The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News"While the wicked stand confounded call me with thy saints surrounded".
I now know two targets. i know you. So tomorrow morning, when you have to leave the safety of your room. i will shoot you. You are going to die. best of luck. Murphy.
i went to look for The Horrible Awful Microsoft Office Paperclip Assistant today, along with Ninurta. i managed to find them, but they had friends and locked doors. i am, by nature, a rule abiding man, so i resolved to let them make up their own minds about wether or not to come and face their death. they chose, unanimously, to not respond to my charms, and were therefore allowed to live for another day. next time though, they will die. i also accompanied Il Douche to look for X-Source, however he was not in his room and so we did not kill him. we went to the umpire, talked for a bit, i suggest it to all assassins as Mr Birch is a good man, however i do have to conceed that chris knowles seems a bit of a muppet. sorry chris, but, being dead, you know we pray for you anyway.
so until the day that i join my brother in the big blue, i will cleanse the earth from sin and repay those who hate me. all those who are on my list, beware, for you know you're gonna be sorry if you aint
Hmm, today my respect for the game as a whole suffered irrepairable damage.. Technically my death was perfectly legal, and quite deserved, but the lack of decorum with which the police conducted themselves and the fact that i was actually a competant and non-wanted assassin really rubbed salt into the bullet holes in my head. Randomly walking around New Hall with a good friend visiting from London (who was being my body guard for the day since UCL students have no comparable society and he wanted a taste of the game) we saw from a distance a huge, loud, unrefined mass of police right outside the door to my room, plastic guns and all. Needless to say i was not inclined to go near them in case some mistake of identity was made, as many players live around me. So my body guard and i took the long way to my room, hoping they would be gone by the time we got there.
Sadly i didint know the rule which states that anyone visibly armed is fair game to anyone else (i am not a hardcore player, that was a pretty bad lapse on my part, as i said my death was fully deserved)... but the police spotted my friends knife. Having approached us from the wrong side of a locked glass door they then proceeded to ply us with their expert detective skills.
'Uhh.. who are you?'
Please, a little effort guys, i wasnt a target, but the sheer lack of class rendered it a question worthy only of a pitying and disbelieving stare. And this from someone playing for fun, who doesn't know the rules.
They even discusses the possibility of assassinating us *through* a sheet of toughened glass - i mean what were they gonna do - blunder about until we killed ourselves from sympathy?
Well, i could ramble, but to cut it short we bumped into them later on and they killed my London friend, which, ok, was apparently deserved since he *was* armed. He was, however, an innocent.. and not even from Cambridge.
I was vaguley pissed off by this point and shot my only rubber band at the chief of police in retaliation, striking him on the arm. He proceeded to shoot me down, and given my increasing cynicism at the whole event, i was quite glad he did. Technially, though, i was unarmed when he shot me, though i don't expect to get away with that as an excuse, and don't particularly want to now...
The Umpire notes that non-players, while allowed to act as accomplices, should never act as armed decoys. Any kill made aided by an armed non-player will be annulled, and players will be made wanted if they endanger "innocents" by arming them.
i got killed by a police squad, can i now join them in their pursuit of criminals/incompetents and become a policeman please
Returning to my abode, i passed a rather unsubtle group of assassins coming out of Burrells walk, AfterEight and KoW among them. "Aha" thought I, perhaps they are inco bashing! I returned home, and checked - yes, one of our lovely Selwyn players was inco, and in danger. I quickly summoned a rapid response team, and armed with CPSs we set out for James's to await the naughty inco bashers.
Sadly they had got there first, and were milling rather unsubtly around the staircase. Somehow my CPS team stayed unseen as far as the staircase, but then all hell broke loose. The majority of the attackers escaped out the back door, and I had my team let AfterEight go as i felt bad killing a player when we were just having a bit of fun.
We chased the police all round Cripps Court, culminating in an ambush where AfterEight (rather unsportingly, having agreed a no-kill only minutes earlier) shot our inco. Then people dispersed. Let this be a warning though - attack Selwyn at your own risk! And if AfterEight comes back, he's getting very wet indeed...
For ambushing the police, the Selwyn Police officers have been made corrupt.
A group of assassins came earlier to try and kill my very good inco friend. THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN (well actually, it did). 6 suspicious characters, of which our lord and protector knew well, came to Cripps. We immediately summonded our army. GUNS GUNS GUNS GUNS GUNS! We isolated the victims but they immediately fled in various direction. At one point "Stephen Chester" was isolated but he looked so sad and afraid we let him go. Then we got caught in a stand off on grange road. 3 of them, 2 of us. Our inco James, after a few hours of standing and doing nothing, decided to make an attempt. but once again, the opposition were being girly and claimed water might hurt their skin, and they don't like the damp etc etc etc. So he changed for an inferior gun. He chased them down grange road but, the ones we let get away had formed a trap. He died. However, THIS WILL BE AVENGED (though not from me as I am police).
On my first day as police I was informed of a gang of assassins headed this way, having a feeling they may be after my old friend James who has been somewhat incapacitated lately. We assembled the usual crack team, but due to some muppetteering of the highest order they all disappeared, James followed two of them and got shot. I took a shot at one but alas, at the time he wasnt holding a weapon. Ah well, corruption is fun anyway!
On Leaving the Cambridge Arms my group of police and I went to knock on every incompetent's door in central cambridges, all went smoothly (noone was home except one guy who sounded hung over and angrily told us he could see the guns through his peep hole) until we came to Selwyn. On our entering the college someone shouted Assassins, soon a lot of people with very big water guns were swarming the courtyard and cased my fellow officers and our hired gun out of the place, I stood there looking slightly bemused and hoped they'd leave me alone, they did. When I met up with a few other members of my team outside we decided to perhaps not go back into Selwyn and started skulking off only to be accosted by the same group of Selwynians, they on one side of the street we on the other, my fellow officer pleaded to be given a clean death, a soldier's death via RBG I realising it was better to live and serve the umpire another day, whilst they were deciding who should and how to kill us, ran away leaving my fellow officers in harm's way, a few of them chased me for a bit but gave up. I do wonder what happened to my comrades though...
At approximately 13.32 this afternoon, myself and several other constables proceeded from the day's briefing to go and have a little word with a few persons of interest to the police force. Most were sadly engaged on other nefarious activities no doubt. However one delightful person did answer our knocks, however was either extremely hung over or just very suspicious and so would not allow the police to gain enter to his abode. Continuing on the patrol to the last known abode of the incompetent James McLeod, we encoutner a full scale pitched battle. Dispite informing them that we were police, and being told that some of them were as well we were forced to beat a hasty retreat when they opened fire, and so were not able to discover their names. However one of those did give chase and was ambushed, taken down with two bang shots as he followed me around the corner, dispite or perhaps because of his large water weapon. Sadly we could not afford a proper exchange of gunfire and were forced to abandon the rest of the patrol.
