Capo di Tutti Capi IV [Concluded]

[Askthepizzaguy]

I hope they come for you Cunio...

Who or what are the Cunio?

I'm sorry Sigurd, but the number you have dialed has been disconnected.

[Sigurd]

Who or what are the Cunio?

I'm sorry Sigurd, but the number you have dialed has been disconnected.

I guess you are siding with them, then... good to know.

My suggestion would be that the mafia terminate their cooperation, now. Too much info is being thrown around.
How did I, a mere wiseguy able to identify the real Cunio? As this info didn't come to me via game mechanics, I can indulge anyone wanting to know.

Oh yeah... gnarlycharlie and sprig were Cunio. Likewise Autolycus, Krill and Neri. And some say that you ATPG has joined their ranks as well.

I would suggest that the mafia end shoot-out starts with destroying the Cunio and removing ATPG.

[seireikhaan]

"Wanderers cling to their fading home
A lost train whistle wan and muffled
In the loft night taste of water
Morning light on milky flesh
Turgid itch ghost hand
Sad as the death of monkeys
Thy father a falling star
Crystal bone into thin air
Night sky
Dispersal and emptiness."
...Fear and the Monkey
...William S. Burroughs

Night Seventeen-- The Streets of Fatlington


The Last Days was sitting at a pub, drowning his sorrows under a heavy pint. He sat at the bar, his head buried into the wood. He leaned back, and grazed someone passing by. The man immediately turned and exploded in a fit of rage as to how TLD would dare to shove him. TLD tried to explain, but the man simply didn’t wish to listen. Finally, the belligerent threw a haymaker that connected with TLD and knocked him to the ground, stunned. The bar keep had noticed the ruckus, by now, and a small platoon of bouncers drove the troublemaker out.


But for some, the night was young. Seon had decided the bar scene wasn’t really for him, tonight. He wandered the streets, still buzzed a bit. He came up to a phone booth, and leaned against it, wondering where to go. A man in a sharp suit walked up. “Hey, bud, don’t suppose I can use the phone?” Seon simply shuffled to the side, and let the man through. Seon just sat at the corner, stumped for nearly ten minutes. Finally, a decision came for him. A second man came up from behind Seon. “Hey, bud, don’t suppose I can use the phone?”

“Oh, no, someone else is using it at the moment. “ It was at that point that he felt a gun barrel nudge him from behind. Seon raised his hands slowly. A shot rang out in the night. The gun quickly withdrew from Seon’s back, as the man quickly turned tail. The man in the phone booth had a pistol in hand. It seemed a simple warning shot was all it had taken to scare the rat off. Perhaps it was time to call it a night....


Winston Hughes’ long night just kept getting longer. His vehicle’s engine practically exploded when he’d tried to start it up to leave the center. When he left the center on foot, stumbled crossing the street and nearly was run over by another citizen leaving. He was starting to think someone might actually be out to get him. So, he was picking his pace up, trying to get home, just in case his paranoia was correct. He could see the side street his house would be on just down the block. He was so close.

But, in Fatlington, close doesn’t cut it. When he turned down his side street, he saw a man standing in front of his house, wearing a dark suit and fedora, calmly finishing a cigar. The man crouched down, and extinguished it on the pavement. “I see you managed to make it home,” he said. “Pretty lucky, ya know. I was sure that that the explosives in your car would do the trick. Oh well…” he sighed. “Looks like I gotta do this the old fashioned way." He cracked his neck, and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small Ruger pistol. Winston immediately turned heel, but the man was far too quick. A shot connected with the back of Winston’s knee, sending him to the pavement. The man strolled up leisurely. He pulled another cigar from his coat, giving it a light. “No offense, bud. Business, ya know? Sometimes, people just gotta die. You know what I mean.” He aimed the handgun to the back of Winston’s head, and cut the long night just a bit shorter.


