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Friday 3 November

Jon Extreme Animal Ellis was found dead in Fitz mailroom:

As ever, I wasn't feeling too sharp when I rolled out of my room this morning, so when I picked up a blank envelope from my pigeon hole I didn't stop and think. I opened it and paid the price with my life. Oh well, never mind eh? it was signed by P6 and Tion, if you're interested.

In your experience, is being dead a valid excuse for not turning up to labs? I was thinking of using it the next time I didn't feel like it...

St. John Costello (The Saint) was sliced by Jack o'Knaves:

He covered his tracks with many false trails, but that didn't save him when I discovered his party and disguised myself as a guest. When the time was right, I palmed my knife and asked for another cocktail, and brutally slit open his torso as soon as his back was turned. As he slumped all over the table, and his entrails spilled out onto the floor, the rest of the guests fled screaming, so I was forced to finish my own cocktail, and even to finish all the remaining drink on my own. The things I do for fun...

Christan Mr Orange Asby was terminated by Inspector Estella:

Scanning the wanted list, I saw there were only a few wanted criminals left - fortunately, Cristian Asby is a friend of my boyf, so while on a visit to Casby's house, the perfect opportunity for justice emerged: (summarized version of events follows):
boyf: "Hi Casby, this is Gemma."
Casby: "Hi, come in"
Me [pulls out cap gun]: BANG BANG "sorry, I'm in the police force"
Casby: "....?"

Saturday 4 November

The Emperor Dermot shot Angus Epi-epi-phtangtang Murray:

finally a target i know, just in time too!!! i waited for him to return from satrday lectures and ran ahead to his gyp room. clomp clomp clomp he went up the stairs. clomp clomp clomp as he unlocked the door. "angus murray?" he nodded "rest in peace" i said as i shot him with the black plastic sixshooter i borrowed from a friend. BANG BANG BANG BANG BAND BANG he's dead!!!

The victim recounts:
today whilst returning from a chemistry lecture i was walking to my room with my mind on other things when, from behind a corner sprung an assasin (whose name i have already forgot) who killed me mercilessly with a rubber band gun shot to the gut. i could only lay on the floor in agony, slowly bleeding to death as he cackled to himself and stealthily left the vicinity of the kill.

Reuter wasn't removed by Dark Night:

Dark Night has struck silently and swiftly. The victim, was off guard, lazily reclining in bed. The door was unlocked; he told me to enter, and I entered the shadowed darkness. Three shots to the head put an end to his foolish pleadings. It exploded and his spirit departed to Hades.

Unfortunately for Dark Night, this wasn't his intended victim but a friend who'd come to stay for the weekend. For the crime of killing an innocent victim, Charles Andrew Clarke is now wanted

Oliver The Bitch Pearson found it all a bit much:

Due to a severe lack of effort and general fifth week blues, I decided yesterday that suicide was my only option. In an elaborate and well worked plot. I placed a piano on the top of Cripps Court so it was tilted and about to fall. I ran down the stairs of my staircase and awaited the piano's fall in a "Who framed Roger Rabbit meets the old Heinz Ketchup advert that had Matt Le Blanc in it involving him running down stairs just in time to let the ketchup fall into his newly-bought hot-dog" onto my head. My blood splattered all over the floor as the instrument resounded on my crushed skull. With a sound reminiscent of early Schoenberg my career as an assassin did finish.

A bomb blew up his ghost shortly afterwards.

Rick The Orange Walrus of Doom Griffiths was annihilated by The Emperor Dermot:

wow, i'm on a roll here!!! my replacement target was from trinity so i went to kill him because trinity is silly!!! but he wasn't in and his neighbour said he was playing football and i was hungry so i came back later after mcdonalds. when i got back and went to knock on his door his neighbour's door opened and someone came towards me so i asked if he was rick and he said hang on a minute and ran away!!! i shot him with my cool sixshooter gun, BANG BANG BANG, the carpet was really messy when i stopped!!!!!

Joseph Captain Penguin Zuntz is dead, slain by the valiant Heroman

Defeating the dragon of doom and renouncing the throne of Silmaria in lieu of further adventures, Heroman(thats me) has now come to the land of Canterbridge to rid it of the vilest of scourge....the R.O.U.S. yes it is true, the land is infested with Rodents of Unusual Size. This particular variety is man-size and need to be eliminated.Our story begins now.....