After leaving the pubmeet, I headed off with AfterEight, KoW, Jack Eaton and Chris Korek to look for incos. Our search started in Caius, where we looked for Laurenne Claire Chapman, who was out. Whilst in Caius, we popped in to see if Chris Field would like to join us. Sadly he was out, so we left a note to keep his webcam company. Poor thing looked lonely... Our next point of call was Trinity, where we first knocked on the door of Tom McEwan, but got no reply. We then headed after Llewellyn Pilbeam, pausing only to pick up Revelation. Llewellyn was not interested in going to the pub, however, so we left. Across the river then to PGR, and a visit to Nathan Bowler. Once again, no reply. So we left there too. The fun really started once we reached Selwyn. After gaining entry to Cripps through a suspiciously unlocked door, we looked for N staircase in search of James McLeod. By the time we'd worked our way round to it, we'd noticed enough people noticing us to decide it wasn't worth continuing the attempt. As we were about to leave quietly, we couldn't help noting the sudden appearance of a large group of people carrying large water weapons, blocking our route to the main exit. Deciding the outcome of RBG v CPS was us getting soaked, we took the back door, splitting up once outside. I headed to Cranmer Road, and waited to see what would happen. When SelMaffia emerged, still carrying a silly amount of firepower, I had a friendly chat, before watching them head on up Grange road. Following at a distance, I saw a standoff, with the Police on one side of the road, SelMaffia on the other. I was joined by AfterEight, and we were about to make our merry way the hell away from there, when the police scattered. We saw one run towards us, chased by someone holding a CPS, who turned out to be James. We waited for him to turn the corner, at which point AfterEight bang-killed him. James then turned round and fired at AfterEight, but since he was already dead, AfterEight lives to die another day...
This afternoon I met up with the police force and other concerned citizens in the Cam Arms, before joining one of the groups and heading off to bash some incos.
We first went to Caius, but the inco wasn't in. We left a message for Chris Field instead.
We then tried Trinity Angel Court and Wolfson building, with no luck, and likewise at Burrell's Field.
After this we lurked for the wanted in Robinson and on to Selwyn.
In Selwyn Cripps Court we found the front door usefully open, and headed over to our target's room. Unfortunately our arrival was heralded by some random non player, and I ended up in a conversation with a couple of people - one girl trying to tell me what the inco looked like and the bloke trying to stop her. Shortly afterwards, however, we were rudely interrupted by the arrival of a group of people with CPSs.
On their arrival I bolted for the front door and they followed me, shouting that if I came back I'd be shot. Ross was very decent and asked them not to shoot me, and so I lurked outside, waiting to see what had happened to the rest of my team.
Eventually we ended up in a situation with us facing off against them across the road, and Chester a few hundred metres away, watching us. Noticing the inco getting more trigger happy I walked off, deciding to leave the police to it. I met up with Chester and we waited to see what would happen until I saw two of our team and the inco racing towards us, the inco brandishing a CPS. Assuming that he had no intention of keeping the no kill, I bang killed him.
I then left and met up with the other team.
----- Report (14:10) ----- We left the incopubmeet and went off in search of central college incos. First call was for Laurenne Chapman in Caius, at 14:20. She wasn't there, so we decided to pay Chris Field a visit to see if he was still in bed letting RADAR do all the work. Apparently he was, so we bang-killed his webcam[1]. -------------------------- ----- Report (14:30) ----- Then on to the Trinity incos. First, and closest, Tom McEwan in the Wolfson Building (not the be confused with Wolfson College or Wolfson Court, of course). No sign of him. Then across the road into Angel court. Llewellyn Pilbeam was in, but didn't want to open the door to us. Damned antisocial, if you ask me. Out, across the bridge and the backs and around into Burrell's Field at 15:00 for Nathan Bowler. He wasn't in, either. Sorry about PGR, we were going to go back, really... -------------------------- ----- Report (15:10) ----- We next decided to try the wanted criminal in Robinson. Two people on the balcony were talking about assassins stuff but we never managed to get a shot at them so gave up and went to Selwyn. -------------------------- ----- Report (15:25) ----- We guessed that N14 was in Cripps Court and finessed the front door. Passing I staircase we heard a shout of "assassins", which is so rarely a good sign, but we carried on anyway. Three of us went into the staircase, leaving the rest to cover our retreat. N14 didn't have a name by it and deciding that things were a little too hot we decided to leave after a minute or two... to see four guys with serious weapons running across the grass towards the entrance! Eeek! Figuring that the other half of our team's survival was going to be determined purely by how fast they could run, and that we were in deep - uh - trouble when the mafiosi turned around, we took the back exit near M staircase and ran into the carpark. Splitting up and circling back around, Ben Jones caught and shot me. I felt two shots hit my upper arm but, as we're both police and I wasn't bearing arms, we agreed that I couldn't possibly be dead and went on our merry way. A short while later, a standoff ensued on Grange Road. The brave and noble (and definitely not corrupt) inco-hunters on one side and the evil (and extremely heavily armed) Selwyn mafia on the other. After it was explained that "they're obviously assassins, especially [me]" doesn't make us legal targets, and a bit of stupidity, the Good Guys (i.e. us) departed to fight another day. Yet another raid where the SWAT team doesn't get slaughtered! Woo! --------------------------
epeskoja te to onoma kai to pregzta.
It seemed that there were some rather lazy people in my college, and we all know that laziness is a Very Bad Thing. Thus Lemming Hunter and I paid name a visit. This seemed to do the trick for him, as suddenly he was full of life! This was somewhat ironic, as he was then shortly in something of an inverse state...
"Knock knock."
Who's there?
"No-one, apparently."
That's not a very good joke.
"DIE, DOOR, DIE!!!!"
Erm, it's an inanimate object. But I'm sure if it could feel pain, it would be hurting right now.
"That's nice, Voice."
