The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 NewsThe Umpire reports:
After a long day, it's slightly annoying to be shot at, although immortality does have its benefits. I think Ed Nokes was too tired or busy with socks to notice being shot. (And he kind of deserved it.)
As this wasn't a serious incident, redemption will be found in the form of two legal kills.
It has come to The Umpire's attention that Tom Pope has spent a considerable amount of time associating with the incompetent Tom Pugh. As such, Tom Pope has been declared corrupt.
We of Harvey Court would like it to be known that we fully support police officer Raphael's attempt on the life of the guns don't kill people girl, and would like it to be common knowledge that a similar fate awaits those of you who try to enter our property without a good reason. Two examples of good reasons are being the umpire and bringing us a large box of unpoisoned Jelly Babies. Coming to kill people is not a good reason.
Also we'll go out of our way to kick small animals (and sometimes plants if they aren't too scary) if we see them on our way to lectures - we're just that kind of people!
Today in search of competence and hopefully a kill I went off in search of one Carmen Sandiego. I lurked around where I expected him to be for a while but he did not appear. As I waited I started fixing my bike and this caused one lady walking down the street to call to me "Is that your bike" I responded "Yes" and showed her the key for the lock to it. She was at least 30m away and didn't stop to check if it opened the lock so it could have been any key. Tempted as I was to follow her home and see if she'd let me into her house if I showed her a different random key on the basis that it would open her door I decided that this may have been a) rather worrying to consider in the first place and b) rather stupid to consider also.
there was a bloke who wasn't there
i did not see him on the stair
if he comes again today
i'll stab him 'fore he goes away
congrats on the effort though. next time, fuckin leave me doorsign alone.
What do you get the man who has everything? Might I suggest a gravesone enscribed with the words: so what?
oh tonight we will watch of the football
in the common room where we do hang
and partake of fizzypop and minstrels
and talk in weird film-copied slang
we did enter, my father brother and i.
or would have had my father not spied
some sneakyness oozing lurkers inside
and so he did usher us all outside
"bugger" said he. i think they have found us
with profanities which did fucking astound us
and in the bar the hoards did surround us
and pints of guinness were drank quickly by us
we created a plan, we were overheard
by some admittedly crazy small bird
with a dark fascination with all things assassin
and a stance in a bit of danger of crashing
we sent her off for recconaisance.
she went through the crowd with a bit of a dance
a nice little mover, though pissed as a fart
i followed, intentions murderous and dark
the sneaky wee shites were gone, just like that.
our plan of sharp ambush had fallen quite flat
my father walked in, and then fell and then spat.
and the drunken girl laughed and nicked my new hat.
so two attempts on our lot in two days
things are getting exciting i says
but i cant really write poems that well
now where the fuck did i put my pint?
cowardly bastards didn't even try for our rooms.
tut tut, no cheeseburger for you.
Whilst completing a fascinating report on resonant circuits on my good friend's, the wizard in training, computer, I was disturbed by the most delightlful sound of policemen merrily protecting the honour of all good assassins. They, pretending to be another friend of mine wanting to go to the pub (oh, the cunning lot) enticed me to open the door and two of the bobby's shot me in the chest with the latest in RB gun technology. One with glasses, one with a long black jacket and a red hood. Correct me if I am worng, but they are now both wanted. I had a chat, mocked them a bit, laughed at their pain, then endured the rest of my report. Our plan worked brilliantly, the wizard in training lives and I get to screw over some fellow assassins.
The (very corrupt) Black Cat
The Umpire thinks it's very dodgy to be associating with an inco as police, and planning to get police in trouble by "replacing" them... As this was planned, Tom Pope is obviously corrupt, and the kill stands. Also, Mr. Gibson was corrupt already.
The police came nocking again today god being incompotant sucks they're always after me.
Anyway this time i had a fealing they might be on their way so and hour before their arival had switched room with my friend the most devious black cat. They knocked on my door he answered promptly and for his effort was rewarded by being shot in the chest by some fool who thaught that just because he was in my room he was me (to think).
Let that be a lesson all things are not as they seam when they concern The Wizzard in Training
Magdalene to find it overrun by a tribe of police officers led by a monkey. intendend to perhaps have some fun with them, but dithered for too long and ended up just avoiding them.
1. 'Kill' of Thomas Pope
We congregated in the Pickerel, and made our merry way to Magdalene, where we set up a siege on Thomas Pugh's room, blocking his spyhole and knocking on the door. Comrade Chris Korek fielded the questions, doing an apparently convincing impression of Neil Sadler, and the door swung open. Forward leapt Comrade Richard Gibson, shooting down the unfortunate individual, who it turned out was not Thomas Pugh after all, but his neighbour-but-one, another policeman. Thomas Pugh was not at home, though the ensuing discussion prompted the corpse of Neil Sadler and his girlfriend (who I seem to have a habit of bumping into when in Magdalene, and by now must be thoroughly sick of the sight of me) to emerge from their room. We left.
2. Attempt on George Crowley
Hearing that Kit Jenkins was in Harvey Court and having fortuitously got into Benson, we bluffed our way into Kit's staircase to attack George Crowley. As the police swarmed all over the building, Comrade Ben Swire tried to get Crowley with the Saint, but we learnt later that he escaped it.
