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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
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 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.

Saturday 14 October

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.
Queequeg: Knock Knock
Michael: Come in
Q:Knock Knock
Door opens
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.
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.

Sunday 15 October

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 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... 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:

  1. Spiros didn't even know the game had started until he was already dead.
  2. Spiros was killed by possibly the lamest weapon possible.
  3. Kharn can't even spell "poisen" properly.
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.

Monday 16 October

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...
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 talk to her and suddenly see someone with a big plastic axe...
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.

James has joined the police force

Tuesday 18 October

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.

Wednesday 19 October

A.G.S. Harper died today from a gunshot wound, from Queequeg's gun:

I had staked out his place twice already and both times he was out or at leat thats what he wanted me to believe. The third time I went, his nameplate said out again. I became suspicious and knocked on his door. The bold repsonse surprised me. He said nad I quote "just a minute" and the door opened. Was he prepared? Would I die , outwitted by my own prey? Apparently not. Even as my gun whipped out Harper's lightning reflexes put up a defense. Fortunately for him the first shot didnt fire. Unfortunately for him the second did and the aforementioned defense was his hand. Thus a bullet of mine had a rendezvous with Harper's aortic region. A jolly good chap though, his last words were, and I quote "cheers"

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

Bjoern's rampage continues:

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

Bjoern carries on unchecked:

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,

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.

Bjoern's last kill of the day:

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.

Thursday 19 October

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.


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