Mafia IX: Triumph of the Mafia [Concluded]

[Joooray]

Lack of votes? He has most the votes.

Young Padawan, what Master Obi-Wan Pizza was revering to, were votes cast by Master Sigurd himself. Always remember, the Dark Side will grow strong with those who don't vote.

[Thermal]

Young Padawan, what Master Obi-Wan Pizza was revering to, were votes cast by Master Sigurd himself. Always remember, the Dark Side will grow strong with those who don't vote.

Hmm, it can also grow strong if you just bandwagon for no reason at all, which Secura pointed out that you do a lot...

[Joooray]

Hmm, it can also grow strong if you just bandwagon for no reason at all, which Secura pointed out that you do a lot...

As I said to Secura, I find that assertion to be unfair. At least I believe I try to just follow cases that I find justified. Apart from that I find it hard to come up with suspects on my own sometimes and lack of time often also makes me follow people in their votes. I don't think I'm some kind of worst case bandwagon-follower.

[Secura]

I don't think I'm some kind of worst case bandwagon-follower.

You're not the most prolific one I've seen so far, no. :P

[Thermal]

As I said to Secura, I find that assertion to be unfair. At least I believe I try to just follow cases that I find justified.

Is that why in one game (Shadow Fort I think) Centurion votes for someone with no reason whatsoever, then follow in suit saying something to the effort of 'i see where Centurion is coming from'.

[shlin28]

Erm... Vote: Sigurd?

[Sasaki Kojiro]

Erm... Vote: Sigurd?

What contradiction?

[Subotan]

Inky Pinky Ponky, Daddy bought a donkey. Donkey died, daddy cried. Inky Pinky Ponky!

Vote:Sigurd

[GeneralHankerchief]

Voting closed.

Need to take a quick nap, so don't expect the execution for a little bit. I will take orders starting now, however, and the 24-hour clock has started.

[Joooray]

You're not the most prolific one I've seen so far, no. :P

I had to look that word up and still don't know if it was meant as a compliment, but I decided to take it as one anyway.

Is that why in one game (Shadow Fort I think) Centurion votes for someone with no reason whatsoever, then follow in suit saying something to the effort of 'i see where Centurion is coming from'.

That was in Greyblades "Then there were none" and if I had known that it would come back to haunt me like this, I wouldn't have done it. It was a pure joke, I didn't want to completely ignore the game, but I'm sorry to say that I'm not feeling like putting a lot of effort into that game.

[Secura]

I had to look that word up and still don't know if it was meant as a compliment, but I decided to take it as one anyway.

Definitely not an insult, so don't worry JooJoo.

It means that out of all the people I have seen do it, you are not the worst for doing so, basically.

[Sigurd]

I think there is; as soon as Beskar made his accusations of you lurking, you were on him like flies to a heap of manure. This shows that you were paying attention to the thread but not posting, a typical mafioso tactic.

Typical? Not so deary.

I played the lurker Mafioso once. I tend to switch tactics all the time - ya know, to not be spotted by any Holmes' or similar systems.
That I was on the exact time as Beskar was just coincidence. I had just caught up with the game and the last post I read was Beskar's vote. I just jumped in with a "right back at you" vote.
What is scummy is players being creative in accusing other players.
Yeah... Sigurd lurked in Chicago and therefore we need to kill all lurkers. What a bunch of horse manure. The case is so weak that you couldn't skate on it.
This is a game where townies really are the uninformed minority. There are no pro-town roles. Just pure luck will lynch a Mafioso in the early rounds, because you haven't got anything to build a case on.
Using metagaming to form an argument is weak, unless you really have some quantitative historic data to build a profile on. And I doubt any of you have Holmes running.

Why the lurking in the first place? This game isn't going to be won by investigation results, but cold hard analysis of the write-ups and player behaviour. From what I've seen, you're actually a good mafia player, so why be noncommittal in this game when town victory could well hinge on your contributions? It doesn't really make sense, people might as well not sign up if that's the case.