3. Kill of Michael Wharmby.
We set up a similar formation to the one we had used to attack Pugh, but this time he appeared to be inside and on the phone. I went outside in case he tried to climb out through a window or anything silly, and Comrade Richard Gibson shot him when he opened the door.
After leaving the makeshift police headquaters, we visited incos in Magdelane and corrupt police in Harvey Court. In contrast to previous hunts, where no door was left unlocked, we made much progress. In particular, Revelation has made the game a safer place, despite accidentally killing an inco and two corrupts.
about 8:20 this evening a hoard of policemen hit magdalene. it was about time i guess, given their success rate this week in taking out amos and their rebellious left hand, but these guys were different...and by different i mean bollocks. a group of say 12 shifty looking guys are easy to spot, and even when they were outside my room i could see them all through the outside window. their lameness was slightly reduced by the complicated looking device they left on my door, but unfortunately i guess said contraption was meant for someone inside the room, and was easily diffusible from outside to say the least... but hey, keep trying guys; i'm not the most industrious player of the game - you'll get me soon (impressive nerf weapons buy the way. and i dig the amount of hair on one of you...trailer madness).
For shooting a "flying corpse" Richard Gibson was again made corrupt, but he asserts that the corpse "jumped into the path of the bullets (all of them)" and was rather unlucky to have not hit his actual target. As such Richard was given further redemption conditions of two legal kills, which he proceeded to make.
to round things off we busted the Harvey Court Mafia of Corrupt Police. First was Nick and someone else who may or may not have been hit, and possible dived in the way. Then was Del, who conveniently left his door open, then said he'd poisene dhis doorhandle, which had gone dry as far as we could tell. Finally Peter came to blast the entire squad with some sort of large water pistol whilst we discussed the issue with Del, and was soundly gunned down, with potential loss on the part of the police.
4. Kill of Nick Plummer
Making our way to Harvey Court we assaulted the room of Nick Plummer first, Richard Gibson leaping inside the unlocked room and dealing death to both a decomposing but sprightly corpse and to the dastardly corrupt copper. Deviance will not be tolerated!
5. Del Ahmed
With all the commotion downstairs, Comrade Chris Korek and myself went to attack Del Ahmed before he realised what was up. Surely, *surely* he wasn't going to repeat the mistake he made last time and leave his door unlocked?! He did. In we charged, and I perforated his sedentary figure with shots from my twin RBGs.
6. Pete Myerson
It emerged that Del had left his door unlocked on the grounds he believed it was poisoned (I hadn't noticed...) and a large (and loud) discussion phase erupted. Suddenly Revelation, trenchcoat streaming behind him like a supervillain's cape, came running up the stairs, screaming "Run! CPS!" before cowering like a girl in a corner. The bent policeman Pete Myerson appeared and shot up the stairs with a giant XP, getting me rather wet and hitting another unfortunate officer. Reacting swiftly to this new peril, Martin O'Leary dashed to the banister and Wildfired him, blowing limbs all over the place before the evil traitor vanished from view. Revelation, rediscovering his manhood, then ran with the Chef of Police down the stairs and finished the job with many, many rubber bands.
Tom out.
Dear Umpire,
I have too much work... please remove me from the game.
Does he actually live at that address? Spent about 40 minutes in the freezing cold waiting for any sign of life...still no movement from within. Deciding that enough is enough, I leave a calling card (in the form of a green postit saying "I'll be back") on his door, (just for comedy value!)
I recieved a note today, which reads as follows.
BOUNTY: Ed Heaney REASON: Submitting God-Awful reports SIZE OF BOUNTY: Within 24 hours of posting: 200 biscuit-units 1-2 days: 150 biscuit-units 2-3 days: 120 biscuit-units 3-4 days: 100 biscuit-units 4-5 days: 90 biscuit-units 6-7 days: 80 biscuit-units 1 week+: -5 biscuit-units from total per additional day survived. Style bonus: up to 40 biscuit-units (umpire to judge worth) Suicide: 80 biscuit-units, or current size of bounty (whichever is lower) CURRENCY CHANGE: 20 biscuit-units = 1 pack of chocolate chip cookies Similar exchange rate for other biscuits, within reason COLLECTION: Negotiate after claiming bounty (via umpire)
The Umpire has recieved an extension to this bounty from another source, as follows:
Name: Ed Heaney Crime: Threatening the police Bounty: A flat rate of 50 biscuit-units for his death. This will be waived in the event of Ed plugging a non-corrupt police officer, incompetent or otherwise, before he is killed.
Men on average think about sex once every eight minutes. I make a point of thinking about sex every four seconds. This makes me one hundred and twenty times more manly than the rest of you.
As i sat down to lunch having failed to see either of the dastardly wanteds in lectures, i was not expecting the bloodbath that arose. As we sat down a friend sat to join us, calmly putting his mobile phone away in his pocket as he did so. Thinking no more of this occurrance we continued having luch. Then like a bolt of lightning someone dashed across the hall, and behind matt, shouting "bang" as he did so. As he was asking matt whether he was in fact Matthew Johnson or not i pulled out a gun and shot him, for this gun toting fiend was the Most Wanted Stephen Mcann. Only after the corpse departed did we find out that the 'innocent' who sat down with us earlier had sms'd the wanted and that we had been set up!
