Lent 2004 Game News - Week two

Sunday, 01 February

[00:35am] Pemmer's bomb didn't kill Dalriada

Pemmer reports:

I know Dalriada by face, and have briefly spoken to him on a number of occasions. Having spent a small fortune in The Regal (yes it can be done) I returned home to look for something else to drink. Cheap vodka plus Orange and Mango soda from Sainsbury's seemed like a good idea, but that left me with one problem: how do I dispose of the now empty soda bottle?

I filled it with explosive petroleum fluid, labelled it as a bomb, and to see exactly how easy this would be, I carried it in full view all the way to my target's room. Despite passing two assassins known to me whilst carrying this bomb, I was not challenged nor attracted any attention. I took out a conventional detonator, loaded it, placed it under the door, and connected it to detonate the bottle-cum-explosive.

Perhaps if my college provided plastic recycling facilities, I could help save the environment as well as prevent my targets suffering in this way. Anyhow, I used unleaded - that's at least a step in the right direction.

God this vodka tastes cheap! I hope I'm drinking out of the right bottle...

Dalriada reports:

I had just arrived back to my hostel from a night of healthy lurking and found a suspicious item outside my door. It said fake bomb and had a detonater under the door. These young assassins just dont take the time and effort to get up at 5am and bomb someone, they bomb you before 11pm and expect you to already be asleep, tisk tisk. I disarmed my would-be assassins thirst quenching weapon of choice and went to sleep at last. By the way, what does 'you've been pemmered' mean. Just strange!

[01:15am] Angelus called for a target

Angelus reports:

Went and knocked on target's door. No response. Left again. Bored. Thirsty. Will have to try again later, he looks tasty.

[01:45am] Miss Teen Oklahoma didn't trick John-Joseph Wilks

Miss Teen Oklahoma reports:

You know, back at the Miss Teen Oklahoma competition there were a lot of really pretty girls. But I didn't win just because I was the most physically attractive; I won because I was able to show the judges my inner beauty. I astounded them with my desire to help girls realize their dreams, inner beauty and inspirations by simply being more perfect than them! I left them totally amazed when I revealed how I supported the ASPCA in its effort for better treatment and protection of animals for an entire week! I also left them speechless when I told them how I'd helped promote Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) to a single youth standing outside the conference centre! I was like, way too hot compared to the rest of the contestants that I didn't even have to reveal how cool I was by supporting the Silver Ring Thing, empowering female teen identities through the humane disposal of males! I mean, just how perfect am I?

John-Joseph Wilks reports:

Checking my pigeonhole for mail, I found really rather a suspicious sheet of paper in my pigeonhole. I mean, why would I be sent something visibly signed 'The Sista Argentus'? On poking it, nothing happened, so I carefully picked it up with gloves on. And indeed, there was a discoloration indicative of vaseline or some equivalent down the far side. Didn't touch it, am not dead. A poison letter really should have a disclaimer, and some sort of mention of assassins in it, though.

Indeed it should.

Here endeth the report. Text of letter follows for general amusement:

Dear JJ

It has, like, come to my attention that you have not been abstaining from carnal activity as you should have been! Yes, that's right, I'm talking about SEX babe & it's just not right to go and do the dirty thing before you partake in marital bliss. Renounce your wicked ways and become pure of body, mind & soul by taking your second virginity. It's sooo the right thing to do! You know it makes sense, so join the SILVER RING!
Ever God-fearing,
The Sista Argentus.

I mean, what the hell!?

[01:56am] The ghost of The three of clubs got a letter from one-three-seven

The three of clubs reports:

Life is boring, until my death, nothing interesting happened to me, but my ghost has had rather more fun. Being dead kind of makes you immune to nutmeg, but for some reason I can't shake the habit of throwing letters around it, and then opening them with gloves.

I wonder why someone hand-delivered a letter that they'd written UMS on?

[12:03pm] kthxdie >:[ didn't poison Neo

kthxdie >:[ reports:

plzdieofkill lol

Neo reports:

I was sent a pioson letter full of sugar. It rattles, but I used gloves and do not have sugar on my hands. The assassin must be stupid to use powder that rattels.

[12:03pm] Neo's letterbomb never even got to Alasdair North

Neo reports:

My advicor advised me to stay competent over the week end with a thing lisensed as a bomb. I left it in cauais pigeonholes. I hope it kills him. Then we tried some other targets, but I do not think that they were in.

Another assassin in fact removed the bomb before Alasdair North could find it, but this attempt still counts for Neo's competence. Of course, the incompetent target died before next checking his pigeonhole anyway, so it's fairly irrelevant.

[12:05pm] Thy Dungeonman's letter didn't kill Gordon Ball

Gordon Ball reports:

A poisoned letter from one "The Dungeonman" found its way into my pidgeonhole. Needless to say this failed to kill me. Although I am very proud to receive my First Poisoned Letter Ever (tm), I was hoping for one slightly more subtle.

Note to assassin... I could smell the talc powder long before opening the letter and I strongly advise you to find some unscented poison for your next attempt. I look forward to doing future business with you.

Yours, with extreme sorrow for your impending violent slaughter


Thy Dungeonman reporteth:

Thy Dungeonman

You are Thy Dungeonman!

Ye find yeself in yon dungeon. Ye see a WINDOW. An IRC WINDOW. Behind sayd IRC WINDOW is many, many EMPTY CANS OF BEYR. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and NOT DENNIS.

What wouldst thou deau?


Ye thinketh that thou shouldst not drinketh quite so much in thy futyre.


Dennis is not here. After all, it is thy room for sooth! Were Dennis here though, you are sure he twould regale thy personage with endless tales of his long jimber jams. Ye spies a SCROLL! Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and SQUIRREL.


Ye takes the scroll and reads of it. Thy scroll sayeth: Beware reader of ye parchment. Thout villyn of esteemed evil, GORDON BALL hath planeth to destroye ye dungeone! Thou must stoppeth hym.


Ye approacheth thy rooms exit. Ye spyeth a LETTER and a COMBI ASSAULT RIFLE/ GRENADE LAUNCHER. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and ETERNAL DOOM.


Thoust can't taketh that!


Tis locked in a cupbyrd with a big lock. Thoust has no keys for sayd lock. Thoust cannot open, break or destoyeth thout lock in anyway. So don?t even ask. OK?


Thout taketh thy letter. Tis adressyd to GORDON BALL.


Ye entereth thy grate courte of thy college of thout much holie trinity. Ye spieth a FOUNTAINE. Obvious exits are WEST, EAST and BATCAVE.


It smelleth of wee.


Ye entereth thee batcave. Too cool! Ye notyce that thy exit hath closed beind yeself. Ye seeest a COOL CAR, INTENSE ACTION and a DODGY BOOK on a bookcase.


BANG! KERPOW! WALLOP! SMACK! SPLAT! BATMAN and ROBIN are involved in some INTENSE ACTION with each othere and are far too busy to deale with the likes of thyself.


As ye taketh thee booke of dodginess, ye bookcase swingeth around and ye find yeself in thee BUTTERIE! Ye spotteth STRANGIE FORERNERS IN WHYTE CLOAKES. Possible exits are DOOR 1, DOOR 2 and DOOR 37.5.


Thee strangiers from forern landes tell taels of mightie dragones from theyrt dungeones. They givest thou somethinge claimething tis FOOD.


Dost not take thee long to realise thee food tis not food, but tis actualey POISONE!


Ye getteth thee poisone.


Ye putteth thee poisone in thy letter addressyd to thee fablyd GORDON BALL. Thee firste parte of thy plane of cunningness is almost complete!


Thout are in front of thee POSTBOX. Ye see a DONKEY. Nice DONKEY. Possible exits are NORTH, SOUTH and DONKEY.


Congraturation! Ye escapes from thee INCOMPETENCE DEADLINE oncemore in thy never ending queste to remaine:


[12:20pm] Verdict returned on Jail house rock's crimes

The court convened today to discuss the fate of the wanted criminal Jail house rock. After much deliberation, the conclusion was reached that although he was indeed guilty of killing without a contract, the unendorsed death was due to stupidity on his part rather than outright malice.

