Mafia VII: Shadows of the Mafia [Concluded]

[sapi]

Day breaks in the Frontroom. All is quiet. This was no longer due to the fact that the villagers were staying in their homes; this was simply due to the fact that there was now a lack of villagers to make noise.

Tran was one of the few villagers left. He woke up, opened his windowshade, and groaned. It was a beautiful September day, perfect for tending to his garden. Obviously going outside was a serious risk but he figured that judging by the mafia's effiency so far that it wouldn't matter. Besides, the weather was just too nice to pass up.

After about thirty minutes or so of working he began to relax, something he hadn't been able to do in several days. His garden, the plants, the medicinal herbs he was growing, they all calmed him. He was glad of this. He gradually became more engrossed in his garden and the beauty of the day rather than staying on the alert for, say, potential intruders.

Mr. A.F.I.A. observed this entire process from afar, carefully watching Tran's facial expressions. The speed and the jerkiness in which he moved would tell him a lot. Finally, whem his prey exhibited no noticeable signs of paranoia, he took that as a ready sign. He moved in.

It was a quick job. He entered Tran's property, disabled the home security system (he had read up on it the previous night) and made his way to the backyard and the garden.

Tran didn't even notice. Silently grinning, the mafioso levelled his shotgun and blasted Tran in the back. This was getting easier every day. Well, aside from the pie thing, anyway.

He searched the garden, job clearly not finished yet. Finding what he was looking for, he grabbed several of the medicinal herbs being grown, stuffed them into a bag, and departed. Clockwork.

Later that day, Mr. Arlen Frederick Ivanovich Ace was back at the grave of Sigurd Fafnesbane, this time picking a rose that a townie had conveniently left there after the killings yesterday. He stared at it, amazed at the foolishness of it all. The town was supposed to mourn after the bloodbath was done.

And he was pretty certain that he wasn't done yet.

He headed into another familiar location, the bar which proved to be a favorite poisoning spot. Only one patron was present, the barman evidently having fled town or not bothered to come in today. sapi, clothed in his usual black, stared as he saw the new customer for a second, and then resumed drinking his Appletini in a "very manly way."

The mafioso sat down and paused for a minute. Finally, with sapi trying to look conspicuous with his Appletini, he spoke up. "Where's the barman?"

"Dunno," said sapi. "Guess it doesn't matter, anyways. The mafia seem to be using a shotgun now, maybe they're out of poison."

"Mmm." Mr. Arlen Frederick Ivanovich Ace nodded politely. "So, I guess you're the bartender now? I don't know how to work any of this fancy machinery, and you're sitting there with a nice Appletini."

"It's easy to learn," said sapi, grimacing slightly. He got up and walked behind the bar. "Here, I can show you, and then we can each make as many drinks as we want and drown our sorrows in alcohol. Name your poison."

"How ironic," the mafioso thought silently. "Beer me," he said out loud. sapi nodded and turned around, adjusting the taps. The mafioso quickly spit into sapi's Appletini. "Out of poison?" he said. "I *am* the poison, buddy."

"What was that?"

"Oh," said the mafioso, fumbling, "I said I'll probably drink this place dry by tonight. C'mon, hurry up and drink it dry with me."

"Sounds good to me," sapi said, topping off the mafioso's mug. They chinked their glasses together and each drank. In a matter of seconds sapi was down on the floor, writhing. In another matter of seconds he was motionless.

"Well, that was easy," he said. "I'm lucky it didn't do that to me that quickly." He took out a knife and cut out a patch from sapi's black robes. He was just about to exit the bar when he felt a sharp stab of pain spread throughout his entire body. Everything went black.

Later that day, Chief of Police gathered all of the remaining villagers into the town square in order to make an announcement.

"Gentlemen," he began, "...yeah. I'm tired of repeating myself. You all know why we're here, so let's get to it, shall we?"

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

Still alive: (14)
woad&fangs
Ichigo
RoadKill
Brave_Sir_Robin
shlin28
Stig
Proletariat
Crazed Rabbit
Kommodus
Tiberius of the Drake
Pannonian
discovery1
CountArach
Kagemusha

Suicide/Wrath of God:
Ignoramus
FesterShinetop
Fragony
Don Corleone
Pra Tha Funkee Homo Sapien

Killed:
pevergreen
Sigurd Fafnesbane
Caius Flaminius
Killfr3nzy
Sasaki Kojiro
Byzantine Mercenary
Warmaster Horus
Xdeathfire
Destroyer of Hope
Twilightblade
Dutch_guy
greaterkhaan
Tran
sapi

Executed:
Sarathos
Husar
Beefy187
Andres
Lemur
Xiahou

...bugger

Ah, well, at least a little can be read into those kill descriptions, as with the lynches.

Anyway, Kommo has long since convinced me of his innocence; so I'd like to see what Holmes says about the players who are still alive, but that he has not yet analysed.