Butler and Cash left bored to death after lectures. Ennui has struck.

Two hours of IA Engineering lectures can become somewhat boring, so Ennui struck at 11am this morning. Wanted criminals Butler and Cash were on their way to a practical when their boredom was ceased in the most fatal way possible; a lethal, non-"Detective Special" firearm, that sent them into the everlasting dream of Ennui. This is a warning to all those who would sleep during lectures: Ennui can strike at any time.


17:35... Corpus Hostium (Revenant) killed (Robert) Graham McNeilly.

There I was, pondering higher metaphysics, and what to eat that evening, when there came a knocking upon my door.
Peering through my spyhole, I espied a suspicious character, who - when challenged, claimed to be 'Iain'.
Suspicious, but not to the extent that I was prepared to just kill him immediatly, I decided upon a sensible course of action: Let him in, but cover him as he entered.
Enter he did, and on seeing my gun, drew and fired - I fired first, but he still got off a shot in time... Luckily, my weapon and aim were superior, and I caught him in the chest, while his shot merely ruffled my hair.
Communing with the corpse, I discovered that he had been responsible for an unsuccesful mailbomb, and had tried to bomb my door, but failed due to unfavourable dimensions - we swapped notes on weaponry, and then the cooling body dissolved into a pile of dust.


PC McGreedy 3 Puddings killed Agent Fox Mulder.

My duties as a humble servant of the crown continued today in the most unforseen of circumstances. Post formal hall, I wandered around to my friend's house, whereupon I saw a fellow policeman, letter in hand, attempting to pass the poisoned envelope onto a completely innocent assassin. Ok, she may have killed me in a past life, but she's not on the wanted list, so this act of terrorism cannot be appeased. So I did it: I shot him! I gave him the gun in front of his girlfriend, and with his visiting parents in the next room. Oh well, duty before compassion.......


23:45... Potato Bread survived a bomb from Willy Wood.

Having spent the entire day in my bedroom-come-workshop, I finally emerged with the fruit of my labours in my hand- a flour bomb!!! All I had to do was tempt my target to the college bar, excuse myself for a minute, set up the bomb, and return to finish my beer. I did just that.
I followed my target, at a distance, back to his room, where he was shocked to find a 1.5 litre bomb welded to his door. The beauty of my creation was that I had put drawing pins inside the neck of the balloon, sothat even the slightest movement of the balloon would set it off.
You can imagine my dismay then, when with all the dexterity and nimbleness of a master bomb-maker, Poato Bread removed the bomb from its position, and let the air out of the balloon.
DAMN!!! Back to the old drawing-board methinks.


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