Dear Mr. Umpire, At 19:45 precisely on the 7th February 2005, I went to visit the highly incompetent 'electric within' at her abode with mr. ninja. We found that she was either not present, or she had spotted the highly imperfect mr. ninja lurking outside her room with sword drawn. We left, as through no fault of my own our attempt at incompetent bashing had failed. I should have killed him for this failure, but felt that such an action would be imperfect of me. I returned to my habitual abode, and did proceed to watch Mr. N. Cage kill some incompetent convicts, whilst mr. ninja attempted some more incompetent bashing. Later, at 00:30, I had just left my room when I heard the footfalls of someone running up the stairs behind me. I turned, and saw a suspicious looking young man looking back. Hiding my knife, which I had taken the precaution of holding as I left my room, I proceeded to engage in the following conversation: TIO: "Are you looking for someone?" Stranger: "No, no one." (looks around suspiciously) (The 'Stranger' will henceforth be known as the 'Fool') TIO: "Are you sure you're not looking for someone?" Fool: "No, I am not looking for anyone." TIO: "Are you an assassin?" Fool: "No, I am not a member of 'The Assassin's Guild'" (very suspicious, turns to return down the stairs) TIO: "Well, just to be sure..." (stabs 'Fool' in back with perfect knife) Fool: "I am NOT in the assassin's guild!" I then returned to my room pleased with my perfect kill. A few moments later I heard him talking downstairs, and I decided that I had better check that he was indeed a (lying) assassin. I went down the stairs, and found him conversing with my fellow lawmen Constable mr. ninja and Community Service Agent Raphael, and an assassin, who will remain unnamed for legal reasons. They informed me that the 'Fool' was in fact not a member of the assassin's guild, and that he was merely an innocent. (The 'Fool' will henceforth be known as the 'Innocent') The 'Innocent' proceeded to tell me that he had been checking that a present (not in the assassin's sense of the word), which he had left outside the door of a friend, had been received (which he maintained that it had). This highly dubious explanation was confirmed by my associates, and I returned to my room, with the echoes of their (unwarranted) laughter ringing in my ears. I maintain that this incident was the result of a failure on the part of the 'Innocent', and not a failure of my own making (anyone thinking that I should have coshed him is forgetting my perfection). Yours Flawlessly, The Indefectible One P.S. Any spelling or grammatical errors in this correspondence are the result of a lack of sanity and/or eyesight on your part, and not a result of my imperfection.
For shooting an innocent, TIO has been made wanted. Redemption in two legal kills or one wanted kill, as usual.
While browsing the latest issue of Evil Weekly magazine, I was shocked to read that Alex Hassan, my long estranged twin, had committed certain downright wicked deeds and had ended up a wanted man. Deciding to do my bit for society, I resolved to bring him to justice. Then I remembered that I'm evil and hate society, but I decided it would be a laugh anyway. Loading my revolver I set off for his hideout and, just minutes after arriving, shot him several times in the head as he left his room. His body tumbled down the bloodied stairs, and I laughed long and hard at the irony of a murderer executed by his evil twin.
This afternoon I decided that it would be best to stay in my room and spend the afternoon working and laughing at the various police raids coming and going. They came, they went and I wasn't moving. Woe is me, woe is all as I was summoned downstairs for my usual game of ping pong. Two direct shots in my head confirmed that I might have a fair headache for the next week. A quick congratulations on the guys originality and balls (he hadn't been scared off by the now bigger scattering of rubber bands) and I was wondering why so how many people had to die for such a futile cause. Hopefully no more lives will have to be lost defending f staircase but I sense otherwise.
Went to Robinson, shot up Hassan's body only to find that he had already been relieved of his misery about 20 minutes before by the man with the double barralled rbg and the plastic bag. (I'm surprised he had jacket pockets big enough for that bugger but in it went.) Annoyingly I also took out his no goodnik friend who was no doubt an evildoer himself. Bugger.
Afterwards in assassins' heaven (1840) (it resembles Robinson college games room) I received a visit from a guy a little too late. Somehow he recognised me from my red hoody (what is the world coming too!) and decided not only to not believe that I was dead but also that my ping pong partner actually had nothing to do with assassins. Net result me even more dead than before and a dead innocent. I don't think he was overly happy about the situation either. No rest for the wicked indeed.
Went to Robinson to play this afternoon, had fun, then left.
For shooting an innocent, Benjamin Jones has been placed on the wanted list. Redemption in two legal targets or one wanted criminal. Players should note that there are at least two players called "Ben Jones" if confused.
I had reason to suspect that the evil archcriminal, The Gentleman Assassin, would be at LaserQuest this evening. He was safely out of bounds by the time I arrived, so my only option was to lurk... and lurk I did.
Long story short he left early and I missed my chance.
found a letter in my pigeon hole today. 'Marvellous, a letter!' says I, but then upon picking up the correspondance with gloven hands it rattles. Shame really as I hardly ever get post, and whoever felt it necessary to send me washing powder didn't even let me know who they were, which i found quite rude really. Still I guess I'll be seeing them soon...
This evening i used my oh-so-subtle irish charm to murder, in cold blood, Laura Kemp. i drove my red, ink filled knife through her collarbone and into her lung. as she died she said "What"?
I then placed pennies in her eyes so she could pay the toll to Charon, the boatman who ferries souls across the river styx. She has come to pay, in full for crossing over into true corruption, into our domain.
"And shepherds we shall be, for thee my lord for thee,
power hath descended forth from thy hand
that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command.
And we shall flow a river forth to thee,
and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
il nomini patri et fili... et spiritu sancte."
Murphy, of the saints
Last night, at the behest of an old friend from school, the Pig of Genius and friend merrily made their way to the delightful Corpus Christi college, sampling the pleasures of the both are delectable Formal Hall. Post prandially, the now somewhat merrier bunch perambulated towards the illustrious Trinity College Bar where they again partook of Gin and Tonics.
At approximately 10pm, a tall figure, dressed in a rugby shirt, entered the Bar. Instantly, I recognised him as my old acquaintance Llwelyn Pilbeam: a man I now knew to be incompetent. Seizing my opportunity, I took my trusty gun from it's hiding place within my overcoat and gracefully lept from my seat. Dodging pool cues and students holding beverages I discharged three rounds into Pilbeam's chest.
The genetle giant groaned, and toppled. There followed a brief exchange in which it was explained to onlookers why I had just shot someone I quite liked... I had to put us out of his misery...
Hmm, I really should get round to developing a healthy paranoia at some point. This is how it was: As I was relaxing one fine sunday evening, I heard a knock upon my door. Seeing without a person I knew, but did not fully trust, I took up my derringer, and eased the door open a fraction. After we exchanged greetings, two vicious figures leaped out upon me, weapons thrust at my heart. The gun-wielding manic copper, took aim at my black heart, but my rapid backpedalling kept me out of his sights. However, I did not count on the speed of the other, who charged towards me with death in his eyes and a knife in his hand. The man, the evil X-source caught me once in the gut, puncturing some of my more important internal organs, and I died painfully over the next hour, my life's blood pooling beneath me. Alas, my plan's are laid waste, and tonight I sleep with a heavy heart.