As the kill of Matthew Johnson was, in fact, legal, Stephen does not die as a wanted criminal, but as a player.
Life is like a musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Very popular and not as bad as some would have you believe. That is unspeakably awful but mercifully brief.
Damn Irony. Damn what goes around, coming around. Personally i blame the fact that some tit hall students decided to have their own private lunch upstairs which confused me.
Grrr Cold Damp Hail Sleet Work Houses Women Emails Deadline Police? NotApplicableAnyMore Grr Targets Nelly the almost-elephant College Security FriendlyWoman NotSoFriendlyWoman SillNotIn FriendlyGuy In Yey StairCase Time? Watch !!! MissingLecture Panic Run NextTime
Deadline
Dine
The stage was set, the stakes were high, the chips were down and the game was up. It was time for my most important mission so far this game, and I wasn't about to fail. The brief: eliminate Ash before the end of Tuesday, or it would Be Too Late.
As those who live west of the Cam will know only too well, Selwyn College is in fact a mile-high fortress with spiked walls made of a hitherto-unknown alloy of carbon steel and poison. The tops, bottoms and middles of its foreboding exterior are lined with guard post, each of which is staffed by two million giant battle robots armed with laser cannons that fire snakes. The only way in was to hijack a Selwyn Air Service helicopter by disguising myself as a Ukrainian harpsichord peddler, then reprogram the guidance systems in mid-flight to fly upside-down through the entrance in order that my hair would hang down over my face and conceal my identity.
Having made my way to the first courtyard, I realised I was now faced with a mammoth task. E staircase, the college's control centre, housing such core locations as Ash's room, the Master's lodge, the orbital laser cannon uplink and Montana, was situated at the very top of a narrow walkway four hundred miles long and two inches wide, loaded to the point of collapse with time-travelling Slovenian kung-fu tigers. I had only my wakizashi, two drawing pins and a Get Out Of Certain Death Free card, and my superspy-assassin physical fitness trainer was standing behind me telling me that if I didn't make it to the top in one minute twenty then he'd shoot me himself.
Well, to cut a long story short, I fed the trainer to the first tiger
and rode the second one back to the time of the Norman invasion, where I
quickly inveigled myself into a position of power in William's forces, took
over Cambridge (then known as Mexico) and had myself suspended over what
would become Selwyn in a stasis cocoon for nine and a half centuries in
order to wake up at the far end of the walkway only forty-eight seconds
after I breached the college. Quickly I dispatched the guards to E
staircase using a deadly combination of kenjitsu and macram
"Die, foul crimnal fiend!" quoth I, as I raised my sword of vengeance, crafted by Hattori Hanzo's father and enchanted to (+10,+10) by Mickey Mouse, but Ash was too fast! Chortling gleefully, he pulled a lever by his right leg, causing a giant shark to fall upon me from a hidden hatch in the ceiling. I wrestled the shark to death, even finding enough time to turn part of it into a handbag, but the target had made his escape up yet another staircase. As I followed, I saw some henchmen moving in to reanimate the shark with science, but it didn't really seem to matter any more.
On the roof, the skies were dark with driving rain. I could tell from the incidental music that this was the final confrontation, and by golly I was pulling out all the stops! Once, twice, three times our swords clashed, and then, blood dripping from a non-critical but disfiguring cut across my cheek, I stepped back to let Ash make his final dramatic speech.
"You are strong, young one" he intoned, "but do not think you will defeat me so easily. For I, and only I, have harnessed the unthinkable power of the Time Cube!"
So saying, he began to grow larger, transforming as he did so into a giant fourfold face which my one-corner head was unable to comprehend! I fought back as he unleashed wave after wave of attacks, countering with every move I knew from the 'Blade of the Naked Fox' to the 'Hokey Cokey'. At long last, he faltered, and it seemed that I would be victorious.
"It's over!" cried I, poised to deliver the finishing blow. "Your evil schemes will trouble Cambridge no more! At long last, you are defeated!"
"It would seem that you are the stronger," he said, in a quiet voice that I could nonetheless hear over the storm. "But you have not defeated me. For there is one thing that you do not know."
I looked down at him, fearful, unsure of what terrible secret he was about to unleash, and he smiled.
"Cambridge is safe," he said, "but you are not its saviour. For I ... I am already dead."
I was meant to be meeting people in the pub for dinner, but time was marching on, and I wasn't that hungry, so I went to Selwyn instead. Unfortunately I couldn't remember James McLeod's room number, but was pretty sure he was in N, and made my way there. However two people emerged from a staircase behind me, and one of them called the other one "James", though I didn't see which. Could this be my target? I slowed up a little, to let them pass me.
This was where my luck turned sour. Ben Jones, possibly the only person in Cripps who knows who I am, bounded out of nowhere and saw me. He glared, and began asking questions, with pointed glances towards his companions. They waved an arm in the direction of N, saying "I think James lives over there". Dodgy as anything. Then they disappeared suspiciously into M.