I can't play the verbose character or crazy character in every game. I have to change my style slightly in every game so that when I get to play as Mafia again, I am not easy to read.
I therefore chose not to put up a massive defence in this game because I have done so as Mafioso and townie before. And no I am not Mafia in this game as you will see soon enough.

[White_eyes:D]

That "Total Mafia Victory" well haunt you till your ending mafia days.....that's why I always like to be in front or in the middle as mafia. I have seen Sasaki skim right though and win Total Mafia Victory's without lurking....Reenk as well but I have seen plenty of other "lurking" Mafia...I guess you were the first to ever relay it though another mod, and that's why it makes it so hard to accept your "just busy"(I mean you do have RL and mod duty's).

I lurked a few times as "scum" didn't like it....it's like winning by not playing at all.

[Subotan]

I've never played a game as mafia, so I wouldn't know which strategy was best

Lurking does seem like a rubbish way to win a game though. It's like winning by default.

[Askthepizzaguy]

I made a vow never to win by lurking regardless of alignment. I'm not the hiding type.

[GeneralHankerchief]

In the beginning of the day, it seemed as if there was going to be an open "competition" for the most votes, an anything-goes affair. The votes were spread far and wide, and delivered fast and furious. Nobody was safe because the votes were spread so thin. Finally, though, there did seem to be some separation from the pack. Both Ibn-Khaldun and Sasaki Kojiro seemed to be accumulating pluralities of votes.

Meanwhile, Sigurd sat back and watched all this from his easy chair that he had somehow managed to drag from his house and plant in the Frontroom Square a couple of days back. Sitting back and enjoying his book, A Darkness at Sethanon, Sigurd sipped some lemonade and quietly observed the action. Yessir, it was truly the little things in life that made it worth living. Despite all of the chaos swirling around him, Sigurd and his easy chair were an island of serenity and calm, a beacon of-

"Hey, waitaminute!" one villager suddenly shouted, pointing at Sigurd. "He hasn't done or said anything since this started! What's your opinion on all this, Sigurd?"

Taken aback, Sigurd had very little time to react. "Oh, uh... he did it," he said, pointing the finger directly back at his accuser. Once this deed was done, he went right back to his novel and lemonade. Naturally, this reaction was not quite enough to satisfy the villagers, and Sigurd accumulated a decent amount of votes in short order.

"All right, time's up," said Chief of Police Lemur a few minutes later. "Hmm, looks like we have a tie vote between Ibn-Khaldun and Sigurd. All right, well, I guess there's only one way to do this: runoff! So let's all vote again to see who is guil-"

"Sigurd," the villagers all said, pointing their fingers as one at the man in the easy chair.

"Well, that simplifies things," said Lemur, sprinkling something into Sigurd's drink while nobody was looking. "You three, help me haul this chair up to the execution platform. He wants to live comfy, he'll die comfy too." With a grunt, they hauled the easy chair and struggled to carry it up to the platform. After about a couple minutes' toil, they were finally successful. Panting and sweating from the effort, they looked at the carefree Sigurd with utter disdain.

"Ahh," Sigurd said, "I can't think of very many better ways for a man to go out than this. Many thanks for the dignified death, Lemur." He took a sip of his lemonade. "Now then, only one more page to go, and I'll finally have finished the book I've been having dreams abou-"

He slumped over in his chair, dead.

Day 4a tally:

Sigurd: 14 (everybody)
Ibn-Khaldun: 3 (Blackadder, Kage, Thermal)

Abstained: 1 (Sigurd)
Didn't vote: 5

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

Still alive: (22)
Sasaki Kojiro
Secura
Askthepizzaguy
Beefy187
Methos
White_eyes:D
Kagemusha
Subotan
Beskar
Captain Blackadder
Joooray
pevergreen
Renata
shlin28
Thermal Mercury
Cultured Drizzt fan
Ibn-Khaldun
woad&fangs
Psychonaut
spL1tp3r50naL1ty
TinCow
Reenk Roink

Killed:
Crazed Rabbit
Andres
atheotes
Double A
Centurion1
Csargo
Winston Hughes
johnhughthom

Executed:
Diamondeye
Chaotix
Yaseikhaan
Sigurd

Night will end in approximately 22 hours.