Tonight, a sudden urge possessed me to meet up with the infamous corrupt cop Chesney Hawks and show him around the fortress (obviously including a quick trip down to the on-site brewery). After all, his mafia and I have had a no-kill pact for some time. It suddenly came to our attention that my life as an incognito assassin was coming close to an end, as the days of incompetencess were drawing closer by the hour. Things were not looking good with targets that had committed suicide rather than face my wrath such as the shameful Stuart Gooch. Like a vulture desparate to get its claws on something before fading away, I was forced into scavenging through the incompetent and wanted lists. However, my luck changed when we discovered a certain Robert Shaw happened to live in the fortress too, we gave no second thoughts and marched directly to his headquarters. The kill was obviously my task, and would hopefully save me from the inferno of incompetence although the infamous Chesney served as a back up with real fire power at hand, should my trust knife miss.
Chesney, having connections everywhere, was able to employ a decoy at the door. The door slowly creaked opene, and in a flash, the poor Robert Shaw found himself bleeding to death, a knife stuck in his heart. X-Source had done it again. Chesney's bullets also flew about the room, but they made no difference to the lifeless corpse, now lying in a pool of blood.
Afterwards, Chesney and X-Source decided to return to the brewery for a quick pint, and to leave the fortress safe in the knowledge that a corrupt policeman and an invisible assassin make a dangerous duo.
Maybe it's my imagination, but food seemed to taste better when I was a kid. Also, food would sing and dance and play musical instruments, but that could also have been my imagination.
I don't know if this is has anything to do with the assassins guild, but someone just sent me a piece of bacon in the mail :S This isn't so much a report as opposed to a question - do you know anything about this or is it an unrelated very bizarre thing? Please could you help me out here. Oh btw since I open my mail with my gloves I won't be dead if it was an attempt.
Yours confused and kinda scared
Paper Cuts
Wow, I got to join the Simeon Spotters Society last night. Walking back from a society meeting, I happened upon him on the corner of Senate House Passage and Trinity Street.
I think he was wearing a hat.
I was waiting outside a lecture theatre for a certain Ziggy Stardust, who I had been informed was (description removed). I saw such an individual exit the lecture theatre and ran up and stabbed him in the back and stomach, chuckling merrily. He wasn't Ziggy Stardust, however. Then I saw someone else who matched the description, and went and stabbed him. He wasn't Ziggy Stardust. Bugger. I then saw another person who matched the description, but decided that I'd killed enough innocents for one day, and let him go. Knowing my luck, he almost certainly was Ziggy Stardust. How many (Description removed) can you fit in a lecture theatre. Answer: lots!
For his error, David Hall has been placed on the wanted list. Redemption to be achieved with two legal target kills, or one wanted kill.
09:55 Read email: Realised I was incompetent.
10:00 Arrived at the room of Tom McEwan. Not in.
10:10 Left the room of Tom McEwan.
10:13 Arrived at the room of Llewellyn Pilbeam. Not in.
10:18 Left the room of Llewellyn Pilbeam. Resolved to return at c. 12:00 if
still incompetent
***Sadly, I must draw a veil over my activities for the next 40 minutes, as
I don't wish to reveal how far away from my targets I live, nor in which
direction they reside***
11:07 Arrived at the room of Laurenne Claire Chapman. Not in.
11:12 Still not in. Decided to stay, on the grounds that there were some
bags outside her room which implied she would be returning soon.
11:14 A male climbed the stairs and lurked suspiciously.
11:16 Emerged, assuming said male was also lurking Laurenne and resloved to
lure him into revealing a weapon so I could shoot him (desperate times...)
11:16 Surprised by the excessive age of said male.
11:17 Discovered that said male was Laurenne Claire Chapman's father, and
that she would be back soon.
11:20 Shot Laurenne Claire Chapman.
11:22 Started thinking.
It's fascinating to think that all around us there's an invisible world we can't even see. I'm speaking, of course, of the World of the Invisible Scary Skeletons.
adam biltcliffe reports:
Dear George,
I hear you died to a poisoned letter. You so lame. If you weren't already dead, I'd shoot you myself.
Love,
Adam
Today I went many places, and did many things. I stocked up on supplies, bought some food, and found the room of Paper Cuts. Unfortunately, there were people (plural) inside and I decided that not even a bumper pack of 250 rubber bands would ensure success against such staggering odds as 2:1. So I left him a note, and ran away.
Passing me, you warked JJ present in the afternoon, over in order to gather the erectlon roud thing from the chest hole. So, I before he makes the road closs, turned him of central area, shot. "It becomes ruinous!" He me removed my band, while wandering about, shouted.
For threatening to use a BB gun on his assassins, James Cole has been ejected from this and future assassins games. Such behaviour is dangerious and illegal, and will be in no way tolerated by the guild.
Just to let you know I've been keeping up with events from Memphis Tennessee and that an attempt was made on the, annoyingly now deceased gentleman assassin, last Monday (the 7th) so pwease don't make me inco... I'll love you long time... *flourishes $5*...
Lovely Umpire,
I'm afraid I report to you today with worrying news. I believe that there is a Santa Claus mafia in Cambridge. I wouldn't believe it either, but over the weekend I swear I walked past at least three different jolly fat men with beards. I know it sounds crazy, but if you saw them you'd believe me. I've done a little research and all I could find to support my theory is this picture
I suspect the three men on the left to be the ones behind it all. I'm not sure what their dastardly scheme is yet, but I will keep you informed of any breakthroughs.
For now, I would lock your door. I wouldn't want them to get you!
Yours,
Chris Field
I was waiting like a lemon outside John's bar for a late friend, when a familiar figure hove into view. Even without his hat, I quickly realised it was my good friend Simeon Bird, here to watch the Incredibles. After bidding me a good evening, and commiserating over my shameful death at the hands of evil Caians, he muttered something about needing to get to the film, and disappeared into the night as quietly as he had come.
Tonight we had a wonderful evening touring the colleges of Cambridge with regards to some 'inco bashing', as I believe the phrase goes. We visited New Hall first, got lost in the laberinthine coridoor hell, but finally found the rooms of both Julia Kingsbury and Sally Hubbard to be apparently vacant. We then moved on to visit both Gonville and Cauis, Trinity and Magdelene, all of which we found to be incomrehensibly complex in their staircase systems. By this time we both needed to piss quite badly, so dropped in on a friend in a nearby college to use their facilities. Happily refreshed, and feeling like we'd be the laughing stock back home unless we killed someone, we decided to re-infiltrate New Hall at about ten pm.