Well it would be a cold day in Hell before I was following them in there. I waited a couple of minutes, then weaved my way to the name-board in N to check which room James McLeod was actually in. As I stood in the foyer, one of the people I'd seen before appeared at the window, hand held behind his back in a dodgy manner. He waved. I went for my gun. He fired through the doorway, missing, but he called a discussion before I could return fire. The consensus seemed to be that we should duel, so I discarded my gloves and marched outside to stand back-to-back with the inco copper.
As we waited for Ben (who was umpiring) to call our paces, a thought raced through my brain- "Bugger this". I wasn't sure how well-loaded my gun was, and it wasn't worth dying over an incompetent. One step, two steps, three... I jumped sideways, ran back a little, then kept running (like a badger) right out into the middle of Cripps. He retreated to fetch more ammunition, and totally failed to take my gloves hostage, so I rescued them. I hung around in the entrance as they wandered cautiously over, and called a couple of folks to see if they could come to help, but no-one showed up. So I legged it over to Newnham to seek shelter. And my bag, but that's a different story.
Ross is leaving Cambridge tomorrow, and has requested to go "out with a blast" Police please make a special effort to make him feel loved, as he won't be around tomorrow night.
Putting a reactive OP on Callum's lecture theatre was easy. All I had to do was wait, biding my time. Finally, emerging from the driving snow, there he was. Unaware of what awaited him. Fearless, because he did not know who I was there. Incautious, because the hour was early and the sun dim. Unwise, because his route was simple. Foolish, because he went to his lectures. I took it upon myself to eliminate Callum, no matter what it took. Freezing cold, early mornings, lonely nights, only a gun for company. I was willing to make the investment. To make him pay the price. I liberated him from this world. I set him free. I cut him loose of all this world is and will ever be. Until next game.
Clio
Pegasus Syndicate
I performed euthanasia on Ross to save him from the indignity of a thunderbolt.
4:15
Hearing that my good friend Ross Edmondson was leaving for the rest of the year, I dropped by to say goodbye. And shoot him repeatedly in the chest. And help to carry some of his stuff to the car.
See you next Michaelmas, Ross.
I mutilated Ross at about 4.00 this afternoon. He didn't put up much of a fight.
I then went to Cripps Court, where I again found myself being followed by a suspicious character who looked remarkably like the guy I was fighting last night. Sadly it had been dark, and while I was pretty sure it was him, I wasn't entirely sure. I wandered into M staircase and heard him sprint past me and up the stairs towards his room. Guess that was him then.
Checking the room list at the bottom of the staircase, I saw why I hadn't been able to identify his room last night. My cursory scanning had missed the point that he had replaced his name with "Muppet McNugget, J.P". As I made my way up the stairs with guns in hand, he emerged from the top of the staircase with a couple of girls, who scanned the area for me, and, as I approached after more super-secret concealment, spotted me, and grinned. I ran to the top of the stairs and waited for him to come after me. No response. As I started to make my way down, an innocent leapt out of a toilet and startled me. I fired instinctively, but missed by miles. He looked at me in a funny way and ran off. Clearly James McLeod was still not coming out to play, and his room was locked, so I left again and went to Newnham, where the impregnable defences once again prevented me from rescuing my things.
Today, The Umpire recieved this message:
Recurrent incompetents being an abomination in the sight of the Lord I wish to announce the following Bounty on the head of Michael "Daddy Mac" Tanner. Should any assassin kill him before 23:59 on Sunday 27th February then they will receive a reward of 1 box of Jaffa Cakes (standard 12-cake size). This reward will be delivered at such a time as the killer is willing to make their identity public. The Lady Madeleine of Girton.
The Umpire Notes that should players have managed to remain incompetent for three weeks, they will likely be thunderbolted anyway.
Bonjour! Je suis le chef. Le restaurant de le chef, c'est fantastic! Mais, sacre bleur! Le pompt du pompt le restaurant de la 'Rowan Fields', il a dix starre golden. Mais le pompt du pompt le restaurant de le chef, il a deux starre golden. C'est impossible! Mais, le chef, il a un plan extraordinaire...
Le chef, il pompt un 'RBG' et il aller dans le '[College removed]'. La 'Rowan Fields', il a le practice vocale. Le chef pompt du pompt le staircase concrete et il pompt du pompt dans le corridor.
Sacre bleur! Un homme suspicious, il pompt dans le kitchen et dans le corridor. Le chef pompt du pompt dans le staircase et pompt du pompt le homme suspicious.
Sacre bleur! Quatre hommes suspicious, il pompt dans le staircase. Mais le chef, il pompt les hommes suspicious, et il pompt du pompt le Fibonacci et les monsters terribles et les quantifiers de les trois musqueteers avec les hommes suspicious.
La 'Rowan Fields', il est dans le staircase non pompt pas. il est non mort pompt du pompt pas. Mais le chef, il est competent!
A Small Cardboard Box sends his warmest regards to David Proctor and furthermore apologises for getting blood all over his kitchen.
