The captain stood at the head of the table, tapped his wine glass three times with a silver spoon, and smiled as the dinner guests took a break from their polite conversations.
“Thank you,” he said. “I just want to say how happy we are to have you on our Goldenrod Cruise Lines Pickleball Adventure. I know tomorrow is a big day with our competition beginning in the morning, and of course we’ll crown our champion at the end of the evening.
“So please … eat, drink – but not too much because we’ll be getting an early start – and enjoy yourself. We want this to be an experience of a lifetime for you all.”
The pickleball cruise drew an older crowd, and one not afraid to spend money. While it included ocean views and standard tourist stops typical of ocean journeys, it was designed for people who took the sport seriously.
And few took it more seriously than Timothy and Kathleen Miasma.
To say the pair were popular players in their local pickleball club in Seaside, Florida, would be a falsehood. The retired pharmaceuticals executives were, in fact, reviled.
Both had tempers that would manifest in uncomfortable and often inexcusable ways, and they had plenty of smashed paddles and torn nets to show for it. Being sore losers was compounded by the fact that neither were very good players; when it was competition time, they were among the first to exit.
But their wealth helped build facilities and courts, and even funded a pavilion (called the Timothy and Kathleen Miasma Pavilion, of course) that made all-weather play possible. The joke was that they were a “necessary evil.”
This time, though, they were taking their talents to the sea, and had made it known that they intended to be crowned Goldenrod Cruise Lines Pickleball Adventure champions.
They were paired against Bob and Betty Shipley in the first round of competition, and made a point to seek them out after leaving their dinner plates untouched.
“My wife and I look forward to beating you tomorrow,” Timothy said to the Shipleys, who seemed caught off guard by the boast. “This is a business trip for us, and you’re the first order of business. Winning is all that matters.”
It didn’t take long for the other passengers to realize the Miasmas were not the “fun couple” of the cruise, and any impromptu mini-social groups that formed made sure to exclude them.
As the drinking and feasting wound down, Timothy and Kathleen prepared to make their way back to the cabin – but not before one final pronouncement.
“This time tomorrow night,” Kathleen bellowed, “we will stand alone as champions. Mark my words.”
The Miasmas were up at dawn on tournament day, and after a leisurely early morning, they made their way to the courts on the main deck.
Trophies for first, second and third place were already set up on a table situated near center court, as well as ribbons that would be handed out to all the participants.
But while Timothy and Kathleen were already there when tournament officials arrived, none of the other players were anywhere in sight. And five minutes before the preliminary matches were scheduled to begin, the courts were empty except for the couple who had guaranteed victory the night before.
“Excuse me,” Timothy said, getting the attention of one of the tourney directors, Jan Edwards. “According to the rules, if the players don’t show up on their assigned court by the official start time, they have to forfeit the match. Well, the official start time will come and go soon and if the Shipleys aren’t here, we advance.
“Those are the rules.”
Edwards was more concerned with the complete lack of competitors than she was with the Miasmas’ tardy foes, but nodded in agreement.
“That’s correct,” she said. “But I think we have bigger problems than that. It’s not just the Shipleys who are late, so is everyone else – besides you. Something isn’t right.”
A half hour went by before officials noticed panicked waves from members of the ship’s crew. They scurried over to see what the excitement was about while the Miasmas looked on. Once the commotion settled, Edwards – following a subdued conversation with the ship’s captain – made her way towards them.
“I’m afraid I have some horrible news,” she said. “All of the rest of the competitors are dead. They were found dead in their cabins … every one of them.”
Timothy looked at the official with a gleam in his eye.
“Well,” he said. “We win the tournament.”
Edwards gazed at him in disbelief.
“There are over 30 people dead, sir,” she said, gritting her teeth as she choked out the sentence. “I don’t think anyone is thinking about pickleball championships right now.”
Kathleen walked over to the first-place trophy, grabbed it, and held it in front of her.
“I said we’d stand alone as champions,” she shouted. “And here we are.”
The victorious couple knew that in just a few days they’d be back in Seaside, and their trophy would no doubt be the envy of every other member of their club. They shared a quick kiss and then walked away with their hardware, discreetly tossing the flask of poison overboard.
I liked your choice of cruise lines.
You found the Easter Egg, young man.
The Miasmas would totally own a place in Seaside, at least until the HOA figured out a way to make them move.