I'm amazed that I'm still alive given that I'm inco and known to the Du...
BANG BANG BANG
...as I was saying, I'm amazed I lasted that long inco and known to the Duke.
Alas I have met my demise at the cruel ungodly hands of the commisioner himself. I had trusted my cautionous ways and ingenious hideouts too long and had become complacent. However this was not what led to my downfall. The commisioner himself had brutally and cruelly taken down another that very same day, and instead of taking my secrets to the grave as well he ought, the fool spilled all and revealed crucial information that led to my demise. I would say all's well that ends well, but I died so I guess that phrase is inappropriate. However I had a nice conversation with my murderer who proved himslef to be the most gracious of killers and not the tyrant I had presumed from his frequent attempts on the lives of many.
Dear Umpire
I lurked some doods.
Yours,
Luke Bennett
I found "That One Guy" in a cafe, preparing for his final meal. Of course, his actual final meal was probably his breakfast or dinner the night before, as I stabbed him, saying "stabby McStabStab" (in retrospect, I probably should've said "It's a me! Mario!"), before he could begin
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Herþan!
He knew it was coming. Nothing needed to be said- just a simple nod.
Just writing to confirm my death at the hands of Door2Door Salesman this afternoon. He stabbed me as I was just sitting down for lunch. Nice guy :P
At around 1:10pm today I headed to the room of Anne Bonney, only to be thwarted by card reader locks outside his staircase. After lurking for 15 minutes with no sign of him, I gave up and left.
Anne Bonney came back from lectures to see a rather suspicious-looking gentleman waiting outside of his headquarters, and cursing himself for not bringing a weapon with him, he lurked in the shadows for around 15 minutes while his foe dallied around outside the only open entrance. The chap (Anne Bonney, it appears to have been) finally left out of spirits, but for Anne Bonney, this was the beginning, not the end.
He immediately rushed up to the kitchen, grabbed the largest water pistol he had available to him, and sprinted out in pursuit of his potential assassin. This wasn't over.
He dashed across a road and along a path, hoping he'd picked the right direction...but he was thwarted! Thwarted, by a Japanese tourist who wanted some nice architectural photographs taken. Anne Bonney never found out where Pope Gregory had escaped to. He did find out however, that it's extremely difficult to take pictures whilst preventing a supersoaker from dropping onto the ground from underneath one's coat.
Bambi went searching for green fields and pasture new but was left disappointed. Take pity on a small deer and don't be unpredictable?
I lurked Tristan Maxwell's home without catching sight of him entering/leaving the building.
I made a failed attempt on Dergeilehase at 8pm unaware that the thunderclouds were after him. I burrowed all the way to the far depths of his college to find his room only to be thwarted, though I did find a lovely parsnip which made up for it.
Alas, this police officer's doughnut-eating habit came to a sticky end at 12pm today. I was leaving the mail room when I encountered Professor of love, someone I knew to be an assassin, performing an unsubtle distraction outside. Unfortunately I was unarmed at the time so, while considering my limited array of options, I was stabbed in the back in front of some horrified tourists.
I was feeling a bit down, having a bad day, you know... I knew what would cheer me up. I went and gave Pierre Dubois a good firm stab in the back. Feel a lot better now :-)
I decided to go after Stilgar. I rushed to get there and positioned myself on a part of the route- thinking there are a few who have a lecture and I would easily spot him... In come several hundred people... No Chance. (Maybe I should've taken them all out. Sure it's inefficient, but it would work.) Then we have the failure of catching Anne Bonney. I chose a time to lurk his food hall and various areas around it. No sign of him as well.
Despite being scheduled for testing, the expected test subject The Betrayed did not access the test room at the required time. Please be advised that a noticeable taste of blood is not part of any test protocol but is an unintended side effect of the Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grid, which may, in semi-rare cases, emancipate dental fillings, crowns, tooth enamel, and teeth.
Well, apparently I tried to kill a thunderbolted corpse this morning. No surprise that I couldn't find him: I wasn't looking for an ash pile...
At 10.50 Stilgar went in search of Harkoneens (Raspberry Skelter) none were to be found and after lingering for 20 mins in the hope that some would appear he gave up.
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Lurked around the residence of Anne Bonney tonight with the Professor of Love, but with no success. Has Tristan Maxwell lost his touch?
I stumbled into my local to grab a drink after a rough and dismal day. Over to the left, I spot a certain Door2Door Salesman but there was something in the way he looked at me I didn't like. I approach him.
"You got something wrong with me?"
"No, sir"
"Then why you looking at me, Is it the way I look?! 'cause I would rather look as ugly a mule than be a poncy pretty boy"
He stands up - obviously not even intimidated and stared me straight in the eye
"Sir, You have insulted my honour. I challenge you to a duel!"