A Small Cardboard Box notes that the aforementioned brutality was not a little flukey:
A Small Cardboard Box hopes that Dave has gone to a warmer place (one way or another) and that his bedders don't struggle too much with the removal of the red stains.
It's nice to have attempts made on me for a change, I think the room mate and lack of doorhandle scares them off.
Aah, so many memories... specifically: nobody ever coming to shoot me and always succeeding when the actually do.
Thanks Dave
Thave
I think that if I were a superhero Iâd have to be Space Lion, because at least that way people wouldnât mind if I devoured the occasional civilian or space gazelle.
A source known only as "Mummy" sent me this footage of a hooded assassin in Harvey Court. You heartless SWAT bastards, if you hadn't killed us we would have been able to protect mr ninja! How many more have to die?!
Dear Jonathan,
When I made my excuses at Niraj's door, I was in fact impersonating an entirely different individual, whose name is similar, yet fundamentally different, to yours, as you noticed, but apparently Niraj did not. After only a few moments I realised my error- Jon Woolgar(sic) is such a lethal predator that very few people know he exists. Foolishly I had assumed that Niraj was one of those people, and the door would spring open magically in fear. Sadly, he was not, and the door remained shut. So rather than fall foul of Mr. Woolgar, whose wrath is indeed mighty, by robbing Niraj of his blissful ignorance, I shamefully pretended to be you. Obviously, the attempt was wholly unconvincing. My apologies.
As to the second misspelling in the other report, that was just a cock-up. Sorry.
Tom
Umpire, umpire, oh-oh,
A tragic tragic thing happened on Monday. Yes, I must announce the sad demise of... my decorations. I returned to my room to discover that everything had been taken down, except for the scalpel. Yes, college must believe that whilst one cannot express creativity in the form of a crazy door collage, it's acceptable to display dangerous medical instruments. I invite everyone to stand up to the tyranny that is good taste, and to put more things on my door. Please ensure that you place nothing offensive or obtrusive, otherwise, the prettier the better.
Chris Field
Fighting for your right to be arty!
Sophie wasn't living up to our expectations. Her incompetence means she cannot be a member of Foxy's Angels. I visited her room to stop her destroying our illustrious reputation. She wasn't in. Typical that she can't even turn up to her own execution. You just can't get the minions these days... To think, she will never see the full Foxypad now she is out of favour. The wonderous gadgets and top secret plans will always remain a mystery to her now. Such a shame
After some late-night reconnaisance which unveiled a mind-boggling plot for world domination involving mutagen, salamanders, loudness and crows G.I.Bob found himself not far from the dwelling place of Ed Saperia. He decided it would be a good idea to hide nearby and wait for eight hours before following Ed to lectures.
At about 6am the boaties were up, but Ed isn't a boatie.
At about 8am some Mathmoi were up, so G.I.Bob decided to take a very unusual route to get to Ed's lectures so as not to be spotted by any sentries.
It proved to be a very unusual route indeed, taking in such wonderful sights as Mill Road, and so G.I.Bob arrived late to the lecture, which was about UFDs (whatever they are).
Toward the end of the lecture it became clear to G.I.Bob that Ed would probably be leaving, and so he got out his trusy army knife and his good-luck machete and prepared to pounce. Inexplicably, Ed Saperia passed by G.I.Bob completely unnoticed for he was not visible in the next lecture, nor had he passed by whilst Bob was waiting outside.
Slightly confused G.I.Bob went back to his impenetrable fortress and is currently preparing his next attempt.
Doo Doo Doo Doo Yeah Yeah!
Get Dancin'!
Doo Doo Doo Get Dancin'!
Here comes D.J. Disco Tex,
Killin' with his Sex-O-Lettes,
Get Dancin'!
Guaranteed to rock the boat,
Rubber band gun rap 'n' locomote,
Get Dancin'!
Dancin'!
Get dancin'!
Dancin'!
Get dancin'!
Doo Doo Doo Doo Yeah Yeah!
Get dancin'!
Everybody get down and get F-U-N-K-Y!
Today I had my first contact with one of my assassins. Sadly it involved my death. I had nearly reached the sanctity of my college when I heard a voice cry 'Tom!' I ignored it and continued walking. The same voice then asked my companions 'is he Tom?' My 'friends' gleefully responded in the affirmative, at which point a knife was thrust into my back.
Coming out of my lectures this morning, who do I see walking down the other side of the road but Chris Korek? So I followed him a bit and shot him as he walked into Pembroke.
somewhat distressingly, at least to me, upon returning to my college today i was shot in the back by the wanted criminal Philip Bridge, for the sheer perverse pleasure of it.
Phil Bridge also notified The Umpire that he would "suicide for four packets of biscuits." (80 biscuit units.) - so if the police are thinking about baiting a trap...
An attempt to assasinate me was made today but im not sure if it is allowable. There is a note on my door, put there by the college to let people know the computer office has moved. i returned today to find it on the floor, when i picked it up to reattach it there was, written on the bottom, this note has been poisoned. you are now dead.
The Umpire references the note he made in the first week with regards to Milk-ree and Deebo poisonning Kirsty Reger's pans.