Clitsome’s home was, as a real estate agent might say, “modest”. The three room commode was not by any means luxurious, but it was at least a structure with a roof and sturdy walls. Well, fairly sturdy, anyways. He was resting in the kitchen, enjoying a coffee, when a knock was heard on his door. He picked up a handgun laying on his table, and cautiously approached. Strangers ceased to be a good thing in Fatlington a long time ago. A second round of knocking came. He approached the door, and placed his hand on the knob. He twisted it slowly.

BOOM!

A shotgun blast from the other side turned the door into shrapnel. Clitsome staggered back, and fell on his rear. He tried to scramble backwards, but the man in the doorway was having none of it. He leaped into the doorway, followed by a second, and found nothing but the maimed Clitsome before him, in this small shack, panic and fear on his face. The gunmen smirked, then fired another round of lead into Clitsome’s chest. Giving the thumbs up, the two departed into the night.


Fyremarble was driving her gleaming, black Bentley Mark VI Coupe De Ville away from the convention center. The car handled like none other she’d had, and it held a certain class she admired. But, for the time being, her attention was more on getting to a safe spot for the night than admiring her automobile. Which was really for the better, as it turned out. Her drive home was soon interrupted when a vehicle emerged from a side street behind her. A man emerged from the passenger window, with a tommy gun held aloft. Fyremarble cursed, instinctively swerving around a corner in time to avoid a hail of bullets. But it seemed she was not in luck. Her new road stretched onwards to the beach. There were no side streets. No alleys. She pulled a u turn upon her dire realization, only to be faced with her pursuers, who screeched to a halt about twenty feet in front of her.

Fyremarble gripped the wheel with iron knuckles. She gunned the pedal as best she could, and her Mark Vi responded with a gallant thrust forward. The passenger, still with his torso out the window, gave a hail of bullets in return. Most ricocheted off miraculously, or passed by her through the windshield. With a rand roar, the Bentley blew past the stationary car. But it was impossible for Fyremarble to have seen the duo up in the shadows, lurking on the sidewalk. Each pulled an ordinary colt revolver, and with the aim of marksmen, delivered shots to each of Fyremarble’s left tires. The vehicle immediately spun, and Fyremarble had to hit the brakes to keep it under control. She looked into the rear-view mirror, and saw the other vehicle pulling up behind her. To her left, she could now see the two gunners cautiously approach. With a sigh, she surveyed her prize car one last time. “Well… it was fun while it lasted, I guess.” She took one last deep breath before emerging from the car. She stood tall, looking at the two gunners standing about ten feet before her, their colts still drawn. The other vehicle’s two occupants had likewise joined the street, one with the tommy gun, the other with a Beretta. For twenty seconds, an eerie silence oppressed the street. With a short sigh, one of the colt gunners raised the weapon properly, and aimed for Fyremarble’s forehead. With a flash, Fyremarble pulled her own Makarov, finger squeezing, ready to end the unwary gunner. A single gunshot rang out.

Fyremarble staggered for a second, holding a hand to her bleeding chest. The driver from the vehicle had pre-empted her counterstrike, and delivered a Beretta round before she could strike. Fyremarble staggered to her knees. The man with the colt simply chuckled. “Not bad… not bad.” He raised his weapon, and delivered the final shot to Fyremarble’s forehead. He nodded to the driver. “S’pose I should give you my thanks. Do what you want with her, we’re out.” The driver simply offered a curt nod, and walked up to the body. A small photograph of a pristine Alaskan mountain was tucked into the coat, with the words “Seward’s Folly” scribbled across the bottom.


Gibsons had wandered back to the beach. Sea breeze was quite soothing at night. Walking up to the edge of the water and getting the cool mist was one of the few things that could still be enjoyed in Fatlington. He simply sat himself down, and rested his elbows on his knees. He peered to his right, and he noticed for the first time that a deep pit had been dug about thirty feet away. It seemed that a small sand fort had been constructed at some point recently. How strange…. Shaking off a feeling of paranoia, Gibsons simply turned his attention the other direction. Nobody on the beaches at all… almost kind of sad. As he scanned for any others who might have joined him, he saw another pit about an equal distance away on his left. Now this was strange. Nobody had been here in days. The tide should have ruined such magnificent sand structures.