Gathering my trusty sword I went to a colony of ROUS's. The dreaded cripp court of Queen's college, the spawning ground of the odious creatures. Using my tracking skills I discovered the lair of one of these beasts.
Heroman(knocks on beast lair entrance)
ROUS: Cirrip, chirp snarl (Who is it?)
HEROMAN: It is I, slayer of dragons, destroyer of goblins, the doom of Baba Yaga as I shall be of yours (It's me.)
ROUS(shuffles forth and sticks twitching snout out of lair and anticipates danger) heroman notes that the beast towers a foot over him but is not daunted.
Heroman heaves sword through the opening it twice(an odd sort of sword it is)
The rodent cries out its death call: ack rrrtgg uck uck (Bugger)
So having disposed of the critter I hauled its carcass out and roasted it.

The dead one reports:

I, Captain Penguin have gone to the great aviary in the sky. All my paranoia has been for nothing - all it took was one murderous fiend bearing a pistol (a most unsporting weapon) knocking at my door, and answering my cunning question "Who is it?" with a truthful if somewhat misleading "It's me" in an accent slightly close to that of a friend who I was expecting. I incautiously opened the door, and was met with two shots in the head at point blank range.

So it goes.

Sunday 5 November

More incompetents are up on the wanted list

Deputy Chief Wiggum mashed Dr Eeeeeevil (Duncan Shaw):

Today the Chief informed me that the evil Dr Eeeevil was wanted for trying to press a million dollars out of his targets and for incompetence.
But best of all, I would be allowed to use a discretionary amount of violence when arresting him.
This information prompted my appearance in Kings' a few minutes after Dr Eeeevil had become wanted. His sinister plans where spoiled by the fact that he just left and locked his room, when I entered his corridor.
Unlike any other evil overlord before he did not try to flee, nor did he try to draw a weapon. After a warning shot, with which I missed him (of course deliberately), he just raised his hands and said:"I knew this would happen."
Hmmmpf...there was no real reason for excessive violence and I simply shot him.
But be assured, I'll find some justification for more extreme methods soon.

Andy Baldwin has been declared officially dead, since he hasn't been seen for a week.
Some nights ago the police force descended on his room. PC Semisane reports:

Upon driving down the poor person and then backing over dog and body, Inspector Wiggum, myself and Dave Hammond decided that extra community service was needed to pacify the spirit. So we pulled up to consult the map, and lo, to our left, was Burrell's field. In we went, hard and fast, submachine guns covering all areas of the room, flash grenades stunning the occupants. Which consisted of a chair and his alarm clock.
Realising this Dave breaks open the poison and poisons the off button of his alarm clock. Reading that poison must be used within 1 hour of opening it, Dave realised that he had to finish the vial and so coated almost every surface, including but not limited to the underside of his ruler, 2 of the 3 light switchs, his razor, his toothpaste, every drawer and cupboard handle and his chair. I foolishly said I'd never planted a bomb, so a lage quantity of semtex was pressed into my hands. Using a detonator owned by the victim I primed a bomb for the following morning, just before the boaties arise. DI Wiggum, meanwhile had found some nerve bore worm larvae, so he safely disposed of them in the targets shoes.

Forensic analysts studying the scene say that he probably died from the poison and got eaten by the maggots which were blown up by the bomb.

Monday 6 November

Psycosix gutted CHP Assassin (Reuter):

The knife slid into his Belly and up to his chest, keen edge sliding easily through the flesh until it met bone. Eviscerated where he stood, his bowls falling out and to the floor despite his weakening attempts to put them back in. As quickly as he had appeared Psycosix left the scene, casually melting back into the herd of humanity as if nothing had happened. Indeed to those still living nothing had...yet.

It was just another victory in his own personal war of attrition. Only six billion more to go...

Reuter's ghost gave this comment:
i died. just to confirm. plus, it wasn't my fault. I had just done like two whole hours of maffs, and thats enough to make anyone lose their guard. shame i lost my insides. but mysterious backpack on psycosix? a trademark per etre?

Tuesday 7 November

Dr Ineptitude killed Rob White Knight Percival with a poisoned letter:


I laugh in the face of the incompetents list! You shall never catch me on it!

Rob Percival shall die! Slowly! Painfully! Such as Kenneth Branagh would do in a death scene! His death from a cunning poisoned letter shall freeze the spines of the Trinity Hall porters with terror!



The victim speaks:
Fair cop, my friends. The talcum powder letter brought my miserable career to an end.
But there's always next term...