Pamela has notified The Umpire that she is now well enough to play again. Happy hunting everyone.
Having been incompetent for a considerable length of time, Michael and Sally have been removed from the game. Hopefully this should encourage the rest of the incompetent players to get out there and do something. If not, this will happen again.
Taking some time off my hectic superhero schedule (saving a baby from a burning building, catching a serial killer, surgically removing a cat from a high tree branch, etc) I was relaxing in a dark and dingy bar, when who did I espy but a notorious Supervillain!
I bided my time until I felt that the moment was ripe to strike, and then I subtly extracted my spare laser from my ankle holster and aimed a Beam of Enlightenment at the Archnemesis. Sadly, the blast went wide of the mark and the dastardly fiend lives to die another day; he took to his heels and scarpered much more quickly than I would have expected one of his rather rotund stature to be capable of. And since the Batbike was at the repair shop, there was nothing to be done but return to the warm, cozy, booze-filled atmosphere...
I visited Trinity last night and had a brief encounter with Cat Hall. It went a bit like this:
Click-click-click
'Ummm... you do know I'm not playing this term.'
'That's okay; I'm already wanted.'
Incidentally since I was playing a pool match at the time I may have been out of bounds, but since I shot her outside the bar where the game was being played, and she's not playing anyway so doesn't really care, I think I should get to keep the 'kill'.
When I eventually left Trinity bar, I had to indulge in the Great Court Run with Dick Grayson, the original Robin Boy Wonder, apprentice to the Dark Knight and trapeze artist incomparable just behind me.
The Umpire notes that jumping out of an out of bounds area to shoot people falls under section 1.2.2 of the rules... (No silly buggers.) but is pleased that the incident wasn't important in this case.
"Look, it's the Plough."
"And over there, it's Orion."
"And the Milky Way."
"Shoot! Shoot!!"
" ... I meant take a picture of that constellation, not, well ... "
"Oops."
"No matter. Someone will clear his corpse away in the morning."
"THE CHAIRMAN IS DEAD!! LONG LIVE THE CHAIRMAN!!!!"
I must report my tragic but not ill-deserved demise.
On Wednesday night I turned up to the meeting of the Astronomical Society in Robinson - not suprisingly, since I'm the Chairman. Shortly afterwards, a mysterious figure appeared. "Aha! I can charge him £2 for entrance!" I thought.
"Hi. Are you a member?"
"No...Do you know Philip Bridge?"
Philip Bridge...I knew that name...it was the criminal who I failed to kill last week.
"No. Are you here to assassainate him?" "No..er...bye!" "Ok, you are. Don't worry, I'm not armed!" I piped up cheerfully as he ran off into the shadows.
For the next hour I listened to the speaker talk about galaxies, thinking that the assassin had gone home and all was well. Blissfully unaware, I turned off the lights, locked up the room, and made my way towards the bar.
Then I heard three quiet clicks from behind me. I didn't even feel the bullets blast through me.
"Are you Jamie Horder?"
"Yes...what the...oh noooo..."
And that was the end of me. My killer was not the person who I had innocently told I was an unarmed assassin, but the two of them were working together. Philip Bridge remains at large, but with this duo on his tail, he doesn't have long to live.
my good self Spingu too! and Alan Bitchmarsh found ourselves stood outside Magdalene. Kind of like Jesuses, but without the flowing hair and beards and with more weaponry. As the mysterious smoke parted and the beam of light from above retreated, we looked for someone we could tail in. So we tailed, and made our way into Benson. Alan disappeared up J staircase, armed with Nerf guns and RBGs, while I hid myself under some handy stairs round the back with my mighty Penetrator to hand. From where I was stood, I heard the faint ring as Rocking the Kaz Bar's doorbell was hit (no use hiding the names, we've used them so many times we know who is who!). Nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen. Then the bell rang again.
Eventually, I heard footsteps on the walkway above me, and saw a shadow of a person making their way towards me. But just before the shadow began to move down the stairs, an RBG appeared, and started firing at me! A police ambush ambushed! The rounds fell to the ground harmlessly, and I returned fire, but couldn't get a clean shot through the steps. Moving out into the open, I saw Kit Jenkins, stood way out of range of the Penetrator, who told me that he knew I was coming (my geology supervision partner had told him I was coming to Magdalene tonight), and saw the glint of pink under the stairs, alerting him to the fact that it was me hiding there, being the only person either of us know of with a sprayed pink CPS. At that point Alan came around the corner, and Kit retreated into the toilet where he spied on us for so long last time, and so we gave up and moved along, with Alan having to return home to his rap collective but myself walking on into town.
Next was Tit Hall, home to two incompetents. Leaving the Penetrator at the plodge as I was going for intraroom attacks this time, I went to find Paula Wylie, who's given address is very very wrong, and needs changing, so I instead went to see an incompetent chump. He would have been quite an easy kill had I known what he looked like, as his room was open and full of very drunk people celebrating a party. Resisting the strong urge to kill all of them (I don't want to be corrupt again just yet), I asked someone else, who then went and told him there was a person outside coming to kill him. Am I really that obvious?! Anyway, I put my gun away and went to wish him a happy birthday, when he appeared at the door with a water pistol and fired in my vague direction, just catching the side of my head, but never mind, he was drunk, and I'll forgive him.
