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Friday 13 October
The game has begun!
The Mad Monkey Assassin and Manic
Street Screecher got off to a quick start.
Finding their first target out, they tried Barnaby Young.
Mad Monkey Assassin reports:
Undeterred by the failure, we raced to Young's fortress
like room. Arriving
at approximately 6:08pm Screecher yet again acted as a
decoy. He lured Young
out of his stronghold under the guise of a lost traveller. Young was
blissfully unaware of Monkey lurking in a handy shadowy recess just a few
feet away. In his foolishness, Young failed to properly
secure the area and
was still completely unaware of Monkey until the two revolver shots from
point blank range left him severely lacking in the head department. With the
kill sucessfully executed, Monkey and Screecher
left the area with all
speed, pausing only to consider a quick 'celebration' in the Churchill Bar.
Meanwhile, Mr. Pink had business with Sarah Bird (The Beast):
Having learned from the email search system that Sarah is
a first year at
Girton college, I went to see an economist - an
old friend from school - who lived a few doors down from her. Having
explained my situation (in total confidence) we agreed that Alex would ask
one of Sarah's neighbours to borrow a saucepan from her -
he was unaware of what was going on. Once the time came, John knocked at her
door, she opened it, let him in, I burst in from behind the door and shot
her three times from about six inches in the head (although, to be fair,
only two of the caps went off - never trust an arms dealer) The smell of
gunpowder still fresh in the air, I left quickly.
The former Beast reports:
At 5 past 6 this evening. The Beast was awakening from her noon nap when
a close friend and collegue knocked on the door. The Beast in her still
subdued state answered the door. Close friend and collegue asked if he
could borrow a saucepan. On the syllable pan he stepped aside and a
hooded figure appeared and shot the beast 5 times in the
upper torso.
Blood spewed from her as she died quietly in the corner. Close friend and
collegue then took saucepan and hooded figure started the
long cycle back from Girton.
Sarah has joined the police force.
Sam Sam Birch was gunned down in his doorway by
Estella:
The security at St. John's was lax - Estella knocked on Sam
Birch's
door: foolishly, he opened without using his spyhole "BANG BANG" - 2 shots
of Estella's cap gun at point blank range + he was dead, his final words
being "I didn't know the game had started". However, as Estella left the
building, an unidentified assassin shot at her with elastic
bands, but missed.
The other assassin was Archangel:
I was in my room when I heard a shot being fired out of my door. Knowing my
neighbour had been assassinated, I rushed out with
my poison-tipped shuriken and threw it at the female assassin. It flew
majestically in the air, gliding with ease, aerodinamically, before landing
on the floor, missing the target by about half a metre.
Seeing this, the female assassin turned and fired a shot with her cap gun.
Fortunately, I was 3 metres away when she started to aim and I was already
in my room by the time the shot was fired. I locked the door, frantically
searching for a new weapon as my first weapon was in the hands of my
target. I rushed out again with a poison dart, bu she had already
retreated.
It seems that I have to get a gun after all...
Sam has joined
the police.
P Zero had the tables turned on him by The Bitch:
Alas, I am fallen.
As I stalked my quarry through the corridors of Cripps, water pistol at the ready a door
silently opened behind me. I turned, trying to draw my gun from my pants and was faced by
my intended target. He had seen my concealed gun, and swiftly delivered a
stabbing trust to the kidneys!!! As I drew my last breath, all I could utter was
"Bollocks". So I survived a mere 1 and a half hours. Time of death: 7:30pm. Cause of
death: Stab to the kidneys with a cardboard knife. Just in case you dont know I'm Paul
Hickford aka P Zero. Which is kinda ironic, since I got zero kills.
The victor reports:
An amateur amongst the guild believed himself to be cunning
enough to take out the assassin of assassins. However, his performance
reeked of his own lack of professionalism and he was not of the same
calibre as myself, the 'Nam veteran and master of various weapons from
bombs to blades. He turned seeing his target approaching him in an
inconspicuous and unassuming way, something I picked up when studying at
the Italia Conte school for bullshitting. He was completely unaware of his
impending death. Quickly and without hesitation, I leapt up the stairs and
stabbed him in the kidneys with my trusty cardboard knife, before he had
the chance to pull out his pathetic excuse for a water pistol from his
pants. I stabbed him again and again as he fell to his knees, the blood
pouring from him like a dog run over by a ten-ton juggernaut. The look in
his eyes spelled out the fear that he did not realise he had. I thrust
again, this time to his eyeball and pulled it from the socket leaving but a
pulsing mass of blood and brain matter oozing from the open wound. I then
poured salt upon him till he was ridden with pain. In then ate his kidneys
with some peanuts and a cold Bud (Insert Hannibal Lecter noise here). And
that was the end of your P. Zero. He thought that he
could get the better of the Bitch, but I bitched him up bad.
P Zero has joined the police force
Emma The Woman in Black Owen
of Queens college was assassinated by Bitchface at precisely 20.02
on Friday 13th October. (superstition will save no one)
The target was spotted leaving her residence to use the urinary devices
located opposite. The cunning Bitchface sneaked into her room and
concealed himself amongst her furnishings. He waited for the target to
return. Long and treacherous was the wait, with bad music and cooties
being the obstacles overcome by the courageous Bitchface.
When the target opened the door to her residence the reactions of the
assassin were lightning fast, and his weapon was deadly.
She cried for mercy but the assassin showed none.
Bitchface will now prove himself further by assassinating all who stand
in his way.
The Phantom Fresher terminated
Frances Purple Lady Robinson:
Picture the scene; there I was in formal hall at John's in shorts,
T-shirt
and beach towel when suddenly I spy my first target;
Name: Frances
Robinson
She didn't stand a chance. Obviously very appreciative of the rules. I
waited until the was in 2nd Court court after hall until my strike. I
knifed her into the back of her neck at approx 21:00. She protested so I
knifed her again. She screamed and then she succumbed. Victim number 1
fully under control. The Phantom Fresher lives!! Ha ha ha!!!
Shan Unconscious Deochand was stabbed by
The Eviiil One:
20.56: assassins and accomplices entered Christ's. With the help of a
friendly porter, they were directed towards the room.
21.01: room located
21.02: "Hi, I'm looking for Shan" "That's me"
21.03: Shan Deochand deceased: Hit
Completed. Scene vacated
21.26: Cardboard cut-out dagger wiped clean, ready for a use in a fellow
assassin's hit.....
Estella murdered Jamie
Lloyd Douglass.
Last night , whilst sitting enjoying a quiet drink in a friend's room,
James Douglass, Jamie to friends, was shot dead by an unknown assassin.
Having entered the room only a few minutes earlier to have a glass of
port, James was fired upon in the chair where he sat. He received
several hits to the head and body, as the murderer emptied an entire
magazine from their handgun. The assassin is thought to have had an
accomplice, according to witnesses.
The word from Estella herself:
Security at Sidney Sussex was tighter - a master had to be followed into a
building by our intrepid heroine, in order to take advantage of his access
codes. Estella knocked on Jamie Douglass' door -
no
reply. Damn. Estella stopped to ask directions at a small gathering in
an adjacent room: "Could you tell me where James is?"
"Yes, he's there" -
Estella pulled out her cap gun, and emptied round after round into the
sorry thing that was Jamie. His final words: "Bollocks!
Bollocks!".
The pressure was too great for Felix Lai, so he leapt out of a third floor window. Splat.
Frybecue slew Ian Patrician Walker:
Friday night saw Ian Walker quietly
rowing in the St. John's fitness centre. Frybecue effortlessly
entered the room and made the kill with a knife to the torso. The time was
6.45pm.
Ian's corpse tells us its tale:
"The rowing machine droned gently as I warmed down from a thrashing attempt
to get fit. Old chart music filled the room, as always just beyond the
range of hearing. I didn't hear the door open as my killer
entered quietly
and crept up on me with his blacked-out blade ready for the slice.
I felt a sudden twinge in my right kidney and a hot line tracing through
from the surface as my assassin slid the knife in up to the
hilt, twisted
it a quarter turn and yanked it sideways. I fell off the rowing machine,
arching my back with the pain and letting out a tortured croak. As I lay on
my back I saw the horrified faces of the other two people in the gym with
me and then, filling my vision, was the face of my killer. He
smiled as the
knife went in a second time and then I had something filling my throat that
I couldn't cough up. Gagging as warm liquid ran down my gullet, my vision
greyed out. My last thought? I knew the killer but couldn't
place his name to tell the others who he was....."
Ian has joined the police force.
Epi-epi-phtangtang callously poisoned William Rude Dog Palmer:
Today at approximately 10:20 pm Epi-epi-phtangtang was having a quiet drink
with William Palmer in the St Johns bar. I (Epi-epi etc)
sneakily slipped
a vial of deadly poison into his pint whilst his eyes were averted and he
was killed as he downed the pint in a drinking ceremony initiation.
