"The rules of the game are simple," Abed began. "We each have a rescue die. Depending on what space the player lands on (Danger, Jungle, Rhino, Wait For 5 or 8), we all roll our rescue dice to try and save them. If we fail, we add a doomsday card to the grid. Fill up the doomsday grid, and we all lose. Be the first to reach the game board center, and yell "Jumanji!" And you win."
"Do any of us actually 'win' here?" Jeff took another swig of beer.
"And how exactly do we free the ol' redskins, Ay-bed?" Pierce asked.
"Could you be any more offensive if you tried?" Britta rolled her eyes.
"Three," Jeff said, looking at his watch.
"What? I just want to bring them some peace after all this time..." Pierce looked offended.
"Two."
"Aww," Annie and Shirley chimed.
"One."
"You know, I'm offended you think I'm racist against Native Americans just because of my family history. My fourth wife was 1/4 Navajo."
Britta looked a little ashamed.
"Of course, she was also 3/4 regular hoe..."
"There it is," Jeff relaxed back onto the couch and put his feet up.
"The person who suggests the game goes first," Abed refocused the conversation. "That's Troy."
Troy palmed the die and then looked at Abed. "You sure this is a good idea?"
"It's a great idea."
30 minutes of game play and four arguments later...
"Are you OK, Brit-ta?" Shirley trilled, as Britta rubbed her neck and looked at the window behind her for the third time that night.
"What? Yeah. I just keep getting this feeling that we're being watched."
"We aaaare," Abed mirrored Britta's flutter fingers from earlier.
"Shut up, Abed. I'm serious."
"It's your roll Annie," Troy passed her the die.
She rolled a 1 and moved her pawn.
"A blank space! Jungle dangers threaten you." Abed said, handing her a danger card from the drawpile. "Put it under the decoder, and tell us what symbol you got."
"It's an open door," Annie said.
"Guys!" Britta threw her hands up in the air. "Nobody heard that?"
"Sorry, that was me," Pierce chuckled, embarrassed. "Chinese food makes me gassy."
Troy grimaced.
"I didn't hear anything," Shirley said sweetly.
"Was it a Native American war cry?" Jeff joked.
"This feels like Abed's Halloween story from last year. It must be an escaped mental patient coming to kill us all!" Annie exclaimed dramatically. "Where's the radio?"
Troy started humming Daybreak, "Mm mm mm mm mmmm mm. Mm mm mm mm mm."
They all joined in, "Mm mm mm mm mmmm mm. Mm mm mm mmm mmmmm."
Jeff snorted into his drink. He and Annie leaned around Shirley to grin at each other. Shirley glared at both of them.
"There!" Britta shouted, and jumped up to look out the window. "You must have heard that one."
"Actually, yeah," Troy got serious fast. "I did hear that."
"I told you! There's someone out there!"
"It's happening," Abed spoke with an air of both awe and authority. "Annie, get your gun. But remember, we don't shoot first. This is the time for peace negotiations, people! We want to save their souls, not damn ourselves."
CRASH! The house shook, and everyone jumped to their feet with a shout.
Troy danced around, shaking his arms and whimpering. Abed – his grin replaced with wide-eyed shock – grabbed the game instruction manual and started speed reading.
"Ohh looord, what have we dooone?" Shirley crossed herself frantically.
"I'm too young to die!" Pierce cried out.
"That's debatable." Jeff couldn't resist the throwaway jab.
They heard scuffling around the corner of the house.
"JEFF!" Annie implored. "Do something!"
He grabbed a lamp off the side table and threw open the front door, running onto the porch with Pierce on his tail. Silence. Jeff stepped down onto the grass, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and turned on the flashlight. There looked like some kind of figure hurrying away into the trees, but he couldn't make it out.
"I'm right behind you!" Pierce called, still on the porch with no intention of moving.
Peeking around the corner, Jeff saw the trash cans uncovered and laying on their sides, one leaning against the outer wall of the house. Propping them upright again, he shined the light on the ground around the area. The dirt looked disturbed, but there weren't any paw prints or... wait. A few feet away, he knelt on the ground to get a closer look. A footprint. Shit.
Jeff flashed the light around again toward the woods, the field, and the path to the lake. All was quiet. But the hairs on the back of his neck tingled. Following the sensation, he turned around to see everyone huddled against the window, looking out at him.
He brushed off the eeriness, gave a thumbs up, and headed back into the cabin.
"Something got into the trash cans," Jeff announced, locking the door securely behind him. "It was probably just a raccoon."
"Or a mountain lion. My aunt always said there are a bunch of those up here."