To our delight, Miss Julia Kingsbury invited us in upon knocking. Somewhat shocked, we knocked again, and the invitation was repeated. Taking a hurried moment to draw all our weapons, we swung open the door and David aimed dual pistols at the screaming young lady. Deebo was behind covering his back. All hell broke loose with blazing band guns, but in the end David Hall got the kill.
We took a moment to chat with our victim and found her to be a delightful person. Such a pity she had to die so brutally.
Heard a knock at my door at around 10pm this evening, in a false sense of security brought about by no attempts made on me for the whole of the game I foolishly called out to "come in". A slight hesitance, and i became suspicious, but too late - two bandits bearing elastic-band guns threw open the door, shooting me down. AAAhhhh! Dammit.
At 2020 this evening, wanted police officer Philip Bielby was executed by Generalissimo FN Spingu and Raphael, in his own room at the top of Harvey Court. The criminal claims to have hit Raphael after he missed, which I can neither confirm or deny, but a single shot to the stomach from myself finished Phil off. I apologise in advance to our bedder who will have to clean him up, but we can't have a police officer going around killing random innocents (he fired on and just missed another criminals room mate today despite a command to hold his fire) and attracting attention, can we now?
Today I went to mutilate Alex Hassan with Constable Spingu (we did not know that he was dead). However, he was not in, so I took out my rage on his innocent next-door neighbour with my RBG. I did not kill him, as some mysterious force stopped the bullet before it reached him (not my fault). We then snuck out of Robinson, and headed to hall, stopping off to mutilate electric within (we did not know that she was dead either). She was also not in, so we continued on to hall.
Upon my return, I checked this website, and found that through some error I had been made wanted (and that Alex Hassan and electric within were dead). Immediately, I heard a knock upon my door. I opened it a crack with my RBG in my hand, and found that Constable Spingu was standing there. I asked him if he was going to kill me now that I was officially wanted. He said that he would not, so I opened the door, keeping my RBG trained on his head. I then saw Community Service Agent Raphael jump out from his hiding place from around the corner. He fired at me with his RBG (missing), and I returned fire. I was then shot in the stomach by the untrustworthy Constable Spingu (with whom I had a no-kill agreement).
I am unsure of whether I shot Raphael, but due to my flawlessness, I must have done (he denies it).
Yours Immaculately,
The Indefectible One
The Umpire notes that No-kill agreements are not binding within the game rules, in case anyone is confused.
i teleported home one night, with ron and sid and meg. ron stole meggie's heart away. and i got sidney's leg.
Have just woken up. its beats a traffic cone but what the fuck is the golden gate bridge doing in my bed? almost as surprising was the elephant i found in my butter. then things got really weird as my underwear started singing play that funky music white boy. then i woke up. anyone for an asprin?
oh lord, forgive me my sins and stop with the drumming. now. where's my trousers?
Stephen Chester appears to be strangely allergic to rubber. A band to the back, and he dropped down dead. Most unfortunate.
It would appear innortality isn't all it's cracked up to be.
After lurking around bridge street for a while what luck do I have but to see the author of the ping pong massacre around talking t's walking out with both hands holding a file. Instead of just killing him I force him into a siege situation at the baron of beef. As one on one sieges aren't my thing I called for the non existent reinforcement. All I wanted to do was see what he was drinking. Ben, getting the wrong end of the stick noticed a chink in my defence and brandishing an rbg shot me in the back. It's questionable whether I had my gun out at this point but I'll say for the sake of argument that I did.
There's a lesson to be learned... don't use a water gun from a Christmas cracker, invest in an rbg if you haven't and if you see someone make proper mental notes!
I wear glasses myself. As an affectation, as a badge of high intellect and to see with.
Myself and my associate went inco-hunting. We called at Burrell's Field, where Nelly the almost-elephant was shockingly irreligious, and didn't go to evensong at the expected time. We then played Hide & Seek with the Puzzles and Games Ring for a bit. Lastly, we called at a target's room, but the target was out. A slightly unproductive trip.
After weeks of waiting, they came for me. I was first caught by a throwing knife in my back at hall - having misinterpreted the rules of the game and believed hall to be out of bounds, I said as much to my (understandably) confused and disappointed killer and made a hasty evacuation to the relative darkness and safety of the Great Court. After quickly fashioning a knife, and making it as far as my own court (it's amazing how long someone can keep walking if they don't realise they're dead), I knew deep down my time was up. Diving under a hail of rather wet bullets I lunged for the killer, but to no avail. So, twice dead and at least twice as incompetent for misreading the rules, I take my leave in shame. Many apologies to my killer for ruining the moment of glory by not realizing I was dead through sheer idiocy.
It's been a very good day.
Thank you for your invite to coffee. I gladly accept.
Just killed a certain Johanous Nordstrop (or something like that) snooping around my corridor. I rounded the corner and unleashed flaming deal rubber into his back. Thats the good stuff....
Speak to you soon your umpireness,
William Wordsworth Pushing Up The Daffodils
I've just died while attempting to kill a corrupt policeman (Ben Jones to be precise), which has to be the most pointless way of dying there is. Time of death about 7pm. I waited in his room for a bit, shot one of his neighbours who entered, left and got shot in the back by Ben. Who can corrupt police kill generally? As I remember it they are usually restricted practically to shooting only targets who are bearing weapons, which would make the fact that I was still carrying my pistol on my way out rather daft.
The Umpire notes that corrupt police, are, in general, subject to the same rules as police, only they can be killed by police when not bearing. As Johannes was making an attempt on Ben and was right outside his room, he would have been a legal target anyway. (An assassin attempting to kill you is always a legal target.)
Also, Johannes had just killed an innocent, and would have been wanted as well, and therefore a legal target for everyone...
With a deadline looming, I wandered up to Jesus Lane to pay a visit to The Supreme Inquisitor, His Reverence Lord Zacharias Spon, Paladin of the Gold Temple of the Knights Templar, Grand Inspector and Master of Ritual, Chronicler of the Ancient Texts, Prime Scrivener, Head of the Order of Crimson Scribes and Keeper of the Books of Law, Ceremony and Propriety.. One of his neighbours let me in and I knocked on his door. Alas, his music was on too loud and he didn't hear me. I lurked for a bit and got bored and went home. I then spent the rest of the evening eating crisps.
survived! but failed.
I received an e-mail from the Umpire listing my targets for assassination is difficult when your targets are difficult to find out what they look like and where they will be and when and killing them should be reasonably easy colleges to get into have an unlocked gates and do not have locks on individual staircases that are difficult to get into sometimes lull their inhabitants into a false sense of security of the staircases in this college meant it took some time for me to find my target's room to lurk was found easily enough of my time was spent waiting that I didn't think my target would be passing any time soon I got tired and walked to his door to knock on it did not seem to me that he was in or at least responding so I left.