Tim Redding (The Director General) ended the life of
Sanjay Joshi (The Juggler) before being betrayed by
The Mole:
After a mighty fine curry from that purveyor of delights, the Curry King, I
was pleasantly strolling back to my room in Cripps. Whilst appreciating the
amazing architecture of the aforementioned Cripps building who did I meet
but fellow assassin and all round good mate The Mole. He
informed me that the game had begun, so I immediately scanned the area for
snipers, but all seemed well. Before I checked my email, he suggested we
played snooker, and not being someone to turn down a challenge we played,
with a couple of other mates. After this enjoyable ball-play we adjourned
to the John's bar, where The Mole bought me a pint. What
a great guy!
Whilst
enjoying all the natural goodness of Mother Nature's bounty, he proceeded
to tell me about his targets. He described two of them in detail, but said
he couldn't remember the third. On any other day this would have twigged my
razor sharp instincts, but today was Fri 13th. Anyway the
Mole also showed his
reasonably well constructed club and his 2 revolvers.
Being the good mate he is gave me one of his revolvers as I
hadn't got to Smith's yet. "Ha", I said as soon as I had it in my hand "I
could kill you now for brandishing weapons. But I'm a honest gentleman, so
I won't," said I as I quickly hid my revolver before he tested his
conscience. Ah, what bitter twists fate deals us. The irony, the irony!!!
Anyway later that evening after checking my email, I was delighted to learn
that my 1st target was my friend and near-neighbour in Cripps, Mr
Sanjay
Joshi. For a second my consience pricked, but was quenched by my thirst for
blood. The Mole kindly offered to let me use his weapons
to put Mr Joshi out of his misery permenantly. We came up
with a plan so cunning a fox would bow
down in awe of it. My beautiful assisant Rachel would knock on Sanjay's
door and ask him for help with some maths questions (never mind that it's
midnight). After obtaining access I would brutally club Sanjay over the
head, disabling him to give me time to raise one of his beloved maths text
books over his head and turn his skull into a pancake. A completely
fool-proof plan you think? Well it went like clockwork until we knocked on
his door and he wasn't in. So we executed plan B, which was to partake in
the hospitality of a friend nearby.
After consuming copiuos amounts of
alcohol I sensed Sanjay's presence, the despatched scout
reported he was in
a convesation at the bottom of the staircase. I jumped up, grabbed The Mole's
club and silently ran down the numourous flights of stairs followed by
about 10 innocents. A word of warning, never try to silently run down
numerous flights of stairs after consuming copiuos amounts of alcohol.
Anyway with the club behind my back I approached my target. I ignored the
innocent look of friendship in his eyes and drew my club. While he was
wondering why I had a rolled up tube of Christmas wrapping paper it came
crashing down on his temple. He collapsed to the floor and I was just about
to bring the text book down on his skull when I realised I didn't have it.
Undeterred I drew my borrowed revolver and buried some bullets in his chest.
While he breathed his last painful breath and I exalted in my glory, I
heard my name. I turned, expecting a victorious cheer but instead found a
bullet rushing towards me from a revolver held by my best friend ever in
the world ever, The Mole. The look on his face burned
into my soul, his
laughter tearing apart my being. I leaned right back and bent my knees and
at any other time would have easily dodged the bullet. But alcohol, usually
my best friend betrayed met and alas, I was struck on the head. As I
slumped to the floor beside Sanjay my mind could not
comprehend this
betrayal. As I started my journey to the soon-after I vowed I would open
the biggest can of whopp-ass ever on the evil monster.
Here's the Juggler's version of events:
In the dead of night, an innocent juggler was wending his peaceful way
through the sinister, haunted Cripp's Building. The full moon sneered
pitifully upon the poor path of this peace-loving practitioner of circus
skills, who naively thought it would be safe to walk the remaining several
yards back to his room all on his own. Werewolves howled menacingly from
the School of Pythagoras, vampires were wreaking blood-spilling havoc in
New Court, and the forces of evil were concentrating on Cripp's!
Poor simple Juggler did not realise the carnage that would ensue when he
reached the base of F staircase. A creature of the shadows
had
enveloped
its being within the darkness at the top of the stairs, and as the only
well-intentioned soul of this sad story approached, the emperor of
evil
pounced from his lair! Juggler fought and struggled valiantly, dexterously
producing the juggling clubs anointed by the angels of circus skills from a
hidden pocket secreted on his person, and then defending himself with the
ancient martial art of Juggle-jitsu. The attack started with Multiplex
Reverse Spins, to which the emperor of evil was quite impervious, so
Juggler the Great further added continuous right-handed Tomahawks, and even
droplessly moved on to (dare I say it?) Continuous Triple Chops with
Helicopter Flourishes!!!!
Alas! the carnal personification of evil survived this onslaught, and
produced the "Club of Doom". Even with the Spirit of Circus on his side,
Juggler could help but be stunned by this instrument of evil, and the devil
incarnate obliterated the mortal bones of Juggler with the "Revolver of
Death".
As he cackled in glee at his petty victory, a deep voice called from behind
him.The daemon stopped in his tracks. He knew the voice
well. His
old enemy - the Spirit of Circus - had come back. This
time it was not to distill the essence of happiness and joy from the misery caused by Evil.
Now, it was payback time - in his Friday the 13th mischief, Evil had gone too far. The
Spirit of Circus summoned up the spirits of all his ministers,
led by the
ghost of Juggler. The clash of these opposing forces was so mighty that the
battle brought up an unimaginable whirlwind, sucking the entire universe
into a point singularity - a black hole demolishing the entire temporal
span of this battle, and exterminating every last remnant of life and the
cosmos.
A treaty was agreed upon between the Spirits of Circus and Evil. In order
that circus may forever flourish, and in order that havoc may be wreaked,
death may continue, and that mad assassins may continue to run amok, the
space-time continuum was re-established, and now the state of the universe
has been returned to its former chaotic state.
And finally, a report from The Mole:
Yesterday evening, upon receiving my targets, I discovered amongst them the
Director General...as a friend of the target, I kindly
offered to be his accomplice as he made an attempt on one of his targets. Thus, after
spending the evening with him, we armed ourselves and made for the targets
room. Despite not finding the target in his room, we proceeded to walk
around. Success! The target was spotted at the bottom of
the stairwell.
Impersonating drunkards, we approached.. the Director
General attacked
swiftly and decisively, disabling with a cosh then moving in for the kill
with a lethal elastic band shot. As he raised his hands in triumph, I
launched a cowardly attack, and shot him in the back with my elastic
band...with a single cry of pain and a look of betrayal, he fell to the
floor. Victim one for The Mole.
Tim has joined the police force
Alessandro Alex Papa was killed by The Reaper with the aid of a strange little old lady.
Mattias Marvin de Zalenski was riddled with
bullets by Electra King:
If you've got dull 9am lectures on saturdays you might want to stay in
bed. At least Mattias should have as I
put all six shots from my revolver
into him when he arrived outside the lecture theatre.
This was most tragic seeing as he had been carrying a cup of coffee, which
he spilled when dropping to the floor. A real shame that.
Nobody ever saw me.
Allen Gambit Swann swelled up and turned
purple:
It is most unfortunate that I must report my death so early in the game.
Another casualty of the 9.00am lecture I was not fully awake when I
checked
my pigeon hole before leaving. To my dismay I found my fingers coated with
a deadly poison and I cheerful note informing me of my death at the hands
of a certain "Bitch". Perhaps my
carelessness will remind others to be more watchful in future.
Fenster cunningly infiltrates his target's acommodation:
Pretending to be collecting sponsor money for the Cambridge Dancers' Club who were doing a 24 hour dance in need of the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Fund, I gained entrance into one of their houses. Then, not as to arouse any undue suspicion, I knocked on peoples doors to collect money for the cause. Unfortunately, my target, was out.
Should anyone know where I can deposit £3.75 towards the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Fund, I would be very grateful. An assassin I may be, but a deliberate fraudster I am not.
Today at 3.20pm Mad Boy Spuddock killed Darshan Mr Ice Sudarshi in his room at
Queens'.
He had an accomplice in the form of the psychotic "The
Blade" who first made
contact with the victim.
This being the first attack things were not as they should have been and the
weapon, a tasty little pistol, got stuck, giving Darshan
time to fight back.
He did not however, and jumped under the duvet on his room mates bed and
whimpered. Mad Boy Spuddock decorated the walls with Sudarshi's brain. The
two assassins slipped quietly into the background and left.
Peter Szatmary was rubbed out by Lord Denning aided by Varys the Eunuch
My Lords,
I have had the advantage of reading in draft the reports of my noble and
learned friends Lord Umpire of The Guild, and Lord Varys of Eunuch, I find
their reports equally short but precisely right in their truthful
descriptions of the facts. Accordingly, I agree with my noble and learned
friends that for the reasons they give the target in the first case,
Regina
v. Peter Szatmary, should be considered
dead and honoured for his boldness
in opening his door and his laudable honesty in reporting his own death
without raising any of the procedural loopholes that cripple our ancient
guild.
Peter has joined the police force
They then went after another target:
After assisting my learned friend Lord Denning in his
slaughtering of a
Churchillite, i hoped we could get another. Who better than the one on
my target list ?
He was in. :)
But he had a gasmask on. :(
And gas of his own. :((
And he wouldn't go out. :(((
And i missed my "revolver" shot. >:(((
Damn those slippery powdered fingers !
love, Varys the Eunuch
Lord Denning continues:
the target in the second case Regina v.
