You go for the worst thing you can think of

You mull it over to yourself for a bit before deciding to skip through all of the bullshit strip dares and get to reason this game exists.

"Miranda, I want you to spell ICUP."

A wave of dread passes through the room as Miranda’s face drops from one of excited curiosity to one of despair and hopelessness. You think you hear Nicole quietly try to stifle a whimpering sob of terror but whipping your head back with eyes smouldering like lasers to silence the discontent you can see that it was Tom crying to himself like a little bitch.

"W-we can t-t-talk this out r-right, John," shakily squeaks out Miranda, tears of animalistic fear welling up in the corners of her eyes "there's g-gotta be something else you want r-right?"

Sarah is sitting in a puddle fear piss or pussy juice, you can never tell with the kinky little shit, while Matt fainted out of consciousness a while ago, Tom using his limp form as a pillow to hide his grief from the rest of the group.

"I. Said Spell ICUP " you say plainly yet firmly even as her hands grasp limply to the bottom of her shirt, half heartedly trying to tempt you out of it, despite her face telling you she's resigned herself to her fate.

"I... c-c... u, p," she finally chokes out as takes a hard blink to clear her watery eyes.

You've done it. You won the game of dares.