So that is how it happened. We both were given a gun (by some rather obscure individuals who thought it would make for amusing watching) and made to hunt each other down. I roamed the college building searching for my prey. After a tense 15 minutes, I readied myself by a junction- hearing someone's stride. My opponent appeared, gasped and he fell with a single blow.
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We visitet Tristan Maxwell's rum. Not there. WANT EAT BRAINSSSS!!!!!
Sinzerly,
the Zombiez
Min heafod is homere geþuren, searopila wund, sworfen feole. Oft ic begine þæt me ongean sticað, þonne ic hnitan sceal, hringum gyrded, hearde wið heardum, hindan þyrel-
forð ascufan þæt mines frean mod freoþað middelnihtum. Hwilum ic under bæc bregde nebbe, hyrde þæs hordes, þonne min hlaford wile lafe þicgan þara þe he of life het wælcræfte awrecan willum sinum.
My head is struck by a forging hammer,
sheared close by a shaping blade,
honed smooth by a fierce file.
Sometimes I swallow my tempered foe,
when bound by rings, I heave from behind,
thrust a long limb through a hard hole,
catch hard the keeper of the heart's pleasure, twist with my tongue and turn back the midnight guardian of my lord's treasure
when the conquering warrior comes to hold the gift of slaughter, the joy of gold.
Raspberry Skelter shaved the day with a toothpick and a finely woven blazer raid.
This afternoon the Raspberry was feeling peckish having spent weeks fed with nothing but water and soil by his spade-wielding butler. "Poor show" he said to the servant, for I am a carnivorous Raspberry, Rubus gigantis carnivoriorioriorius, and you must feed me with blood if I am to grow into a juicy neon raspberry. How else shall I be strong enough to metamorphose into this highest of all lifeforms, with power over all that lights up the night?
Thus, Raspberry Skelter sallied forth to the tower of Tristan Maxwell. While noodling a round sheepishly he encountered a neighbour outside Tristan Maxwell's door. The attempt to lure him out via the friendly neighbour sadly failed. He was getting nowhere with dogging a fed horse. However, the raspberry was not to be put off by this trifle (he ate it instead), and then set off for the realms of The Betrayed, disguised as a strawberry. The raspberry would feed tonight.....somehow or other......
Almost immediately, I, the Raspberry, bumped into The Betrayed at the college entrance, whereupon I shot him with molten raspberry jam, melting him into the pavement. A dark shadow turned towards me and said "I'm afraid The Betrayed is already sleeping with the fishes". This perturbed me deeply, for I happened to know that these fishes were already married to an acquaintance. How could I possibly break the news of their infidelity to someone I barely knew?
Listening in on the discussion, the Raspberry discovered that only 30 seconds earlier this figure had killed The Betrayed. A voice in the Raspberry's head opened up a persuasive line of reasoning, "every cloud has a liver signing" it said, before extolling the benefits of killing the assassin of the assassin. Perhaps this assassin is the one who has been targeting me?
Raspberry Skelter acted unthreateningly as he brought to the forefront of his mind a well known proverb - The wolf modeling sheep's underwear should not be confused with the wolf in sheep's clothing. However, in this case the wolf was not modeling sheep's underwear and, lentil as a jam, Raspberry Skelter stabbed his would-be assassin in the back, before drawing a straw and sucking out the fruity goodness pouring from the assassin's back. In fear of phone-aided retribution he shouted "Egg lit!" and ran off down the road like Noel Coward, no doubt with inappropriate images of eggy romantic literature running through his head. "Mmmm don't stop deshelling on my account, Mrs. Egg," he thought to himself, as a smile crossed his face.
After leaving hall tonight I passed someone I didn't recognise and as I was walking away I heard heavy footsteps and we both started running and he pulled a gun out firing a number of shots and I turned around and threw a knife. At that point we discussed what had happened, deciding that it was likely that I had been hit and my demise came at the hands of Pope Gregory IX.
I took an opportunity just after dinner this evening to assassinate The Betrayed, waiting around outside Hall for him to emerge. After following him briefly I drew my gun. Seeing me, he attempted to flee and retaliate, but this was to no avail, and I brutally gunned him down.
As he lay bleeding on the ground, I tucked away my gun and prepared to leave, when he began to utter with his dying breath: "Wait, please! This knowledge must not be lost! I have discovered-"
Suddenly, a series of bullets ripped through his body and he collapsed, dead. I turned to see another unknown assassin, weapon in hand. "Stop!" I cried, shielding The Betrayed's corpse, "He's already dead! He's already deeaaad!!"