I was standing on Webbs ready to go into the library when I noticed two people in black coats head across the court and approach a girl I knew there. They asked her directions and she pointed towards my staircase. I quickly caught up with her and asked if they were asking for my staircase; she said yes. So I ran up to the doorway to my staircase and waited outside for them to come out, which they did a couple of minutes later. They were ever so decent about me shooting them both with rubber bands; they weren't in fact after me but had been calling on someone else on my staircase who wasn't in. Oh well, some you win...
The Umpire adds "two legal targets or one wanted player" to his copy buffer.
Deebo reporting, Milk-free and I infiltrated Newhall once again and tried to gain access to the room of Sally Hubbard, an inco, but she didn't let us in, and her door was locked so we decided to 'tactically withdraw from the combat arena'.
Dear Mr The David,
I saw Chris Field today, during a blind date.
The blind date was sort of like the thing.
Here is a picture of something that might have happened.
Some people might be camels.
Gnomic
Today I successfully assassinated Julia Kingsbury with a knife as she left a geology practical - however I discovered that she had in fact already been killed last night.
Finding out that the rather dashing but extreemly wanted criminal dunkyb was having a lecture in the engineering department I staged an ambush outside. Looking through a window I saw the assailant chatting to a friend at the back. Realising that he was about to make his escape through a back door I rushed around hiding in an entrance to a nearby theatre. Then, when he popped out searching for danger, he only had a split seccond to sight the fearsom terror that was upon him.
All that was left was a combat jacket and a jammed wildfire...
Okay redemption didn't go very well. Chris Jenkins' staircase is locked so one cannot reach the door to his room. Then when I went to look for Edward Gunn (since I was in Benson Court anyway) I got to he bottom of his staircase to find a little common room down there. A very friendly guy was in the common room and came over to let me in. Too friendly, I couldn't help thinking. I swiftly considered the following inequality:
P(I get redeemed) <<< P(guy is inco who I'm after)
so I shot him. He wasn't Edward Gunn, of course, though he clearly was used to the ways of assasins cos his response rather bemused was: 'Haven't you just shot an innocent then?' I assume this further preying on the innocents of Cambridge has made me irredeemably wanted. If not, my shenanigans with toothpaste afterwards certainly will have done :P
Emerging from the shadows once more The Phoenix snuck into the territory of his target, in search of the elusive March Hare, earlier this afternoon. Alas, the lethal repuation of The Phoenix has clearly preceded him, and his mark wisely remained hidden from his sight. No matter, The Phoenix has scouted out the stalking ground of his enemy, and it will not be long before he returns; and on that day, blood shall be spilt....
"You see a door open"
w
"what do you want to wield?"
k
"You are now wielding a knife."
l
"You hit Julia Kingsbury!"
l
"You kill Julia Kingsbury!"
#chat
"In which direction?"
l
"The corpse of Julia Kingsbury says it was already dead"
#chat
"In which direction?"
l
"The corpse of Julia Kingsbury complains about how much your knife hurt"
the nasty guy toothpasted me. i think that means im now dead. oops.
If you hadn't guessed, yes, Phillip Bridge is irredeemable.
March Hare
He tried.
Double doors are hard.
Lurking doesn't work.
People are suspicious.
Aidan N Robison is safe.
For Now.
he tried.
Rowan Fields doesn't live in her room.
He thinks he never even sleeps there.
Maybe he is a heavy sleeper.
He is safe.
For now.
So far: Door opened 39 times armed to the teeth (and long teeth they are)
Five innocent strangers suspected for hours.
Seven incredibly dangerous letters from my DOS, tutor and family
disarmed with great caution.
13 showers with weapons...(in a non-dodgy way)
No, repeat, no (recorded) attempts on his life...
He am getting a bit bored, and more paranoid.
Somebody is watching Him.I went unto the lari of the foul beast but inspite of my wizzardly ways was foiled by his counter curses. Finaly after i could not enter into his fabled relm I fled disapearing into the night.
Dear Mr Umpire, tonight at approximately 00.15 hours I apprehended and removed the corrupt policeman, Carl Whitehead, at a local establishment popularly known as Cindies.
I was in cindies, unarmed, when I bumped into a policeman, called Chris something or other. I managed to convince him not to kill me and that I am very nice. I then met another policeman, Mike Morely, where I had to do the same again. Then one killed me by stabbing me in the back whilst I was dancing rather well on the dance floor. I don't think he appreciated my moves.
I called in an airstrike, and a napalm strike, but to no avail. The super-sheep missed it's mark and so it came down to the tried and tested cardboard knife.
"Oh dear!"
* pop *
Worm of the match: an earthworm
Most kills: an earthworm
Least dangerous worm: Vincent Tang
Deebo reporting⦠left a little Vaseline coated pressie for Kirsty Reger.
Arriving back to my room last night I noticed a flyer that had been pushed underneath my door. Interestingly the societies tend to flyer pigeon holes... noticing the way it glistened I used gloves to dispose of it.
Dear Umpire, at 12:05am I was interupted from my computer by a rapping at the door:
Rap Rap Rapping
"Hello?" I say
"Who is it?"
A young voice replies "Its Martin"
"What do you want" I continue knowing full well the only two Martins I know wouldnt come to my room as they would be killed (and only one is an assassin...)
A pause ensures...
"Are you here to kill me?"
A longer pause, and the sound of thinking
"I was actually, but now I'm off, see you later." answered the voice. With that I heard the sounds of little feet running for their life down the stairs.
Popping my head out of the window, I got a very nice view of my assaliant... He wont be alive for long.
Yours Thomas de Rivaz
The Umpire notes that he is not omnipotent, and will not give you competence unless he knows who you are.
Here's hopping his letter works better than his knocking on doors. Tom de rivas... After knocking, he realised he had in fact not packed his gun. It must be very hard to garotte people from in front. Poorly planned, he knows. See you soon.
in order:
Not only incompetent, but also out! bah. How lame can you be.
I'm KEEEEELING in the rain, I'm; killing in the rain! What a BEEEAAAAUUUUTIFUL feeling, I'm; competent again!
What? WHAT!?! It's a bloomin' maze out there! Obviously to keep them guys out.
Whenever I hear the sparrow chirping, watch the woodpecker chirp, catch a chirping trout, or listen to the sad howl of the chirp rat, I think: "Oh boy, I'm going insane again!"