"It wasn't a mountain lion, Troy. I didn't see any big paw prints." Everyone looked hesitant. "Guys, we're fine."
"That's right, whatever it was, Jeffrey and I scared it off," Pierce said confidently. Jeff scowled.
"I'll tell you what it was. It was Jesus telling me to stop acting foolish and get to bed." Shirley disappeared down the hallway.
"Yeah, I think I'm done with this game," Britta agreed.
"Wait," Abed all but begged. "If nobody yells 'Jumanji,' the game is incomplete, and we could still get sucked into the jungle while we sleep!"
"JUMANJI!" Pierce shouted.
"I don't think it works like that..." Abed flipped through the manual again.
Annie, Troy, and Britta started putting the game away and cleaning up the living room. Jeff pulled Pierce off to the side.
"Pierce, I saw a footprint by the trash cans. Are there any other cabins around here?"
"Sure, there are plenty of lake houses. Not right here," he added proudly. "We've got quite a bit of land..."
"It could have been some kids messing around then."
"What? You saw someone outside?" He hadn't noticed Annie sidle up on their conversation.
"No, no..." Jeff started. "...Maybe. There was one footprint around the side of the house."
Annie looked at the window, concerned.
"Seriously, don't worry about it. We were out there a lot today, I'm sure it's one of ours."
Abed passed by, "Or..."
"Don't be a villain, Robin Williams."
Jeff had escaped to his room to begin his extensive nighttime skin care routine, while everyone finished cleaning up from the evening.
Pushing thoughts of intruders from his mind and debating whether Annie actually knew how to use her gun, he padded back out of the en-suite bathroom. And stopped short. On the other side of the room was Annie, facing away from him. He caught a glimpse of the porcelain skin on her lower back and waist as she slipped a night shirt over her head. His stomach flipped.
"Annie," he said slowly. "What are you doing?"
She whirled around and sputtered a little. Jeff was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing just a dark pair of sweatpants. He stifled a grin.
"Sorry, I knocked, but you were in the bathroom." She quickly composed herself. "I have to sleep in here tonight, if that's OK... Shirley's kids fell asleep in Britta's and my room. Abed has the couch, and Britta and Troy took the air mattress."
"Britta's sleeping with Troy?" Jeff yanked the door open and peaked out into the living room.
"I'm sure it'll all be sorted out tomorrow. But between staying with Pierce or you, this was kind of the obvious choice."
"Right. Well, you take the bed. I'll just – I can sleep on the deck chair."
"Jeff, no way! You're not sleeping outside when there might be... something out there."
Jeff glanced sideways at the bed. "I'll sleep in my car."
"No! This is fine, really," she said, stepping forward and touching his arm with a soft smile. "Honestly, I'll feel safer if you're here."
They locked eyes for a moment.
Jeff abruptly turned and walked out the door. "I have to get some water."
He hurried into the dim kitchen. Annie could have asked Shirley to move the boys. Or she could have taken the couch instead of Abed. But she was in his room. With the small bed. And the thin pajamas. Jeff drank the water in one gulp and set the glass down on the counter a little harder than he intended to. Abed glared at him over the back of the couch.
Oops. Get a freaking grip, Winger.
By the time he headed back into the bedroom, the lights were off, and he could just make out Annie's outline under the blankets. He threw a T-shirt on and slid in too, flat on his back, as close to the edge (and as far away from Annie) as he could get. It wasn't far enough. He could still feel her legs fidgeting beside him.
This is fine.
"It was probably just a raccoon, right?"
Annie's back was to him but her voice lilted through the dark, and Jeff turned his head to face her. Her hair flared out on the pillow toward him. He could smell it. Eucalyptus?
Yeah, this is fine.
"Nah, it was definitely restless Native American spirits."
"Jeff!" Her hand flew back to swat his chest, like she always did. But she could barely reach at this angle, and her fingers instead trailed lightly down his side before pulling away.
Mhmm, yep, all fine.
"You're letting the game get to you. It's just Abed being Abed. You must know that."
"I know that, intellectually. He's looking for an escape. We all are. But stranger things have happened. No one would have thought that illegally breaking into Greendale to rescue the Dean from a deranged Dictator Chang and his army of child soldiers would be real either. But that's become, like, an average Thursday for us."
"Oddly true. Well, as Troy said, if it all goes south, I've got your back. But you have to have mine, too. Sound good?"
He could somehow feel her smile.
"Good night, Jeff."
It kind of was.
Note: I hope you're enjoying the "Supernatural Ecology" Series! Writing a true ensemble story is proving to be an incredibly fun challenge, and I'm so happy to share it with you as it unfolds! Leave me some comments below to let me know what you think! :)