Wanted Alex Wilbur
Sat in front of me in a lecture.
Red mist descended.
So I followed him out and shot him.
Red mist cleared
and I have to copy up lots of lecture notes.
Kunal Gupta of Downing left his door unlocked, and a neighbour let me into the house. So I shot him too.
I decided to kill the wanted criminal Hannah Burton in revenge for the killing of David Knipe in revenge for the killing of Isobel Hooper. The previous day, I'd sent her a note demanding protection money (biscuits) but nothing appeared, so I felt compelled to kill her. Seeing her standing around in Trinity Street, unaware of the dangers of messing about with "Dangerous Dave", I pulled out my weapon and shot her. Splinter groups of the "Trinity mafia" will be eliminated! (unless you give me some biscuits).
For killing a proper wanted criminal, PC Spectre is made sergeant.
I must report my unfortunate death, in a very disreputable
corruption scandal. I returned from lectures this morning, exhausted after a hard
morning's struggle with exact differential equations and the Mobius group,
to find my pigeonhole in the mail room, so long empty, stuffed with a vast
pile of correspondence.
Puzzled by who could want so badly to contact a mere boring Trinity
mathmo, I retrieved the pile and sorted through. Among the usual college
bills I found a sinister piece of paper.
"WANTED?" it read. "WANT PROTECTION? SIMPLY LEAVE SOME BOURBON CREAMS IN YOUR PIGEONHOLE. THE POLICE".
I immediately panicked. Bourbon Creams?! I am a healthy eater! I would not
have bourbon creams within twenty miles of me! Overcome by fear, I fled to
my room, pausing only to wonder what degenerate constable would dare to
ask for such bribes.
Unfortunately, I had been followed. As I stood outside my door frantically
fumbling with the key, I was confronted by a figure holding a large gun.
Sensing the game was up, I offered no resistance as he opened fire,
leaving me slumped on my own doorstep in a pool of blood, ruining my
carpet (and I thought it couldn't look any more foul).
So I will fall silent, and continue the struggle with 1A Differential Equations from beyond the grave. Well, we always said it could be done while asleep, so this is the logical continuation.
This from the bobby on the beat:
I'd decided to visit the mailroom after eliminating Hannah Burton
to remove the note I'd left for David Loeffler, in case he worked out who
it was from and decided to kill me. With porters around, I didn't want to
be caught removing a threatening message from somebody else's pigeonhole,
so I waiting around for a couple of minutes when somebody who looked like
a photo of David Loeffler walked in. Laughing at the note he'd just
received, he went back to his room, where he discovered that crime is no
laughing matter. Facing the spectre of defeat, David claimed not to
possess any Bourbon Creams as he was on a DIET, and refused to give in to
extortion (after all, SPECTRE is the SPecial Executive for
Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion. The four great
corner-stones of power, headed by the greatest brains in the world).
"Goodbye, Mr Loeffler."
David's ghost then found something more in his mail:
My undead spectre continued to open the pile of mail. Along with a tuition fees bill I found a cunningly disguised poisoned letter, purporting to be from the University Examinations Authority, by which I was entirely taken in. However, being already deceased, I am saved the bother of carrying out the extravagant blackmail demands made in the letter. Incidentally, it was signed in an illegible scrawl resembing "Galidi", with the words "Scotty B. - A philosopher on a quest" written underneath. Perhaps this will allow you to identify the culprit.
As per usual I arrived in the office before any of my contemporaries this morning. Waiting for me was a fax from the VIP, wanting to know why I had not fulfilled the contract sent to me on Sunday. I can only say that I was very disappointed in myself that I had not been successful. The VIP's fax said that I would no longer be handling any of his contracts due to my incompetence. Well you win some and you lose some. This particular VIP I had lost, but I was in luck later that morning as a letter arrived for me from The Syndicate offering me other employment. It appeared that I was needed for a spot of headhunting, and I could only oblige. The intended target was Nima Mehdian of Downing. I checked my database for details of the miscreant and was glad to find both a mugshot and details of his Department. Now I was fortunate in that I had a contact in this particular department, an old friend from school who was now working for rival firm, Mercernary Management Consultants. I called him and he was glad to assist for the usual fee. He was able to tell me what meeting Mr Mehdian would be leaving from, and when the time came, he was absolutely correct. Needless to say that I fulfilled the last part of the contract with military precision, a single shot being enough. Satisfied that this time I would be getting a big fat bonus cheque, I went for lunch at Midsummer House.