The-coward-hiding-behind-his-door should be because of his cowardly
attitude which dishonours our ancient guild live his miserable existence
for a longer period while the court deliberate on his deserved punishment.
The Bitch knifed Amy
The Skanky Wanker Pollard
Possibly the most straight forward of my kills. I sought out my
victim, the young and beautiful Amy Pollard of King's
College was sitting
quietly in her room as Da Bitch approached. Little did she know that her
place in this game of games was so under threat. I knocked on her door. It
was answered by a kind friend welcoming a stranger in from the cold. I
asked for the lady of the house and out she came unassuming and completely
innocent of her end. She left the room as I beckoned her outside and as she
went out of sight of her unsuspecting friends I let her know that she had
reached the pinnacle of her vita and was being visited by the grim reaper
in the shape of Da Bitch. A swift stab to the belly and the blood began to
pour from her stomach like a scene from Alien. "Fuck" she cried "FUCK,
FUCK, FUCK" She wailed again "I haven't even checked my emails yet! SHIT
SHIT SHIT." I left her and made my getaway. Though she tried to chase, I
reminded her that death generally incapacitates the muscles and in fact all
action and she was defeated. Departing from the grand buildings of King's I
thanked the porter for showing me the way to her room, and fled like the
villain that I am.
A short while later:
The Blade approached the room
of one Amy Pollard in an attempt to secure his first
kill. On
approaching the door however he noticed that it was slightly ajar and pushed it open to
be confronted by a scene of devastation. There in the middle of the floor
was the bloodied body of Amy, next to her a clearly
shaken friend, weeping
over the difficulty of his problem paper. A sad sight indeed.
If The Bitch crosses my path again I'll stick him like a
pig.
Michael Ishmael Cox was executed by Queequeg:
The door was clearly unlocked. A stealthy hand reached towards it..but
wait there are voices inside. One cannot have an innocent victim on our
records.
5:30
Queequeg: Knock Knock
Michael: Come in
Q:Knock Knock
Door opens
Bang!
As the smoke clears Michael sees a hole in mid torso and
dies
Michael's Corpse: Bugger
Q(informs helpfully): You're dead
Bang(as they said in "The Godfather" always shoot twice)
Michael's corpse: Alright alright
The corpse then proceeds to shut the door and inform the other person
that he had been killed.
So there was a witness but it is unknown whether they had a look at me coz
this assasin in professional style left the scene quickly and walked home
grinning.
Electra King 'cleaned' Donald
The Noos Tse:
Room vacancy:
A new occupant is needed for a nice calm room complete with furniture and
the previous occupant's belongings.
The bloodstains on the wall go very well with the carpets, but tragically
you won't be able to use the desk's drawers as they contain the
aforementioned person.
Upper body on the left-hand side, extremities in the middle and lower body
on the right-hand side.
Toby Lovell (Hammy) had an unfortunate visitation by
Dave Hammond:
Bugger! Im dead. I got caught at 6.10pm having a relaxing chat with some
friends. The guy burst in (didn't even knock) and asked who Lovell was.
I told him it was my friend and he shot him. Then my friend told me it
was me and I got shot. Does my assassin go on the wanted list for
improper research or am I the one who broke the rules?
Dave Hammond has this to say for himself:
I wandered over to St. Marys (or was it Michaels? or possibly both?!)
Court in Caius, to do battle with Toby Benjemin Maximus
Lovell,
and effected a greatly cunning entrance to his staircase via the
front door. During the subsequent long vigillance (not once did he
have the decency to visit his own room) I vented my anger in rubber band
form at his fridge (well, it had hummed arrogantly at me for the past four
hours), before finally realising that I was on the wrong floor.
Fnargh!
I stalked up to his door, taking great time and care so that no one
would notice me (other than three other residents, someone who,
came through the front door, and the guy who came up the stairs
and towards Master Lovell's door). In a rare moment of cunning,
I decided not to knock most loudly and bid him to emerge and do battle.
Instead, I hid around the corner, waited until the door opened, and burst
in. Only to find three people. Well, naturally, I asked which one was
"Lovell" and shot the person who was pointed out. How was I to know that
the REAL Lovell would then grin and say that I'd killed
the wrong person,
and would be wanted? I murdered him in turn, both for being an assassin,
and for telling lies.
Well, judging by previous assassinations containing this sort of
incident, I can't really be blamed for killing the innocent. It was Master
Lovell who caused his death, after all.
After much deliberation and checking of past games, I've decided that Dave Hammond
isn't wanted. (see Melvin Vs
Cat The Destroyer 22/10/99)
Chief Wowbagger issued a statement in response to
Dave Hammond's crime:
Curses! I seem to have failed to become wanted, and hence be unable to
arrest and kill and generally annoy myself. I did wake myself up early
this morning, however, and give myself a good telling off for failing to
poison all the door handles and plant a bomb on the wrong floor (not to
mention attack random people with a floppy yellow sword).
I do hope I go wanted in the not-too-distant future, so I can terminate
myself with extreme prejudice, because that way I'll be able to gain
vengeance on myself for burning that steak yesterday.
CoP Wowbagger, who is not Dave Hammond, but is
actually Dave Hammond.
PS: Impersonating the Chief of Police tends to be hazardous to your
health.
Is everybody confused yet?
Beak-oh was visited but refused to open the door.
He then went to call on one of his targets:
As before, though, he was not in. Luckily, I had a back-up plan. Attaching my
tea-towel-based gas mask to my face, I reached into my bag-o-tricks and retrieved the
arsenic spray cunningly disguised as a can of Lynx Inca. I emptied about half of the
remaining contents into the crack beneath his door, and left cackling
semi-maliciously (being careful not to remove my mask).
As an afterthought, we graciously decided to leave a note under his door
telling him that what he would be smelling was the deadly fragrance of his
demise.
Unfortunately for Beak-oh the target's window was open,
so the gas had dissipated by the time he returned.
A poisoned letter was sent by Fenster:
Scientists have stressed for several years that swallowing your toothpaste
can do harm to your health. Well thanks to my science team, I have been
putting into operation a form of toothpaste that will harm your health much
quicker, killing in less than 10 seconds.
The first use of this was at New Hall, where it was spread on a flyer for
the Cambridge Presbyterian Church, then placed in a particular pigeonhole.
To cover up this attempt, many other flyers were
distributed in other pigeonholes. Would she choose God?
Tragically an innocent victim picked up the mail:
In order to ease my paranoa (about bad spelling) and gain ideas about high
wires and swords I headed off for a trip to the circus. Returning with my
innocent friend she spotted something in my pidgen hole and reached it out
for me. Little did she know the dangers hidden even in invites from the
prestaberian church (aside from those of being sung at). A strange
substance covered it's reverse, her fingers went numb she sniffed at the
strange substance that covered them. Her last words as she crumbled to dust
were 'mmm peppermint'.
So I'm alive, still and wiser about junk mail. I'm not sure if this counts
as murdering civilians as it was in my pidgen hole and she grabbed it
before I thought to warn her.
The contact poison was delivered to a private pigeonhole so the assassin isn't to blame.
Please make every effort to stop other people picking up your mail. Assassins found guilty
of letting accomplices, who then die, collect mail will be placed on the wanted list.
Please note that room door handles are considered public places, since innocent victims often try them when visiting their friends to see if they're in. If you contact poison them, then you will be put on the wanted list for endangering innocents. (See section 9.1 in the rules)
Beak-oh decides that doorhandles are
too boring in their non-lethal state:
Aided by my sinister accomplice, The Man With The Golden Beak, I made
tonight attempts on the lives of two of my targets. Although I, being the
gentleman I am, arrived at
their doors with my trusty axe Scurfbearer and razor-sharp dagger
Beakblade (der Flammenwerfer had to remain at home due to their silly
policies of "no water"), ready to sever various parts of their foolish
coporea,
they were both greedily "out". Because of this, I was forced to resort to
placing a deadly contact toothpaste on the bottoms of their respective
door handles.
As you can see, there was no choice for me. I even knocked on the door
next to him to ask the occupant if he had seen him. He pretended that he
didn't have a clue where he was (if indeed he was not the target himself).
It seemed that contact poison was the only polite reply to their rude
absences.
For endangering the lives of innocents by contact poisoning in a public
area, Matthew Beak-oh Bennett is now wanted!
Estella ventures out once more:
Ignoring the essay that has to be in on Monday, Estella
ventured forth into the cold Cambridge night.
No answer at his door, and the target was not to be
found either in the college bar, or any of the gyprooms - there could be
only one possible solution: a contact poision on the handle of his
door. Yes, the inside and underneath of his doorhandle were liberally
coated with toothpaste, undetectable unless the target looked up at the
handle from the floor. Cackling maniacally, Estella exited, stage
right.
The target reports:
Some fiend left
contact poison [forensics suggest mint tootpaste, but research continues]
on my door handle last night. I was at one with calmness at that point
[off my face] but luckily for me, and not my assassin, my neighbour had
tried to see if I was in earlier and his lifeless body gripping the
door [rigor mortis] was a bit of a clue. Oh yes - my neighbour,
an innocent, was killed. Can the blood letting continue ? Hope so !