Little did I realise that my own doom was fast approaching. Maddened by his lack of a kill, and caring not for the retaliation of the police, the assassin descended upon me and horrifically stabbed me in the back. As I lay bleeding alongside the corpse of The Betrayed, I asked the assassin his name.
"Raspberry Skelter" he responded.
"God dammit! I had you as a target!" I yelled in a rage, and then promptly died of irony.
Last night at about 3am I found an extremely drunk The disembodied head of film noir legend: Robert Mitchum lying in the corridor, so I (in my not entirely sober state) decided it prudent to remove his arms with his trusty biro-knife that had fallen from his pocket. He then crawled at me on his front (but not using his arms) in an attempt to attack me, so I pegged it back to some stairs that he couldn't navigate. He just removed one of my arms as payback.
Incompetent Vigilante in my town? Not going to happen...
I had noticed that Super Saiyan Dan Level 1 had been inco for a while, and had been waiting for a chance to get him. Lo and behold, this lunchtime, I spotted him coming into hall shortly after I had sat down. After waiting for him to sit down (with his back turned to me no less!!) I got up, walked over, and stabbed him in the back.
Today I visited the staircase where Tithe My Wok resides... upon realising that it was also the home of several other known assassins, I decided not to push my luck, and merely lurked for a while, hoping that he might leave his room. He didn't, and I went home disappointed... and wary.
Tried the normal pasture and discovered no Professor of love to play with, maybe it was the snow?
At about 3.10 To counter this Bambi went searching inside for nice green shoots, sadly after having found a clearing which looked suitable he discovered that the lack of opposable thumbs makes door opening quite hard and so after forlornly meandering for a while he wandered off hungry and disappointed.
So, I was wandering back from a supervision earlier, feeling sorry for myself. Then who should I see but Anne Bonney stealthily pulling a gun and trying to shoot me. I dashed into my room and considered just sitting around and working until she got bored, but decided that is not what being a professor is all about. I sneakily snuck out of my door and around an elaborate path through the depths of the building in order to flank her and promptly shot my assassin square in the chest while she fumbled to retrieve her gun. I then invited the corpse in for tea and had a lovely chat, later joined by Tristan, before skulking off to more supervisions and feeling very hard done by, and rather guilty as always after a kill.
Much Love,
The Professor.
Anne Bonney's state of affairs had decidedly taken a turn for the worse. Her crew had mutinied against her policy of second homes for Captains and First Mates, and they left her marooned in some forsaken town that went only by the ominous name of 'Cambridge'. Being incompetent, she had no allies in the world willing to be her crew, and it seems as though her days of captaincy were over. But this would not be the final 'yaharr'. Indeed not. In this town she still had targets, a chance to regain competency. Cue the scene where Anne Bonney travels to kill the Professor of Love, and regain her honour/competence.
The Professor of love's fortification was well hidden, and the porters definitely seemed to sense that Anne Bonney was up to no good, asking a lot of trying questions before she was given enough information to find the right building. Locating the Professor's room, the pirate withdrew into the shadows of a hiding-place, and waited. And texted people for want of something better to do.
People walked to and fro on the corridor, but no Professor. Anne Bonney waited. And texted. Finally, there was a shuffle - a stop - a key, in the lock of the room she was lurking! Anne Bonney's texting had been her undoing though, because putting the phone in the pocket delayed the drawing of the gun, and as Anne leapt out, the Professor was startled but had enough time to rush into his room.
The door slammed shut. Hmm.
Anne Bonney decided to hide around the corner for a while to see if her target might deign to sneak out again sooner rather than later; and fortune was on her side on this occasion. A couple of door creaks, along the corridor she was lurking, suggested that the Professor of love might be sneakily sneaking out of the corridor the other way in a sneaky fashion. Unable to contain her curiosity, she glanced to check whether it was actually her target. On the positive side, it was him. On the negative side, he saw her too.
So she ran down one staircase, and he ran down the other. They met on the lower floor, and both drew guns - but the Professor was faster and Anne Bonney was well and truly 'shot dead' first. But at least she died as a 'competent' pirate assassin. This was tribute enough to the whole hullaballoo. And that her corpse was still able to stay about a while and meet another potential assassin, Tristan Maxwell and enjoy beverages proved that it's not all bad, being metaphorically dead, even when you're (supposedly) a three-hundred-and-eight-year-old female buccaneer.
P.s. This pirate also says thank you very much for the tea and company!
The Tittering Machine waded through far too many puddles to search for Mario. All he saw was a lesser spotted Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb! and now his feet feel like a pair of sponges. aahhck.
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