Agent Rentell is promoted to Special Agent for killing a properly wanted criminal.
Having gained entrance to downing via a friend of a friend, I managed to get introduced to 2 people on the wanted list. Quite unwittingly our contact had pointed them out, not knowing our bloody motives. One of them was my personal target, the other wanted scum. I fired quickly shooting Harriet Groom once, and then emptied the rest of my clip into Liam Maclean. Unfortunately, Harriet was already dead, but Liam puts up another kill for Culexus.
A victim's-eye view:
After having had a meal with my friends, a scene reminisant of the last supper, a so called friend of mine, lets call him Judas, left the room for a game of squash. As I was in the company of friends, or disciples as they preffer to be known, I had managed to leave my knife resting on the bed just out of arms reach, but this did not initially worry me.
Then Judas returned with two people he introduced as being from trinity hall, and pointed at me and one of my desciples, and decided not to kiss us, but instead said "Liam, Harriet". At which point I began to realise something fishy was afoot. As I was split between reaching for my knife, running for cover or using a desciple as a human shield the cunning trinity hall gang (well 2 of em) pulled out guns. At this point I started to jump for cover but darn my luck they went to shoot me first. Unfortunately they succeeded on the first attempt and I was smitten down with great vengance and furious anger. But now that i have died I have saved each and everyones sole, and the lord will forgive your sins.
The lesson to learn from this episode is simple, have no friends, trust no one, and the gun is a much better long range weapon than a knife which you can not reach
In Summary I was shot.
I found an incompetant in Emma, who was known to a friend of mine. Having got him off his guard by using her as cover I shot what turned out the be a corpse.....
I am never forget ze day...wait, how am I going to remember zis day?
But let's start from, well, ze start: Me and some towaritschi go
to pubmeetov. Hardly anyone zere, so with target information stolen from
wanted list, I go to nearby college together with other comrade zat I get
to know in ze pub.
One man goes out once more,
A few more rhymes he proclaims.
And Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky is his name! Oy!
Nikolai Ivanovich Lobach...
We find person who brings us to door of ze target. Cowardly target refuses
to open ze door, while we start to question ze neighbours. Zey claim he
cannot get out of ze room. We wait, I hide in ze toilet.
Target be incompetent, my gun is big, what could happen? Some neighbours
wanderov, some neighbours come backski, one walks into ze toilet,
another... WAIT! That guy hasn't switched on ze light in ze toilet! I
turn ze head and zee into barrel of gun. BANG! Guy jumps round corner, but
ze competent towaritsch standing a few metres away mows him down with
kalashnikov. Zat at least give me satisfying last sight of corridor
redecorated in red.
One man hangs around too long,
One man's head they did claim,
And Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky was his name!
Oy!
And on two letters Granny he used as a name!
Oy!
And Dr Benton Quest was his name!
Oy!
And other letters he gave Balu as a name!
Oy!
And Inquisitor was his name!
Oy!
And on another letter he signed with Dr Julius No as his name!
Oy!
And on bombs he said:'From Eversor they came!'
Oy!
And for many letters Scotty B. he gave as his name!
Oy!
And The dead Robert Hiersemenzel's lackey Scott Boham was his name!
Oy!
In the battle Colonel Flasheart was his name!
Oy!
Dear Walf,
Another successful night of incompetent bashing took pwace at Jesus College.
In the twied, tested and time-honoured manner I knocked on James Osborn's
door. He opened it. I shot him. I wish I had something more intewesting to
tell.
*fwuffy bunnies*
(sic)awia
Main Page | Other news 13th | 14th | 15th | 16th | 18th | 19th | 20th | 21st | 22nd | 23rd | 24th | 25th | 26th | 27th | 28th | 29th | 30th | 31st | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | 10th | 11th | 12th | Last updated at 02:30 on 19/11/01.