Accordingly, a judge announced that Jail house rock's crimes would be stricken from the record should he succeed in demonstrating his commitment to improving society, firstly by killing at least two incompetent assassins, and secondly, by removing the dastardly cop-killer "Drunken Chunky Monkey" (or any other wanted criminal, should another arise).

[13:01pm] Jail house rock didn't kill any incompetents

Jail house rock reports:

I now know why the incompetant assassins are what they are. They spend all their time eating out. I went around most of the list in order to redeem myself but I found that all I preyed apon were out to lunch - they are so incompetant that they cannot cook for them selves. Ohwell, I still managed to get through town without being noticed by at least two other assassins, they should have kept their eyes open.

[13:04pm] Thy Dungeonman removeth thy earlier bombe from yon pigeonhole of Alasdair North and replaceth it with a lettre

Thy Dungeonman reporteth:

Thy Dungeonman - Parte the Seconde

You are Thy Dungeonman!

Ye find yeself in yon dungeon. Ye see a lone MUFFINE sittething on tope of a table. A MYSTICALE MOUTHE hovereth on a screene in front of thyself. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and INTERWEB.

What wouldst thou deau?


Thout are truelie a kinde man. That muffine of virtue singlest must have felt most lonesome. Thout are a liberatyr, freeinge thy muffine frome the captivitie of its plastyc walls and letting it embryce thee true freedome that tis onlie founde in thy stomache of THY DUNGEONMAN itself. Tis not oure place to call thyself "A greedy git" or anything.


Thee mouthe of mysticalytie opens and revealeth itself to be thee holie word of thee true god, knowne to man moste mortyl only as ADAM.


Thout prostryte thyself in fronte of Adam and aske for WORDES OF MUCHE WYSDOME. Adam, grate dayity that he tis, receives thee and grants his WORDES OF MUCHE WYSDOME to thy eternale soule.


The wordes of Adam ringest most clearlie in thy mind: Thoust must tracketh down the villyn ALASDAIR NORTH and ease the vile treacherie he hast spreadeth throughe thy dungeone.


Thout are transporteratyd via the interweb thingie to a realme of nonsynse moste puryle. Thout seeest thy friende moste goode TROGDOR, lorde ande guardiyn of sayd realme of fancie. Obvious exits are BADGER, MUSHROOM and SNAKE.


Trogdor warneth thyselfe that thy bodie is unprotectered at thee momente moste presente. Howevyr, he suggesteth to thee that thee shoulde go forth and questeth after thee powere most grate of a MAGYC SPELL. You thanketh him muchlie for his advyce.


Thout findeth thyself in the grocerie sectione of thy locale markyt of superness: Saynsburie. Ye shoppeth for ages. For sooth! It feeleth like thout are in thyre for aeons! After ye finish thy shoppeing, thy finde thyselfe withe a PIZZA OF HAME AND APPLE OF PINE, some JAFFA CAKES and BOTTLE OF GYN. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH and INTO EVEN GREATER DEBT.


Well that goeth withoute saying, doth it not?


Thoust dost not even have a fondness particulyr for jaffa cakes, but the suggestione moste hypnotyc of thee "Buyest one and getteth one free" deale persuades thee to take these also.


Ye is ambushyd by a wandering monstere. For sooth! On a seconde looke tho, tis revealed to be nought more than a preachere of thee religion of Gardies. Ye panyc tis over. Phew. Obvious exits are EAST, WEST and GIANTE BANANANANANA OF DOOME.


Ye walketh to a bananananana. Tis fairly large. Twon mighte also say big. Howevyr, one twould be moste correcte if thout called it giante. It gives of an aura of evyl, dreade, thee mighte go as far as sayinge doome. Ye wondereth how this place came by its name. Ye seeeth a STRANGE YELLOWE BLOB. Exits are NORTH, SOUTH and TRIANGLE.


Thee blob claimeth to be hungrie.


Thee blob gulpeth down the cakes and ingest theyre bogof powers. Envelopyd by the power of bogof, thee blob revealeth itself to be a COMPSCI! Using its "l33t sk1llz", it hax0rz the univyrse and teacheth thyself to use a MAGYC SPELL.


Ye waveth thee hands in thee ayre and casts ye spell. Tis a spell of MIMIQUE. A POISONE LETTER addressyd to ALASDAIR NORTH appeareth then floateth into a flyinge postbox.

Congraturation! Ye mighte onlie havest used a lame poisone letter, but incos are lame also, so tis alryte. Anyway, till next tyme, you twill always remaine:


P.S. As thee poisone letter flyest through thy ayre, it setteth off a pigynhole bombe. But tis still fyne, as it dost note kill thee. So thout stille remaine:


[14:05pm] PC Detritus couldn't reach Ish-Bosheth

PC Detritus reports:

Overnight I had become all that I had feared. A corrupt copper. All my life I had upheld the law... until now. I was standing on the verge of insanity. Do I redeem myself, or take the final step into psychotic rampage.

I got no sleep last night.

Guilt gnawed at my insides like a thing that gnaws other people's insides. Until this morning when my mind was made up. I wasn't going to let the good name of PC Detritus be soiled and spat upon. I had one chance to make ammends... the incompetents.

Armed with an RBG, much spare ammo, a 6-inch cardboard knife and a list of names I set out like a man possessed.

The first port of call was to Ish-Bosheth, alas I could not even get close to him as he was cunningly sealed behind a hi-tech swipe card door. Damn! Time to move on....

[14:15pm] PC Detritus also didn't find Michaelangelo

PC Detritus reports:

Next was Christ's. Being apprehensive due to the recent 'claims' of Mafia activity, but not overly so as we all know they are only rumours, I slid into Christ's unnoticed. This time I was able to get right up to the door of my next incompetent, Michaelangelo. Noting the lack of spy-hole, and armed with a watertight excuse for being there (..."I got lost"...) I knocked upon the door and waited... ...and waited. ...and waited. He wasn't in. Cunning! Very Cunning! I asked the people downstairs when he would be returning and they said they didn't know. A likely story indeed...

[14:20pm] Ginger northerner didn't find her target

Ginger northerner reports:

I'm not inept! Well ok, maybe a bit...but I did make an attempt today at 2:20pm: on my way to XXXXX actually. Pity he wasn't in either :-( so me not quite incompetant?

Should she make one further attempt on a target, Ginger northerner will indeed be redeemed from incompetence.

[14:25pm] Graham Thomson (PC Detritus) fell for Bourbon Creams' trap

PC Detritus reports:

Next up was Trinity, and Bourbon Creams. I found the map inside Trinity's main gate to be of great help in ascertaining my target location, and within hours I was at the door of Creams' room. cautiously I tried the handle... it was unlocked! Could this be the kill I had been waiting for....

Once into his hallway I noticed it was dark... perhaps my target was asleep, or maybe he was hiding. I waited for a few seconds and heard some rustling from within. My target was not asleep. I tried the handle of the door to his bedroom and was about to burst in upon him with guns blazing....when I felt my left hand start to dissolve. Damn! He had coated his own interior door handle with poison! Quickly I tried to sever my own arm but it was too late as the poison spread throughout my body.

"Bugg--" said my corpse. And died.

Thus ended the short any quite pathetic life of PC Detritus. May he rest in peace.

My last wishes are that all criminals redeem themselves as I failed to do so myself.

(P.S. I leave my collection of Hawaiian shirts to the Orphans and Widows Fund)

Bourbon Creams reports:

There was a young man from Trinity,
Whose assassins were in the vicinty.
An attacker came in
To repent for a sin,
But instead was sent to infinity.

The Umpire congratulates Bourbon Creams on his cunning kill, but notes that should he wish to redeem himself from incompetence he will still have to show some inclination towards actually attacking his targets.

[14:30pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) called on Drunken Chunky Monkey

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

It was a cold and windy Sunday. I had no work to do. Incompetents had hit town. The perfect combination. My first target was the criminal Nick Wood. However, on arrival I found a bomb outside his door, and (being no expert on bombs) I didn't want to risk disarming it. So I left.

[15:48pm] Michael Cripps killed Martin Lester (IFf AKA The Adult Male's Father)

IFf reports:

You are standing outside a long, tall building used for student accommodation. Various other buildings, also used for student accommodation, lie to the west and south.