For this heinous crime Gemma Estella Mitchell is now wanted!
Caracol added ventilation holes to Aadil Mamujee (Bitchface)'s skull.
Neil Mr Pink Holden was blown to pieces by
PC Anubis' bomb:
Well things got interesting this morning, so far I had played defecively
since my guns were naff, but that problem was solved by buying a new one,
when I discovered I had for a change lasted more than 24hrs.
Now got a good gun, new experience.
So I go out of back entrance of college across Storey's Way and into
Churchill to kill Neil Holden.
I sneak to his room get out gun and press down door-handle.
Oh bummer. Fittingly it is locked, alas I can't use my gun.
Well this doesn't present a problem though, since I brought a bomb
along.
I sneak back out of corridor and arm bomb and go back to room.
No noises from inside, a good sign.
Then finally bomb installed and hopefully target dead.
Hail unto Anubis! Keeper of the Veil, Guardian of the Dead, Lord of
Passage!
I was awoken from my partially drunken slumber at about nine on sunday
morning by some dodgy sounds coming from outside my room. Putting it down
to paranoia, I go back to sleep. When I open the door two hours later, the
bomb goes off at my feet. (This also explains the strange bearded person
hanging around my room last night) So the lesson is, to not get killed,
don't use your bedroom door. Ever.
Ben Mighty Upsetter Jarman was done in by Supernova:
Security at Robinson was lax following Saturday night, and entry into
their inner sanctum proved easy. The target in question - an old school
friend - was blissfully unaware of any danger as I appeared at his door.
Inviting me in for a cup of tea proved to be a fatal mistake - within
seconds my automatic was levelled at his head, and I discharged 4 bullets
into his skull. As he collapsed to the floor with a look of surprise on
his face, the extent of my treachery hit me. It is with a tear in my eye
that I recount his final words: "I got absolutely munted last night"
The Hairy Canary tried to kill Aadil Bitchface Mamujee, who was already dead:
A calm Sunday afternoon was the ideal time for a kill... at least that was
what the Hairy Canary though as he burst into Aadil
Mamujee's room, and placed a bullet in his head. It was only after that, that he
realised that Aadil was already lying dead on the floor.
Oh well, better luck next time.
Roscoe cunningly infiltrated Mario Hitman Sainz Martinez' stronghold with bloody
consequences:
Knock knock. "Come in". (Martinez sees us and reaches
for the assault rifle). Damn! What to do now? We cautiously saunter forwards under
the guise of being lost freshers, and so the sob story begins... My
accomplice wields her silver tongue and beguiles the paranoia ridden
form of my target. Having deflected the interrogation, "Are you
assassins?", we creep forward. The moment nears and now nothing is left
but the kill. Would I be disintegrated into a bloody pulp by the
immense weapon pointed at my chest or would my dagger prevail? Martinez
begins to drop his guard and puts the rifle down, an unwise move from
such a veteran. A cover story about rugby distracts the killer and I
seize my chance... I step forward to 'see the gun' and as he turns away
I flash my knife out and stab him in the gut. Bleeding profusely and
now one kidney the worse for wear, with his blood-gurgled dying gasps
Martinez offers me the mark of respect. I return my
knife to it's concealement and then dash from the room with my accomplice to leave
Mario Sainz-Martinez to live his last minutes in extreme
agony at the knowledge that he will never be able to get the mess out of the
carpet...
While I was playing CounterStrike (ahem... I mean... doing some VR training
to improve combat efficiency, that is) there was a knock on my door. Not
expecting anyone, I was slightly suspicious... when I said "come in" and a
young couple entered, my first reaction was to reach for my trusty assault
rifle and point it at them, even though they weren't bearing weapons. Before
I squeezed the trigger however, I noticed how both the strangers froze, an
expression of total and utter horror on their faces - too unprofessional?
"Oh. You're not assassins after all, are you?" I asked.
"Assassins? No - we're looking for a rugby player called
Mario..." The girl said, pretty convincingly.
At that moment I thought I
recognised her face from having seen her around college.
"Oh alright then, sorry to have scared you" and I put the rifle down as the
couple kept staring at it.
"Wow, what IS this thing anyway?" the lad said as he approached
to take a closer look.
"Oh just a toy, don't worry..." I assured him just as I realised he WAS
wearing a black leather trenchcoat after all - and barely had time to open
my mouth before being stabbed in the side.
Oh well, that should teach me. At least I'm glad to have been killed in a
honourable way, and by such friendly and polite people - revenge shall be
very very sweet. Time to join the ranks of the Undead Constabulary...
Mario has joined the police force
Roscoe then went on to waste Debroah Lucky Levene:
With this almost fatal (For me that is.) 1st kill done I moved on the
the lesser, but still deadly, threat of the one known only as Debroah
Levene. My accomplished accomplice joined me for a second time despite
the risks, and we moved on to attempt the kill...
As we approached her den we saw the door open. Our approach required
much more stealth than before, but with the minimum of effort (once we
had overcome the trip wires, laser sensors and security cameras that is)
we reached the door. Pausing only for a brief prayer to the Lord of
Cookies we moved in. My accomplice foolishly, yet bravely, took the
point and entered the lair. She caught the abomination removing it's
many layers of armour before it rested for the night, and as I rushed up
to protect my accomplice she confirmed the identity. There was nothing
left to do. Chanting a prayer for purity I purged the creature form
this world with six bullets; to the Heart, both of it's lungs, it's
brains and both of it's nostrils. As the corpse dissolved into that
from whence it came we fled the scene, safe in the knowledge that there
was one less monster in the world.
Wanted criminal Matthew Beak-oh Bennett goes on
the rampage:
Once more aided by the accomplice known only as "Flying Camel", I first
went to a player's room with Dave the pistol, in order that I might
introduce them. My victim, though, was not in. Colgate once again came to the
rescue as my magic tube of delight provided me with enough fatally minty
toothpaste to sneakily line the bottom of his door-handle.
The tooth..er poison wasn't found by the owner of the room, but by one of his
non-playing friends. Who died. Awwwwww..
Shane Dread Malik was murdered by Beak-oh:
"Shane Malik" was the name of the other person in my
college who I knew
was playing. I also conveniently happened to know where he lived. Because
of this, I went there.
Upon reaching his Hallwaye, I heard the sound of
several voices chatting amiably - one of which was the
ill-prepared Shane's. Ho ho,
thought I. Intrepidly, I stuffed Dave into my coat pocket and walked into
the room. Several shocked faces greeted me. "What do you think you're
doing, Matthew?" was Shane's immediate
query. When I walked towards him instead of answering his
question, he protested, "You can't just walk into my room!". By way of
reply, I retrieved Dave. "Oh fuck" was Shane's witty
retort. "Bang bang" was Dave's.
Having apologised profusely for my "rude" behaviour, I consulted the list
of policeman I had procured from the mystic network known only as the
World Wide Web. Two of them were not in - PCs Director General &
Birch -
and Mr. Colgate had his way with their door handles.
Matthew Beak-oh Bennett is dead, he and PC P
Zero simultaneously shot one another.
The third policeman
on my list, the unfortunate PC P Zero, was in, and
furthermore his door was open. So surprised was I by this fortunate turn
of events, I completely forgot how to not be a total malco. Ho ho, thought
I again (my sense of evil
humour is quite unoriginal), and put my bag-o-tricks on the floor. Loudly,
as it happened. Not realising he would know I was coming, I walked quickly
into the
room and aimed Dave at the PC with the precision of a
fairly precise
thing. Paul grabbed his pistol off his table. I
shot. He shot. Flying backwards into separate walls, we continued to
shoot. The room rather quickly became a mess. And, lying in corners
bleeding, we each breathed our last breath.
This afternoon, as I sat in my room door slightly ajar, I heard footsteps
on the hall. Knowing that the rest of the people on my corridor were out
for the afternoon I grabbed my pistol and went to investigate. As I
turned my door burst open, and in a dived a wanted criminal, Matthew
Bennett. My lightning reflexes (and Red Bull consumption) ensured that I
was quick enough to shoot him, but as he fell to the floor he fired
wildly, and since he was a near point blank range I was hit. We both fell
to the floor, bleeding profusely.
Once again, for the second time in as many days, I utter my last words. "Bugger!"
For killing a wanted criminal, PC P Zero has been posthumously
promoted to sergeant
And Gemma Estella Mitchell also went on the
rampage:
Driven mad with rage, Estella abandoned her essay entirely,
bought a new cap gun, and embarked on a rampage to kill as many cops as
possible. Estella examined the police list, and decided on Tim
Redding - Security at St. John's lax as usual, Estella entered Cripps
Court and knocked on Tim's door - no answer, so she left poision on his
door handle, and went to the next staircase to get her target from
Friday night (now a policman), Sam Birch - however, as Estella
entered the next staircase, she noticed a shady character going into the
building (more about him later, sportsfans). Estella knocked
on Sam's door: "Who is it?" "Estella, from the other night" "Who?" "The
one who shot you" (Estella was counting on the fact that Sam had not yet
read the wanted list.) "Oh, Hi [the door opened], what did you want" BANG
BANG - a perfect shot to head with a cap gun "To kill you". With that,
the shady character from earlier appeared from room E2, Cripps Court,
St. Johns - also sporting a cap gun. Estella shot first, but was out of
range. The shady character returned fire, but by that time Estella was
well out of range, running down the stairs and out to freedom.
