Like Chess, or Othello, ManTrap™ is a game that takes moments to learn, but a lifetime to master. This is especially true when the game is played by strategians, like Husband, or derby gals, like me.
GAME PLAY
The goal of ManTrap™ is to pin your man to the bed, by any means
necessary.
A game of ManTrap™ sneaks up on you. What seems like a sweet hug
between husband and wife can turn into a shoving fight to the mattresses. Hone
your reflexes, and in the immortal words of Mad Eye Moody (or rather, Barty
Crouch, Jr.): CONSTANT VIGILANCE.
APPAREL/EQUIPMENT
Hardwood floors and sock feet work to your advantage. Catch
your man wearing socks on a hardwood floor, and half the work is done for you.
Just be sure to leave your own socks behind; the disadvantage
works both ways.
COUNTER-MEASURES
ManTrap™ truly evolves over time. As you level up your own
skill set, your opponent does the same. You develop new strategies, new
measures to ensure your success. Your opponent learns to counter them. And the Chess match
begins.
Leverage
I bend
my knees, get low, lean into my man, and brace a foot on the ground. As I do, I visualize
myself as a large boulder, an immovable force of nature.
Counter-Measure: Husband
counters; he pushes my arms up above his shoulders. Pinning my arms at this
height keeps me from lowering my center of mass. Tricksy.
Counter-Counter-Measure:
To resist, I keep my arms low and minimize his ability to subvert them. I think
about the gap between my side and my arms; then close it.
Bed ninja rolls
Once
Husband has been pushed into the bedroom, he senses defeat is imminent. His
last-ditch effort, his Hail Mary pass, is the Ninja Roll. He disengages from my
loving embrace, races into the room, and jumps on the bed, hoping I will give
chase. Once he has me on the side of the bed, ready to follow him, he Rolls, his
feet tucked close to his body and his knees creating an L with his legs. Ninja
Husband rolls from one side to the other and hops off the opposite end of the
bed. (Nine points on the dismount from the Canadian judge, only 6 from the
Russian judge.) The confusion of the direction change and the heat of the chase
buy him a few extra seconds to make a run for the door.
Counter-measure: Fool
me once, shame on me; fool me twice…well, you know. Now, when Husband breaks
away and makes a run for the bed, I do not give chase. Instead, I center myself
between the door and the bed. Like a fucking athlete, I widen my stance, bend
my knees, keep my weight on my toes, shifting lightly from one foot to the
other. I am a tiger, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. My prey is
trapped. Until…
Level UP: +1 to Magic
Socks spell
Husband was trapped on the bed, rolling back and forth on
his back. Slowly, without so much as a change in expression or break in eye
contact, he reached down and pulled first one sock, then the other, off his
feet. With a faint glint of mischief in his eyes, he began balling up the
socks and passing them from one hand to the other. “What are you doing?” I
asked.
“Charging up a spell.”
My attention and readiness did not waver. When he
rolled off one side of the bed and ran toward me, I was ready. But then. Then, Husband
hurled the socks at my face and yelled, “Magic Socks!”
Even so, my jungle cat instincts did not let him pass. As he rushed
forward, I stepped into him and pinned him to my armoire. “Oh noooooo!” he
cried, dismayed at his surprising defeat.
With my Husband still pinned, I laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed. I doubled over with the laughter.
Seeing his chance, Husband spun and danced away, crying “Lingering
Effect!”
Even in the face of defeat, it didn’t matter. I was still
laughing.
