The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 NewsMu ha. ha... ha...
Greetings Larries, Wabbits, Gentlemen, Builders etc etc.
It has been a stressful week in the life of your favourite megalomaniac. First my daughter was killed, then I caught the Flu, then my favourite Grievance Stick broke and I stubbed my toe... In short, Professor Incompetent, The Terror of Toon Town is... kinda bummed out.
Only two things can cheer me up when I'm like this: watching my plans work, and, of course, the bestest friend an evil mastermind could have: Stitches the S.T.A.B.. So, here to explain the fun which awaits today, here's Stitches!
Gaaaa Ga Ga Gnaa! Gnn Ga! Gnn Gnnn Gana Gn Gan Ganaa Gaaa Gananan!
Gnaa Ga Gan Gn Gaaaa Gananan! Gn Gan Gnaan Ga Gaaa Gananan! Gnaaa Ga Gn Gana Gan Gnann Gan Ganaa Gananan! Gaaa Gn Gaa Gn Gnana Gaaaa Ga Gaaa Gananan!
Gn Gaaaa Ga Gaaa Ga! Gan Gana Ga! Gn Gaaaa Ga! Gnana Gnnn Gna Gaaa Gn Gan Gna Gn Gaaa! Gnnn Gaana! Gana Ga Gan Ganaa Gaa Gn Gnann Gananan! Gn Gaaaa Ga Gaaa Ga! Gan Gana Ga! Gn Gana Gaan Ga! Gnnn Gana Gnaa Ga Gana Gnnaann! Gan Gna Gnaa! Gaa Gn! Gaana Ga Ga Gnaa Gaaa! Gnnn Gna! Gn Gaaaa Ga Gnn! Gan Ganaa Ganaa Gananan!
Gnann Gnnn Gaan Gaaan Ga! Gna Gnnn Gn! Gnaaa Ga Ga Gna! Gann Gan Gn Gnana Gaaaa Gaa Gna Gnna Gananan! Gaa Gn Gaaa! Gnaaa Ga Gaaaa Gaa Gna Gnaa! Gn Gaaaa Ga! Ga Gnann Ga Gaaa! Gan Gaaa! Gn Gaaaa Ga! Ganaa Gaa Gnna Gaaaa Gn! Ganaa Ga Gan Gaaan Ga Gaaa Gananan!
Gaa Gn! Gnaaa Gaan Gana Gna Gaaa Gananan!
Gaa Gn! Gnaaa Gaan Gaa Ganaa Gnaa Gaaa Gananan!
Gaa Gn! Gnana Gnnn Gna Gaaa Gaan Gnn Ga Gaaa Gananan!
Gan Gna Gnaa! Gaa! Gaaaa Ga Ganaa Ganna! Gaa Gn Gananan!
Gnna Gna Gan!
Aww. Isn't he adorable!
A figure in black and white ascended the spiral stairs to the white door.
He knocked four times.
Nobody answered.
He will come again.
He will knock four times.
Robert the Construction Consultant let Larry loose against Equinox (Robert Morosanu) moments before the immensurably-impressive Incompetent-led Incobash arrived. So far two members of Toon Town have fallen victim to abnormal arachnid-related accidents. Robert the Construction Consultant is unhappy he has not grown the list at a faster rate...
The squad is formed, the guns are ready. We walk towards [PLACE]. The obvious question is on everybody's mind: "Who's gonna do the knocking?" Turns out not many people want to volunteer: we're all live.
We reach our first destination, hoping to leave Atletico and Hungry Alan in a state that couldn't possibly be described as alive. A few knocks on each door turned out to be not enough to achieve our goal, so we leave heading for [PLACE].
At [PLACE], we try to find Mort. After there is no sound from behind his door, one of the squad members tried to find their friend who lives nearby but that strategy doesn't work either.
We stop for cake.