PC Birch gives his side of the tale:
Having been invited to the Master's lodge for dinner on Sunday, I returned
with my fellow policeman The Director General to my room in Cripps. On the
way there, he remarked that he was going to check his email and the police
wanted list. I considered for a moment, but then declined to join him as I
was sure there would be no wanted criminals yet - how soon I would eat my
words. With a heavy night out planned, I settled down for some sleep only
to be awakened by a knock at the door. With my paranoia already running
high, I checked the peephole, and saw a visiting female. Not recognizing
her, I asked who it was. "Estella," came the reply. "You know, I killed you
on Friday night." Cautioudly I opened the door ajar and enquired as to what
she wanted. "Oh nothing really, just to say that you're dead." Upon saying
these words, she drew her pistol and fired once. Fortunately, I ducked
behind the door as I saw her hand reach for her pocket, and the bullet
thudded into the thick wooden door. Peeping round again, I was forced to
quickly withdraw as two more bullets came flying through the doorway.
Luckily, at this point my good friend The Mole, who had heard the sound of
gunfire, came from his room and launched a vicious assault, forcing Estella
to retreat down the stairway. After a brief conversation with The Mole, I
turned to my door, but my hand stopped before reaching the handle. I could
see a gleam of white paste on the bottom of the handle..... surely Estella
would not try the same thing that put her on the wanted list??? My
suspicions were confirmed, and upon looking at the bottom of the handle I
saw that it was covered with a deadly poison, which took a week's worth of
toilet paper to safely remove.
She then proceeded to Queens where she met PC P Zero:
As I clambered out of my room arms full of washing I saw an unfamiliar figure approaching.
Knowing that it was quite likely that I would die again I attempted to ready my weapon. Let
me tell you it's not easy to get a gun out of your pocket when you are carrying a
considerable pile of washing. Alas, Estella was to
swift, so I was dispatched with a shot
to the head. But my neighbour got a good look this time, so Gemma
Mitchell was clear to
see. But since she was already on the wanted list, it doesn't make much difference. Why do
all the wanted Psychos seem to come for me?
Over to Queens, with partner in crime Caracol: policeman Paul
Hickford was in his doorway - BANG - a quick shot to the
head. With his last breath, he gasped that he'd already been
shot and was bleeding to death - Estella finished him off
though! Estella's glorious day as an outlaw was coming to an end,
tragically.
Gemma Estella Mitchell and Eloise Caracol Phipps were killed by
The Bitch
As Estella and Caracol left the building, an innocent
looking fresher appeared, and asked them what they were
doing. Foolishly seeing him as no threat, Estella explained that she was
an Outlaw Assassin, and Caracol her non-outlaw partner in crime. The
fresher explained that he would have liked to have played the Michealmas
Game, but circumstances made it impossible. Taking pity on the poor
bastard, Caracol showed him her new weapon, AT THIS POINT, THE FUCKER
PULLED OUT A KNIFE AND STABBED US BOTH!!!!!!!!
Respect to the devious one, though, he had us totally fooled...But we will be revenged in
our future incarnations.
Gemma and Eloise have both joined the police force
Oofa poisoned the already deceased Beak-oh
Having made an educated guess that Matthew Beak-oh Bennett was the cowardly individual responsible for smearing toothpaste on my doorhandle, killing an innocent in the process, I seized his weapon of choice this afternoon, his axe "Scurfbearer". My laughter at its stupid name was barely suppressible. Given a generous coating of poison, I replaced it where he'd left it... his death is as yet unconfirmed, but I am hopeful.
Beak-oh states:
Upon returning to my room after a long day of wasting time, I picked up
the (now pointless) axe that I had left outside, and immediately noticed
that the entire "shaft" of the axe had been slathered with some sort of toxic
"personal lubricant". This would have been a brilliant assassination, were
it not for the fact that I had been pumped full of lead four hours
previously.
The Mole (Phil Bennett) went to 'visit' his
target but was caught by Samuel
Vimes.
The Mole's report:
While hunting my target, I slowly climbed the stairs to his
ridiculously high room. While waiting for him to answer his door, with my
weapon undrawn, I was savaged by the shots from Stuart
Becker's
hand cannon. This came as somewhat of a surprise, and thus I was left
defenceless as the slugs tore through my body. This is not the end.....
A word from the intended target:
Someone knocked on my door...
Someone died at my door...
It wasn't my gun that killed him...
Because he was killed in the back by my friend...
I think perhaps Mr Becker may be wanted.
But hey Phil Bennett is dead.
Samuel Vimes' explanation:
My assassins must believe that I don't take heed from the web-site. Contact poison (arsenic
laced vaseline) was found on the bottom of my door handle - and wiped straight off! As I
was wiping it off, I heard a shaky voice outside my friend's door.
"Hi, I'm here about C.U.S.U."
The intended victim is a good friend of mine so I rushed the interloper, drawing my pistol
and firing madly.
Finally one of the dodgy chambers actually contacted and he slumped to the floor. I fully
expect to go on the wanted list for this rash behaviour, but I rest easy in the knowledge
that I have upheld the honour of The Royal Society of Queens' Executioners by disposing of a
threat to one of our number.
Since The Mole wasn't his target, nor bearing weapons, Stewart Samuel
Vimes
Becker goes on the wanted list for murder.
Phil Bennett has joined the police force
The poison on Samuel Vimes' doorhandle was in fact the
work of Roscoe:
For the record, Roscoe left poison on the door handle
of Stewart Becker (wanted for murder) with the intent of
removing this
terrible threat (and target) from my list, ahem, sorry, the World...
Unfortunately for Roscoe, poisoning door handles is an offense. As a result George
Roscoe Sandison is now Wanted.
Jon Guiness Hind was cured by the Manic Street Screecher.
I'm dead.
Sweet blessed relief, after being laid up in bed for the last five (and
still counting) days with tonsillitis death seems a welcome alternative. I
was killed in a very gentlemanly fashion by a man who goes by the name of
the Manic Street Screecher. He called yesterday but I
must have been dead
to the world because I didn't here him knock. However, he kindly left his
calling card to let me know my days were numbered. This prompted me to
leave the door on the latch today as it seemed unsportsmanlike to leave
the door locked if I never left my room. He knocked on the door today
giving me plenty of time to find a weapon with which to defend myself had
I felt it worth the effort of dragging myself out of bed. I did manage to
stand up as he came in so as to die on my feet. He shot me at point blank
range, shook my hand, exchanged pleasentries and left. There were no
witnesses.
Manic Street Screecher has made his debut killing today, after a suave
James-Bondesque attack on the room of Mr J Hind, Trinity
College. Slipping un-noticed into the cavernous bowels of Trinity's Wolfson Building,
Screecher entered his victim's room with a single swift knock, and even
found time for a brief introduction ("Mr Hind, I presume?") before
administering a lethal single shot to the hapless, tonsilitis-stricken
chap's head from his revolver. The corpse still warm, Screecher went to
celebrate with tea and cakes in the Copper Kettle. Shaken not stirred. Or
something.
Kharn The Betrayer poisoned Dave Spiros Fallaize
I proceded to Downing, to nail Dave Fallaize who is in
hall. My
cunning enterence to his staircase was thwarted by a combination lock on the
front door of the staircase! I thumped on the door in vain, but no-one heard
me. Eventually, someone else from the staircase came down as they were going
out. they let me in, and so I sneaked round to Dave's door, gun in hand.
Alas, I was thwarted again! my victim was not in! After much thumping on his
door, I gave up, and decided to leave an unhealthy measure of poisen on his
doorhandle, together with a note to inform him he had been poisoned, incase
he came back too drunk or tired to notice (and report it) before he died.
Dave Fallaize's ghost reports:
"Curses, my wings of steel were no protection against the dastardly fiend
who smeared contact poison on my door knob..." - Spiros' last words (attrib.)
On 13th October, prior to receiving his hit-list, Spiros fucked off to
Aston to see his girlfriend and have some well deserved r&r from the
dangerous world of dark-side assassination...
...so imagine how pissed off he was when the first thing he does when he
gets back on Sunday evening is inadvertently cover his hand in contact poison.
It would seem (from the cheeky note on the floor which Spiros just had time
to read before expiring in paroxysms (is this a word?) of pain) that
"Kharn" (presumably meaning "War" ??) was Spiros'
assassin.
What makes this kill *really* insulting is:
Oh well. Shit happens. And vaseline also evidently.
Dave has joined the police force
Another door handle poisoned; Dan Kharn the Betrayer Williams is wanted for
poisoning in a public place.
Richard Martin Q Blank Jones was blown up by a
letter bomb sent by Electra King:
Far round John's I went,
For the Bitch lives there,
Who has cruelly sent,
Many that alive once were,
To a cold cold grave,
Even if they were brave.
I trekked all the way,
To my target's base,
To make a kill today,
In his own staircase.
