A Twist: Pick Lisa

“I can pick anyone I want?” you ask, and dress shirt guy nods.

“Sure thing, dude. What’s your heart telling you?”

“Then Lisa, get up here. This is payback for volunteering me,” you call out.

You point at your sister, and all eyes suddenly shift to her. Lisa folds her arms indignantly, giving you a you will die look, but as the crowd starts cheering for her, reluctantly, she starts moving. You help her onto the stage, to much applause.

“There we go, looks like we’ve got our contestants. Are both of you ready?” dress shirt guy asks, and you both nod. “Alright. This last game is called ‘Sex is Like…’. Before we get going, I need a topic from the crowd. Shout out a noun, anything that comes to mind!” There’s a brief pause, and then a bunch of people call out a jumble of words. “Did I hear jazz? Now that should be a fun one. Here’s how it’ll work. Alex and Lisa, you’ll have three minutes between the two of you to win over the audience. On your turn, you’ll need to come up with a quick quip to complete the sentence ‘Sex is like tennis… The more risqué the better! Once time’s up, the audience will vote and we’ll see who’s the wittiest of ‘em all!”

There’s a round of applause and cheering, to which dress shirt guy smiles and bows.

“Now, without further ado… Lisa, ladies first,” he says, pointing at your sister.

She’s always been sharp, and it takes her only a split second to step up, ready with a line.

“Sex is like jazz,” she says. “It’s better when it’s smooth, but sometimes, you’ve got to improvise.”

There’s laughter and applause. Dress shirt guy chuckles and says: “We’re all about improv here! Alex, show us what you got.”

With the attention suddenly cast on you, you scramble for a line, when one suddenly strikes you.

“Sex is like jazz,” you say. “If you can’t get in rhythm, definitely don’t go double time.”

That draws more laughs and applause. Dress shirt guy nods appreciatively and points to Lisa, who’s already ready with her next line.

“Timing is everything,” she agrees. “Sex is like jazz… sometimes, the accompaniment comes in late, and all you want is the solo.”

“Oof… harsh,” dress guy says, making the stank face. “Remember to be punctual, guys! Speaking of, we’re right on time for you Alex.”

You’re ready to chime in with your next line.

“Sex is like jazz,” you say. “If it’s starting to feel stale, spice it up with some kinky cord progressions.”

That draws more laughs and a couple of yelps. Dress shirt guy nods appreciatively and says: “Whoo, spicy! Lisa, take it away.”

“Sex is like jazz,” she says. “If you press the right buttons, they’ll make funny sounds.”

You hit her instantly with your follow-up: “Sex is like jazz… if you’ve got performance anxiety, just blow harder!”

The crowd’s getting into it now, the cheers after each line in the repartee growing in volume, and dress shirt guy only has to point at each of you to keep the flow going.

“Sex is like jazz,” Lisa says. “Some like to swing, some like to scat, but I’m a plain and simple girl—just give me the hard bop.”

That crowd roars their approval, and you step up, not to be outdone.

“Sex is like jazz,” you say. “When I spy a sweet, sweet bass, you can bet I’ll be in that pocket.”

The latest exchange gets the crowd real amped up now, hooting and hollering, and dress shirt guy applauds. “Wow, it is getting hot in here,” he says, mock fanning himself. “Lisa, can you top that?”

“Sex is like jazz…Bill Clinton went a bit overboard with his sax obsession,” she smiles, and the cheeky comment gets her the loudest adulations of the night.

Everybody glances at you, and you dig deep, searching for one last line. In the blink of an eye, it comes to you.

“Sex is like jazz… you never want to be caught in A minorrrr,” you say, dragging out that last word like Kendrick.

You dust your hands off and the crowd jumps to their feet, whooping and cheering, just as the timer for three minutes goes off.

“Now that was a battle between two heavyweights,” dress shirt guy says, clapping appreciatively. “Good work, you two. Sadly, we’ve got to pick a winner for the night. We’re going to do a vote by voice, so cheer if you liked Lisa more!”

The response is loud and clear, wolf-whistles and shouts of approval sounding across the audience, filling the entire bar with its resonance. But when dress shirt guy next calls “Cheer if you liked Alex more!”, the response is just as overwhelming. You glance at Lisa, the two of you drinking in the applause and approval, and she curtsies as you take a bow.

Dress shirt guy glances between the two of you, shaking his head incredulously. “Folks, I know I said we’d crown a winner, but tonight… man, you guys got a real treat. How can I pick? You all shouted just as loud for both of our contestants. And you know what? That’s the way it’ll be! Give it up for your well deserved co-champions, Lisa and Alex!”

Lisa +5