Whoever it is has been sending me those dodgy letters is continuing. Today I got an onion bhaji in the post (!). I gave it to Vince to open since frankly I'm not that bothered whether he lives or dies. I assume I'll eventually get to know the reason for this?
It was a fried egg, although, remind me not to eat any of Bobby's or Mazrael's cooking - The Umpire
And as they were returning they came to Kings, which is in the midway to Sainsburies, the twelth day. And the angel said: Brother Bobby , thou knowest how thou didst leave thy father. If it please thee therefore, let us go before, and let the family follow softly after us, together with thy wife, and with the beasts. And as this their going pleased him, Mazrael said to Bobby: Take with thee of the fried egg of the chicken, for it will be necessary. So Bobby took some of that egg and departed.
10th February
16.50:
Poison letter (vaseline) to Sally Hubbard.
another neutralised poisoned letter today. good old gloves. learned lots about stat signs from it...
I bring you dire news. It appears as though the organisation whom I suspect to be operating in Cambridge, henceforth known as the 'Santa Cabal' have made a breakthrough in their nefarious schemes. I managed to acquire this photo evidencing their move into a very dangerous area. They're armed and dangerous now, seemingly bribing the authorities to keep things quiet. I have also found evidence of a top secret training facility. I don't think they plan to make any major move soon, but you should be wary all the same. They have the means and the knowledge to seriously deliver some presents, if you know what I mean. Please take care of yourself!
Successful policing of the streets continues, tonight seeing the end of one David Stephen Hall. He the one who foolishly gunned my past self, yet his accuracy clearly is questionable, since here I am, and here he is not. I had passed him earlier in town, but myself upon foot, and he upon bicycle, meant that I was unable to get close enough for the kill in time. Tonight however, whilst inebriated no doubts and wandering the fortress corridors with only one companion, I came across him yet again and wasted no time in returning with a suitable weapon. The knife to his spine took longer than I ever could have hoped for to do it's work, and as always vengeance was mine. Blood will be paid for with Blood, it is said, in this life, or the next.
Cough... cough... I've been killed... stabbed in Girton... Blegh.....
Dearest Umpire, This very evening, at 23:00 hours (10-02-2005), having been sadly inactive since last week, I have deposited a little gift in the pigeon hole of Robin Message. Happy Christmas man! Beef it up! :p
Maybe i was over catious. I didn't want to die to a poisoned letter though. Knowing that any letter was risky, the best course of action was to return to my chemical lab and dissect the letter. Eventually, rubber gloves were located and put in place.
I observed the following things:
An official letter is often in a brown envelope, so well done. Maybe a different size to normal, but nothing serious. Only initials on the letter was also good. Not sure how they got my middle name, but nevermind that. The letter did however rattle slightly. Only this alerted me to it's nefarious nature, i was quite fooled up to then.
You never know who sends these things, but well done, good try. On the other hand, maybe i do know who sent it. Using fingerprint spray, i have successfully eliminated monkey's as a possible source of this letter.
After seeing a ruthless stabbing of the very much unable to defend himself friend of mine Ed 'the Gun' Gunn, I found myself honour bound to avenge him by stabbing his attacker which i promptly did (the attacker seeing fit to loiter outside the plodge for a perversely long time given his misdeeds).
Since Luke was not bearing at the time, or a legal target, Benjamin Jones has been made irredeemably wanted.
"I approached Magdalene through the gloom. My targets were the elusive 'Kit' Jenkins and Ed Gunn. As I entered the quad, I saw Gunn engaged in jovial conversation, and promptly buried my knife in his back.
Then, some minites after, when I had hidden my weapons, the vile and unsportsmanlike Ben Jones appeared. Ben, clearly relishing his label as wanted, motivelessly stabbed me- or as he saw it- 'for killing his friend'. Rash emotive decisions are clearly easy when you are wanted, and as I died, I was left wishing I could have met a more interesting and sporting end than being killed by a trigger happy wanted person who shot for playing the game properly..."
I think the critical error was claiming to be a Time Lord. Damn Incos...
Michael Wallace, Revelation and myself called round the Robinson inco's room Ed Mitchell tonight at about 8.30. His door was locked; we knocked, he looked out through the spyhole, and saw us. He asked who it was, I said "Tom". Upon being questioned for further nomenclatury details, I told a naughty fib and said my name was Tom Baker. For some reason he didn't believe me, and muttered something about being quite busy and maybe we could come back another time.
We visited Robinson. I tactically lurked the bottom of the stairs while my
associates, dressed in wooly scarves, attempted to gain entry:
KNOCK KNOCK
"Who is it"
(pause)
"It's...er...Tom"
"Tom who?"
Aha! This dastardly response confounded the police force who, due to
training cutbacks, could only respond with:
"Tom....err....Tom Baker"
"Ummm...I don't know any Tom Baker. I'm really busy at the moment. Could you
come back another time, please."
We decided to oblige his offer and hastily jumped into the waiting TARDIS, to arrive back a little earlier. Unfortunately, we still weren't able to kill him because Robinson hadn't been built yet.
Greatness sits upon my shoulders as the dog urinates upon the pavement - with naturalness and ease and some offence to passers-by.
Feeling in a vindictive mood I decided to mount an assault on the "Magdalene Two", Benjamin Jones and Christopher J Jenkins. After grabbing some lunch I arrived at Magdalene and spent 10 minutes wandering around looking for Benson Court. Eventually I discovered it was just across the road. Upon arriving I found that J staircase was very narrow and easily defensible, and had a dodgy door system. I noticed a suspicous looking individual, but he wasn't armed, so I decided not to execute him. I then searched for 30a bridge street, and failed utterly to even find the building. If all the would-be vigilantes are as half-assed as me the Terrible Twosome will be at large for some time.
I went adventuring to another college today in search of one Edward Gunn, one of those against The Cause. However, they did not appreciate the effort I had made and had inconsiderately ventured off, leaving the room locked. Even the offer of a gigolo on the door didn't materialise. I was most disappointed...
Time for more killing another day.
A Small Cardboard Box sends his regards to Benjamin Jones, and further hopes that today's fervent efforts to discuss matters were not taken in the wrong light.
Pursuant to Benjamin Jones's remarks after the last encounter, namely that "this guy has issues", A Small Cardboard Box felt it would be helpful to talk things over further.
A Small Cardboard Box notes that the gun in his hand was merely there out of an (obviously misplaced) paranoia as regards Benjamin Jones's reaction to finding an Assassin outside his door. Furthermore, the sudden hail of rubber bands was purely accidental - I am sure we are all aware how temperamental these devices can be.
A Small Cardboard Box was saddened by Benjamin Jones's subsequent unwillingness to converse, and hopes that this incident has not caused damage to what would surely have become a beautiful friendship.
