLY implied that the only reason the rich man had taken in the children was so that he and his friends could eventually hunt them for sport and I have never recovered emotionally. It quite literally sickens me whenever I think about it.
Anyway, I don’t see how this story is comforting? It seems to imply that the General does hunt people for sport and just decided not to one time out of laziness? Like at least the original has the General die die die die die, which is what I feel should happen to all people who hunt other people.
Okay, I MUST know this story’s title!
It’s The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place series (unless there’s another book with a very similar plot). I only read book 1 (The Mysterious Howling) and was also horrified.
Yes, it was The Mysterious Howling. And I know there are more in the series but I will never read them because I want to avoid thinking about children being murder-hunted as much as I can now that the concept is in my brain and will haunt me forever, thanks book!
I feel moved to reassure you all that reading the rest of the series, so far, is perfectly safe. But boring. Oh, so boring. The author is afraid of plot and character growth. And tells the reader that the governess is special and clever, then never proves it. Usually the opposite. So the children are safe, in their very boring books.
How about a comforting version of The Yellow Wallpaper? I’m pretty sure I read that about the same time in my childhood as The Most Dangerous Game.
“This wallpaper is hideous,” John said. “Let’s strip it and paint the room before we try sleeping in here. How do you feel about a soft cloudy blue?”
Can we have the horrific version of Clifford, the Big Red Dog, please? My kid loves the cartoon and every time we watch it I think of how amazing Mallory’s version would be. Really all you have to do is acknowledge the fact that a dog that big (1) is, objectively, a monster, and if it picked you up with its gaping maw (as it frequently does with people), you would start screaming and never stop, (2) would wreak terrible, random, violent havoc any time it got excited, (3) must require enormous amounts of food/sacrifices, and (4) would take dumps the size of an adult rhino on a daily basis, and WHERE DOES THAT GO.
It's The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place series (unless there's another book with a very similar plot). I only read book 1 (The Mysterious Howling) and was also horrified.
You may be reassured to know that the idea of murder-hunting the children pretty much goes out the window in further books. Although it does go into the issue of mysterious paternity and possible affairs.