[Sasaki Kojiro]

To keep you guys entertained during the night, here is a link to the worst game of mafia ever played:

http://www.mafiascum.net/forum/viewt...=884262#884262

The last two pages crack me up

[GeneralHankerchief]

To keep you guys entertained during the night, here is a link to the worst game of mafia ever played:

http://www.mafiascum.net/forum/viewt...=884262#884262

The last two pages crack me up

Ahahahaha, konehead FTW.

Though for a sec I thought it wasn't him considering the 3-day delay between the end of day phase and the end of night phase (since he was pretty active). Then I remembered about the 72-hour night phases and there being other roles.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Greetings and salutations, esteemed mafiosi.

I have for some reason decided to reveal my occupation to you in an attempt to facilitate intra-townie communications, even after the voting period has already passed. I am what many might refer to as a "Doctor", and what I do is prevent you from carrying out your murderous enterprises. However, I myself am truly undefended and I would not be able to defend myself should you good fellows decide to ply your deadly arts on my gentle person. It would be truly good of you scumbags to end my miserable existence tonight, otherwise I might use my doctor powers to help my team win.

Warmest regards,

The Doctor.

_________

Dear Mr/Mrs: The Doctor

We have received your correspondence. Your message is very important to us, and we appreciate you taking the time to contact our organized crime syndicate. We receive thousands of letters per day and as such it is impossible for us to personally reply to every one of them, as we are unusually busy this time of year, what with the murders and all. But once again, we appreciate your patronage, and wish to inform you that one of our patient and skillful interns has:

• read your letter
• filed your letter for future reading
• misplaced your letter

And will reply as soon as possible. Sincerely,

The Mafia.

[Beefy187]

Dear doctor

I've read your request and we have considered it.
Believe me we discussed this for hours and hours.
But for tonight, we decided not to do anything about it.
While we do intend to win this game, what we want to see more is Pizza suffering.
And if letting you live does that then we will do our very best to keep you alive.

My sincere apologies.

Jim and Chuck.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Please do include more Pizza references. I find them very flattering.

[Sasaki Kojiro]

Greetings and salutations, esteemed mafiosi.

THE WHAMMY WINS
THE WHAMMY WINS
THE WHAMMY WAS A DOCTOR

Warmest regards,

The Doctor

p.s. I have a life outside of the interner (read - I GO TO SCHOOL)

[Thermal]

'THE WHAMMY WINS
THE WHAMMY WINS
THE WHAMMY WAS A DOCTOR'

Lol, that was pretty shabby, not as entertaining as I first thought it would be, but pretty dumb play at any rate.

Oh nevermind, I didn't refresh the page so I didn't know sasaki already posted it....you always get the response in quick

[White_eyes:D]

At some point your going to be lynched for that one Pizzaguy....(No Mafia would be that dense to think you were a doctor....)

Might see a drop in kills though.....but at this point, why wait?(I made that Mistake in "The Godfather 3", dropping my kills too soon)

Is Sigurd your scum buddy or something?

[Askthepizzaguy]

Dearest White_Eyes:D

Your attempt at feigned ignorance will not go unpunished. Surely you do realize there are no pro-town roles in this game, as the game host stated quite plainly. And then of course, the fact that the mafia's kills do not drop even after one of them dies, which is also stated quite plainly. The only reason I can see for this pretense of not understanding the game is because you are mafia. So therefore I will vote for you every round from now on until you die. Please do not murder me tonight, because that would prevent me from carrying out righteous justice.