Perhaps it was time to leave. Gibsons hauled himself up. He dusted the sand off, and began to trudge back through the sand. In his peripheral vision, he saw something move to his right. His head swiveled, and he saw a man in an oddly dressy crimson suit standing from the sand fort, as well as another man in a much plainer, dark suit. The two raised automatic weapons and let loose a hail of bullets. Gibsons immediately hit the ground, and was lucky enough to find just the smallest of cover behind a tiny dune. The bullets kicked up a storm of sand, but for the moment, Gibsons was safe. But then, in his peripheral vision, he saw another blur of motion. Two others had emerged from the other sand fort, weapons raised. Gibsons eyes widened. He was pinned. The two raised tommie guns, and, with nowhere to run, Gibsons finally met his demise. Each pair trudged up from their respective sand forts, dusting off the sand from their unnecessarily dressy attire. “Well, that was fun,” the man in the crimson suit said, nodding to the other two. He looked back to his fort with a bit of longing. “Hopefully it can hold up for a few days. I’d love to be able to make a return visit.” The other two just rolled their eyes. “Well, either way. Best of luck to ya.” The two pairs each departed back for the concrete jungle in separate directions.


9:07 AM, Monday, 14th November 1951
The Executive Meeting Room (Small Ballroom)
Fatlington Convention Center
Fatlington, New Jersey


"Well that about wraps it up," Fermanagh said, finishing up the day's briefings, "And now to the postmortem reports, as usual."

"Your first choice for lynch, Sturmhauke, was one of the few remaining decent people in this town. The other, The Stranger, was an odd individual. Seems like he was trying to organize his own detective ring, but we can't really tell what angle he was getting at, exactly. Thankfully, there weren't any other deaths that night, so any remaining townspeople are at least a bit safe. But enough of me. You've got more people to slay, don't you?" The Commissioner grabbed the bottle of whiskey from under the table, and handed Director Askthepizzaguy the gavel before heading off to drink himself under the table.


OOC

Day Eighteen begins. You are voting to lynch.

Phase ends:

I'll try to get scan results and promotions out asap. Others may wait until morning. Feel free to PM me if you think we missed something.

Remember, night actions alone will not be enough to save you from the WOG.

Attacked = 62: Askthepizzaguy (n1, n2, n4, n5, n8), Raskolnikov (n1), Slash and earn (n1, n6), slysnake (n1, n3), Earthling (n1), a completely inoffensive name (n2), Master Necromanver (n2), Cahoma (n2), El Barto (n2), Montmorency (n2, n4), Chaotix (n2, n3, n11, n12), taillesskangaru (n3), Secura (n3), Ameranth (n3), Craterus (n3), Cecil XIX (n3, n6), johnhughthom (n4), Ishmael (n4), Drunk Clown (n4, n5), Psychonaut (n5), Suburban Plankton (n4), Sasaki Kojiro (n4), scottishranger (n4, n10), edse (n5), Erebus (n5, n6, n15), Diana Abnoba (n6, n10), J.D. (n6), Zack (n6), Camikaze (n7), Hero di Classico (n7), Diamondeye (n7, n9), guiri (n8), Khazaar (n8, n9, n11), Riedquat (n8), robbiecon (n8), Scienter (n8 x2), sturmhauke (n8), Jarema (n9), Oh! TheLastDays! (n10, n17), qlyphz (n10, n12), Psychonaut (n11), Crazed Rabbit (n12), Erebus (n12), BillMC (n12), Secura (n13), Beefy (n13), white eyes (n13), B_Ray (n14), Renata (n14, n15), Tiaexz (n14), Kennigit (n15), gibsons (n15), Believer (n16), Death is Yonder (n16), shlin28 (n16), Seon (n17)

Wounded = 21: Slysnake (n1, n3), Lord Brennus (n3), Tratorix (n4), edse (n5), Erebus (n6), Psychonaut (n6), Choxorn (n7), dcmort93 (n7), Zack (n7), guiri (n8), Monk (n8), Sasaki (n9), Lewwyn (N11), Neri (N11), Scottishranger (n13), Sturmhauke (n13), BillMC (n14), The Stranger (n14), Winston Hughes (n14)