You can also see:
A locked door

You wait.

Time passes...

An attractive young lady arrives from the west.

You start following the attractive young lady.
The attractive young lady unlocks the door with her access card.

You thank the attractive young lady.
She smiles at you as she walks into the building.
You follow the attractive young lady into the building.

You are standing at the entrance to a block of student accommodation. Stairs lead up, while a corridor leads north. You can leave the building via the door to the west.

You stop following the attractive young lady.
The attractive young lady walks up the stairs.

You walk north.

You are standing in a long corridor. The corridor continues to the north and south. There are doors along both the east and west side.

You walk north.

You are standing at a secondary entrance to a block of student accommodation. A corridor leads south and stairs lead up, while you can leave the building through a door to the west.

You walk up.

You are standing on the first floor of a block of student accomodation. Stairs lead up and down. A bathroom is to the north, while a corridor lies to the south.

You start to watch the corridor. It appears to be empty.

You wait.

Time passes...

You wait.

Time passes...

You wait.

Time passes...
Maybe the target's room is empty?

You walk down.

You are standing at a secondary entrance to a block of student acommodation.

You walk west.

You are standing outside a block of student accommodation. Paths lead west and south.

You can also see:
Your target's window

It's a period of a few weeks when people answer lots of Tripos questions. The curtains are drawn, making it initially appear unoccupied, but from the right angle you can just see a light on.

You are magically transported to Sidney Street.

You are standing on Sidney Street. A college lies to the east. There are several shops to the west. The road continues north and south. To the west is the delivery entrance to Sainsbury's.

You can also see:
Many people

You walk west.

You are lurking on the north side of the delivery entrance to Sainsbury's. You can quite easily see anyone approaching from the north or the south, although those to the south may think you look a little suspicious.

You can also see:
Many people, some of whom are looking at you suspicously

You wait.

Time passes...
People pass.

You wait.

Time passes...
People pass.

You wait.

Time passes...
People pass.


Time passes...
An assassin with whom you have a no-kill agreement, a dead criminal and his friend pass on the other side of the road. They see you, approach, and ask why you are standing here.


Time passes...
Michael Cripps cycles past from the north and waves at you.

You wave to
Michael Cripps and say, "Hello," to him.

You wait.

Time passes...
Michael Cripps dismounts and walks casually towards you. He obviously wants to have a word with his godson.

You wait.

Time passes...
Michael Cripps draws a gun from his pocket, points it at you and murmurs, "Bang."

>MIKE, Oh, am I dead?
You ask
Michael Cripps, "Oh, am I dead?"
Michael Cripps replies, "Yes."

The loud explosion causes everyone to run away screaming.

You scored 3 out of a possible 100 or so.
Next time remember to be cautious of live assassins who haven't agreed not to kill you.

Michael Cripps reports:

At 15:45 I was returning from an enjoyable couple of hours in the pub. Taking it upon myself to go past Sainsbury's on my way home, I ran into my target, Martin Lester. I nodded at him as I passed, wheeled my bicycle around and walked up to him.

Drawing my pellet gun I shot him from point-blank range.

414 reports:

The ghosts of the departed roam this plane, seeking sustenance for their miserable existence. It is said in some legends that a warrior's dead enemies serve him in the afterlife, and this is very nearly true. The energy of death is the strongest possible food, and a warrior absorbs this over the course of his life. In his death he continues this process, in the hope of achieving the strength of will to displace the soul of an existing being.

This is why the warrior 414 was hovering around Michael Cripps. This is why he watched avariciously as the assassin drew his gun. This is why he let himself be dragged by the surging chi of the bullet as it buried itself in Martin Lester's gut.

As he fell to the floor, 414 fed. And fed. And he'll be seeing one weak-soulled individual very very soon...

[16:40pm] PC Jar-Jar shot the incompetent Ian McCann (Bob)

PC Jar-Jar reports:

Went to Selwyn. Found door open, so open carefully with RBG, something behind door. shoot it, it turns out to be the target.

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

Our second inco, Ian McCann, was nearby at Selwyn and so we headed over there next. Piling into his corridor we subtly knocked on his door and proceeded to shoot him when he answered. At least he had a gun...

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

During breakfast, the red telephone on my desk rang. This telephone is reserved for calls of the highest importance, and a check of the caller id revealed it to be none other than Adam. I answered immediately.

Me: Greetings your royal highness.

Him: Hello Man with the Golden Gown

Me: Are you well?

Him: Mostly, although I have recently been suffering from Mathmo tendencies and am still recovering from the shock of attending an event known as a lecture.

Me: What can I do for you today?

Him: Some people known as incompetents have recently been spotted around my kingdom. Meet me in (censored) in twenty minutes.

With those words, the line went dead. I summoned Miss Cashcard, who arranged for my limousine to transport me to (censored) immediately.

Precisely twenty minutes later, I arrived in (censored) to be met by Adam and a large group of his most trusted subjects. After over three hours of discussion, we set out for our first visit.

Our second visit was to Selwyn College Cripps Court, home of Ian McCann. He had also obligingly left his door unlocked, but was found to be inside his room. A member of our group promptly invoked his licence to kill, and we left shortly after.

Aesahettr reports:

Once again, I saw them. The other denizens of this shady underworld. Who knows what they are really like, or if they exist at all. Maybe they are just malevolent spirits, haunting my mind. Maybe they are real, but how would I know them in real life. Perhaps they are people I see every day, perhaps I never have and never will.

Dearest of all my friends, maybe. Or so they will be today. A day may come, when the strength of men fails. But it is not this day. Today, we fight!

Let our enemies come, and they shall wash against us in futile waves.

The malevolent thoughts come and my vision fades to monchrome as we set off, hunters to their quarry.

[17:45pm] Adam Baird Fraser and others didn't kill Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

Fourth on our list of incos was another Caian, this time Joseph Lindsey. After arming ourselves with a multitude of fluffy anim^Wknives we knocked at his door, only to find that he wasn't in.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

Our next target, Joseph Lindsay of Caius College, required special measures, so we visited the local menagerie to procure deadly attack animals. Unfortunately, his door was firmly locked and there was no response to our knocks, so we were unable to unleash the beasts.

[17:55pm] Aesahettr shot an innocent

The Immortal Umpire reports:

You are standing outside Christ's College.

Also here is a group of assassins. They appear to be hunting incompetents.


You are carrying:
infinite umpirical powers
a polka-dot bandana (being worn)
a list of incompetents (in your pocket)
a targetting list

The assassins start talking about the incompetent in this college.


It's a scruffy piece of paper containing a list of all the live players remaining in the game, along with the targets and assassins of each. You snigger quietly to yourself as you look at who is being targetted by whom.

One of the assassins stops talking and stares intently at a figure on the other side of the street.


You can't read the list of incompetents while it's in your pocket.

The assassin says, "Isn't that David Chow?"


You're carrying too many things already.

The assassin says, "No, it can't be."


The targetting list falls to the ground and blows away. Oh well, hopefully no-one will find it.

One of the other assassins suggests, "You could run up to him shouting 'David!' and shoot him if he looks round."


You take the list out of your pocket.

The first assassin says, "Actually, it might be him. I can't remember what he looks like."


You can't read the list while it's folded up!

The first assassin says, "You know, I think it is him."


You unfold the folded-up incompetents list.

The figure sees the group and comes towards you. "Hi!" he says.


The list contains the names of eight incompetents. Three of them you've already visited. Another lives in the college you're currently standing outside.

"Hi!" says the assassin. "Do you want to die?"


You can't do that while the list is unfolded.

"Okay," says the figure.


You fold up the list of incompetents.

The assassin draws an RBG and shoots at the figure. He misses.



Another assassin draws a pellet pistol and shoots the figure in the chest, twice.


You are carrying:
infinite umpirical powers
a polka-dot bandana (being worn)
a list of incompetents (in your pocket)

The figure asks, "Won't you go wanted for that?"


They are beyond comprehension.

"No," says the first assassin.

"Ok," says the corpse.


Ok, you're now wielding the umpirical powers.

The assassins chat with the corpse about work and the weather.


