Mafia IX: Triumph of the Mafia [Concluded]

[Thermal]

No, I made a rather pointed comment at you, though.

It doesn't quite qualify as OMGUS voting then, IMO.

[Askthepizzaguy]

shlin28: 3 (ATPG, Blackadder, shlin)

I'm glad I was in bed for this one. Seeing this makes me want to go back to bed.

[Beskar]

Also, I actually voted for Shlin28 anyway, my vote for Renata was illegal as I never unvoted. It was a ploy.

I am guessing GH knew that, hence the star next to the vote.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Yes, I meant to add an explanation to that in the post but evidently I forgot. In any case, since I'm lenient with my vote-tallying, I allowed your vote for Renata to stand because it wasn't endgame and it didn't affect the final results. However, this won't always be the case.

[Askthepizzaguy]

If you only allow votes to stand when they don't affect the tally, then you can be said to be as strict as someone who never allows invalid votes to stand, because the result is the same.




Or is this some kind of anti-Pizzaguy logic puzzle with no solutio-DOES NOT COMPUTE. SELF DESTRUCT IN 5 4 3 2...

[GeneralHankerchief]

Because I choose to.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Ah, but I didn't even ask you why. Why would you answer a question I haven't asked yet?




Wait a minute....

How did you do that?

[GeneralHankerchief]

Because I choose to.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Day breaks in the Frontroom. All is quiet. However, this was not to be the case for very long, as the mafioso once again started the engine of his white van.

*ding dong*

Secura opened the door with a puzzled look on her face. "Yes?" she asked.

"Meals on Wheels," the deliveryman said. "Here's your day's delivery, ma'am." He held out a couple of delicious-smelling prepackaged platters, one of which looked like something Italian inside. The expression he wore was perfectly legitimate, which only served to add to Secura's confusion. After nearly a week of door-to-door killings, he was getting pretty good at this.

"Thanks, but I never signed up for this program. I'm quite capable of fending for myself, food-wise, actually."

Now, of course, the deliveryman launched into his usual routine of there being a clerical mixup, so why not take advantage of the error. "Hmm, there must have been a clerical mixup," he said. "Why not take advantage of the error? I mean, this *is* your address and you *are* Secura, right?" He passed her an official-looking piece of paper.

Secura was wavering. "Well, I mean, it's definitely me, so I don't know how you guys got my name, but I definitely didn't sign up for this... is that Italian?" she said, eying one of the platters.

"Indeed it is," the deliveryman confirmed.

That was enough for Secura. "Well, who am I to pass up a free meal? Come on in, let's eat!" The deliveryman nodded, and, smirking, followed Secura in. "Italian first," she said. "Might as well satisfy my craving for it." She opened the platter to find a glorious heaping of pasta.

"Hmm, seems like everything's in order," she said, taking in the scent of her unexpected meal. "Do I provide my own cheese?"

"Ah, no," the deliveryman said, "my apologies. I forgot to include it earlier. I was in a rush for time, you see, so I just grabbed a block of it and hoofed it out." He stopped talking and set the block of Parmesan on the table.

"Unfortunately, I don't have a grater," said Secura. "Sorry to be such a pest, but do you have one of those as well?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," said the mafioso, whipping out the cheese grater and, before Secura could do anything, knocking her over the head with it. She crumbled to the floor, out cold.

The mafioso paused, unsure of what to do for the first time. He stopped, stared at the grater, stared at Secura, and stared at the grater again. "How in God's name am I supposed to kill anybody with a cheese grater?" he said out loud, and then stared at Secura again. He was truly and totally puzzled about where to go from here.

A couple of minutes passed, and the mafioso stood there, still without any ideas. Having nothing better to do, he sat down and started eating the pasta. It was pretty good, but he wasn't quite in the mood for carbs. It was still too early in the day. Getting up from the table, he walked around the kitchen, stepping around Secura, examining the artwork on her wall. Most of it was standard still lifes, nothing really standing out. There were apples on the windowsill. He started opening the cabinets at random, and then counting the number of seconds that elapsed between the oven clock changing minutes and his watch doing the same.

Finally, some movement. Secura was starting to stir. Panicked, the mafioso let instinct take over and just shoved the cheese grater in her mouth. Reaching into his bag, he grabbed the staple gun he had used before and attached her arms to the floor. "Sorry," he muttered before leaving. "If it's any consolation, I'll use a better weapon tomorrow."

A few lonely townspeople had gathered together in the Frontroom bar to drown their sorrows and talk about the glory days. It was only morning, but a few of them were already long into it. Depression, after all, is a great motivator for certain types of activity.

Aside from the emotional reasons of gathering together in a time of crisis, there was also a logical one: safety in numbers. So far, every single one of the mafioso's attacks had been on an isolated target. If the trend held, then all of the bar patrons would be safe. So there they sat, drinking the day away, knowing that their collective solitude would not be disturbed.

Suddenly, the doors burst open. "OH MY GOD IT'S A MAFIOSO RIDING A MAD COW AND CARRYING AN OLD WEST GUN!!!" the mafioso bellowed, firing said gun into the air a few times for added effect.

Everybody spit out their drink in surprise. More than a few people even soiled themselves in shock and fear. After a second though, everyone started running, bolting in every conceivable direction. The mafioso, though, was too concerned about theatrics for the moment to actually care about catching his prey... yet. He was still adding to the effect.

