Pop Goes the Weasel rang through the dark, damp room. Cool light shone down from spotlights hanging from the ceiling, focused solely on us, the contestants, chained to the floor, ready for the biggest Hot Potato match of our lives. The song gave off a creepy vibe that matched the room itself. The walls and floor were concrete, and they were wet, with a metal grate in the middle of our circle, a drain of some kind. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the occasional drip from the grate down into the darkness below.

  This was life or death. My mind filled in the blanks. The room was wet because it was regularly soaked down to wash away the blood and stink of dead bodies. The room wasn't designed for entertainment or the spotlight of a televised event. The room was designed with a very specific purpose, to run Death Matches cleanly and efficiently, while invoking appropriate dread in those participating.

  Stocky yelped, but unfortunately he didn't drop the potato when it fired up and started to singe his fingers.

  His first throw was important. He had time to think about it, just like all of us, but he would make the first move. What would it be? Who would he target?

  I was surprised when he tossed the potato to Dirty Blonde. She was the best dressed along with Buzz Cut. She was slim, in decent shape. She looked capable. Not the weakest but not the strongest. I wondered if Stocky was just targeting her because she was a woman. He looked like the kind of guy who would do that. I could see him needing sexual harassment training.

  Dirty Blonde caught the potato easily. What would she do? Just like the first throw, the second throw would say a lot. Would she send the potato to someone new, indicating her preferred target, or would she reverse the targeting and toss it back to Stocky? She tossed it back to Stocky.

  Stocky groaned in the manner of Ugh, you stupid bitch. Of course you would throw it back to me. I could tell he wanted to curse at her and then pronounce to the rest of us that we should all target that bitch, but he managed to keep himself from speaking. He caught the potato and promptly tossed it back at Dirty Blonde. This showed his commitment to getting her out of the match.

  Again I wondered at why. Did he know her? Perhaps he thought targeting someone in the middle of the pack would make it clear to the stronger players that they would be safe, that together they could pick off the weaker ones, starting in the middle. It would make subsequent rounds easier as they ganged up on the weaker players.

  Dirty Blonde caught the potato again, and this time, she made her second key move of the match. She did not toss it back to Stocky. Instead of targeting Stocky again, she gave the potato to someone new as a request for someone to team up with her. Her second throw wasn't really to get that person out of the match. The purpose was to find an ally.

  If the recipient tossed it at Stocky to target him, then she would have found a partner. Stocky would then throw it to one of the others to try to find a partner himself. This rarely worked. Once two people teamed up, a third and fourth had no reason to deviate. But if the person she tossed the potato to instead tossed it back to her, then it was clear that they had chosen sides and she was the target. It was hard to recover from that. Usually the second person to touch the potato (the first person to make a catch), which in this case was Dirty Blonde, had the most risk.

  Dirty Blonde had to choose wisely. She needed someone who would target Stocky instead of herself. She chose Bun Bun, apparently going for a gender team-up, women against men. I could see her brain trying to tell Bun Bun, Just look at the man. He's clearly a misogynist.

  But Bun Bun wasn't having any of that. There were four males and two females. Even if they took out Stocky together, the remaining men might jump on that dynamic to take the two of them out. Instead of pairing with Dirty Blonde, Bun Bun tossed the potato back at her.

  "Shit!" Dirty Blonde cursed.

  I caught my breath. They had said no talking.

  I assumed that they meant no talking to the other players, but fine to curse or talk to yourself. We might even be allowed to talk to another player as long as it didn't signal a strategy. Otherwise, people would just be yelling out their plans to one another, and that would spoil the fun. But I didn't know for sure how to interpret the no talking instruction, so just to be on the safe side, I had decided that I wouldn't say anything at all. Do you know how hard that is for me!?!

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  Dirty Blonde caught the potato and briefly shut her eyes and braced herself. She too wasn't sure if she had violated the rules. I could hear the burning of her skin as she held it just a moment longer than one normally does. When nothing happened, she quickly tossed it again, this time to me.

  I really didn't want to be a part of the first round, or any round but the finals. Who to toss it to next was a pretty simple decision for me, but it gave everyone an opportunity to see how I would play. First impressions were important.