Killed = 64: Captain Black Adder [townie] (n1), Pharoah [townie] (n2), Moros [luca] (n2), ELITEWARMAN8GINGYBREADMENMILK [townie] (n2), TinCow [detective] (n3), Xenoneb [townie] (n3), El Barto [detective] (n3), Arjos [FBI chief] (n3), Ameranth [wiseguy] (n4), Lord Winter [wiseguy] (n4), Suburban Plankton [detective] (n5), slysnake [townie] (n5), Lord Brennus [townie] (n5), Bow-wow-wow [townie] (n5), ByzantineKnight [townie] (n6), Kagemusha [serial killer] (n6), Tratorix [FBI] (n6), Raskolnikov [wiseguy] (n6), Nictel [wiseguy] (n6), J.D. [wiseguy] (n6), Visorslash [communist leader] (n7), Cecil XIX [townie] (n7), Drunk Clown [luca] (n7), Johnhughthom [wiseguy] (n7), Jolt [Made] (n7), Romanic [wiseguy] (n7), fubbleskag [doctor] (n8), Ibn-Khaldun [townie] (n8), Memnon [townie] (n8), robbiecon [townie] (n8), Andres [Special Agent] (n8), Camikaze [Made] (n8), Frozen in Ice [wiseguy] (n8), woad&fangs [townie] (n9), Zack [townie] (n9), Zim [Luca] (n9), Choxorn [townie] (n9), dcmort93 [townie] (n9), Diamondeye [wiseguy] (n10),
AggonyKing [townie] (n10), God Emperor [made] (n10), Skotsko [made] (n10), slash and earn [townie] (n10), thefluffyone93 [rogue detective] (n10), Craterus [townie] (n11), Peasant Phill [Don] (n11), Sasaki [Don] (n11), ULC [townie] (n11), Khazaar [townie] (n12), Johhog [Wiseguy] (n12), qlyphz [townie] (n12), Lewwyn [made] (n13), Monk [townie] (n13), Yaropolk [townie] (n13), Cahoma [Luca] (n14), guiri [townie] (n14), Psychonaut [detective] (n14), Scienter [Made] (n14), B_Ray (n16), gnarlycharlie (n16), Sigurd (n16), Sprig (n16), Clitsome (n17), fyremarble (n17), gibsonsg91921 (n17), Winston Hughes (n17)


Lynched = 16: Earthling [townie] (d2), a completely inoffensive name [townie] (d3), Subotan [wiseguy] (d3), Major Robert Dump [wiseguy] (d4), Ishmael [communist] (d5), Montmorency [wiseguy] (d6), landlubber [Made] (d8), Captain Blackadder [townie] (d9), Riedquat [townie] (d10), Edse [surgeon] (d11), Populus Romanus [surgeon] (d12), Crazed Rabbit [made] (d13), Sturmhauke (d15), The Stranger (d15), BillMC (d16)

Wogged = 5: bestrfcplayer (n6), cpdwane [townie] (n4), Master Necromanver [Don] (n4), taillesskangaru [townie] (n4), Silver Jan (d16)

Added: Autolycus (d4)

Active:

Askthepizzaguy, Autolycus, Backwards Logic, Beefy187, Believer, Beskar, BSmith, Chaotix, DaveShack, Death is yonder, Diana Abnoba, Double A, Erebus, GamezRule, hero di classic, Ironside, Jarema, kennigit, Krill, LazyMcCrow, Neri, Nightbringer, Niklas, O!TheLastDays!, Renata, scottishranger, Secura, Seon, shlin28, SisterCoyote, White_eyes:D, Xehh II

[Sigurd]

...

The commies lost one, Stracchi lost one and Corleone lost two.
I am disappointed.

[Askthepizzaguy]

I would suggest that the mafia end shoot-out starts with destroying the Cunio and removing ATPG.