To talk to someone, try 'SOMEONE, SOMETHING'.

The corpse asks how the incompetent hunt is going.


The puny mortals ignore you.

"We killed a guy in Selwyn," says one of the assassins. "And we left traps for a couple more. And then we found you."


I don't think violence is the answer to this one.

The corpse points out that he is not, in fact, David Chow.


I don't think violence is the answer to this one.

The assassins laugh nervously. One of them says, "Oops."


You laugh at the rather worried assassins. The one who killed the innocent asks you whether the incompetents he killed today can be retroactively counted against his redemption conditions.

Normally Aesahettr would have been made wanted for this; however, due to firstly his service to the game in eliminating so many incompetents, and more importantly the fact that he was dead fifteen minutes later, he is posthumously redeemed.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

We then headed to Christ's College to pay a visit to Michael Mann, but stopped before entering as one of our group believed that the could see another person in need of our "services". When he approached us, he was promptly shot by Aesahettr. However, analysis with my watch scanner revealed the person to be an innocent. Adam was not pleased:

"No wait I can't do that until its made public"

"However, I will forget all about it if you are good and do some favours for me, which are (these are of a deeply personal nature and cannot be disclosed)".

Following this incident, we entered Christ's and located our target's door. Unfortunately it was locked securely and there was no answer.

Following this disappointment, we each went our separate ways, and I returned to the Master's Lodge to dine and consult more books on interesting ways to kill people without anybody becoming suspicious.

Aesahettr reports:

They were after me. It was my fault. You can't run from your past. You'll end up running in circles. Until you fall back down to the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper.

They. Not just the half formed images, but the shadowy forms around me. It was the choice. You lived by the code. You died by the code. Those were the rules, and I had violated the code. By rights death would come to me. It could be delayed, but never cheated. Not even fate can cheat death. But I would try. One last laugh in the face of destiny. A bitter, laconic laugh perhaps but a laugh nonetheless.

The images in my mind continue to take form. A street, a small knot of people. A dim orange light. A body, slumped in a pool of blood. A figure, apart from the others, a gay german hairdresser, perhaps.

Logic told me to give in now, to accept the inevitable. Logic was a liar. I would cheat death because I knew it was impossible. The past comes together like a broken mirror. Piece it together and cut yourself. Look at it and change with it. It could drive you mad. It could set you free.

Freedom... from this place, this world, this... plane of existance.

[18:08pm] Michael Richards killed Gordon Ball (Aesahettr AKA Marvin)

Michael Richards reports:

The hands! The hands! They swarm everywhere, controlling everything. That wouldn’t be too bad were it not for the tentacles in my mind, controlling my very thoughts. I fought against them, but they are too powerful and once they have you in their grasp, they never truly leave. After being woken up by a fire alarm at some ridiculous time in the morning (around 11:45), I headed over to the Anchor for a nice inco bashing session. Or alternatively a general three hours lazing around. Once we got moving though, I began to worry that one of my assassins might be among the group. However, we arranged a no kill agreement for the duration of the inco bash and so my guard fell. We ran around Cambridge and how we laughed and frolicked! Finding open doors waiting for our (lack of) bombs and poison, I thought that I finally knew the bonds of friendship that nothing could ever break. But it was not to be. Just as I was feeling at my happiest, demons from my past finally beaten off, a single tentacle flicked through my brain telling me: "Memorise his face ... he’s your target." They spoke evil, twisting words ... making me mad enough to kill. I fought them off for the moment, swearing that no blood would be shed by my hands today. But then he went and did it. He killed an innocent and I was bombarded by thoughts as my fury began to rise ... this madman must be stopped! At this point I began to fail in my eternal battle and slowly became but a mere puppet for what the tentacles had planned. As we left the final college and it became clear that the inco bashing was over, I felt my right hand move involuntarily toward my gun and grab it. I wrestled with the evil forces, but it was to no avail. I felt my arm raise towards his back and then, almost as in a daze, I heard the word "Bang" escape from my mouth. It was done. Gordon Ball lay dead at my feet and there was nothing I could do to bring him back. All of a sudden the tentacles left my body, laughing as they went. I knelt down beside Gordon’s body and wept. Wept for the sheer inhumanity of it. Wept because I knew, upstanding citizen though I might be, that one day the tentacles would return and there would be nothing I could do to stop them.

For the victim's own report of his death, see here.

[19:00pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) couldn't find The swine

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

After a short break, my next target was Lawrence Wujanto. Having gained access to his staircase, I found that he was out. (curse him)

[19:10pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) found no sign of quiet

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

A quick walk to Kings, and my next two targets. First up was Iain Ezra Macdonald. As I headed his way, someone (who I didn't recognise in the dark) called out my real name, and told me that he had just had a phone call from "Gordon" (I don't know any Gordons...) that Ezra's room was bombed and covered with poison. On arrival, I discovered no bombs. No poison. No number identifying the room (I asked a neighbour). No locked doors. Also no target. After lurking a bit, there was still no sign of the target. Is no-one worried about thieves, or ACTUAL assassins?

[19:12pm] Iain Ezra Macdonald (quiet) was killed by Aesahettr's bomb

Agent Jar-Jar reports:

Went to Kings, found open room but had nothing to sort it with. the rest of the squad guarded the room while I went to get stuff. We left a cap detonator under his mouse and contact poisoned his light, his cold water tap and his [inner] doorhandle.

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

After Selwyn we decided to try our luck at King's. Arriving at the back entrance we arrived at Ezra MacDonald's room and let ourselves in through the unlocked doors. Waiting there for about 15 minutes yielded no inco, but Kirika and I nearly shot each other when we didn't hear him announce himself before entering... Having waited long enough we left a detonator under his mouse and contact poisoned his light switch, door handle and cold water tap.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

We then proceeded to King's College, home of Iain Ezra Macdonald. Unsurprisingly, his door was also unlocked. We debated poisoning or bombing his room, but discovered that we had exhausted our supplies of contact poison and detonators. We dispatched someone to the local arms dealers to procure such items, and waited. On his return, we covered the room in poison and set another computer trap.

Aesahettr reports:

Stranded in the dark and violent night, I tried to find peace with myself. But I could not. The blood was already on my hands, and it would never all come off. I couldn't go back, the only way was forwards, to an uncertain and dangerous future. But to abandon hope, end it now would be to dishonour the memory of those who had died at my hands. And those who still would.

I went on. Another dark staircase, another forboding room. But the actions were barely my own any more. Nothing mattered. The victim. The manner of their death. The mourners. Only the kill. There was no pleasure in the chase, the cunning, the subtly. Only the sure knowledge of death was solace.

The images at the edge of my vision, what I see when I'm neither asleep or awake begin to take form. I see a dim glow, a pool of blood. Who knows what it means? And always the slight unworldly shimmering.

[19:25pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) visited The Haggis Hunter

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

Knocked on the door of The Haggis Hunter, my cover story being the giving out of Bible's to evil heathen like him. He didn't buy it, despite my best attempts to interest him in salvation. At this point I headed back to college to get some food.

The Haggis Hunter reports:

Hey, some loser came round to my room tonight, making a miserable kill attempt, trying to enter my room claiming to be a bible salesman! come back later my friend!

[19:58pm] Aesahettr blew up Alasdair North (Ish-Bosheth)

PC Jar-Jar reports:

Went to pub. Drank coke and ate food. Went inco bashing, got to Harvey corut to find an open room so we left a cap detonator under the mouse mat. Got funny looks from neighbours.

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

After meeting at the Anchor and sitting around for a couple of hours, we decided to head off and bash some incos. We set off first for Harvey Court to the residence of Alasdair North and luckily found our way into his corridor at the first try. Heading round to his room we noticed that the door was wide open and the room empty. After briefly considering lurking, we ended up leaving a detonator under his mouse and moving on.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

Our first stop was Harvey Court, home of Alasdair North. In true incompetent's style, the door was wide open, but he was nowhere to be seen. After some discussion, we decided that the safest course of action was to reprogram the computer to explode if touched. We then left with haste, and hoped that the neighbours had not noticed the trap.