Finally, once the last few of them drew closer to the bar's exit, the mafioso stopped posturing and begun his chase. "HYAW, BESSIE!" he shouted, turning his cow towards the door. Slapping her side, Bessie began galloping towards the exit, her bell clanging just as the last of the patrons exited the bar. She kicked the door open again, and the mafioso and his, er, steed were out in the open air. He quickly scanned the roads, looking for people. The closest group was headed east, and he thus urged Bessie to go that way.

Bessie mooed.

The group, seeing this, picked up their speed, not wanting to be the mafioso's victim. "Come on!" one of them urged. "We can't let this happen!" But alas, it was not to be. One of the group, Beskar, tripped over a loose piece of gravel and was sent sprawling to the ground. As luck would have it, he landed awkwardly, twisting his ankle. Beskar wasn't doing any more running.

"Come on, people!" he yelled, pleading for help. "Don't leave me here!" The rest of the people in the group, feeling sick to their stomach, had to ignore his pleas for their own safety. It was a riff on the ageless adage: I don't have to outrun the mafioso riding the mad cow, I just have to outrun you.

Beskar felt a rope go around his person. The mafioso, adding insult to injury, had decided to lasso him. "Entirely unnecessary," he said as the mafioso and Bessie trotted by.

"Silence," the mafioso said, dismounting his cow. "Dinner is served, Bessie!" The mad cow mooed appreciatively and opened her maw wide.

Later that day, Chief of Police Lemur gathered everybody in the Frontroom Square in order to make an announcement.

"All right everyone," he said, "There have been two more kills today, both of them pretty weird. I think for everyone's sakes, both for our lives and the fact that we don't want to be subject to the whims of a clearly ridiculous organization, we should persist and kill the mafia quickly. Good luck!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive: (16)
Sasaki Kojiro
Askthepizzaguy
Beefy187
Methos
Kagemusha
Subotan
Captain Blackadder
Joooray
pevergreen
Renata
Thermal Mercury
Ibn-Khaldun
woad&fangs
Psychonaut
TinCow
Reenk Roink

Wrath of God:
Cultured Drizzt fan

Killed:
Crazed Rabbit
Andres
atheotes
Double A
Centurion1
Csargo
Winston Hughes
johnhughthom
spL1tp3r50naL1ty
White_eyes:D
Secura
Beskar

Executed:
Diamondeye
Chaotix
Yaseikhaan
Sigurd
shlin28

[Secura]

Big mistake, mafiosi, big mistake.

At least now that myself and Beskar are dead, we're absolved of culpability and can still assist the town in taking you down.

[White_eyes:D]

I say Pizzaguy.....you?

[Sasaki Kojiro]

I'm rather suspecting kage and pevergreen atm. vote:kage

[Askthepizzaguy]

If Generalhankerchief is writing these, and I think he is, then that makes pever and/or Kage more plausible.

And you can bet your mad-cow-ridden bovine that I'll be bandwagoning once again.

Vote: Kagemusha

[Secura]

I say Pizzaguy.....you?

I don't think myself and Beskar dying in the same night is merely coincidence.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Lynch me. I want to see who would vote for me.

unvote, vote: Askthepizzaguy

[Renata]

Why do you think you both killed, then, Secura?

I'm going back to Ibn again.

vote: Ibn-Khaldun

[TinCow]

Vote: Kagemusha

He has six fingers on his right hand.

[Secura]

Lynch me. I want to see who would vote for me.

unvote, vote: Askthepizzaguy

You misunderstand, I'm not actually accusing you, I was quoting because it seemed as though White_Eyes was explicitly asking for my opinion.

I'm merely saying that I think Beskar and I were killed in the same night wasn't a coincidence but was intended. :3

[Askthepizzaguy]

Fair enough.

I will return to my mindless, blatant bandwagon on Kagemusha, led by my brilliant master Sasaki and his exceedingly handsome henchcow.

unvote, vote: Kagemusha

[Secura]

Why do you think you both killed, then, Secura?

I don't think there was a reason beyond the fact we're town and we need to be killed for mafia victory; I was more angling at the actual identities of people behind said kills.

[Renata]

Right. You were trying to imply something -- what?

[Beskar]

Everyone came up with the imaginary partnership, especially as for whatever reason, probably if I got revealed as a townie when i died, would make Secura look innocence, hence the defending. The reason they killed the both of us is because of that.

[Renata]

OK, that makes some sense.

[pevergreen]

Not seeing how I am guilty looking.

May be because I don't have time to read the kills?

[Joooray]

The way TC behaves just is too convenient to cover up as mafia. And I won't stand for it. So Vote: Tincow.

[Askthepizzaguy]

The way TC behaves just is too convenient to cover up as mafia. And I won't stand for it. So Vote: Tincow.

That bandwagoning making you a little nervous, eh Joooray?

You're on my watchlist, buddy.

[Thermal]

I was going to vote for ATPG or Tincow

To make the vote serious (instead of irrelevant)

vote: tincow

Voting for someone who has voted for themselves is dire at any rate, ATPG can have his glory.

[Askthepizzaguy]

[Thermal]

I do hope it latches on.

[Joooray]

Great, I get accused for jumping on every bandwagon, then I decide to make up my own mind and vote for somebody I find suspicious by own reasoning and again I'm getting accused. No fair.