Back to business. Another filthy inco could be hiding nearby: RumHam. Coming up to his place, we find someone, let's call them Person A in this report, who lets us all in while walking out of the building. We go up to RumHam's room only to find the locked door. Something is happening in the kitchen. The mysterious noises lead to a discovery of a microwave with a timer, so we decide to wait for the remaining 10min hoping that RumHam would come out of his room to extract the food. When the timer had only a few minutes remaining, we heard someone coming up the stairs. It was Person A. He didn't seem to mind a group of people with guns standing outside someone's door. He then proceeded to take the food out of the microwave. A big disappointment was clearly visible on all of our faces and so we left.
After wandering for a while we got to the place where DisguisedToast. After a series of unsuccessful attempts being met by a locked gate was very upsetting. It was so upsetting that we decided to explore [PLACE].
When we got there, we attempted to murder Poison Pi, but she wasn't in. We almost lost all hope but then there was a lucky change of pattern: BM (Bethan Morris) opened her door without asking too many questions, which she immediately regretted as I shot her before she could even open the door fully. Unfortunately, the next attempt on Babriel Worp didn't go as well: he did not seem to be inside. We went upstairs and were joined by a member of the police force: The Names of Recent Players. In spite of this, we couldn't find Two Minions in a Trenchcoat in his room. After searching the college bar for a sight of incompetents, the squad headed back.
It might not have been the most productive incobash, but at least no squad members were killed.
- Paranoid Hyperboloid
Dusk was approaching, and Bayon the Bricklayer was getting exhausted. Yes, he was exhausted indeed. Exhausted with bricklaying without rest, exhausted with the treatment from his seniors, exhausted with this system of ignorance. He knew, very well, that the fundamental problem resided with the structure of society. He knew, very well, that what seemed like a society that valued freedom of voice was in fact one that valued freedom of capital. Therefore, he was aware that the voices heard were the voices of the greedy, not those of the needy.
At that moment, he heard a voice from inside a room.
"I am so tired of living. I've already reduced the workers' salary to minimum wage yet my company is still losing net worth!"
Bayon the Bricklayer was triggered. He pulled his pistol out of his coat and entered the room. He pointed his gun at the man, the villain and victim of the system, and muttered, "maintenance", before pulling the trigger.
Of course the problem resided with the system, not with a particular individual, and this assassination would not be a meaningful step towards justice. However, when he exited the building, the air seemed that tiny bit more breathable.
When I woke up, it was to a town fulla whispers and not a lotta answers. Something went down during the night – something big – but no-one who knew exactly what seemed much inclined to talk, ya know? But something bad had happened to a whole lotta toons. And The Gentleman – the guy who was supposed to be protecting me, so long as I helped out with his dirty work – had skipped town. Businesses empty. No sign. Apparently even he didn't wanna be mixed up in whatever just hit the fan, and I for one did not like the look of the situation if it was too much for a mob king like him. But I didn't have any way to disappear, nowhere to go, and anyways. I had a case. Even if I didn't like it, I couldn't let this one go cold.
And, whatever had happened, it seemed I still had someone on my side, or at least someone who thought I was still useful. Another plain folder under the door in the dead of night, no sign of anyone there to actually deliver the damn thing. There wasn't so much in this one, no files, no identification, nothing. Just a poster for some Toon Revue, and a ticket to a private box at the matinee. I didn't think much of it at first – I don't exactly rate toon shows, ya know? – but it was all I had. Jack in terms of leads, protector vanished out of town, and allies dying off or disappearing faster than I could count. So I looked through. It had to be worth something.
And maybe it was. When I looked closer, somebody'd circled a few of the names. Same pen as had scrawled the place and time on the last file, from the looks of things. So whoever it was, they probably wanted me to handle some sorta funny business for them. Still. I'd been happy enough to handle shady business for a boss whose face I could see, long as it kept me alive. I didn't have much more to lose.
So I cleaned up, put on a tie, set a few trips and traps around – nothing anyone would notice, but enough that I'd know if anyone had paid a "visit" while I was out. Then I went on down to the theatre. Wasn't the most reputable joint I'd ever seen – not every toon's career winds up all glittering and clean in front of the cameras – but the crowd was good, and the paint was new. Between the posters and the programmes, I managed to figure out who I'd be looking for. Two of them on stage, and one in the rafters. Hopefully I'd at least be able to catch ahold of one of them, find out how this was all connected.