Aesahettr reports:

The flesh. The flesh. I think I killed him. I think he's dead. I don't know. I don't know. Death is coming. It's coming. They're here. They're here. Get away. Get away, before they hurt you.

Exultation replaces fear. A million voices, crying out... Yet another victory in the war against... them, the shady ones, the tormentors who haunt my dreams, taunt me with their ethreal presence, always in the periphery of my vision.

Sometime... release, but for now I will fight or risk losing what is left of my sanity.

[20:35pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) visited Bourbon Creams

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

David Chow. Tried to interest him in a bible, he instantly told me that he had already killed and was hence no longer incompetent. Not wishing to be made wanted for killing someone no longer incompetent, I left. As a note to all those people who thought my bible-offering scheme was laughable, there ARE a load of people wandering around Cambridge handing out bibles. They gave me the one I was offering to my targets.

As it happens, David Chow was still incompetent at this point; the Umpire does not consider that poisoning a single policeman who came to kill you is a sufficient expenditure of effort to redeem oneself from incompetence. However, by the time this report went up, David Chow was already dead, so nevermind.

[21:15pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) visited Ginger northerner

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

Called on Ginger northerner. After ringing every bell on her staircase at least twice, someone came to let me through the fiendish security. She was out, but as I left I noted some keen-eyed sleuths gazing at the brass plaque at the foot of the stairs through magnifying glasses. It revealed that the whole building was in fact an ancient undergrad engineering project. How bizarre...

[21:15pm] The League Of Extraordinary Jesuans went hunting incompetents

G.I.Bob reports:

Yesterday at about 21:15 five Jesuans set out to rid the world of incompetent assassins, for how else were they to once more be able to earn vast quantities of money from 'hits'. These incompetents are just cheap labour that robs the honest assassin of his income.

"So, Was G.I.Bob there?" you may ask. Well of course, as he is always happy to watch the backs of his allies. He would of course lead them to swift victory if only he could move fast enough.

First stop Trinity: no one there. Next on to Maugdalene: after making it past the locked door by the P'Lodge, which involved Bob climbing into the keyhole in order to pick the lock, Bob and Unnamed Assisstant set out to find O staircase. They soon realised that Bob's initial guess that this staircase was on the other side of the road was correct. Thirdly, Gonville and Caius: again no one was home. Contact poison was considered, but then promptly dismissed as a bad idea as innocents could be harmed. Finally: the fortress of Gardy's was assailed. The siege was successful and there was much jubilation. Strange Jesuan got food poisoning after swallowing G.I.Bob, who was not stealing the loot, but rather inspecting it for contact poison. The league returned home at the same time that 'A Life Less Ordinary' started.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

I had just finished dining at high table, and was finishing my (incredibly expensive) port when there was a knock at the door. Since Miss Cashcard had left for the evening, I had to answer myself. I was about to push the 100000V electric shock button, when I realised that the person at the door was in fact a friend of mine.

He explained that he was going on an expedition to kill incompetents, and asked if I would like to join him. Naturally I accepted, and met up with some other allies before setting out into the night.

Our first visit was to the home of David Chow, in Trinity College. After a little exploration, we found his room, but the door was locked and there was no response to our knocks.

We then visited Magdalene College, home of Diana O'Carroll, but were unable to find her residence due to a slight lack of maps and college swipe cards.

We then paid a return visit to Joseph Lindsay's room in Caius College. As before it was locked and there was no answer. I had to remind my colleagues several times that Adam would be displeased if they were to place poison on the door handle.

Following these failed attempts, we paid a visit to an establishment known as Gardies and, after analysing it for poison, partook of a particularly nice Greek Burger.

[21:30pm] Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) didn't kill quiet

Uncountable (2^1257787-1)/(2^1398269-1) reports:

Iain Ezra Macdonald again. This time he was in, and proceeded to try to cosh me. As I had just shot his arm off, his attempt was unsuccessful. It being dishonourable to shoot cripples, I left.

PS. Could any assassin tell me why there is a pavement stone outside Kings with the words "High Maintenance Life" carved into it?

Monday, 02 February

[09:05am] Jail house rock murdered Chris Knowles (The Electron Kid)

The Electron Kid reports:

One of the advantages of not having played before is that hardly anyone knows what you look like. On the other hand, you can't spot other players until they have a gun in your stomach. What really doesn't help is not knowing the names of the people who sit a row in front of you in lectures - specifically, the vile Thomas de Rivaz. See him every day, would say 'hi' if I passed him in the street, but not a clue, until today, what his name was.

Unfortunately, this was a fact of which he was not aware. Assuming that I would be onto him, he gunned me down just outside lectures at just gone nine this morning, in full view of dozens. I fell, clutching my stomach, and watched my life's blood drain away towards the Cam. It's probably cleaner for the donation. With my dying breath I demanded his name. At least he gave me that much.

Jail house rock reports:

Seeing my chances of redemption vanish before my eyes, I decieded to do the best thing I could do, and kill everone closest to me hehehe. It was a swift death, swifter still as Chris Knowles didn't know who I was. Unfortunatly, I failed to realise that killing him would alert other assassins in the area due to the screams of pain, so I quickly got into the sleepy saftey of a 9am lecture.

With this cold-hearted killing of an innocent assassin, Jail house rock has indeed thrown away his chances of redemption.

Chris Field reports:

This morning, just before 9am, I witnessed the death of Chris Knowles before my very eyes. The killer was vicious, and had a mean look in his eyes that said 'dammit the last criminal was killed so I have no hope of redemption, danm the system!'. And so another victim has been slaughtered, and my journeys around Cambridge become ever more dangerous.

Although the conditions for Jail house rock's redemption did indeed include the killing of a wanted criminal, of whom the only other remaining was discovered to be dead shortly after the announcement, the Umpire cannot help but reflect that asking whether it might not have been possible to negotiate an alternative might not have been a more constructive solution than murdering the first assassin to hand.

[10:05am] Agent Jar-Jar killed David Chow (Bourbon Creams)

Agent Jar-Jar reports:

having just finished one lecture and en route to somewhere else[tm] we stopped to grab lunch in the CMS canteeen. Seems the incompetent David Chow had done likewsie, and despite some unconvincing lying on the part of a certain corpse the immortal lines were uttered "hi David!" "you might as well shoot me now." "OK then, bang."

and so ended another life.

Bourbon Creams reports:

I already knew that I was unlikely to leave the CMS alive given the number of assassins around. The idea of Dangerous Dave ever showing any inclination to attacking any of his targets was a little far-fetched, so there was only one way to be removed from the incompetence list.

After sitting down safely in my ten o'clock lecture, I felt in need of some cafeine. Being incompetent, I couldn't be bothered to take any weapons with me, but met Agent Jar-Jar and the corpse of A cute little tar baby in the queue. As I was unarmed and not very awake, death was rather inevitable. Only a few minutes later did I realise that I was incompetent enough not to realise that I was in fact armed at the time, but had forgotten about the knives in my pockets.

[13:20pm] Michael Richards wasn't impressed by Moose Hunter's letter

Michael Richards reports:

Another day, another poison letter. Oh, and another failed attempt I suppose as well.

[14:40pm] Weaponth of math Dethtruction blew up Lawrence Wujanto (The swine)

The swine reports:

Hi there,
I've just passed away.
What comes next?

Weaponth of math Dethtruction reports:

Now the Weaponth of math Dethtruction had blatantly failed in their previouth attempt to do what the fluffy bandana told them, and had been generally lazy and utheleth. But when the litht of people Too Lazy To Live came out, Weaponth of math Dethtruction thaw the name of thomeone who lived nearby, and they waited and waited for their target... but the target didn't thow! Tho they left lots of BOOM! thingth in his pidgeonhole...

[15:50pm] E. Presley's letter reached Bourbon Creams

Bourbon Creams reports:

Returning back to college, a dead Dangerous Dave checked his pigeonhole. Rather surprisingly, it wasn't empty, but contained not just one but two letters. Given that fifty people in Cambridge were out to kill me, it seemed that I was still loved by some. But wait, maybe this was too good to be true! The first letter contained some sort of metal contraption which didn't appear to do anything.