Sincerely,

The Pizza.

[White_eyes:D]

WIFOM of the day My Kill write-up for you Pizzaguy....it's my BEST EVER....(It's a long one)

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Askthepizzaguy gets shot and dies, The shooter laughs then leaves.

[Askthepizzaguy]

No, please, don't hurt me. I have a wife and three toppings. I have dreams, dreams of one day being able to afford a fancy stuffed crust with garlic seasoning. If you come back on Tuesdays, I'm half price.

Also, try the wings, very spicy.

[Thermal]

WIFOM of the day My Kill write-up for you Pizzaguy....it's my BEST EVER....(It's a long one)

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Askthepizzaguy gets shot and dies, The shooter laughs then leaves.

No, he gets hit around the head with a crowbar.

[Captain Blackadder]

Dang that was a horrible game at MS.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Day breaks in the Frontroom. All is quiet. As usual, the white van was already out, doing its normal morning errand... OF DEATH.

*ding dong*

spL1tp3r50naL1ty opened the door. "Yes?" He wore a neutral expression on his face until he saw the man at the door's uniform.

"Pizza delivery," the deliveryman said. "You ordered two Neapolitan pies, one all cheese, the other half pepperoni, half sausage?"

"What? No..." Split said, slightly overwhelmed by the glorious sight of someone bringing him food at nine in the morning.

"This is a delivery for 'spL1tp3r50naL1ty' at nine-two-one BKS Boulevard, right?"

"Well, yes," Split said, slowly becoming intoxicated by the near-omnipotent aroma that the pizza was giving off, "that is me, but I still didn't order this pizza. I mean, who orders a pizza at nine in the morning?!"

"Yeah, my boss did seem a little bit skeptical when the order came in," the deliveryman said, "but hey, who is he to pass up a business opportunity at a time when things are slow? Are you suuuuuuuure you don't want this, then?" He opened the first box slightly, giving Split's nostrils a taste of the most wonderful scent in the world at full power.

"Well - it - would - be - a - shame - to - see - so - much - pizza - go - to - waste" Split said, now in a near-trance from the full blast of the smell.

"That's the spirit," the deliveryman said, grinning. He stepped inside, found Split's kitchen, and set the pizza boxes down on the counter, waiting off to the side. The excuse, if needed, would be that he was waiting for Split to pay him. Split, however, went straight for the pizza.

"Oh dear," he muttered upon opening the box. "I'm afraid that it's not cut. You don't happen to have a pizza cutter on you, do you?"

"As a matter of fact - I DO!" the mafioso yelled while jumping on top of Split in what was an entirely unnecessary move. Wrestling the still-dazed Split to the ground, he took out a pizza cutter, and in a theatrical roar plunged it into Split's throat. As the murdered Split's blood poured out further and further into the kitchen floor, the mafioso filched through his wallet, took exactly $25.53 in cash, plus $4 more for the tip.

White_eyes:D, not one really known for his trust in others, had been holding true to form ever since the attacks on the Frontroom had started. Aside from the voting sessions, he had for the most part hunkered down and clammed up, turning his house into a veritable fortress. He had asked the Chief of Police about the other kills, and he had learned. There was no way some yahoo with a white van with some service to offer was going to come into his house and kill him. Thanks to his booby traps, the mafioso would be dead before he even got to the doorbell.

All of this was well and good, but there was only one problem: White_eyes was getting sick.

It had started off upon returning home from the very first day of voting, during which the mafioso had stealthily injected the virus into his system without anybody noticing. At first, he had tried to pass it off as a cold, and then a 48-hour bug, but now, five days in, there was no denying it. White_eyes had something big.

Sighing, he logged onto the internet and plugged in his symptoms: Food not having any discernible effect on him, some sort of fungal infection growing on his arms. It was weird, certainly, but the results that came back at him were even clearer: Dutch elm disease.

