Round 3:
"Dare!" Micky shouted without being asked.
"You know that jar in the fridge?" Davy drawled.
"You mean the one that's been there since we moved in?"
"Yep, that's the one. I want you to eat the contents," Davy rested his chin in his hand.
"But I don't know what's in there and how long it's been there," Micky said warily.
"You can always pass…" Davy offered.
"Never!" Micky yelled jumping up and grabbing the jar from the fridge. He downed the contents quickly while holding his nose. "That wasn't so bad."
"You sure about that? You sure it wasn't completely disgusting and made you sick? You look a little green now," Davy pressed staring down Micky.
Micky held on to his stomach and belched. "No, I'm focused on your turn now."
"Truth, go ahead do your worst."
"Nope, I'm not wasting this turn on trying to pick apart your love life," Micky said deep in thought.
"We could…" Peter began suggesting before Micky covered his mouth.
"Don't just go throwing things around all willy nilly. This is war with the British."
"What British? I'm from the South," Davy enunciated.
"Rate your looks on a one to ten scale with ten being the highest," Micky asked satisfied.
"Really? That's your worst? Fine, if you insist. Eight."
"Only an eight?" Peter questioned looking befuddled.
"Yeah, why not a ten?" Micky continued.
"I'm sorry that…"
"…wasn't the question," Mike, Micky, and Peter said in unison.
"I'm beginning to like this game," Davy stated leaning against the couch with his arms resting behind his head.
"Let's keep this thing going. Peter, your turn," Mike hurried them along.
"Truth."
"You play the dummy all time, have you ever played the dummy even when you knew what was going on?" Davy jumped in.
Peter's eyes widened in fear. "Um…"
"What's the matter?" Micky inquired fiendishly. "Lookin' to pass?"
Peter sighed. "No. Here it goes…I knew that Mr. Zero was the devil."
"What?!" Mike exploded.
Peter slunk back. "Yeah, um I knew it when I came into the shop; you know mysterious music store just pops up out of nowhere. There's no other reasonable explanation."
"Then why sign the contract?" Mike pushed further, irritation dripping in every word.
"I thought he would be so preoccupied that he would forget and I would still have the harp."
"So, you tried to cheat the devil?" Micky needed clarification.
"Basically."
"And I offered to take your place," Davy shook his head in disbelief.
"Okay, Mike's turn," Peter said changing the subject.
"This ain't over, Shotgun. We are going to talk about this later," Mike warned. "Truth."
"Oh boy," Micky grinned. "What did you get arrested for?"
"Pass."
"What? Really?" Davy wondered aloud.
"Yeah, you guys don't need to know about my checkered past."
"It must have been really bad. Worse than my devil transgression."
"I wouldn't go that far," Mike wagged a finger in Peter's direction which caused Peter to close his mouth abruptly.
"Things are getting interesting…" Micky said excitedly. "You know what that means Mike, you have to answer or do everything else that comes your way. And since you passed the truth now you have to do the dare."
Mike rolled his eyes. "Fine. Are you going to draw on my face too or make me eat something disgusting?"
"Oh, no no no, Michael. Nothing quite so simple," Micky taunted. "You have to shave something."
"Shave something?" Peter looked confused.
"Yes, Mike is a very hairy individual and I think it would be helpful to shed some of that winter coat."
"Are you insane?" Mike practically shouted.
Micky shrugged. "Probably. Now what should it be…One sideburn?"
"No man, you can't do something that cruel," Davy said.
"Eyebrow?"
"He has to walk around looking like that," Peter defended Mike.
"You guys are no fun. Okay, shave your left forearm."
"This is ridiculous," Mike complained.
"I'm not the one who passed," Micky said. "Don't forget around the wrist that might be tricky."
Mike trudged into the bathroom.
Micky cracked his knuckles. "We're just getting warmed up."