[15:51pm] Zarathustra didn't kill Bourbon Creams (because he was already dead)

Zarathustra reports:

"Pity is for the weak!" thought Zarathustra, as he prepared his fatal powder upon the lonely mountainside. "I shall show them no mercy, nor demand none." And lo the sun was low in the sky when, his art performed, he filled pouches with the poison and went abroad to make the weaklings feel his wrath. As he strode forth he proclaimed to the multitudes; "God is dead! I sent him a poisoned letter." - Thus Spake Zarathustra

Bourbon Creams reports:

The second letter read:

CU Krishna Consciousness Society presents

Yoga & Meditation

workshop on mantra, stress relief and the self within yoga for the modern age

Join us for discussion, live music and vegetarian snacks Guest speaker from the College of Vedic Studies

at 7.30pm on TUES 3rd FEB
GREEN ROOM, Gonville & Caius

Incidentally the other side was:

God is dead. And so are you.

Thus Spake Zarathustra.

[16:30pm] The three of clubs didn't kill sir reginald duke of chutney

sir reginald duke of chutney reports:

Just recieved a slip in my pidgeon from the porter informing me that i had a letter/package that I had to pay for. Went to the plodge and found out that I had a letter that some idiot meant to put in the ums but put in the main post instead. It was a blatant assassination attempt because I could feel the glitter squishing inside, so i put on some gloves and hacked it open over my poison recepticle in my room. (bin) The 3 of clubs - I assume this was their first attempt that they referenced in the other letter they sent me? Well it wss bad and it annoyingly cost me £1.20. My pocket was injured if not my body.

The Umpire considers this quite impressive, as the letter in question was posted within eight hours of the start of the game.

[18:05pm] Moose Hunter didn't poison Jon Jowett

Jon Jowett reports:

Received a poison letter after handing in supervision work. In a non-descript envelope, addressed very precisely. My care and attention in opening it went unrewarded as the vaseline had dried. Onwards to dinner...

[19:59pm] Jail house rock murdered Stephen Chester (Oook)

Jail house rock reports:

As I had not been doing very well at diplomacy soc. the past few terms, I decieded to improove my game. I had recently learned a very valuable peice of infomation regarding diplomacy: "If your enemy is dead, you win by default"

Taking this to mind, I loaded my CPS and RPG and headed of to the society meeting. One there I proceeded to kill anyone, and everyone who turned up (Just in case) leaving the King of Hearts to report the mahem.

The list of corpes follows: Stephen Chester AKA Oook
Patrick Snow AKA PC Mallon
Richard Mycrost AKA PC Mathematical Menace
Andrew Middleton
Adam Stevens
David Szwer
Arfie Mansfield
Colin Reid
Chris Aylett
Sam Stoken
And the soc. rep Julia

May I also add that after the deaths of so many, The King of Hearts disarmed and ate a tasty grenade - I was not aware that High Explosives were very nutricous.

Oook reports:

Ah, the Great Dipsoc Massacre of '04. There I was, harmlessly waiting for the room to be opened, when a figure lept round the corner, gunning me down before I could react. Jail house rock, the wanted killer, was my nemesis. His message for any police that may be listening: "Bring 'em on!"

I suppose I should have been more cautious, this being dipsoc, but I was expecting to be stabbed in the back, not shot in the front ;)

Chris Field reports:

The blood! The Terror! Ooh, you left Warsaw unguarded!

[20:00pm] Jail house rock killed Patrick Snow (PC Mallon)

PC Mallon reports:

I had known the wanted criminal Jail house rock was at large but when I left my room for a society meeting he had not yet embarked upon his killing spree and I was not to know what a danger he posed. As I reached the meeting room someone jumped out from the shadows and shot me, his accomplice pointed and laughed as my body slid onto the floor, what a humiliation. Jail house rock systematically killed every person who entered the building, managing to take out 2 police officers, at least one assassin and many, many innocents. Please will the police reply with a concentrated effort to take him out.

The deceased PC Mallon

I die, avenge me my brothers, for I cannot.

[20:01pm] Jail house rock killed Richard Mycroft (PC Mathematical Menace)

PC Mathematical Menace reports:


I was killed this evening just before entering the diplomacy society meeting at Robinson. I was shot by Jail house rock who was waiting around a corner. He then proceeded to kill around 15 others, and took names for his report.

[20:10pm] Pelvis killed David Proctor (Grytpype Thynne AKA Diogenes)

Pelvis reports:

After a week of attempts not being reported by the target i decided to make this one stick. Finding his door open i stepped in and asked if he was who he was. Obviously shocked at seeing Pelvis in his room he could only stand up and unfortunatly died when the bullet i fired hit him. He invited me (further) in and we talked for a while, which ended in him offering me a replacement bullet. I left, very grateful..

Diogenes reports:

Diogenes died today all because of spilt milk.

There he was, cleaning up the milk from his shopping that had leaked all over his table when he heard a strange noise at his door which in his hurry to clean up the milk he had left open. The assassin was too quick for him and managed to get a shot in his shoulder as he was diving for cover and reaching for his trusty sidearm.

Diogenes slumped to the the floor, his barrel filling of blood.

There was a smile on his face as he was about run out of competence anyway and had managed to fool a large number of his LARPer friends that he was not playing!

Always be safe when cleaning up spilt milk: lock the door and leave it to the professionals.

[22:10pm] Elvis almost died attacking 666

Elvis reports:

Hey Baby,

Ah decided to attack my next target on the list the Army provided for me. I figured what with wearing a large white jumpsuit that maybe subtly wasn't gonna be a good idea. Ah strolled right up ta the door and knocked. Obviously, shocked at seeing Elvis outside the door threw into a state of confusion and 666 pulled out some weird form of weapon like none ah've ever seen before. What with being The King an' all, whatever it was that this weapon fired seemed to bounce straight off ma chest. Ah've never seen anythin' quite like it.

Ah decided that before ah ma Blue Suede Shoes all mussed up ah should leave this Hound Dog and head bedwards.

Uh Huh Baby..

The King is Not Dead

Elvis Lives.

666 reports:

The king is dead.

I was just researching one of my victims-to-be, and scheming up evil plots to kill them, when I heard a suspicious scuffling outside my humble abode. Check the spy-hole: can't see anyone. What are they doing? Planting a bomb? Waiting to ambush me on the way to the kitchen? Ha! The coward in me reassures that I have enough food in here to last for weeks - I need never leave.

Then a knock comes. Quickly I look around me for a weapon - I grab my lethal three-foot fluorescent pink venomous snake....hmmm...maybe I don't want everyone to know I have one of those. I check through the spy-hole - he's gone now anyway. I go back to my scheming, but I become aware that he hasn't left yet. Another knock (damn! Why can't I ignore the knocks!). I quickly start to open the door, unarmed, but he isn't there (did he leave a bomb? Am I dead? No, I pinch myself to be sure) Must be hiding further down the corridor. Yet again he taunts me with his evil knocking, goading me to come out and face him like a man. Suddenly I form a plan, fashion a lethal short-range gun out of materials lying around in my room, throw open the door, determined to go out with all my guns blazing. Many shots were fired, his bullets narrowly missing my arm, but he was annihilated. btw, I have for sale a pair of second hand blue suade shoes, if anyone's interested. Offers considered.

Sadly, 666's counterattack was made with a water-firing weapon, from inside a no-water room. As this isn't allowed, Elvis remains alive.

[22:15pm] A cute little pokute killed James Revill (Melissa)

A cute little pokute reports:

A cute little pokute was journeying through the land of men when it happened across a sign. The sign spoke of the antics of its kind and naturally the pokute was intriqued. So the pokute wandered into the anime society meet. This is where the pokute came across Melissa.

Melissa said,"Oh, ...just a pokute".

This not being insulting enough to warrant death, the pokute waited and watched the antics of his kind. The material viewed was none other than graphic pokute-baiting... The horror The horror... Pokutes being a timid and reserved species do not let their emotions get the better of them so the pokute left. On leaving the pokute once again happened upon Melissa...

Melissa said,"Oh, ...just a pokute".

What happened next was too horrible to describe with words!