But it was found locked,
and by accomplices mocked,
I wouldn't give up so soon.
I returned with a letter,
Some time round noon,
Cause it's better,
Not to leave anyone alive,
And not to flee,
If they've got a knife,
They could plunge into me.
The letter is now in its place,
In a certain pigeon hole,
Of me there is no trace,
Nor of the Semtex I stole.
To make a bomb it was used,
That can easily be confused,
For a letter oh so harmless,
But just lay on it your hands,
And just as you can guess,
Your live then ends.
James Supernova Richards was blown up by a bomb
planted by Krimson
In the middle of the night I commenced my voyage to the outskirts of the
known world: Churchill college. It was a hard trip, but no effort is too
much for exterminating the class enemies. I arrived at James
Richards's
door at 2.20 am. By 2.25 I had attached a small box to it. When he opens
his door there will be red goo all over the place.
I like red.
The pieces of the corpse were found arranged to give the following message:
This morning I was unfortunately blown to pieces by a cunning bomb placed
outside my door - who planted it remains a mystery.
George Roscoe Sandison was killed by PC Hitman
Oh well, they say revenge is sweet, and what could be sweeter than two
doses made of lead and proffered by gunpowder? For my unwitting (And
heinous I suppose) the police have claimed my life.
As I sat in my room trying to understand the basics of rudimentary
English, I heard a scratching at the door. Was this an attempt on my
life, or just some random scratching? Waiting a few minutes I gathered
my weapons. Deciding to brave the threat that I believed to be a newby
assassin, still wet under the ears and waiting to bleed, I crept out. I
saw movement in the kitchen and as the opening shots of the ordeal were
exchanged, I recognised the face of my assailent. With dread I saw that
it was none other than that of my first kill, Mario
Sainz-Martinez,
zombified and with flesh hanging off his bones! I dashed back to my
room to hide out until he had left and after some 10 minutes I realised
the dedication of this shambling beast. It wouldn't leave until I was
dead or it had returned to it's grave. There was no other choice than
to take the honourable approach and face my nemesis. I waited longer as
the creature paced and gathered my wits. Then, with my heart pounding I
released the catch on my door. The stalemate had begun. We both hid
behind our doors and exchanged volleys, but to no avail. I scraped the
skin off one arm with a lucky shot, but it was not to be. For near half
an hour we progressed using ploys like the mop, the hat and an innocent
bystander (Which the beast killed in an ungracious manner; He asked him
to hold a gun and then stabbed him for possessing a weapon... Nice.)
but it was not to be. Eventually it dived into my lair and as I blew
huge chunks of flesh from the seemingly invincible creature it fired
again and again into my body, consigning me to a fate of death and Tory
Party Conferences. My only consolation as life fled from my clutching
grasp was that, not only had I killed my highly experienced murderer,
but that I had done so twice...
Adieu la vie.
Adieu l'amore.
Adieu a toute le femme.
Bless you and farewell.
PC Hitman files his report:
Armed with little more than a Beretta 92FS and my cunning, I arrived at the
criminal Roscoe's place ready to take revenge. There was loud music playing
inside his room so I took a chance and tried the door. Locked, damn. He
must've heard this because the music stopped almost immediately. I waited
silently next to his door for a minute or two, but heard nothing.
I then retreated to his kitchen, where I left my excess gear and took my
boots off to avoid making footstep sounds. I heard a noise and sidestepped
out of the kitchen to find a puzzled Roscoe standing outside his door. I
quickly fired a round, but I was out of effective range and the bullet
zoomed past him harmlessly as he dove back into his room.
At that point a civilian called Simon emerged from a nearby room, enquired
about the situation and offered his help. I asked him to tell Roscoe there
was a bomb at his door, and then pretend to defuse it. He did it, even told
him I wasn't around anymore, but the criminal refused to open the door
anyway. Damn, time to change plans.
Back in the kitchen, a Beretta 92FS just like mine (what a coincidence)
somehow appeared in Simon's hands, and I promtply slit his throat - can't be
too careful these days. So I went back to Roscoe's door and heard the latch
being released, and soon after the sound of a cupboard door opening,
clothing hangers being moved, then the cupboard closing again. I had no idea
whether Roscoe had actually hidden inside the wardrobe or just tried to lure
me, so I stayed outside, hugging the wall, and opened the room door a few
inches from a distance. Roscoe's hand quickly appeared and fired two
revolver rounds into the wall opposite, widely missing me but leaving me
very scared. Time to get behind cover...
Over the following ten minutes or so, we basically took pot shots at each
other from behind cover, trying to guess each other's position. Eventually I
ran back out, picked up a mop, ran back to his door and dropped it through
his door as he was inching it open to take a peek, in such a manner that he
now could not close the door without retrieving the mop, and in turn could
not retrieve the mop without getting shot. I heard a few footsteps inside
his room while he considered his new situation, so I dropped to the floor so
that I could see the moving shadows of his feet through the thin gap
underneath the door. Once I figured out where he was, I dove into his room,
firing wildly... my 9mm hollowpoint rounds met his skull just as his .357
slugs tore my chest apart.
So I perish again, this time with a smile on my face... for now my soul can
rest in peace, as I have fulfilled the quest which brought me back from the
dimensions of the dead.
For eliminating this dangerous criminal, PC Hitman has been posthumously promoted to
Sergeant.
George has joined the police force
Dr Eeeevil had his plans foiled:
I Dr Eeeevil having successfully sneaked into the staircase, managed to see my target. Unfortunatly my intended victim blocked the shot of my pistol with a door. However all is not over he will be mine unless he coughs up the sum of one million dollars!
Navin John Galt Dasigi was riddled with bullets by
Kurgan
Navin Dasigi is dead. I applied chewing gum to his peep-hole, like
Mathilda from Leon and fed him some cock and bull story and his door opened.
A full 6 rounds from my cap gun later he was dead. A
good sport to the end he never disputed and his corpse had a dazed look as
I left. The backup plan was not needed.
Alex Hammer Cowan was garotted by Ghengis
Around eight o'clock Sunday night, a crowd of some six or seven bystanders
watched in horror as I ruthlessly garotted our mutual friend and my would-be
assassin Alex Cowan -- I'd learned his true identity from
a secret source
the previous evening. As his body slumped to the floor, followed moments
later by his cleanly severed head, my shady figure, unnoticed amidst the
confusion, snuck stealthily down a nearby staircase and vanished into the
night....
The bystanders were shocked but later identified Ghengis as Andrew Naish
Katie Red Braine was found dead clutching a letter
sent by
Electra King in her purple blotched fingers
You would have thought, wouldn't you, that living in a house far out of
town would protect Katie. But I trekked out to selfsame house and
delivered a poisoned letter for her. Well, it's only fair, isn't
it, because there really ought to be some sort of punishment for living in
such an inconvenient place.
Saturday the 14th began much like any other, I rose early in order to make
a flying visit to the library. Spent a while in town pottering about
deciding what my latest murder weapon could be. How innocent I was to my
new found world of assasination attempts and cold blooded murder! I got
back on my trusty bike and headed north, to the world they call "What
further away than Fitz" (no we live nearer than them this year!). I was
joined by my loyal friend and house mate, as we neared home. Once we
reached our road my suspicions were arroused, our bin had been moved! We
knew it had moved from its normal place, as it has been the topic of much
discusion over the past few weeks, as no one remembers bin day!!! We
thought no more of it, putting the mystery down to our perv of a landlord,
probably letting himself in to snoop around our knicker drawers!!!
As we let ourselves in we picked up our post. Stupid fool that I was, I knew
that I had already recieved the morning post before leaving home!!! The
official looking letter was addressed to me, but to Homerton! This being
the completly wrong address still didn't make me cop on. Too busy
debating the bin mystery, I ripped open the letter. Oh no, what is this,
deadly white poison on my hands, my friend in an attempt to save my life
takes the letter from me. What a tragedy, not only am I dying, she too
has also fallen victim to the man they call 'Jack the Snipper'. Alas I am
no more, it was a short life as a killer for me!!! But I want revenge
after my death, I want the death of my innocent friend to be avenged,
therefore I am making a request to join the Police force, to hunt out
those who harm the innocents of this world.
The killer is not wanted because letters are considered private to the people they are
addressed to.
Katie has joined the police force.
The Artiste charges James Milner
(The Dangerous Geezer) down:
The Royal Society of Executioners does not like criminals...
I talk to her and suddenly see someone with a big plastic axe...
Hence I go over to Caius to kill Estella...
I ask for directions in the plodge...
But then I meet the dead Estella outside...
She has already been killed by one of our number.
I get out my gun and sprint towards him...
He runs away...
But I run the 100m in less then 11 seconds...
But hey, noticing that I am catching up, he turns around...
This didn't help him at all...
Because he was hit in the chest by my shots...
Turning around when your opponent has a gun, is not necessarily a good
idea even if you have a big axe...
The Geezer reports:
The Dangerous Geezer proved less dangerous than once thought when he was
mercilessly gunned down outside Caius college last Sunday. Attempting to
show his mates the new axe he had just bought he unwittingly made himself a
target for two experienced assasins who, after chasing him out of the
college, shot him in the head and then pumped his lifeless corpse full of
bullets.