The curtains went up. Much as I didn't trust whoever the hell kept putting me up to things, I gotta admit, the box seat was pretty swell, and the show ran pretty damn smooth. I managed to spot my guys pretty quick – looked like there'd been some sorta fight backstage. Coincidence? I didn't think so, although I guess the showbiz can be pretty cutthroat. I just hoped whatever their beef was, they didn't manage to tear each other apart before I got the chance to talk to at least one of them.
Eventually, the final curtain fell, and I hurried out to the sidewalk where the stage door let out. It wasn't ideal – I'd hoped for a dead end in some alley, make sure they couldn't get past too easy, but this let out onto a tangle of streets at either end. Damn. Still, I figured I oughta have three chances to get it right.
I crossed the street for a better view of the place, just in case any of ‘em left by the front door instead of the stage door. I didn't reckon any of ‘em had seen me, but who knew what trouble they expected, ya know?
Soon enough, one of the guys strolled out the side. He was looking pretty shifty – I crossed over, walked along behind him, and he clocked me pretty damn quick. Started walking along extra fast, looking around him, acting all set to pull a weapon. He got to the street corner a little ways ahead of me, and by the time I got there, he was running like hell, and halfway to the next intersection. I'd lose him there, or he'd lose me – place was crawling with toons and bystanders, and it was a four-way stop. Too many ways out. And besides, if I went haring off after him, I'd miss the other two. So I rocked back up at the theatre, and hoped like hell I hadn't missed ‘em both already.
I guess I was in luck, at least halfway. Ten minutes more, maybe, and the other toon off the stage strolls out, clear as day. Trouble is, as soon as he saw me step up to talk to him, he legged it. I chased him halfway down the street, tried to cut him off, and it worked – but then he just dodged right round on the spot round and ran back into the theatre. Damn nuisance. Hell if I knew what was going on here, but these toons were sure as hell spooked.
I took up pacing around outside, hoping he'd show his face again before the evening's revue began. There'd been no sign of the crew guy – I guess they had more to be working with between shows than the stage toons did. But eventually my patience paid off – I heard voices, saw the shadows on the wall, and the second toon comes back outta the stage door. And it all happened pretty damn fast, but in that instant it looked an awful lot like he was carrying some sorta sword.
Now, I admit, that threw me for a minute. Guy pulls a revolver on you – well, that's standard when you're chasing down folks who don't wanna be chased down. But a sword? I hadn't seen one of those in a fight in an awful long time.
My .38 was in my hand almost before I had time to think about it, and gunfire cracked off, echoing against the bricks. I don't know how badly I got the guy, but I at least know I didn't take his legs off, given that he proceeded to hoof it outta there. I chased him down – this was getting outta hand – but damn, he was fast, and I'd done too much chasing and not enough eating already that day. He didn't manage to lose me in the crowds, but he didn't need to – guy musta had some kinda safehouse ready, because he vanished off the street in a second, someplace I couldn't follow.
Damn.
So I had nothing – no more leads, and no time to go back and see if by some miracle the third fella hadn't heard all the commotion and shut himself up inside the theatre. All I knew, if that counted as knowing anything, was that things in Toon Town were getting a whole lot worse.
I was out hunting fer rabbits minding me own business when I sees this varmint turn up outta nowhere. I primes me gun and blows it to smithereens; that ought ta teach it a lesson.
I finds a rabbity hole. The entrance was open so I very quietly lowers meself into this hole. I sees a creature sitting there munching on his carrots. Be yous a rabbit? I asks. 'Whats Up ...' BANG!
A figure in black and white ascended the stairs past walls of red brick.
He came to the brown door.
He knocked four times.
Nobody answered.
He will come again.
He will knock four times.
The figure came to another brown door.
He knocked four times.
The man inside heard the voice of death and the voice of god and did not open the brown door.
He will come again.
