The Assassins' Guild - Week 5 News

What with it being a Thursday morning, Cakeface decided to get up and go for his morning run.

"I've had enough," he thought to himself. "I need to get back to reality for a bit. This is madness. I ought to just go out and leave my weapons at home and just enjoy feeling safe in my own city."

Opening the door a crack, he happened to espy - Oh horror! - none other than the figure of Big Kahuna Burger, lurking in the corridoor!

"Scratch that," thought Cakeface.

Sneaking more sneakily than a batallion of ninja rats in slippers, Cakeface dashed out of the staircase, luckily evading the gaze of his would-be attacker.

Being a resourceful sort of pastry, Cakeface decided it might be a good idea to ambush his ambusher. So, waiting outside his home, weapons in hand, he cowered like a custard tart.

Alas alack! Who should then spring an ambush on him but the nefarious SCIENCE!, wielding a rather oversized and fairly scary looking gun!

Somehow, it seemed that the contraption was no match for the range of Cakeface's sneaky-sneaky, and unfortunately SCIENCE! was sent to an oven-fresh grave by a squirt to the chest. She died most graciously, and seemed like a truly amiable sort, but with Big Kahuna Burger still lingering somewhere nearby, Cakeface, for the first time that morning, fled!

Later, at his morning lectures, Cakeface noticed whilst casting his eyes over the amassed crowd that Big Kahuna Burger had followed him from his home, and - fiddlesticks! - was now seated by the exit.

For the second time that day, Cakeface indulged in some sneaky-sneaky sneaking out of the lecture hall.

Also for the second time that day, Cakeface promptly fled!

Taking a much-needed break from flinging rubber bands all over the place, Cakeface decides to take himself out for a hopefully assassin-free night of merriment.

Whilst shaking his bakey booty, Cakeface is lucky enough - cor blimey! - to overhear what sound like the conversations of one of his unfortunate targets. Espying a chance for a bit of the old sneaky-sneaky, Cakeface dances nearer and tries to listen in.

Taking a break from reporting in the third person, Cakeface would like to clarify the following two points:

1) Fresher assassins are not all *that* rubbish. Please don't put them down so publically. Yes, they may be stupid, and annoying, and turn up in all those weird places you thought were reserved exclusively for dust, paperclips, and the Homerton Lacrosse team, but they have a jolly good time doing just that, and that's what counts according to the chap who lives across the hall.

2) Somebody owes me a fuckload of biscuits.

Sadly, the poor chap/ette then buggers off, without even giving Cakeface a chance to make an attempt. Oh well.

Whilst walking along Mandingley Road I thought I felt a leak in my bag and so removed my gun to inspect it. It was then that a suspicious person wearing a hood over his head and a scarf hiding his face some distance further up the road spotted me. He refused to give his identity upon questioning and as I retreated he followed me. At one point he produced a weapon and fired at me, but I was just out of range. Once I passed the junction with Grange Road he gave up pursuit and disappeared. I returned to my residence safely.

What to do on a Friday afternoon?

I had an hour to kill ( ha. ha. ha.) so I rounded up some unsuspecting friends and headed to Pembroke for a relaxed lunch (very pretty College, very accessible by the way).

No sign of Cakeface or in fact any decent cakes either in hall, so I took a little trip to his staircase to see if he was in (which he was not).

Damn.

Cakeface is awakened by the shouts of "snow! snow!" from outside his room. Peeling back his curtains reveals a thick layer of the very stuff coating the entire college. Cakeface loves snow, and so proceeds to get very excited, very excited indeed. In fact, he gets so excited that he just has to go and kill Tinkerbell.

Cakeface turns up at the Chip Shop of Mistaken Identity in search of Tinkerbell. Quickly nipping over to her house, Cakeface is rather disappointed to find that the snow is melting somewhat. Regardless, he decides to hang around for at least a good half hour - and does so.

A Jolly Chilly Cakeface friggin hates New Hall. I mean, what's going on there? Are they going for the whole Japanese minimalist designer thing, or simply Bromley council estate? Today they got a bit frinky and decided to deck the place out in snow, but it still looked pretty silly. And there's me, hanging around in an apple tree, freezin my arse off like a baked alaska. For a whole friggin hour.

Jolly good that A Jolly Chilly Cakeface remembered to bring his gloves. No sign of Tinkerbell. Around about quarter to eleven, it suddenly dawned on me that I knew where she'd be, and it sure as heck wasn't in New Hall.

Damn.

After recovering from the previous day's chilliness, Cakeface decides he really ought to do something about this Tinkerbell girl.

Heading back over to the Chip Shop of Mistaken Identity, Cakeface wanders on over to Tinkerbell's house as nonchalantly as one can when one's water pistol is leaking quite obviously all over the front of one's hoodie.

Cakeface quickly takes up position behind a handy tree. Minutes go by. Cakeface once again begins to resemble a baked alaska.

After a long while, Tinkerbell pokes her head from behind her door, and makes her way over to the bike sheds. Cakeface quickly runs around to catch her coming out the other side.

Being a lucky sort of Cake, he does.

Like a victoria sponge in an oven pre-heated to gas mark four, the sun begins to rise. Cakeface heads home for some celebratory face-stuffing. Likely involving cake.