Too slow, my Viking friend. The Cunio are obsolete. And Sprig was as Cunio as Crazed Rabbit was Stracchi... you see, very little is kept secret in this town. When someone goes around telling others that they wish to form a new order, that information doesn't remain static. Further, when the source of that insurrection has already begun to betray their would-be conspirators by giving away key strategic details to their enemies, or has already begun directing attacks at them, or has told others something completely contrary to the alliance storyline they were selling, the contradiction proves that they are a threat.

Sprig for example, was simultaneously promising the destruction of the Stracchi to others as he was promising the destruction of the Corleone to the Stracchi. Crazed Rabbit was likely working with the Pentangeli while claiming to be Stracchi; certain information leaks could only have come from him. Sasaki Kojiro and Scottishranger were Corleone in name only, as they broke away and forged a new family of their own, betraying their former allies in the process. Generalhankerchief himself claimed that he would go mafia, and one of his first acts with the confidential information he gained was to use it to try to drive a wedge between the families. Now, my old master, what do I find but the Master Berserker himself not heeding the warnings I gave regarding joining third party factions? You were wiseguy in name only, where did your true allegiances lie? Because they also were not with the Corleone either.


Now I see that in spite of my best efforts I am unable to keep everyone that I wish to alive and well. The attack on Winston Hughes could only have come from Scottishranger, Ironside, or Secura; because the serial killer used a knife. Furthermore, I can narrow down which one it is, because Ironside's weapon has been seen before. He's got the golden lugers. Which means he could not have been responsible. That leaves either Secura, who *should* have been scanning for the remaining serial killer, if he even exists, or Scottishranger. There are no other rogue detectives in existence and no one else can do a solo kill. Let me see if Scotty has done any other solo kills, and see if I can determine which weapon he has. I would bet you a stack of Pizzas that Secura didn't do this, because she's trying to find the SK and if she had found him, she'd have killed him WITH Ironside's help. That was always the goal of the rogue detectives.

That leaves basically one suspect: the Pentangeli Don.


Unless this is a very, very bad case of mistaken identity, I conclude that Scottishranger is indeed the last of the snakes that have been biting us in the heel, and the time has come to crush him in the head.



Bring me Scottishranger. I want him dead, now.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Wait a minute now. Only one attacker on Seon, one attacker on Winston, that leaves margin for error.

The Corleone wiseguys can answer this one; did *any* of you end up following through with the suggestion to hit Seon? If that's the case, then you're visible in the writeup attacking Seon, which was supposed to be Scottishranger's attack. He was of course protected, as I warned.

So, if that's a wiseguy trying to hit Seon, that means Scotty was busy with Winston. However, if there were no wiseguys involved in the hit on Seon, then that means Scotty did his job and that leaves Secura as the culprit.

I highly doubt that theory but until I hear back from the Corleone it is still possible.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Mmm. No signature weapon on the Seon hit either. Scotty was not present there, or we'd have seen something more worthy of a Don-inspired hit there, a gun we could identify.

Obviously Scottishranger went astray. Not content to do hits for the rest of the Family, master Don; not content with the thrill of the hunt and the kill, you decided that instead of attacking townies like a good little gangster, you'd hit your former allies in the Corleone one last time? You could have found new Mades to join you, instead you decided you'd kill them. I can see that the former Capo must have lost his edge somewhere between his previous reign and now. Did you know that there were people still willing to join you?

I'm going to make sure your death is particularly nasty. No one goes against the Family and survives.


Further, I've just been informed that Secura's weapon is a .44 Magnum. Scotty's also been scanned as innocent [Don] by Ironside.

That's check and mate, Pentangelino.

Any last words?

[Montmorency]

Your hubris has brought you down, Pizza.

Your new family will never stand up against the firepower of three or four combined.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Your hubris has brought you down, Pizza.

Your new family will never stand up against the firepower of three or four combined.

The new family *is* three or four combined. We have Stracchi, Corleone, Cunio, and Tataglia. Just as it always has been.

The only thing that has transpired outside of the plan is that Don Quixote over there decided to go tilting at windmills. The former Capo has turned into a Knight-errant trying to slay an imaginary giant with four limbs. The difference here is that the giant is real and is going to eat him alive.