He will knock four times.
Vote Quimby
Forget that, Vote Innes Competent! Now with 100% more respect for artsy things!
4pm: Went to Selywn to try and kill 2 incos: one of which was already dead when I shot him. Went to Mr_Pizza's room and waited for 15 mins before leaving, since he must have been out.
4.20pm: Went to Robinson to kill the 2 incos there (The Tasmanian Devil's Cousin Twice Removed, Tim and Big Alano) but both weren't in seemingly. I waited for about 15 mins each.
5pm: Went to King's to attempt on Yurio but he also wasn't in. I had waited around 20 mins for him though, to no avail.
6pm: Went to St Catz to attempt on Merlin: he was also not in at the time.
They all seem to have a social life, apparently.
After the bash squad had left, I couldn't come to terms with how few incompetents were punished. I managed to extract some information from an anonymous source that Two Minions in a Trenchcoat were hiding in someone else's room. By accident I happened to find one of their friends. I convinced them to knock on the door. After a few identity checks, the door swung open, which is when I jumped out and shot Two Minions in a Trenchcoat.
As they were dying, Two Minions in a Trenchcoat revealed to me that they were promised a bounty for killing me, despite not having me as a target. Now that Two Minions in a Trenchcoat are dead, whoever offered the bounty ought to watch their back.
The man who knocks four times walked the darkened streets morosely, for purpose was eluding him that day.
And suddenly, as he passed a pool of light and noise, the man realised his purpose stood before him, unnoticed until now.
He hailed RumHam in the bright light of the supermarket windows.
Then he shot his friend in the chest and blood and money spilled from RumHam's hands onto the wet concrete slabs.
His heart knocked four times against his splintered ribcage and was still.
The man who knocks four times strode purposefully away.
A Toon, in rain and blood and money, chosen. From the shadows something emerges and pulls it in. After hours, days, weeks perhaps, the body is finally consumed. Regardless, a figure takes its first steps on new feet and reenters the night.
RumHam lives on.
I killed Mort when we coincidentally met in college. He was well-dressed, but defenceless against my nerf pistol.
Ho there Citizen! Finally [REDACTED] for Captain Redactor! And all it took was [REDACTED].
Time: [REDACTED]
Place: [REDACTED]
Target: [REDACTED] (formerly alive)
[REDACTED], [REDACTED] and I met over a Game of [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and DEATH. Night Angel played strategically. Isoleucine played recklessly. I played badly. After [REDACTED], the call went up.
"[REDACTED]?"
"[REDACTED]."
"[REDACTED]!"
Two rose. [REDACTED] did not. A [REDACTED] was [REDACTED].
"Could you help us [REDACTED] the [REDACTED]?" I [REDACTED].
"[REDACTED]!" they replied as they agreed, followed by a nearby [REDACTED]. A complication, but no match for Captain Redactor (and [REDACTED])!
As we passed the [REDACTED] the [REDACTED] began. We traced through [REDACTED], me watching my [REDACTED], Night Angel his extendo-knife.
The Rendezvous was successful. The [REDACTED] was [REDACTED]. I signalled to [REDACTED] that time was up. A blade met Isoleucine's back. In their eyes as they died, it was [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED]!
Citizen, Toon Town is safe from another [REDACTED]. Captain Redactor will return.
In the early hours of Sunday, I decided to scout ahead of the division to find any potential enemy spies. Based upon previous information, a potential target often resided in [REDACTED] College. Having entered the college, I made my way to the target's room. I was stopped short, however, as my issued pass was insufficient to further approach my destination. Limited time prevented any further attempts that day, but I will return. No targets were killed, but their time is running out as the army approaches.
May God save the Union.
Stabbed Miss Macaroon on her way back from church around 2:30 yesterday. Had just eaten a doughnut, funnily enough.
Wiggum
Mr Meeseeks has been alive for quite a while now, it was beginning to show, he longs for death. Mr Meeseeks had been waiting outside Big Alano's room as he pondered the sweet release of death; as the door finally opened, he burst from the shadows, called out her name and shot her: "I'm Mr Meeseeks!" he screamed as Big Alano's life drained from her body, "Look at me!" and with that Mr Meeseeks disappeared.