A Small Cardboard Box will, of course, continue to attempt negotiations with Benjamin Jones, and hopes for more success next time.
Just opened my door to two assassins. I have a temperature of 102 and they still missed several times before I closed the door. Pillocks.
Aujourd'hui je mets des lettres de poison dans les trous de pigeon de deux de mes cibles. J'aime l'extension facile de date limite de competance ! Madamoiselle Noire
I noticed in my pigeonhole a letter that had some suspicious vaseline-like marks on it so I got my letter holding device and delicately took it to my room.
I there donned latex gloves and conducted a quick investigation which confirmed that it was chock full of talcum powder as expected from the residue on the outside of it and then binned it.
Sitting alone in my bedroom, with the whole world turned towards me, my thoughts start to slowly turn to paranoia. I imagine my dead friends are talking to me:
'Paper Cuts, you must avenge my death. You must go and kill Chris Field.'
The ghost of Gordon Freeman is talking to me. 'But Gordon,' I point out. 'Chris Field didn't kill you! It was somebody else remember?'
'Hmm... good point. Oh what the hell. Go kill Chris Field anyway. You can kill the other guy afterwards if you feel like it.'
Not being one to argue with dead friends who might have superpowers like not helping me with electromagnetism, I sallied forth and bravely poisoned his doorhandle when noone was around.
How utterly lame is, I assume, Phil Bridge? I'm *surprisingly* not dead. Mostly because gooey blue stuff is VERY EASY TO SEE. Good thing my washing is free, else I'd be charging for the mess on my sleeve.
Aujourd'hui je mets des lettres de poison dans les trous de pigeon de deux de mes cibles. J'aime l'extension facile de date limite de competance !
I have just recieved a letter addressed in the following fashion:
The Occupant
Room ***
********** College
Cambridge
CB* ***
Sadly for the sender, the only people who send letters like this to me are the TV licensing types, and they always go straight in the bin anyway. It also didn't have a stamp or postmark. Nice try.
An assassin must be watchful, Always on his guard. It can get a little dull, But don't forget your door! You may cover every angle, Always watch your back, With wanteds never tangle, But don't forget your door! You know better when you hear a knock Than to open wide Those that do you swiftly mock But don't forget your door! When a friend arrives to see you In they come at once, By all means swiftly greet them, But don't forget your door!
Our hero in a stream of coolest ice, Was bathing for an hour which was so nice, Until a friend of his came round to talk, And left the door unlocked when in she walked, And acting on this golden gift, it passed, A lurker stodeth forth and might'ly blast, A shot or two into our hero's back, And turned the world a ghastly shade of black, No pain he felt as to the ground he fell, Commending soul to heaven or to hell, Into the Gods' fair grasp he placed his sp'rit, And left this world with simple words: 'Oh Sh*t'.
I've made my attempt to kill Kiku on Friday, 11th, Jan at 6.00pm, but he was not in again.
This form of indirect attack is known as Sending a Poisoned Letter. The concept is so simple that only a complete idiot would require further explanation.
So, Mr Umpire, it's really very simple. Consider the process of making an omelette. You need a pan, or envelope, some eggs, or a letter, and some butter, or poison. Now, crack open the eggs into a bowl, being careful not to let any shell fall into the bowl. Melt the butter into the pan. Now, pour the eggs into the pan. Allow the omelette to cook, taking particular care to make sure the egg is spread all over the surface of the pan. Finally, fold the omelette, or poisoned letter, and serve to your target.
Marmeduke left a folded paper package outside my door this afternoon (5.45pm), containing poison which looked and smelled very much like toothpaste and a threatening letter, none of which scared me. I have gloves and scissors which are only too willing to destroy such poisoned letters. Though my bin smells fresh, which is... useful?
at 11.09 this morning i ventured into Robinson College in search of the incompetent: Niraj Modha (Dego the Spanish jester). Thanks to a helpful college map in the porters lodge i quickly found B3 leaving a deliciously smelling note to tempt by foe. I do hope he liked it...
What's this? Mmmm, an inco in my own college? Yes, well that needs dealing with doesn't it precious? What, you mean they aren't that incompetent and have their door locked? Tricksy little incompetents. Mmmmm, knock and wait for a while. Hmmmm, I think they are out precious. Mmmm, they are leaning out of the window. Nasty incompetents! Time to run away quickly, mmmmm. Still, we tried, mmm, yes, didn't we precious? I knows, she'll kills them, yes, that's it. she likes eating tricksy little incompetents.
"When i wet my flashing sword and my hand holds forth in judgement, i shall take vengence on my enemies and repay those who hate me. oh lord raise me to thy right hand and count me among thy saints".
Community service agent connor, my long lost and mostly thought dead son, set up a meeting with an inco known as STEVE MOUNSEY. aparently he knew about a hit, hell even the bartender knew about it, that fat fuck knew before we did. mounsey was obviously one of those who had crossed over into true corruption, into our domain, and he looked behind him and saw IL DOUCHE. who stabbed him in the back. his last words were "That was cheap". I performed the last rites and placed pennies in his eyes.
Il Douche of the saints
Last night, I was drunkenly talking to General Disarray at our college's Valentine's bop, when he revealed to me that he had just become incompetent. I was unarmed at the time, and he probably wasn't posted on the website by this point so not yet a legal kill. So instead I told him "I am approaching my deadline soon. I need to kill an incompetent, would you like to help me out here?" (a stealthy ruse) To cut a long story short, he arranged to meet me at St John's College at 2pm today. I also invited Il Douche to join in the fun as he too was approaching his deadline. Then we killed General Disarray. Which was nice.
I have now returned to my secret weapon development lab where I am making a Very Cunning Device. Watch this space.
On Friday at 1700, G.I.Bob left Cambridge in search of his nemesis Bob.I.G. Trekking 50 miles around the Chiltern Hundreds he eventually reached his target, but not before being seriously wounded in the process. Whilst he recovers, he is writing a letter of complaint to the bailiff of the Chiltern Hundreds.
Lamely, my attempt on a certain De Rivaz was foiled earlier due to his high level of defensive precautions. The main stumbling block? His locked door.
I just popped a poison letter in Callum Davies' pigeonhole.
Next time someone tries to poison me, do try to make is such that it
a) Doesn't look so incredibly suspicious, and
b) Doesn't fold over onto the sticky, so that after a few days it dries, and
is impossible to get open anyway.
Last Night an attempt was made on Ziggy Stardust.
Unfortunately the above report cannot be published as nearly the entire thing would need to be censored to avoid revealing the target's college.
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