Dizzy Drinks

Dizzy Drinks doesn't need anyone else at the table. You spin on the spot ten times, stop, and drink half of whatever's in your glass — it doesn't care if that's a lager or a G&T, it just wants the room moving before you swallow.

The comedy is entirely physical. Whoever's counting usually drags out six and seven just to watch you overcorrect and grab the nearest shoulder. Half a drink sounds manageable until the floor is still doing its own laps — more of it ends up down someone's front than in a mouth, and there's always one player who sits down mid-spin, dignity gone before the glass has even reached their lips.

Hand your drink to someone else before you start turning. Nobody finishes ten full spins holding a full glass without wearing some of it. The second you stop, fix your eyes on one spot on the wall — an old trick skaters and dancers use to cut the stagger in half. And choose your counter with care. A mate with a grudge will find ten spins becomes fourteen.

It sits in the 3rd Circle, one of twenty wedges on that ring, so it's not a rare landing over a night. What makes it stand out is that it doesn't wait on anyone else — no partner to rope in, no swap to negotiate. Dart lands, you're already turning.