"Dutch elm disease?" White_eyes said to himself. "Isn't that for trees? Dutch elm disease? Seriously?"

Naturally, since Dutch elm disease was normally a disease that trees caught, there was no readily-available set of pills for him to take. So he had to dig a little deeper. However, much to his delighted surprise, he found a combination medical doctor/tree specialist who had set up his practice in the Frontroom!

Spending the next 30 minutes disabling his various alarms and booby traps, he made the call to the doctor, who graciously agreed to come out and make a house call. He pulled up to the house several minutes later, toting a medical kit and what White_eyes observed to be a very large crate.

"Right then," said the doctor, after settling White_eyes down in his favorite chair, "Dutch elm disease, while rare in humans, is actually not unheard of. There have been, by my count, six documentations of it in humans since 1973. Because of its rarity, though, the treatment process is somewhat complicated. Are you sure you want to continue with this?"

"Yes, of course," said White_eyes. "I don't want to die from a disease that kills trees!"

"Right then," said the doctor, "let's get started." He took out a syringe and loaded it with some liquid. "This first injection I'm giving you will inform the viral cells that you are not, in fact, a Dutch elm tree by way of its passage through your system. This bit of information will serve to confuse the virus, which will weaken it and leave it more prone to the next series of injections."

"...that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," said White_eyes, his paranoia suddenly ratcheting back up.

"Fine then, enjoy living with Dutch elm disease." He got up, prepared to leave.

"No... wait," White_eyes said, sighing. "I'm sorry. Do it."

"Right then." And the doctor proceeded to inject White_eyes with the fluid. Immediately after the injection was finished, a cold jolt went through White_eyes's body and he found it more difficult to move his limbs or head.

"What... do to me?" he muttered, speech also coming harder.

"Shhh, easy now," the mafioso said, eyes not leaving his watch. He was evidently waiting for a certain amount of time to elapse. "Right then," he said, after the time had elapsed. "What I have just injected you with is a drug called Pancuronium, which as you have just discovered, is a very potent muscle relaxing agent. While causing paralysis, however, it has no anesthetic properties whatsoever, which means you are going to be able to fully enjoy the show I've prepared for you."

White_eyes, eyes white with fear, was unable to speak.

"Yes, good. No foolish remarks. Instead, you are going to sit here and be a captive audience. You know, you spent so much time studying the killer with the van and preparing yourself for that; instead, you should have been looking for the other set of kills going on. Surely you remember Csargo's untimely demise at the hands of spiders? Child's play compared with what I have in store for you." And with that, he unexpectedly walked out of the house, leaving the helpless White_eyes wondering what in God's name was going on.

The mafioso returned two minutes later, walking, ironically, right through the front door, carrying the very large crate that White_eyes had seen earlier. Setting it down and opening it, the mafioso stood back and watched. Suddenly White_eyes understood.

"Enjoy your slow death, White_eyes:D. Emphasis, of course, on 'slow'."

And as he turned around to leave again, a battalion of snapping turtles sauntered out of the crate and slowly made their way to their paralyzed captive. Starting by taking his toes one by one, they worked their way up White_eyes's body, feasting on his skin, his muscles, his fat, his fingers, and, eventually, his eyes. Yes, his juicy, delicious, white eyes.

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

"All right everyone," he said, "I think we officially start declaring this situation an emergency. Our numbers are in danger of being halved, something which I really haven't heard of since Spanish Flu. That was a disease. This is people. You can actually do something about this, so do something about this!"

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

Still alive: (20)
Sasaki Kojiro
Secura
Askthepizzaguy
Beefy187
Methos
Kagemusha
Subotan
Beskar
Captain Blackadder
Joooray
pevergreen
Renata
shlin28
Thermal Mercury
Cultured Drizzt fan
Ibn-Khaldun
woad&fangs
Psychonaut
TinCow
Reenk Roink

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

Executed:
Diamondeye
Chaotix
Yaseikhaan
Sigurd