Hours later, there was yet another push of the Meeseeks box button, that mysterious voice (which definitely sounds remarkably similar to Professor Incompetent) spoke again: "Help me kill incompetents" it commanded. The latest Mr Meeseeks responded...
What do you get if you cross The Tasmanian Devil's Cousin Twice Removed, Tim with an attack triangle?
The same thing as if I'd done it to you!
I, Dorian Grey, stabbed Miss Macaroon and Toon Loon at 8:45 this morning in Breakfast, in the ACME Centre of ‘Edible Experience'. I had wanted to allow them to conclude their final meal, but I had a 9am and thought they would not be in a position to complain.
With my own competency deadline approaching, I have to prove myself to the high command. Many new targets have sprung up recently, during a large scale investigation of those who have not contributed anything or made any attempts at the enemy.
I decided on Monday morning to make another attempt at one such person in my own training college. I went up to their barracks, but unfortunately they were firmly shut. I understand that this person is hiding for fear to their life. They cannot hide forever, I will find them, and they will pay.
May God save the Union
Paranoid Hyperboloid attempted to shoot down Arturo Fuey at 11am. HE WAS SUCCESSFUL!... only to find Razor's shuriken fatally lodged in his Chest.
Both were killed, OH THE HUMANITY!
This is the end
Hold your gun and shoot them
See them fall to the ground and then
Feel my heart hit by a shuriken
*wiping away a tear* Beautiful…
Tried to kill Robert the Construction Consultant today. Emphasis on 'tried'.
Bother.
At 1:00, outside the classics faculty, I killed a close friend, Natalie, with two shots to the stomach. I feel no remorse.
Today, Kamille learned to respect authoritah when I cooked her head with a lightsaber. If Kamille's family ever tries to make me look less cool, I have a tasty meal waiting for them.
After discovering Yurio's year and subject, I decided to employ the not-so-novel tactic of 'wait for them to show up for a lecture and shoot them'.
Relying on the sadly deceased Paranoid Hyperboloid, reincarnated as a [REDACTED], for protection, I loitered outside the building. After he kindly helped provide a positive ID, I walked over, pulled out a gun, and one shot was all it took. I even got the bullet back.
Paranoid Hyperboloid. A corpse not two hours before.
Matters are accelerating. Have you been listening?
A long day of tracking of Toon Loon, but when I finally found him, only a dead corpse was left. Too late for this prey...
->Bozo is good at spontaneous recognition
->Such a good Bozo
->Unfortunately it turned out I spontaneously recognised a corpse
->Bozo will do better next time
Arranged to meet Leaf in order to borrow a [REDACTED] gun. I stabbed him with the Sword of Gryffindor (obtained via some creative portalling), and departed, gun in hand.
Get riggity riggity wrecked!
Dear Merlin,
There's no escape. If you leave your door unlocked Paranoid Hyperboloid will get you! Even if takes camping in your room for 3 hours.
With deadly best wishes,
Paranoid Hyperboloid
Piii.. ka.... zzzz
Kiwi Dachshund and Regina Phalange I of [PLACE] barracks have been punished for their incompetence.
Vote Quimby,
Regards,
Caporal Blutch
Phalange 4 shouldn't have opened the door,
Phalange 3 was stabbed in her sleep
Phalange 2, killed by Pikachu
And now Phalange 1, they're all dead and done.
Long Live Regina Phalange.
I was walking to [REDACTED] from [EVEN MORE REDACTED] when Poison Pi decided it's a good idea to go shooting po[SLIGHTLY REDACTED]rs. Finally I have an excuse for a short break.
Howdy.
Poison pi here, reporting an unfortunately rather messy incident.
It happened around 22:44
(I like a nice fancy number, but this one wasn't planned)
It all began earlier this evening, around 22:00, when some people I know might have liked to be sleeping. I, on the other hand, was finishing an essay, when I heard an aggressive knock at the door.
