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"Coco Colada? How'd you…wait…you're drinking a piña colada, aren't you?" Beckett says with a grin.
The woman laughs and holds up her glass, causing another round of chuckles.
"All right. Team number three will be the group in the back, across the aisle from team two. Tell us your name, and make sure it's a good one." Beckett points to the group.
"The Geritol Gang," a man says enthusiastically.
Beckett laughs along with the rest of the room. "Okay, I asked for a good one, and that's what I got. Let me know if the game gets going too fast for you."
"Oh, no. Don't worry about us. We'll not only keep up with you, but we'll take the win, too," the team captain says. His team members noisily agree.
"Did you hear that? There's a challenge on the table. You all better bring your A-game," Beckett says. Going clockwise around the room, he moves to the next group. "Team number four. What did you pick?"
"Ontario Stampede," a man calls out, pumping his fist.
"Folks, we have the Canadians in the house. You better watch out. I hear they're a troublemaking bunch," Beckett warns, delighting team four.
Beckett moves to team five. "What did you choose?"
Several of the ladies bat their eyelashes and pose seductively. One of them tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles at Beckett. "We're the Sexy Sexagenarians."
Beckett laughs and shakes his head. "Oh, Lord. I think I'm in trouble."
"You better believe it," the woman says, followed by a round of chuckles.
"All right, moving on. Let's see what team six has to say."
Four men sitting by the window behind Brittany's team suddenly stand. A white-haired gentleman grins at his teammates, then looks at Beckett. "We're Four Hens and Their Roosters." The men crook their arms at their sides and flap them like birds. They take a few steps into the aisle and pretend to walk like chickens.
Beckett covers his face with his palm. It looks like he's trying not to lose it. After a half minute or so, he clears his throat and wipes at his eye. "I thought I'd seen everything, but you take the cake." Still chuckling, he asks the room at large, "Is it just me, or do they look like they're laying eggs?"
One of the women from their team starts cackling, and another laughs so hard she snorts.
The lounge is in utter chaos.
"I think they're nesting," someone calls out through broken laughter.
"Maybe you should tell them chickens can't fly," a man shouts from the center of the lounge.
Beckett bursts out laughing and turns to face the piano. It takes him a minute to get himself together and turn back around. When he does, his face is pink, and he's wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. "Who knew this game was going to kill me? We better move on, or I'll never be able to finish." He takes a deep breath. "Team seven, could you tell us your name, please."
"Our team name is Garden Party," Brittany calls out.
"Garden Party?" Beckett says, looking puzzled. "How'd you come up with that one?"
Brittany smiles. "Well, it's because these four wild ladies are Iris, Rose, Marigold, and Dahlia." She holds her hand to the side of her face, pretending she doesn't want the ladies to hear her. "I hate to say it, but they're also drinkers."
Beckett shakes his head and chuckles. "Luis. Dane. Here's another team you'll need to keep an eye on so their glasses don't go empty. Hmm…alcohol and flowers. How about an elderflower rose gimlet, a lilac lavender gin sour, or a flower drop? Just some ideas for the ladies." Grinning, he points to the group sitting in front of the bar, across the aisle from Brittany's team.
"We're the Crafty Crew," a woman says, holding up a beer.
"Great name. We'll have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't cheat," Beckett laughs. He points to the last group. "You'll be team nine. We've got some unique names so far, so tell us what you came up with."
Complainer Jerry scowls at his teammates. "They picked the name. It's not my choice."
"Okay, what did they pick?" Beckett asks, eyeing Jerry cautiously.
"They picked the Pie-Eyed Piddlers."