Graham Mad Boy Spuddock Lehr fell under The Curse of Scotland:

Och aye, as we say, he nim griffit tay honce. Wi' muckle cannieness, ah fess doun t'close o'Bene't wynd, tae byde int vennel o'McGraham's hame. Inkenspeckle, an aw t'ken couthie oniebodie, glaikit McGraham didna awa seme wena he retined. I tak' oot my ain wee McMagnum an aw shoot im, byt afore ee lave hi'bodie, he di'a few wi' anither McGunn o'his ain. I dinna fash mysel, fer ah wist th'gie mickle fash wi' me muckle spide, an' sae I lave caller an' braw afore t'stramash.

This evil fiend must be stopped before he sends me any more kill reports.

Wednesday 8 November

Aditya Mansingh was found dead this morning, clutching an oddly corroded spoon. It looks like the work of the subtle Kelpie:

Horrors of horrors. Someone actually came all the way out here and killed me! Some fiend did not want me to have a good breakfast and so poisoned my cutlery. I died an agonising death thinking of all the cap gun rounds I had left and of all the victims on my list. But even as I died my last words were "cutlery poisoning breakfast denying fiend, I will shoot you with my trusty sword NEXT term". One might argue that swords tend not to shoot live ammunition however you will be too dead to engage me in any sort of debate.

yours sincerely

Queequeg aka Archancellor Nokes aka Abdul the Bul-Bul Amir aka Heroman (but the umpire never printed that report of mine, he too shall die next term)

P.S. the fiend also poisoned my HP sauce bottle. Is there no end to his fiendishness?

Adam The Phantom Fresher Jackson has pegged it, courtesy of The Emperor Dermot:.

i didnt want to kill him, he's almost a neighbor, but i had too!!! he wasn't really incompetant, just busy, but if i didn't i'd be incompetant and everyone would gang up on me. there's only room for one here, and so i knocked on andrew's door KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK and he opened it bANG BANG BANG and i felt sad.

Andrew Genghis Naish-Guzman has passed beyond the veil. His journey was facilitated by Dave Hammond:

Visiting the local McD's forms an essential part of my week, the Big Mac perfectly supplementing the nutritious Hall meals I've grown to love. However, upon my return I was dismayed to find a dark figure lurking in the shadows of my room; curse my trusting nature, for once again I had left the door wide open. I raised my regular fries in a valiant effort at self-defence, but they proved of little use against the hail of bullets hitting my face.... The rest, as they say, is history.

Today, one student was the recipient of a potentially lethal letter:

Someone finally got round to trying to kill me again. It was the rather strangly named 'Our man in Cambridge' or Grahame Greene as he kindly signed his letter. Unfortunatly unmarked envalopes addressed to me but posted in Cambridge look rather sus. and therefore I went to the silly but nessicay steps of tying a scarf round my face, wearing a glove and opening the envalope from the wrong end. Feeling rather like a mason I carefully unfolded the enclosed note informing me of my demise. As in the case of Mark Twain such comments were greatly exagerated as through my glove the poison could have little effect. Leaving the letter out to rid my surroundings of slugs I can only apologise to the emerald one for my continued vitality.

Ashley Lane (Dr. Ineptitude) and Chief Wiggum shot one another

It is finished. My work has been done.

I was warned by a certain person that a notorious assassin, wanted to kill me, and was planning an ambush on me at Trinity Winstanley Lecture Theatre. He suggested that I set up a counter ambush, and I decided, given the ferocity of Caius' killers, to go for a do-or-die attack.

I arrived at 6.00pm- they would arrive, I was told, at 6.30. But, as fate, who likes to watch men slip on the banana skin of fortune, would have it, ::name witheld:: and Bjoern Holzhauer, two men almost certain to be in the later ambush, had just finished a supervision in said court. They saw me. ::name witheld:: (who I was later informed during the fight was the real person after me) scarpered, the coward, leaving Holzhauer to take care of me. This struck me as being rather ungentlemanly when I heard, but I was certain that Holzhauer was more than willing to blast another person carrying a supersoaker (To his shame, he had left his at home).

We stood a long distance apart, he lobbing knives, I throwing grenades. It was clear that on our own, neither could get the other. And certain thoughts collected in my mind. He had killed many of my compatriots. Becker, Thornton, de Zalenski, Fairley, had all died by his hand, and that was only this term. Last Lent he had even deprived me of sleep by mounting an unsuccessful raid on my room at 2.00am on Sunday morning. Now, if we remained where we were, his friends would turn up, with larger supersoakers. He could warn them and my advantage would be lost.