It was Paranoid Hyperboloid. And he was trying to kill me.
The Hyperboloid was armed with multiple weapons, which I glimpsed through the peephole, and he was knocking aggressively, claiming to have cookies that he would give me if I would let him kill me. Alas, the cookies were never revealed. But the weapons were…
In a confusing turn of events, the Hyperboloid revealed that he had actually been killed this morning. But why would a corpse want to kill me? It was all too spooky to face. [Umpire's Note - Claiming to be dead is not allowed, even for police. I hope that wasn't what happened here. Vote Quimby.]
After a little while, it became clear to the Hyperboloid that this Poison pi really was far too busy baking up an essay. I said to death ‘not today', and Paranoid Hyperboloid slowly went away.
Fearing for my life, I panicked and went to pick up a dead assassin's gun, since my home-baked weapons didn't quite feel like adequate self-defence (hence my incompetence, which I prefer to term ‘being still-in-training'). The dead assassin in question (shout out to Plain, simple Garak, RIP) meanwhile advised me that I was within my rights to defend myself if need be, since we discovered that the sneaky and twisty old Hyperboloid had actually become a policeman!
After picking up the gun, I made way on my path home (which is only over the road, so to speak). But on my path, I saw him (Paranoid Hyperboloid). Out of pure, lava hot fear, and assuming that he was about to kill me (since the last time I saw him he was outside my door), I shot him. Everything shattered and I started to forget even my own identity (‘what is pi?'). [Umpire's Note – It's about 5; come at me internet. Vote Quimby.]
[Other Umpire's Note: I'm resisting the urge to correct that. Vote Innes Competent for the CORRECT value of pi to at least 10 d.p.]
And then, what hung over me felt like a mass of pastry, but really it was just confusion. Out of self-defence, I shot a policeman.
I shall remember him next time I twist around and look over my shoulder with paranoia, which I will be doing a lot until you can guide me, O great Umpire, on what a poor, confused, once-incompetent-but-really-just-‘careful' assassin is to do. Please help. Please have mercy on me. I promise I was planning to reverse my incompetency from tomorrow, I just needed to get a new weapon for my arsenal.
Until then I shall be singing that old rhyme:
Sing a song of sixpence,
Or sevenpence, or pi,
Just make sure it's a good one,
Just in case you die.
:o
Boing, Boing, Boing!
Boing, Boing, Boing!
*thunk*
*thunk*
Got up far too early to kill Robert the Construction Consultant. No such luck.
Bother again.
Pika... *tilts head*
Pikachu runs towards Mooman with a flan present in its mouth
*trips*
KAAAAAA!!!!
The flan that hit Mooman in the face was fatal
The wait had been long. Finally the door opened and I swiftly entered the Christoon building. I waited a little and looked around. And there, I saw him, Super-Nintendo Chalmers. Pretending not to recognize him, I walked forward, while secretly reaching for my knife and turning around, to stab him hard in the back. He looked to me, surprised, but his heart had already stopped.
Howdy.
I made a kill. Just now. Now I might go make a pie. Now am I free to go back to training in secret? :)
I suppose you may, but remember, secret training bases are always infiltrated by the enemy, having a clearly obvious base is so so much more fun.
And of course, always advertise how you kill, to strike fear into the hearts of your enemy.
Sorry for lack of deets. Hands are cold. Just like the soul of my last (and first, real) victim.
I killed him with a sword. Because my gun wouldn't fire. Oops. :)
Ho there Citi… Oh, [REDACTED] it.
That [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] Wabbit!
Can't even [REDACTED] [REDACTED] when [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]!?
A [REDACTED] Toon!? More like a [REDACTED] [REDACTED].
Soon Citizen. Soon [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED].
Dear Mister Wedactor. I tiwe of your wudeness. Be warned that wabbits have wewy, wewy pointy teeth.
Yours sincerely - a Wabbit.
[WEDACTED]!