Kurgan paid a visit to Mad
Dog:
Payed a call on Andrew Gray in Churchill. I seem to
have underestimated him. A fierce firefight took place and I had to make a tactical
retreat under a cloud of plaster dust without accomplishing my mission. A
deserving opponent but one I will make the long walk to seek again.
So a few hours later, Kurgan went back:
After our earlier battle I was anxious to revisit Andrew
Gray in Churchill
as he had seen my face and lived. I waited until it was dark and luck
being on my side I saw him through the kitchen window. I crept upstairs
and kicked open the kitchen door - this time surprise was on my
side. Incredibly he managed to get his gun out but it was too late - one
shot and his brains were mixed with the delicious food he was preparing. A
brave opponent.
Mad Dog explains:
I was sitting in my room doing the
dull routine of my notes. There's a knock on the door. I had of
course locked it, in my wisdom. Then there's another knock. I
immediately grew suspicious, although my friends had been hoaxing for
days about being assassins.
"Who's that"
"There's a telephone call" Bollocks, thought I, as anyone ringing me
always uses my mobile. I looked through my spy-hole, but the cunning sod
had blocked it with blu-tack. In retrospect I should have climbed out of
the window, walked down the corridor and shot him, but that was with
hindsight. I grabbed the gun, opened the door and began to fire at my
assailant, who whipped around the corner and returned shots. Bullets
were flying everywhere, as lightbulbs smashed and plaster fell from the
walls. An innocent civilian, Des (my next door neighbour) opened the
door to see what the noise was about, and looked on in horror as my
assassin disappeared down the corridor. Both of us had run out of ammo
without killing the other.
"What's your name mate?" I shouted, in genuine friendliess, thinking
that I may as well offer my potential murderer a cup of tea (without
tabasco/posion) now that we both had empty weapons.
" Not saying" was the reply.
I kept alert the rest of the day. Despite assurances from my friend
Jamie (whose head is the only remaining part of him having been blown up
on Monday by a bomb) I kept a lookout. Kurgan was later seen peering
into my room, and all the while I kept my weapons to hand and even
searched the quadrangle for him a couple of times. No sign of him.
Letting my guard drop, I went into the kitchen to do some cooking. Just
as we were finishing, the door burst open. I whippd round and drew my
gun in a way that would have made Clint Eastwood and Billy the Kid look
like schoolboys, but it was too late. Kurgan had got me-he disappeared
with a grin on his face, as I slumper over the cooker, blood spurting
into someone's bolognese which they had left to simmer. Whether they
tasted it or not I don't know.
I left the kitchen, and crawled to the computer room, a trail of blood
flowing, knowing that it was my duty to send a report of my death if it
was the last thing I did. Kurgan was a worthwhile opponent. Even now, my
keyboard is drenched with blood-but as the light fades, there is one
message Mad Dog has for everyone else..."I'll be back"
Richard Ice Cube Wilkinson was poisoned by a gift from Queequeg.
The victim reports:
Dearly Beloved we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of the most
handsome, charming, totally inept Assassin EVER! Having spent the past week
hiding in the shadows, looking in all directions and paranoia being the
main stay of his existence, an Assassin came aknocking, rat tat tatting on
the door and in his youthful exuberance, willful neglect, naively answered,
where he was mercilessly gunned down. Although bleeding heavily He
mustered the last of his immense strength and crawled up 3 flights of
strength to his vet friend, who proceeded to castrate him instead of
removing the bullet from his stomach cavity. Having mutilated the body
and scared of taking the fall, she chopped up the now deceased into little
pieces and dumped him in the Cam, Where he became fish food. Willful
Neglect (AKA Alan Harper) had a short stay on this Earth, but his
innocence and naivety will be correted for his next ressurection where he
will kill you ALL ,HA HA HA HA HA!!
Bjoern Holzhauer fell for a case of mistaken identity and killed an innocent. As such, he is now wanted.
It all started this morning, when I accidentally confused an innocent with
one of my targets.
The innocent left the correct door, but sadly turned out to be my target's
house-mate.
Hence I decided that I should redeem myself by killing wanted
criminals.
Seeing as I was still half-asleep, I didn't really look at the list I
printed out. I only realised that some criminals were marked as Criminal
Overlord Psycho (CoP), so I didn't dare to visit them and some were marked
as Pathetic Criminals (PC), so I thought I ought to kill some of those.
I went over to Harvey Court, but on the way there I was followed by a guy
in a black coat, whom I shot.
There I visited PC Edward Wallace,, who was friendly
enough to
open his
door and to die just afterwards...
Just a few doors away LIVED PC Eloise Phipps. She also
opened her door upon me knocking and also died....
Before I left HC I shot another dodgy looking guy and gassed the entrance
area of the computer room.
I also contact poisoned the door lock of K-block, Harvey Court.
Andrew Thornton was brutally murdered by Bjoern Holzhauer.
Next I visited Queens' College, where I gassed and contact poisoned everything in various places.
When I was just leaving, suddenly Andrew Thornton
wandered into the court. He tried to sneak away, but I had spotted him, so when he saw me
sprinting towards him, he drew one of the BOFH's rubber-band-guns.
I drew as well and a violent fight ensued.
I had the edge due to my throwing knives, one of which finally severed his
head from the rest of his body.
The Obfuscated Tutorial System speaks:
I entered Queens via the Dockett gate and who should I see but the Bjoern
and his accomplice just near the entrance to the jcr office. I ran to seek
shelter hoping that they had not seen me not knowing that Bjoern had gone
wanted and hence was bound to try to kill me. Cheap rubber bands were what
got me and not using my superior knowledge of Queens to my advantage. I
ran straight onto Erasmus dodging a few knives that were thrown wildly at
me and realised immediately that I was doomed. Had I ran into M staircase I
could have... but the moment is gone and now I am dead, killed by an
orange throwing knife...
Dan Kharn the Betrayer Williams was brought to
justice by PC Estella
I've been assasinated by Gemma Mitchell (PC Estella).
She lured me into opening my door with tales of a pub crawl...
"Never trust women offering you alcohol" my mother always told me. Now I
know why...
For this noble act, PC Estella has been promoted to
Sergeant
Dan has joined the police force
Now there were several PCs in John's that were still alive, hence visit to
John's.
When I was finally standing in PC Tim Redding's room, I
wondered why there
was blood all over the place, until I realised that my depleted uranium
shells sometimes tend to make a mess.
PC Sam Birch has changed his colour due to the gas that
had entered his
room, he was also riddled with bullets.
PC Phil Bennett was attacked as well, gas entered his
room through under
his door, his door handle was contact poisoned and he opened the door when
I knocked, but he says he only suffered minor injuries from my shots.
He most likely died of the poison gas though as he didn't wear a gas
mask.
Then I realised the PCs in Churchill might feel left out if I didn't
visit them as well.
I started of with contact poisoning and gassing round PC
Szatmary's
room.
I dispatched two weird looking people that kept staring at me.
PC Lyons was working hard on an essay, so I thought I
should save him from
spending any time with police work...
He happened to be sitting in his open room, now he's got more time for his
essay (i.e. eternity).
PC Lyons relates:
I have been shot by an unknown assailant. I was on the phone and was caught
unawares. I was shot in deltoid area and died of hypovolaemic shock.
This is a serial cop killer. Cops be on your guard.......
I nearly forgot to report that I murdered PC Mike Smith, you know, you just tend to loose count...
PC Smith tells the tale:
Alas, I have fallen, and couldn't be at a worse time.
I was sat at my desk, struggling with the essay I have to finish in the
next hour, and what should happen? I hear a spray from the corridor, what
is this, then a masked assassin enters my room and shoots me dead, and I
slump across my desk. The irony of it all is that my desk was so full with
books, that my gun was lying cocked and ready, just out of grasp on my bed.
To make things worse, the killer gloated as he watched my last gasps of
air, telling me of his triumphs earlier that day, and of those from last year.
Damn those villains.
One day I will return
On the way back to my abode, I dropped in on PC
Fluffycop, whose door was unlocked.
She wasn't in, but the retired master-assassin Alex Churchill was lying on
the floor, reading a book and eating jelly babies.
I was hungry, so he ate a bullet and I ate the jelly babies.
With his corpse littering the floor I proceeded to contact poison a few
items in the room: the door-lock (with a label saying:"lock me"), the door
handle, a few light switches, her cups, most drawers, the wardrobe, a pack
of chips and some other stuff. For some reason the corpse kept on
twitching when I tried to contact poison him.
Someone looking like Steven Cooper was murdered with extreme predjudice
whilst walking down Silver Street. Due to his non-existent reaction I
assume he was not a player and probably not even Steven Cooper; he looked
like him though.
PC Fluffycop reports:
There was somebody in my room. I wasn't in. An innocent died. All of my
possessions were contact poisoned and I didn't know which. I'm dead.
Martin White fell prey to a poisoned letter sent by Rahmat
Considering my past tours through Cambridge, I realised I had never been
to Downing and PC Fallaize provided a reason for visiting
the place.