Consequently I decided it was perfectly rational, whether he was a policeman or not, to take him with me. I charged him, got him into a corner and as he fired bullets into my chest I blasted him to hell. My last sight as I collapsed was of huge globs of flesh attached to the wall behind him. I was dying, but it had not been in vain. Simply the prestige of killing him was enough.

The porters soon arrived to clean away our corpses and use them for Trinity Formal Halls. ::name witheld:: still lives, but one hopes his cowardice will be an eternal source of shame to him.

Let me just apologise for Rob Percival's death, for it was I who sent him the letter. But I died not as Dr Ineptitude, but as Baron Vitellio Scarpia...

Good hunting for the survivors,

Bjoern reports:
I had just finished an overly long supersvison and was happily chatting to my supervision partner, when I suddenly noticed Dr Ineptitude with a big supersoaker and a bag full of water bombs waiting in the Court.
I urged my friend to flee, whilst I engaged the assailant despite the fact that I had only a minimal amount of weapons on me - you know "Protect the innocent", "Duty is as heavy as a mountain and death is as light as a feather" and all such rubbish. Well, next time I'll make sure that mountain crashes down onto someone else.

Dr Ineptitude proved to be far from inept, dodging my throwing knives with ease and giving me a hard time evading his shots and grenades. Yet at first he kept retreating, probably fearing my innocent friend could intervene (he was apparently hiding in a toilet, because he was afraid of getting wet).
Then I ran out of knives and only had a hand gun left that due to the wind conditions had about half the range of Ashley's supersoaker. When he realised this he charged me. It was obvious that I wouldn't last very long if I stayed outside, so I went into an stairway, thereby reducing the maximum free path length for a bullet to about a meter.
Dr Ineptitude was suicidal enough to follow me inside and we shot each other in a short but violent exchange of fire.

Paivi Rahmat Pasi was terminated by COPERDROID

Oh yes, the mindless carnage has demanded another victim - unfortunately it was me. I will never know what happened. One moment I was pleasantly slumbering with my Arabic textbook, the next I lie bleeding on the floor, brutally murdered by two heavily armed gentlemen, who had by some undoubtedly vile means managed to breach through my carefully locked door. At least I thought I had locked it, but alas, that was not the case. Well, at least I got the moral revenge by offering them a cup of my notoriously bitter coffee, after which the said gentlemen gave me some professional advice on waste disposal before disappearing into the night.

This communication appeared on my screen from COPERDROID:



Her corpse was then clubbed by Tion:

Deciding I really must make some sort of effort I descended on Newnham with assorted weaponry to attack Paivi Pasi, head of my target list. After several fruitless visits I eventually found her in. The 'girl' who answered the door answered to the name of Paivi so was rendered unconcious. Unfortunatly she then informed she was already dead but hadn't yet sent in a report, and of course my cosh was too feble to make have any effect on the undead. Mutter, mutter, mutter

Thursday 9 November

Claire Bordenave was shot by the wicked Pam:

You're never paranoid enough i've just learned today. Unfortunately for me i've paid the lesson with my life.

It was a nice, fine, evening, my last supervision of the week having just been finished.

Whistling, i prepared myself to go and see Paivi Pasi for information, successively taking my jumper, my coat, my scarf, my first rubber-band gun, my second rubber-band gun, my water pistol, my knife, half a dozen throwing knives and two water bombs. Thought i should be safe with that... The irony, the irony !

Once this done, i went outside, checked nobody was in the bathroom and then headed towards Old Hall. The troubles began in the stairs of the aforementioned building. Some woman bumped into me as i was reaching the second floor ; as i was pushing the door, she retained me to say sorry.


Just after telling her it was ok i turned my head to discover...


The laughing face of the sinister Pam who had been hiding in the corner !!!!!!


Before i could have the time to formulate to myself the question "but what on earth is he doing *HERE* ?!" (or to do anything for that matter), all my life passed before me but i've decided to spare you the details. :)


Inquisition Post-Mortem


Large hole where the heart used to be. Looks like a dissapointingly quick


Documents were found amongst Claire's possessions which revealed that she was Varys the Eunuch and Graham Greene.

Index * Week 1 * Week 2 * Week 3 * Week 4 * Week 5 * Week 6 * Duel