I couldn't be bothered to go and find anyone else to kill, so went instead to stick things on Chris' door, but finding myself lacking in pretty things just put a note on for him, and completely missed the umpire and collection of other assorted assassins inside. So all in all a pretty cack evening. :(
There I was, carefully minding my own business, working at my computer, when my doorbell went. Hmmm thought I. All my friends have been told not to disturb me... Must be a friendly assassin. Thought I'd ignore them, but after the third ring, their persistence paid off. Exited through my back door, and made my way across the balcony. Was about to descend down the stairs, when I remebered the many times I'd considered under the steps to be the perfect place for an ambush. So I slide along the rail, and Lo And Behold! A lurking assassin! Further, he had out his dangerous Pink Penatrator. I fired off some bands at him, and then ran back, calling out if I'd got him. A watery blast was the reply, thankfully to the left of my position. I retreated to fortress Benson J, while my would-be killer attempted some lame dialogue in an attempt to stall me. Safely behind a pane of glass I was happy to converse with him, before he and his cronies left dejectedly.
Almost got me though.
Announcing where you and your assassin friends will be is fine, but one should not do it if you are not going to be on your guard on the street on the way home. There are some mad psychopaths out there, and not all of them were in the pub with you and therefore bound by social no-kill, and not all of them will be after only one of the three of you.
A woman waiting at a bus stop, be she ever so warmly dressed and looking at the ground, should not escape the notice of three live assassins. Particularly, you should not let her follow you along the road and run up behind you with a gun.
Happy birthday Corkscrew. I do apologise for killing your friend on the special occasion, but one takes the chances one gets. And I did get quite wet and cold, if that helps.
Dear Mr The Umpire,
I saw The Umpire today.
He's not half as handsome as you.
Edward.
Dear Umpire,
While I am sorry to say I did not see Simeon Bird today, I did see you, which as everyone knows is the next best thing.
Not Simeon Bird isn't half as handsome as you...
I have appended a picture report, to keep you occupied.
March hare went hunting again. Rowan Fields was in her room this time, and some smooth talking got her to open it about half an inch (obviously not smooth enough). As she was about to slam it, March fired a RB through the gap. The gap was too thin, the band bounced off, and the door was then shut. A long conversation of distrust ensued, and once again, the long trudge home. Also dropped in on an inco 'man of the city'. I quickly found it was his birthday, he was drunk, and had a gun in his hand. So not to been as unsporting as that, made a quick exit from (colleg removed). If things keep on like this, March Hare might kill someone...
It seems I haven't made a 'proper' attempt for quite some time, so I decided to do something about it today. Unfortunately, Paula Wylie either wasn't in or wasn't coming to the door when I called on her this afternoon. Her loss I feel. Oh and just for a break from my standard disengagement routine - I walked out of her college at a relaxed walking pace, though admittedly being careful to look all around me as I did so. It certainly makes a nice change from runnning away very fast.
I took advantage of my recovery to try and attack the in sound this morning after rowing, I "lurked" outside his room from 8.45 till 9.10, assuming that he might attempt to go to morning lectures, but either he had already left or he was cunningly asleep, and therefore avoided me . . . .
Today I decided to go an visit Rocking the Kaz Bah again, in the hope that he may have left his door open or something. He hadn't. He wasn't responding to his door bell either, which disappointed me. Instead, I started back for Tit Hall to find an incompetent chump, now I know what he looks like, but as I locked my bike to the railing outside I saw someone who looked a lot like like Mr Jenkins walking past with an older gentleman. Wasn't Kit supposed to be writing essays today? What was he doing outside Tit Hall?!
Following, I called out "Kit!" not once but twice, and neither times did he respond. I tried to phone him, to see if he responded that way, but all I got was Virgin Mobile Lady telling me I had insufficient credit to complete the call. The two of them obviously knew I was tailing them, and kept trying to escape. The only thing that stopped me from killing him on Trinity Street was that if he wasn't Kit, the older guy was bigger than me and would probably hit me, and I didn't want that. The clincher was when they turned towards Magdalene, I walked on past, they then stopped, saw me, turned and hurried away in the direction of Sainsbury's. I pursued, but lost them in a crowd. I wandered around for a while, got something to eat, but didn't see them again, so went back to Tit Hall. Found an incompetent chump's room, but the door was opened by a girl, who closed it again rapidly when I pointed an RBG at her. So I got my bike and went home to eat onion rings.
Hmmm...why are there nasty wanted cwinimals wandering around Twinity? It's almost as if they're asking for twubble!
I think this guys gonna be about as easy to find as a piece of hay in a stack full of needles
I just shot Nelly-The-Almost-Elephant
I tried to kill zizi tonight but failed. She shot me at approximately 10 past 7. Ho hum.