Upon arrival I spotted two people standing outside his door, whom I
dispatched. They seemed to be innocents, so I entered into Dave's
empty and unlocked room.
The innocents then pointed out to me that Dave would
probably be in another room with a friend. Well, there he was. I shot him and his
innocent friend.
They suggested I might be wanted for doing this.
Wanted meeeeee?
I'm not, am I?
To my surprise I had discovered a new PC on the "wanted by me" list, PC
James Milner, so I went over to his room and did some gassing and contact
poisoning. Just standard procedures, nothing special.
A suspicious character and an entire innocent person were shot.
Happily walking across the streets,
Armed with just 107 weapons,
And as it sometimes happens,
That someone meets,
You when walking past a bin,
So can it also turn out,
To be Harland Quinn.
He screamed quite loud,
As due to what I did,
He again matched bandit,
I knifed his left arm,
Then I fired a rubber band,
That did deadly harm,
To him and an innocent.
Bandit though escaped this time,
As you do now from this bad rhyme.
Love and Huggles,
Electra
Harland Quinn is also known as Stu Gill
For no reason whatsoever I was in K staircase Caius, when one of my
accomplices pointed out that a person had been following down the
stairs.
My accomplice suggested I ought to shoot this person, but I was reluctant
at first, until I saw he had that undefineable assassin-look to him.
Hence I shot him with the words:"I might as well."
He turned out to be an assassin.
He was in fact Nicholas Martin Blank Easom
I was randomly dispatched by one of a group of three suspicious looking
people as I was wandering around St Mary's court at Caius on Wednesday
evening. They decided I looked suspicious and took me out with one shot,
and then asked if I was by chance an assassin. I was, so now I'm not. They
didn't give me their names, but assured me they were already wanted.
Late this evening I was about to go to bed, when I heard
clashing shinai, announcing that someone was practising the way of the
sword. They were very loud, so I went over there and holding my own
weapon in sageto, then I waited patiently outside the gym, focusing
calmly to reach the state of zan-shin.
When they had finished practising the forms, they started coming out
of the building one by one.
Amongst them one stood out: slightly taller than the others the heron mark
on his shinai identified him clearly as Dan Seymour, whom
I considered
to be one of the worst threats to my life.
When he saw me it was nearly too late, I had drawn and moved from the
Tower of Morning stance into Boar rushes down the
mountain.
He tried to parry with Parting the silk, but I had already moved
into The river undercuts the bank and delivered a deadly blow
to his hakama.
This resulted in a jikaku-mushi and made me the shiai-kyohi of this
fight.
Dan Semisane Seymour reports:
Having finished the evenings training, it was in a calm and peacful mood
that we left the dojo. Then, a rustling from the shadows. In an instant I
assume kamai, my hand finding the hilt of my shinai. Yet my assailant has
neither a sword nor armour, so honour prevents my beheading him. Instead
he is armed with the epitome of dishonour. As such I would like to report
a complete victory over the wanted criminal known as Electra
King, for
although I finished the night riddled with bullets, in death I preserved my
honour and in his cowardice Electra lost his. All heroes
die young.
Due to this, my karma is high enough to warrent reincarnation as a protector of the faith, known to the mere mortals as the police force. Don't panic Electra, just be afraid. Very, very afraid.
Ed The Reaper Cooper died cleanly, at the hands of Bjoern:
This morning I visited Edward Cooper from Downing college.
I found his
room unlocked and empty.
Where could he be?
Ahh, I heard someone taking a shower, so I went to the shower and waited
for him. If never seen anyone who took a longer shower than this one, but
finally he came out and was shot.
Bombs were planted on the doors of PC Roscoe and Sergeant Estella. Sergeant Estella's bomb was a dud, but as for PC Roscoe:
Whilst awaiting my revival into the legions of death we call the police, and quite enjoying the newfound peace and quiet, my corpse lay decomposing next to Sergent Martinez. It was very nice and realaxing just watching the days go by until the local necromancer arrrived, however, someone had a plan to ruin my beautiful view... What with being dead, I hadn't had a chance to shut my door properly so this meant that on a particularly windy day (I couldn't shut the windows either. Death is a little limiting.) the door swayed a bit. So imagine the surprise that I couldn't move my face to represent when one time the door swayed and set of a bomb. This was most annoying as, as well as really making a mess it removed almost two thirds of my neighbours room as well, including his bed, which he was in. Although this now meant that Sergeant Martinez and I both had another person to talk to, he (Mike) was just a little pissed off as he had to hand an assignment in. The only satisfaction I got was from seeing so much carnage because of me... Owing to me we now have 3 dead assassins (counting me), one dead police officer, two dead innocents and two corpses being disintegrated totally unnecessarily. That's quite messy really...
Unfortunately for PC Roscoe he'd come back to life at 4am that morning...
Bjoern Holzhauer blew himself up whilst bombing PC Mole:
The story from the fiend himself:
My last kill was a stunning double kill, in which I removed both PC
Phil Bennett and a wanted criminal from the game.
The problem being that the wanted criminal was me, as I blew both of us up
with a bomb.
Then I realised I hadn't been on the "wanted list" I had printed out and
when I died, it finally dawned on me that it must have been the police
list...
I really didn't mean to...
You all do believe me, don't you?
A mystic contacted the spirit of PC The Mole:
Despite having multiple attacks upon my life yesterday by the Bjoern, escaping by the skin of my door from a massive gunshot
wound, then by the screams of my fellow policeman Sam Birch from walking into the
poison gas filled corridor, I was criminally incautious this morning, as I
staggered out of my door at 8:25. Into the smiling face of Bjoern,
who was bombing my door with a gigantic 4m blast radius bomb.
As if this was not enough, as the blast's shockwave expanded, and I was being vapourised, the rogue shot me "to make sure".
The resulting blast liquefied this proud policeman, Bjoern, and most of the surrounding floor. And ceiling.
Splat..
Chief Garrett is dead, having been mistaken for an
assassin by Dave Hammond
After carefully tracking down a certain psychopath, I lay in wait
outside the Mill Lane lecture theatres. My efforts were not in vain -
Bjoern appeared along with a multitude of other suspicious
characters.
Sadly for me, as my slugs sped towards him I noticed the spell of
decomposing flesh and the slight greenish tinge to his skin. Even more
sadly, I then felt half my internal organs disappear as "Dave
Hammond"
stood there grinning and pointing at my gun. I'll remember this, damn you.
It is a nice sunny afternoon, my lectures are finished and there is no
reason for me to be worried about anything seeing as I have died in the
morning.
Chief Garrett is sitting on his bike a bit further down
the road, the
birds are singing - Wait! Why on earth would Matt Garrett
be here? He wouldn't intend to kill me, would he? Well, let's talk to him and find
out.
So I walk down the street and whilst I friendly greet him, he is
desperately struggling to get something out of his coat...
What could he be up to?
He isn't going to shoot me is he? That would be a mistake, seeing as half
a dozen assassins are in the immediate vicinity and might shoot him for
bearing weapons.
I am about to warn Matt, when he finally manages to
wriggle his gun free
and shoots me.
As a result someone shot him with a rubber band, but when I looked around
I couldn't see anyone with a weapon out, so the attacker must have
been very fast so that nobody noticed who it was...
Chief Wowbagger responds:
Ha! My evil stunt-double strikes again! Clearly, my karma had been
immesurably disturbed by having to share the Chief-Of-Police rank, so my
cunning doppleganger demoted my counterpart to Corpse-Of-Police rank.
Chief Wowbagger, one of whom is sometimes "Dave Hammond", unless he's not, in which
case he *is* Dave Hammond, but not *Dave
Hammond*.
You have the right to remain perplexed.
Ruth Spaghetti Allin was succumbed to two(!) poisoned letters, one from Daisy and the other from Rahmat.
The power of Daisy surely knows no bounds!
Dominique Chan Wai Chung was executed by Nym:
Dominique Chan Wai Chung was killed tonight by Nym. He was expecting friends and unsuspectingly opened his door without checking his spyhole. A black clad Nym shot him swiftly in the head. The victim's reaction was dull to say the least...
Steve The Hairy Canary Arch was murdered by Greenmonster:
greenmonster also went to hunt down steve arch and this attempt was SUCCESSFUL. upon arrival at his door, he was not present, but his roommate was, and this roommate invited us inside to wait for steve. his roommate offered us peanuts as well. as steve entered the room, greenmonster pulled out her gun and blew him away. bang bang.
The witnesses present told police that Greenmonster was in fact Nidhi Mohnot
Stelf perforated Dan The Dandylion Owen
After a particularly productive session at CULSS [Cambridge University Life Saving Society... Have YOU joined yet ? plug plug] I felt slightly ashamed of killing Dan as he's a bit of a top bloke and a damn good teacher. Nevertheless, I stapped him repeatedly in the back with a trident, to keep the water-based theme, and experienced only slight problems when the shaft got caught between two broken ribs. Luckily, I had already punctured the left kidney and the amount of blood lubricated the bones enough to allow the shaft to slide free and for me to take a final blow. And then some more for good measure. And then a couple more because it was so much fun.
Index * Week 1 Week 2 * Week 3 * Week 4 * Week 5 * Week 6 * Duel