Tuesday, 03 February

[09:13am] Neo didn't blow up Sideshow Barbara

Sideshow Barbara reports:

I would like to report the tragic and untimely death of my neighbour and friend Claire. I also must admit that I have some responsiblity. I woke up this morning and lo, outside my door was a bomb. Luckily my door opens inwards and so did not blow it up. As i was in my usual state of lateness, I resolved to remove it later and merrily skipped over the detonater, happy that this fine morning was not my last. I then went upstairs to the shower. But to my horror, when I returned I saw the blackened body of Claire in the hall. Her ghost had kindly left me a note explaining that she her curiosity had got the better of her and she had set it off. So I live another day but my poor friend, will not, possibly due to my lateness.

Neo reports:

You are standing outside a very large building used for student accomodation.

You have: a bomb and a target list including the occupant of Room N.

You can see: a porters lodge to the east


You can see many seemingly infinite corridors in all directions.

You can also see: a porter looking at you funny


You choose a direction at random and walk along the corridor to the north. Posters line the walls.


You see a sign indicating the way to your target's block to the north


You follow the corridor some more.


You walk some more


You are at the foot of some stairs. Signs give mixed signals.


You decide you are in the right place.


You walk up the stairs. You are in another long corridor.


You see room N-7 ahead of you. Numbers go up to the south.


You see room N-1


You take a few steps south, across a landing


You see room N+1


You see room N+3


You see room N-1


You see a door covered in posters with no number between room N-1 and room N+3.


You decide it must be the entrance to a sub-corridor.


You are in somebody's room. They are asleep in the bed.



You retreat up some stairs.



It has a big CICCU poster on it.


You lift the poster to find the room number, N+1


You retreat round the corner

You hear: someone coming


You are pursued by a girl in a dressing gown with a bottle of shampoo.


You try to evade her without breaking into a suspicious-looking run


She goes into a shower.



You are confused!


You find Room N+4 round the corner for no obvious reason.


You find Room N+2


You find Room N.


Is this the right block?

You can see a note on the door


It has no name on it.


You steel yourself.


You plant the bomb on the door very carefully.


You run off like a girl.

[11:49am] Anton Collinski made an inconclusive attempt

Anton Collinski reports:

With my incompetence deadline fast approaching I needed to make a kill and quickly, so around midday I armed myself with my trusty brace of RBGs and set out to kill someone.

My target lived in an obscure part of his college which I had no idea even existed despite my fairly regular visits there, and after a long period of fruitless searching I finally gave in and asked a friendly bystander. Following her directions I eventually found myself in a dark and dingy alley stinking of urine which I walk past almost every day and had somehow never noticed before. Unfortunately the door to my target's residence was locked, had no window and more importantly didn't have buzzer system for me to try to talk my way in. I hung around for ten minutes or so in the hope that somebody would leave the building and I could slip in but the door remained resolutely closed, and realising that hanging around in a dodgy alleyway with my hands in my pockets was perhaps not a wonderful idea I abandoned the attempt and went to get some lunch.

I think I might try somebody whose room is easier to get to next time.

[13:45pm] Internet Reject left a letter for Moose Hunter

Moose Hunter reports:

I was left the least subtle poison letter on earth , it was trailing flour, I carried back to my room by the corner then gave it some gloved-attention. To whoever put it there... I know who you are, I know what you look like ... so pop back anytime!

[14:00pm] PC Kakariki accused of corruption!

PC Kakariki has been placed under internal investigation following claims that he may be in league with the serial killer Jail house rock. An informant, who wished to remain anonymous (it was Chris Field), sent in the following report:

I have evidence of the utter corruption plaguing the police force!!! Mr Edmundson is clearly seen here NOT KILLING the criminal!!!

[18:00pm] IFf's ghost was shot while reading Astral Surfer's poisoned letter

IFf reports:

You are floating ethereally in Caius College. To the south lie many pigeonholes.

You can also see:
Your pigeonhole
Two (many) CompScis


You are carrying:

It's a pigeonhole with your name on it.
The pigeonhole contains:
A letter inviting you to stand for a position on the college student union
A suspicious envelope

You take the suspicious envelope from the pigeonhole.

It's an exam in which you take in a large number of biros with notes hidden on pieces of paper rolled up inside the lids. The address reads, "Martin Lester, Caius". The sender obviously couldn't be bothered to look up the full address of the college, or to centre it nicely in the transparent plastic window.

You open the suspicious envelope carefully. Inside is a suspicious letter.

You carefully take the letter out of the envelope.

It's a letter that tells you when all your exams are. It claims to contain deadly talcum powder, but there is little evidence of this. There is a thin line of what looks like smeared Vaseline under the first fold of the letter, although it might well be talcum powder glued there. Only a fool would have touched it.

You take a seventy-three otters.

Thomas de Rivaz walks in, sees you reading the poisoned letter and bang-kills you and the two CompScis with his RBG.

You are savaged by the seventy-three otters.


[19:55pm] PC Kakariki ineffectively tried to kill the Umpire

PC Kakariki is hereby nominated for the unofficial "attempt least likely to succeed" award, for attempting to shoot the Umpire (who is immortal) in the Umpire's room (which is a no-kill zone) with a plastic squirty fish (in a no water weapons area) after having already been shot (by the Umpire).

PC Kakariki reports:

Well, its that time of the game already. Things have slowed down a tad, and I find myself a policeman earlier than I am accustomed to. Thanks to the dastardly Chris Field, details of a little 'arrangement' between myself and a certain Jail house rock have been brought to light. Sitting pondering my position, the only sensible course of action was clear. Shoot the Umpire.

I admit, my conscience did trouble me momentarily; Ric had looked so shocked when i shot him last term, and I thought to do the same to another Umpire might be cruel. It was also a little nippy out, and looked like rain, so I enquired as to whether it might be possible to send an email titled 'Bang', and call it a mail bomb. This option was rejected, as some previously mentioned biscuits were apparently much desired.

So, armed with no more than a small fish (no, I really DID have a small fish) I set out. I decided that I would give the umpire his little bit of sport, and not put up too much of a struggle as he tried to keep me out. To keep up the game, I approached his room from an unexpected direction, and pushed the door open to set the bomb off. BANG! Thank goodness for no kill zones! I sat and smiled benignly as a WildFire was unloaded into my chest, and then said hi and handed over the chocolatey goodness that was a packet of Bourbons. I of course asked and received permission, before setting the fish off and having a little go at killing Monsieur Umpire. As he is immortal, and in a no kill AND no water zone, it didn't work very well, but it's the thought that counts!

I enclose, of course, a little picture.

[22:00pm] Elvis tried to blow up 666

666 reports:

Seconds before I was off to dispatch one of my targets, I received a suspicious knock outside the door. Upon looking through the keyhole there was no-one there, so I proceeded to look under the door and detected a bomb-like structure blocking my view. Believing it to be a mere 2l bottle I got out my tape measure and opened the door from a safe distance using my computer extension cable. I am alive, there were no casualties, and I'm now the proud owner of a room with a view.

I believe the culprit to be an enraged Elvis, come for his blue suede shoes, but the assassin left no clues as to his identity. I will unleash my wrath when he returns for his detonator. Meanwhile, off for my appointment with the to-be-deceased....

Elvis reports:

Uh Huh..

Whilst walking through Memphis ah found myself at the house of a certain 666. Something told me ah'd been here before sometime. Just in case ah left a little package by the door. Ah always like to leave presents for ma fans and this one should blow 666's socks off.
Uh Huh Baby..

The King is Not Dead

Elvis Lives.

[22:58pm] Michael Cripps killed Joseph Lindsay (Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up)

Michael Cripps reports:

You are in the JCR. Some playing cards are here. Some people are here too.

What would you like to do?


Your partner looks at you oddly. The next player passes. Your partner bids one Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up. The next player passes.

What now?


You run at Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up waving your guns. He turns and throws a grenade at you.


The grenade sails harmlessly over your head


I don't think he'd appreciate that


He's out of range. Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up runs past you to get his grenade.


You hit him with a couple of pellets. He falls to the ground, dead.


It appears to be an unlabelled wallet.


I don't think necrophilia is really an option here.


The corpse thanks you


You go back to playing bridge. It is your turn.