Inco-bashing again, it would seem. Myself and Censer padded over to the residence of Xina Li only to find nasty-name-switching-shenanigans leading to the death of an 'innocent'. Oh well, worse things happen at sea I suppose, like, say, a giant squid landing on your boat, declaring 'all your biscuit-units are belong to us' and then proceeding to eat said biscuit-units (not that you were too bothered, there were only those nasty milk chocolate digestive ones left - milk chocolate?! I mean come on, if you're going to have a digestive make it plain chocolate or just plain, none of this milk chocolate mularkey...), after which the squid proceeds to steal your Shiny Things, Camels, and of course your entire collection of William Shatner CDs.
I think I've proved my point.
The Umpire notes that players are endangering innocents if they relable innocent rooms as their own. If such an action causes the death of an innocent, the player mislabelling their room will be held responsible, from here on in.
The game rules shall be updated with this accordingly.
At 9.20 this evening, with my inco deadline looming fast approaching on the horizon i didst undertake a trip to robinson College to proverbially bash the inco Edward Mitchell. Having enlisted the help of one of his old school friends i didst attempt a bang kill through his doorway as he suspiciously opened the door to this impromptu visitor. Unfortunately only his head was visible and my aim was not true enough. On pondering the situation momentarily I decided it was a good idea to make myself scarce and fled to the sound of Rubber bands rebounding around me. Unfortunately no kill but at least Im still alive.
Today (Friday) at about 9.30pm I had a visit from an old school friend and 'innocent'.
I was, however, rather suspicious at his sudden desire to see me again and so I refused to let him in. My fears were confirmed when another freak leapt from the shadows outside my room and tried to shoot me. Luckily I shut the door on his foot and I did not die.
We agreed on a truce and I invited them in for port and pistachio dragees* and after a pleasant chat they went on their way.
However, I followed at a discreet distance and then ambushed them on Burrell's walk. Sadly I failed to kill my would-be attacker, but surely this counts for competence?
*Not everyone killing me can expect such hospitality.
Regards,
Edward Mitchell
While this attempt does, in fact, count for competence... it's also an illegal attempt, and Ed. Mitchell has been upgraded from incompetent to wanted. Redemption conditions are 1 wanted criminal, 2 legal targets, or 3 incompetents.
0700- I leave my house.
0710- I discover that the way I hoped to get into
Jesus is locked.
0725- A porter looks at me suspiciously as I leave Jesus,
but settles for nodding politely to me.
0735- I notice a light on in Benson
and wave to the window in case it is Kit. The occupant doesn't appear to be
able to see me.
0745- I find the back gate to Fitzwilliam is locked.
0750- I find the front gate to Fitzwilliam.
0751- I find that the staircase I
need is by the back gate.
0815- A squirrel attempts an ambitious jump and
has to save itself through some impressive acrobatics. This is the most
interesting thing to happen all morning.
0820- I stand outside Ed
Mitchell's window for five minutes in case he climbs out of it.
0825- I stand outside Jon Woollgar's window for no good reason at all.
0830- I see someone with something that looks a bit like a CPS. On closer inspection it turns out to be a sports bag.
0835- I see someone in the distance and wonder if it is Nathan Bowler. It isn't.
0837- I consider shooting a squirrel.
0840- I walk through Trinity Hall buttery. They are serving
breakfast. This reminds me that I haven't had a proper meal since Tuesday
and that Peterhouse stops serving food in five minutes.
0850- I walk past Bryony's window. She doesn't throw anything at me.
0855- The woman at the front of the queue for the cash machine is typing an essay into it. She finally rescues her receipt and drops it on the ground without looking at it.
0900- I buy a pain au chocolat, a chocolate muffin and a coffee from
Starbucks. It costs enough to feed a small African country for a week. My
soul dies a little.
0905- I eat the evil soul-destroying food. It is the
best thing I have ever eaten.
0910- I get home.
today I killed Sophie Lawrence with a stab to the kidney outside a lecture. It was fun but she told me to go away, which hurt my feelings.
Having checked with Sophie, it transpires that she was writing an essay on the modality of the french subjunctive, not, in fact, being stabbed by Ed. Sadly, this means Ed has most likely stabbed an innocent, and his redemption conditions have therefore been increased to 2 wanted criminals, 3 legal players, or 4 incompetents, or equivalent combinations of all three.
Mighty Umpire, Lord of All That Ye Look Out Upon,
I returned to my room last night to discover that someone had responded to my plea for decorative aid. Yes, my door is once again as pretty as a picture, although on this occasion I am unsure as to who the culprit is, though I have my suspicions I feel it also correct to report an amusing incident last night at Harvey Court. I was running an event there, and required paper, so attempted to access A block therein. A certain Adam Hall responded to my window knockings and opened the door for me, when I thanked him graciously for doing so he suddenly ran screaming up the stairs yelling, "Assassins, guys there are assassins here!". Perhaps it was the black coat. Anyway, I managed to explain that whilst I was an assassin, I wasn't there to kill anyone, and that he should calm down. I acquired my paper and left.
I also note that you have some admirers other than myself. Don't let all the attention go to your head and forget about me!
Yours,
Chris Field
Lurked Jesus caff for half an hour, but The Phoenix failed to make an appearance, despite the abundance of burnt food.
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