Things stayed busy; my contacts kept me posted on the funny business, best as they could. Eventually, someone pointed me at a toon from out of town – nothing hard and fast, just that he'd been laying awful low for a while now, might have something to hide. My leads were going well enough, but this was a good one. Guy didn't know I'd be tryna pay him a visit, of course, but I ain't a PI for nothing. I knew where and when to find him.
I been getting awful paranoid lately. Things ain't right in Toon Town, and a guy could be putting himself in danger any time he steps outta the house, ya know? So I guess that's why I did it. Even though I hated myself for it. Even though I swore I'd never. Even though I told myself I didn't wanna, I took the Dip gun with me.
Yeah, look where all those morals got me. So high and mighty when it first turned up. Well, sue me. Some psycho starts turning Toon Town upside down, toons going off the rails even more than usual, and people I work with keep turning up dead. They found The Gentleman, they reckon – or at least, that's what his dentist says. Factory fire. Badly-burned body. Who knew if it was him. Guy has any sense, he skipped town and left behind some sucker in a building he could afford to lose, and a very wealthy dentist. But even if he didn't croak himself, he wanted to make somebody think he had, and he wanted it bad enough to torch his own assets. So yeah, I got worried. And I figured, if it was what kept me alive the next time some toon cracked, so be it, ya know?
Course, looking back, I guess I was playing right into people's hands. But ain't that hindsight.
I found the fella I was chasing down eventually. Smart one, too. Always in a crowd, never anywhere a guy'd want to make a scene. Managed to pin him down long enough to get some intel, but I could tell he wasn't saying what he really knew. Big hitters kept dying, and now here I came asking questions. Whatever he was mixed up in, it was enough to keep him on edge.
He gave me the slip before I could figure out anything better, but I figured I'd find the guy again, sooner or later. Whatever he was in would blow up eventually. I still didn't know exactly what was going on in Toon Town, but I knew there wasn't a guy or a toon in the whole God-damn city would be leading a quiet life much longer.
Private Snafu woke up one morning and decided there should be fewer numbers in the world. He duly went to the place where all the numbers lived, and stabbed a nice long sequence that went by 'Fibonacci'.
High on success, he fell victim to the curse of all conquering heroes, and decided to go for more. This time, he thought he'd spice things up by not taking proper precautions.
He knew it was over when the bullet ripped through his shoulder and the mask of male pronouns slipped, revealing her to be a woman. Ah well.
Situation not normal: strangely peaceful.
A girl was waiting at the stairs, she asked if I am 1123581321, then killed me with a knife. I was in a hurry, so didn't ask her name or anything. Also, it was annoying. :)
Ahh a valentine's day gift to make me competent again. A few hints: don't show me your weapon before asking my name, don't forget to draw the gun on your hip to shoot down an escaping target, and more importantly don't try to outrun Dirk Dwyer once he smells blood.
Bringing a knife to a gunfight, bad choice Private Snafu.
I successfully stabbed Harry Pence outside the ACME Tiger Storage and Orphanage at 14:15 today.
I was killed by Undefined Behaviour today
It was valentine's day. The smiles of couples walking in the streets with their elegant high-class discussions... they were sickening. Bayon the Bricklayer was spending valentine's day laying bricks alone, one by one, whilst couples, trapped in their fancy bubbles of idealism, walked past.
As with most aspects in life, the happiness of an individual is relative to that of others. Bayon the Bricklayer was not happy. Every smile that he saw was another stack of sadness accumulated in his feeble state of emotions. But then, in a room of a house that looked slightly too comfortable came a laughter that sounded slightly too joyful. Bayon the Bricklayer was triggered. Bayon the Bricklayer pulled out his knife and walked over to the house and knocked on the door.
"Who is this?" Asked the slightly too happy voice. "Oh, am I being delivered a valentine's gift?"
The happy soul opened the door, and looked outside. Indeed, there was a valentine's present, gripped firmly in Bayon the Bricklayer's hand, about to be delivered.
"Maintenance" muttered Bayon the Bricklayer, and the details afterwards shall not be discussed. But when Bayon the Bricklayer left the house, the air seemed that tiny bit more breathable.