  I could toss it to Stocky. This would signal to Bun Bun that I wasn't going to join up with them, that I would stand up for Dirty Blonde. This would be a powerful play. It would force Bun Bun to make a decision. Would she go two on two teaming up with Stocky, or would she abandon him and join us to take him out? When you can take the easy way out, it's a sensible play. She would probably flip on him and join us. While safe, it would tell the other players that she was unreliable and would predictably take the best immediate outcome for herself instead of playing the long game and forming solid alliances.

  I could toss it back to Dirty Blonde. Everyone expected me to do that. It would signal to the entire group that we were all going to target Dirty Blonde. It essentially ended discussion of who would be eliminated. But if Dirty Blonde survived the first round, the group would usually continue to target her. Groupthink is powerful. Whether round 1, 2, or 3, eventually we would take down Dirty Blonde, and no one needed to waste energy making decisions. Catch it and throw it to Dirty Blonde. Repeat. Repeat.

  I could toss it to Bun Bun. This would also signal that I wasn't going to play their game, that I wouldn't target Dirty Blonde. Then Bun Bun could decide how she wanted to play it. If she tossed it back at me, this would give Dirty Blonde an opportunity to join in and target me. If she tossed it to Stocky, then I would know she had flipped and joined Dirty Blonde and I.

  That left Buzz Cut or Jacket Man. Tossing it to them would just cause confusion, and if one of them tossed it back to me, I would probably be the immediate target of everyone.

  I decided Bun Bun would be most likely to flip sides. I didn't trust Stocky. He would probably flip too, but his angry faces toward Dirty Blonde outweighed the degree to which I thought Bun Bun would remain loyal to Stocky. I had to put faith in Dirty Blonde to stick with me, just like I did in taking the target away from her.

  So I really had two choices. Target Stocky (trust Dirty Blonde, believe Bun Bun would flip) or target Dirty Blonde (encourage everyone to target her).

  I wanted Stocky gone. Instead of the easy play of focusing on Dirty Blonde, I tossed it to Stocky. It was a risky move, but a power play. It would show that I wouldn't be bullied or manipulated, that I would take risks to get what I wanted.

  The next toss was probably the most important. Stocky could try to switch the target to me, encouraging Dirty Blonde to flip. He could toss it to Dirty Blonde, as if to say, Join us or die. If she tossed it to me, I would be the new target. He could toss it to Buzz Cut or Jacket Man, as if to say, One of you decide which team wins. He could toss it to Bun Bun to ask, You pick the target, and I'll follow suit.

  The creepy music continued to play, moving into another verse.

  All around the cobbler's bench,

  The monkey chased the weasel,

  The monkey thought it was all in fun,

  Pop goes the weasel!

  Stocky tossed the potato to Dirty Blonde!

  He was asking her to pivot and target me. Would she? After I stepped in to redirect attention away from her?

  Dirty Blonde caught the potato. This was a defining moment for her. Would she flip on me? Would she trust that Bun Bun would flip sides and target Stocky?

  My heart sank as the started tossing it to me. So she was going to join Stocky and Bun Bun. I was screwed. The music had gone on long enough that we were all on edge.

  It would be any minute now, for sure.

  I caught the potato, wondering where to go next. If they were all going to target me, then I would just focus on the weakest of them or the one I hated most. Bun Bun's hair was still up in her bun, so I leaned into my hatred and tossed the potato to Stocky.

  Half a pound of treacle,

  He caught it.

  That's the way the money goes,

  My knees were shaking. The music would stop any moment now. Fuck!

  Stocky tossed it toward me.

  "Yes! We got you!" someone shouted. Dirty Blonde couldn't stop herself from celebrating the shift in power. It was her, Stocky, and Bun Bun versus me.

  Boom!!!

  The sound pounded my ears and a bright light flashed, blinding me. I failed to catch the potato, fumbling it. I heard it thud to the floor, and I cowered, dropping to my knees with my arms over my head.

  I waited.

  Nothing happened to me. I heard gasps in the room. What had just happened? I opened my eyes, slowly standing up.

  Dirty Blonde was in a heap next to me. A thick shotgun blast had ripped through her upper torso, blowing through her lower neck and parts of her jaw, mostly severing her head from her body. I shivered as I watched her eyes flicker back and forth. I wondered if her final thoughts, as her mind faded, were, Where's the potato? Where is it? I have to catch it?

  And then her eyes went still.

  Dirty Blonde lost round 1.