[Sigurd]

Now, my old master, what do I find but the Master Berserker himself not heeding the warnings I gave regarding joining third party factions? You were wiseguy in name only, where did your true allegiances lie? Because they also were not with the Corleone either.

I did as you suggested, but if someone is persistent enough, choice is removed from the equation.
Which begs the question... who informed ATPG?

[Askthepizzaguy]

Which begs the question... who informed ATPG?

If you tell anyone anything in this game, chances are, I've heard about it.

[Sigurd]

If you tell anyone anything in this game, chances are, I've heard about it.

That's the thing... I didn't.
Which means it must have come from some of the other members of "the clan". There is a paper trail there, and it aint long.

[Visor]

Scans, Sigurd.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Sorry to hear you didn't have any choice in the matter; I rather liked the idea of you flouting my suggestion and doing whatever you wanted.

Reminded me of a rather brave turncoat who went communist in Capo III. He uh... also died. But bravery! What bravery.

[Believer]

Vote: ATPG

Like I haven't said it before.

[TheLastDays]

vote: Secura and who the hell knocked me out on my drinking evening?

[sturmhauke]

How did I, a mere wiseguy able to identify the real Cunio?

What, you mean like discovering I was Don Cunnio? Oh wait...

"Your first choice for lynch, Sturmhauke, was one of the few remaining decent people in this town.

Here, let me make that a little easier for you to read:

"Your first choice for lynch, Sturmhauke, was one of the few remaining decent people in this town.

Whose side are you really on anyway? Or are you a serial killer?

[Seon]

Vote: Scottishranger

[autolycus]

vote:scottishranger

[Krill]

vote:scottishranger

[Backwards Logic]

vote: Scottishranger

[gibsonsg91921]

why would anyone want to kill a harmless townie?

[Neri]

Vote: scottishranger. It's a pretty convincing case.

[Chaotix]

Vote: scottishranger

I'm afraid it's the end of the line for you.

[Subotan]

The other, The Stranger, was an odd individual.

There we go, I'm vindicated. I may be dead, and my faction upon death is guaranteed to lose, but I was right and that's what matters.

[Montmorency]

You've done well, Pizza, but you're no Anasûrimbor .

[Montmorency]

Worff

[Diana Abnoba]

Vote: scottishranger

[scottishranger]

I realize defending myself basically confirms my scumminess, but really pizza? I didnt even send in orders last night because I didnt know what to do. Hell I dont even know if I am alone in my family or that I can make a solo kill.

And btw, your scans are useless. I already admitted I am a Don publically, but I guess that was missed.

And I would never ever betray the Corleones. i love them all to much. I know that I betrayed you guys, but I honestly did it because I thought it would give us the best chance to win the game. You guys all knew my plan, I wasnt exactly subtle in who I told.

Vote: scottishranger. It's a pretty convincing case.

Honestly Pizza spins a great story, Iv always agreed that he is a master storyteller. But it is completely made up. Hes a great guy but I dont really know what his angle is trying to lynch me.

Obviously Scottishranger went astray. Not content to do hits for the rest of the Family, master Don; not content with the thrill of the hunt and the kill, you decided that instead of attacking townies like a good little gangster, you'd hit your former allies in the Corleone one last time? You could have found new Mades to join you, instead you decided you'd kill them. I can see that the former Capo must have lost his edge somewhere between his previous reign and now. Did you know that there were people still willing to join you?

See why would I go killing Winston? hes worked with me before. If I wanted to hit anybody, I would go after the Stracchis or even you. You guys are the ones who are fighting the Corleones and destroyed the Pentangeli.

Anyone who knows how I play the game knows that I do not make random kills. I always have a plan. Where would I be going by killing Winston? It doesnt make any sense.

[sturmhauke]

Forget it scott, it's Pizzatown. There aren't enough people left who want to figure things out themselves, and even when there were they were all suspicious of each other (which is a large part of why I'm dead). Easier just to let Pizza pull the strings.