It was this day last week that Private Snafu and I went hunting for, what neither of us could have expected, would be the last time. It's so easy to think of yourself and your friends as untouchable. Everyone helps each other out, succeeds, and you think things will never have to end. Then someone dies and suddenly shit gets very real.
I was lucky enough to be aware of Dirk Dwyer's alias, and conveniently I had just been given him as a target. Vengeance would be swift and sweet indeed. Having recently befriended Poison Pi, I asked her to show me to his accommodation, which she did. She guided me to his floor, and luckily his door was right in front of us, and beside a communal space. As we made to enter said space, his door opened, what impeccable timing! Entering his college through the wrong gate and trying to find Poison Pi for a good five minutes was a blessing in disguise.
[Umpire's Note: But it's right there, between Poison 3 and Poison 3.2?]
He looked slightly different to the photo I had, and was talking to some friends, but Poison Pi ensured me that this was him. I readied my fiery blue breath and called out a simple greeting to get the friends' attention. Dirk Dwyer's eyes widened and he made to flee, but he was far too close, and I was far too prepared, for him to escape. I unleashed my full fury onto him and his body burned to a crisp.
They say vengeance is a dish best served cold, but after looking at the smoking remains of Dirk Dwyer, I have to disagree. It is best served hot, as hot as it can be.
A day or so later, and I figured I'd pay my guy another visit. He couldn't keep quiet forever, and once you get ‘em talking, most guys don't wanna stop. Problem was, I didn't know where I was looking. I knew the guy had to get from one place to another, and it didn't seem like it'd be hard to waylay him en route. Problem was, there was an awful lotta ways of getting from A to B, and I may be a Private Eye, but I only got the two of ‘em.
In the end, I found what seemed like a decent choke-point. Guy'd have to pass me by one way or the other, unless he wanted to take some extra-special route. I knew it was just gonna be a case of biding my time, and whether he tried to talk or tried to run, I'd be ready.
But then, I guess I misjudged the guy. Cautious, and all that. Either he took that extra-special route, or he skipped out altogether, because I never saw no sign of him. Damn. And me freezing my ass off out here too. So I ankled. Least I knew I could spin some sob story outta the whole thing and get another hot whiskey off the right bartender, and I wouldn'ta done the whole thing for nothing. But damn, this guy had better turn up some leads, and quick.
In the ACME Trough Eat-a-perience, at around 6:15 pm, I spotted Max, my target (and an incompetent to boot). I calmly finished my underwhelming pork chop, deposited my tray, approached my target, and stuck a shiv in his gut. Brief pleasantries were exchanged, before I left him to finish his meal in peace; that he might sate his hunger, though my bloodlust charges onward.
Chu... zzz
So, I figured that I should put my trusty sword (that also doubles as a spatula, great for making poison pastries) to good use again. And I had my eye on a particular incompetent soul that I had met once before.
I managed to suss out his timetable through a little sleuthing, and went to hunt him out after his early morning lecture. Unfamiliar with my surroundings, I tried slinking myself into the lecture building to figure out if I was in the right place, but found myself in a rather dark and not very spacious waiting area where a bunch of people had already gathered, waiting for the next lecture. After hearing one sole word of spooky subject-related jargon, I shivered my timbers, and fled the scene.
After a seemingly-more-tranquil, open-air hiding spot also become a problem (oh no, not another swarm of lecturees!) I decided to flee the scene entirely, since I had probably already missed my target.
Disappointed, I wandered far, far away and pondered over my plans, when I spotted a friend outside Mainsburys (Now in partnership with ACME). I went over to say hi and stopped for a chat when none other than DisguisedToast himself popped out of the shop. I gave him a friendly smile, and promptly stabbed him with my sword, aiming right for the heart.
The mission was a success after all. -- π
Kitty and Pusheen were unsuccessful in their hunting attempts this week. Kitty blames Pusheen. Pusheen, quite naughtily, blames Kitty. Oh well, Pusheen is deceptively cute - not conveniently responsible.
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