Things Only Mystery Party Veterans Understand (and Laugh About)
Posted by Dr. Bon Blossman on May 26th 2025
Because Once You’ve Been Murdered by a Vegan in a Feather Boa, You’re Never the Same
Hosting or playing in a murder mystery party is like stepping into a glamorous alternate universe—where everyone has a weird accent, someone definitely dies, and some players don't read their cards properly.
But mystery party newbies? They have no idea what's coming.
Veterans, on the other hand, know exactly what chaos awaits—and we laugh through the plot holes caused by Carl not sharing clues, the cheese dip stains, and the awkward moment when the victim forgets to, you know, die.
Here are the things only seasoned murder mystery party guests truly understand (and love to laugh at).
1. You Haven’t Lived Until 100 People Secretly Cheer for Your Murder
Being the victim in a murder mystery party sounds glamorous—like you’ll get a dramatic death scene and maybe applause. But five minutes in, you realize: you are the one person in a room of 30… 50… maybe 100 people that everyone low-key wants to off. And you can feel it. It’s in the side-eyes. It’s in the way someone hands you a drink like it might be poisoned. It’s in how Carol clutches her cheese cubes while staring you down like she’s already chosen your funeral playlist.
You’ll never know true fear until you make eye contact with Mildred from accounting and she tilts her head like a villain in a Netflix docuseries. You could cough during Round One and someone would whisper, “Is that it? Did they just die? Can we accuse now?”
Sure, other characters have drama—scandals, secrets, love triangles—but halfway through Round Two, it’s clear: everyone is hoping you’re the one who takes the dramatic nosedive into the fondue.
Mystery party veterans know: if you’re the victim, your clock is ticking, your fate is sealed, and your death scene better be fabulous—because no one’s mourning. They’re just waiting for the snacks to come back around.
2. When Your VIP Player Totally Misses They’re the Victim
If you’ve hosted enough games, it’s bound to happen: someone opens their Round Two envelope, sees the words “You are the victim,” and proceeds to inhale pigs in a blanket like it’s just another Tuesday potluck at the office. All while someone is definitely about to dig into Myrtle’s potato salad, which is brave, considering she chain-smokes while cooking and lets her cats do acrobatics across the countertops.
Meanwhile, the rest of the room is frozen—waiting to gasp dramatically and launch the investigation.
This is exactly why we do not assign the most pivotal role in a 15+ mystery party to the 12-year-old whose mom insisted he had “great stage presence” in the second-grade production of The Little Engine That Could.
(Spoiler: he couldn’t.)
3. Someone Always Starts Acting Guilty—Even Though No One Knows Who Did It
In My Mystery Party games, the killer isn’t told they’re the killer until the very end. So if someone starts getting cagey in Round Two, it’s not because they’re hiding a murder… they’re probably just trying to remember whether their character is supposed to have a French accent or a gambling addiction.
Then again, maybe they are acting suspicious on purpose—to throw everyone off the scent of the real killer. Which, statistically, is probably their cousin in the bedazzled cloak who hasn’t said a word and just wants more shrimp cocktail.
Mystery party veterans know: The most suspicious person in the room is simply wildly portraying an off-scripted red herring role and leaning so hard into “guilty vibes” that you start questioning everything—including the legitimacy of their fake mustache.
4. The Round Three Cards Say Who’s Next—But Carl’s Got Other Plans
Round Three cards literally spell out who goes next. In bold. Larger font. Possibly fireworks, neon arrows. But somehow, on occasion, someone gets so emotionally invested in returning to the bar—or aggressively stalking the charcuterie table—that they forget entirely.
Cue the awkward 45-second silence as the room stares around like it’s a lost-customer announcement at the DMV: “62? Number 62? ...No? She left? Cool.”
Then someone panics and yells, “Wait—what does your card say?! WHO GOES NEXT?!”
Yes, Carl. You skipped it. It was on your card. It said: "Lord Oliver is Next." It even had bold font and helpful words to guide you on exactly what to say. But sure—let’s all just spiral into chaos now.
5. Snacks are Both Fuel and a Fatal Flaw
Veterans understand the sacred balance: you must enjoy the shrimp dip—but never let the shrimp dip distract you from the murder investigation. Many promising sleuths have fallen victim to snack-based amnesia and distractions. Some even missed crucial clues while refilling their plates. Tragic.
6. At Some Point, the Screaming About Murder Gets So Intense that the Neighbors Consider Calling 911
You know the game’s going well when someone yells, “THERE'S A DEAD BODY IN THE KITCHEN!” and five other people immediately start shouting over each other about motives, poison, and who touched the cheese knife last.
From the outside? It sounds like a felony is actively in progress.
Mystery party veterans know: murder mystery parties are one noise complaint away from a SWAT team, especially when your cousin Stan decides to give his closing accusation like he’s auditioning for Law & Order: Backyard Unit. Just remember to tell the neighbors about your upcoming game. And maybe don’t leave your windows open.
7. Costumes Are a Vibe—But They Will Betray You
Mystery party veterans know that feather boas shed everywhere, fake mustaches don’t stay on, cheap costume shoes hurt, and monocles will absolutely pop out the moment you're asked to read anything. Still, you'll come dressed to impress, even if you lose an earring in the guacamole or your chestnut ringlets are poking out of your blonde flapper wig by round two.
8. Round Three Confessions Are Either Oscar-Worthy or Absolute Chaos
By the final round, it’s all or nothing. You’ve either got someone delivering a full-blown dramatic monologue—“Yes, I poisoned the eclairs! And I’d do it again!”—or you’ve got Becky, who reads her card… then spirals into a full identity crisis.
“Wait. I… I’m the murderer?”
Yes, Becky. It’s literally on the card. In bold. With your name. This is not the time for your internal conflict arc. Just read the script and act surprised so the host can get their Instagram photo before the charcuterie curls.
Mystery party veterans know: when it’s confession time, you’re either winning an imaginary Emmy—or accidentally ruining the climax because you were checking your DMs on social media instead of mingling during the round two investigation.
9. A Clue Goblin Hoards a Clue Like a Disney Villain
The player instructions could not be more precise: share your clues. That’s literally the point. And yet… every now and then, someone clutches their clue like it’s the final horcrux.
Instead of saying, “Oh, I overheard Blair threatening to sabotage the sailboat,” they sit there silently, grinning like a cartoon villain watching everyone struggle to finish a puzzle—knowing full well they’re holding the corner piece.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group is spiraling. Plotlines collapse. Timelines unravel. Someone accuses the caterer who isn't even playing the game. And the clue-hoarder finally goes, “Oh… was I supposed to say that?”
Mystery party veterans know: there’s always one. And we’re watching you, Clue Goblin. Always.
10. You’re Already Plotting the Next Party Before the Murderer Confesses
Before you've even collected the mystery investigation cards, you’re already planning your next character voice, eyeing a cape on Etsy, and wondering if your next character role should be an alpaca breeder with a dark past or a germaphobic surgeon.
Once you’re a mystery party veteran, there's no going back. You live for the drama. You crave the scandal. You hoard accessories like it’s a theatrical apocalypse.
You’re One of Us Now
If you’ve laughed at any of this, you’ve officially joined the ranks of the mystery party elite. You know the chaos. You thrive in it. And you wouldn’t change a thing.
Well, okay—maybe assign the victim role a little more carefully next time and give Carl an optional player role because he doesn't know how to share clues or follow instructions.
Need a new game? Looking to host your own night of beautiful nonsense?
Check out our mystery party kits—packed with plot twists, laughter, and shrimp-dip compatible timelines.