Your partner looks at you oddly again. All players pass. Your partner lays down the dummy. You look at him oddly. He picks the dummy up and deflates it. He puts his cards on the table.


You lose 6 tricks and leave in shame.

You have scored 2 out of a possible 1024 in 12 moves, giving you the rank of Novice Bridge Player. Would you like to RESTART, QUIT, see some AMUSING things to do, or CRY.


Scoop Rinse Wobble Wobble Flush Your Tooth Down A Booth Mr Woof Whistle Thing Shark Up reports:

I'm dead

he shot away my thighs and I suppose I bled to death

it is nice here

there are virgins and raisins

[23:33pm] 666 didn't kill anyone

666 reports:

Went on a rampage. Visited all targets. All were out/asleep/cowering in their rooms. Am mildly annoyed, but sent one of them a nice letter to say hello. Hope they get it.

Wednesday, 04 February

[11:45am] 666's letter poisoned Jonathan Woollgar (A Fallen Minion of Yorck)

A Fallen Minion of Yorck reports:

It wasn't a bad attempt, for once. It was far better than the other 2 attempts I can recall. However I approached it with gloves so was still alive. What did surprise me was the technique: it was already open and as a result I got powder over my gloves and coat. I disposed of it after spending a very long time finding the disclaimer which was not obvious. Despite dusting my coat and gloves my decontam procedures were inefficient so I still ended up dead. Rats; I hadn't wanted out quiet this early!

[11:50am] Weaponth of math Dethtruction didn't kill Gho5t

Weaponth of math Dethtruction reports:

In the dark dark land there wath a dark dark wood
and in the dark dark wood there wath a dark dark town
and in the dark dark town there wath a dark dark place (where evil people lived!!)
and in the dark dark place there wath a dark dark archway
and past the dark dark porterth there wath a dark dark thtairwell
and in the dark dark thtairwell.. there wath a bomb!

Today, the Weaponth of math Dethructionth have been mothtly -- plotting! Plot, plot plot plot plot. And the new plan thall be the dethruction of all mathematicianth, pothibly through corruption to card-gaming wayth, pothibly through high power explothive..

Gho5t reports:

You'll have to do better than that!

[12:40pm] Caligula didn't kill G.I.Bob

Caligula reports:

I've got a little bored and have decided to go on a killing spree. I've killed an innocent and a cat just to get things started (easier targets than assassins). Encounters with G.I.Bob and PC with the Golden Gown resulted in their arms getting chopped off but they escaped with their lives. I also mutilated the corpse of Oook for my entertainment. More bloodshed to follow soon.

Oook reports:

Quietly eating my lunch, I was sitting opposite the much feared (by his friends)assassin Caligula. He proceeded to pull his knife, and with a mad gleam in his eye, went into a frenzy of bloodletting. With cries of 'Stabby stabby!", he then proceeded to incapacitate the PC with the Golden Gown, by stabbing him in one arm and one leg, before stabbing G.I.Bob in an arm, and killing an innocent civillian. He then carmly finished his food, before stabbing himself in the arm, and running off to look for fresh victims. Apparently, he wants to become wanted...

His wish, of course ...

G.I.Bob reports:

This is the end of the world.

Caligula at 12:40pm today made an attempt on G.I.Bob, albeit a rather pitiful attempt, by first stabbing him in the arm, and then aiming for the back. With lightning reflexes Bob dived out of the way and ran at top speed (0.2mph) to the nearest safe place to recover from the wound.

The League has fallen, and Caligula is the first to turn evil. After Bob inquired as to the design on the gun of PC With The Golden Gown, Caligula swiftly pulled out his kife [sic] and stabbed the PC followed by G.I.Bob. Each was stabbed in the arm, but where Bob fled the possibly corrupt PC stayed calm and continued to feast on entrails (oh, did I not mention that).

After recovering from the intial blow, Bob returned and asked for Caligula to agree to a truce, but was quickly stabbed again. Now he will know what it is like to face G.I.Bob in armed combat, who seeks not the Umpire's permission for the kill. From 2pm today, all who cross G.I.Bob's path will be eliminated. Whether criminal, police, assassin, innocent or vegetable all shall perish.

The Umpire may be invincible, but even he would have trouble stopping the bloodbath that will ensue. No longer will Bob focus solely on criminals, incompetents and targets. This game is coming to an end, and in the end there can be only one.

This is very true. Those who feel that Caligula should not be the aforementioned one are most welcome to attempt to prevent this. His details are now to be found on the Wanted List.

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

One of the many privileges of mastership is the sheer volume of free (or rather paid for by the students) food and wine.

I was just starting my dessert when I noticed a commotion on the student benches. A student had just jumped up and was rushing towards the high table. My bodyguards rushed to stop him reaching me, but he was still able to stab me in the arm and leg.

He had almost been dragged out of hall when he broke free and lunged at a nearby student. The innocent student was stabbed several times, in full view of the entire college. The attacker then escaped, leaving the innocent student for dead.

I immediately summoned some doctors, but discovered that most of them only knew about ancient history and strange mathematics, and were therefore useless medically. An ambulance arrived shortly after, but despite their best efforts, he was pronounced dead on arrival at Addenbrookes.

The college is deeply shocked by this incident, and I trust that the attacker will be brought to justice.

[14:02pm] Ptolemy was attacked by a random innocent, and therefore killed him

Ptolemy reports:

At lunchtime a couple of my friends (the deceased and his friend, Indie) were asking oblique and suspicious questions about my identity as an assasin. Later, when I was reading my emails, James Strachan knocked on the door. Fortunately my friend, James Berry, opened the door for me. On opening the door, Strachan thrust a pole-like weapon towards my friend. He immediately took flight and I ran after him with my gun, believing that he is the assasin from my college that I had heard rumours about. He retreated to his room outside of which I waited patiently and silently. For fifteen minutes although he was unaware of my prescence, he did not admit any of his friends into the room. Indeed he demanded that one friend flash a mirror around to confirm our absence. I hid in a doorway to avoid its all-seeing glare. Eventually, curiosity took the better of him and he opened the door a fraction to peer round. I took my opportunity to unload a round of elastic bands into his head and upper torso. He ended his life in the doorway, regretting his interference in this game of death.

Since the innocent in question was clearly making an attempt on Ptolemy, despite the fact that he was not in fact playing, his death was entirely deserved.

[14:35pm] G.I.Bob killed David O'Doherty (Caligula), and quite a lot of other people as well

G.I.Bob reports:

1:15pm killed Stephen Chester (deceased assassin), Rosie Robison (innocent), Pete Coldham (innocent).

1:20pm killed Ed Young-Lidard (innocent)

1:25pm killed Patrick Snow (deceased PC)

1:29pm killed Zoe Duck (innocent), Will Hare (innocent)

1:53pm killed Adam Watson (innocent), John Pratt (innocent)

2:07pm more intersting this time. Unfortunately I was held back talking to the corpses of my previous victims, and so arrived late for The Duel, which I had planned myself (oops). I don't know how many assassins were there, but no one else pulled out a weapon. I guess I just intimidated them all by having a weapon in plain view with my finger on the trigger and ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. Got bored and left at 2:22pm

2:35pm killed David O'Doherty (Caligula) by sneaking in through the room of Mr. Work-a-Lot. Overheard conversation about Caligula stabbing me in the arm earlier, got angry and killed him.

2:36pm fired barrage of shots into Caligula's lifeless body, mutilating his left arm and torso.

2:39pm killed Will Brown (innocent)

3:44pm killed Richard Mycroft (deceased PC)

P.S.: Bring it on. I will take down all who oppose me.

The Umpire thanks G.I.Bob for disposing of Caligula, but notes that the excessive collateral damage has resulted in his name taking the place of his victim's on the Wanted List.

Caligula reports:

I'm dead even before getting on the wanted list. G.I.Bob, not too pleased about me chopping his arms off, shot me a few dozen times (his arms had grown back). At least I got to kill that irritating cat though.

[15:30pm] sir reginald duke of chutney got a nice letter from The three of clubs

sir reginald duke of chutney reports:

I recieved a letter today from 3 of spade's ghost, sending me the money i paid to recieve his first poisoned letter. Who said that assassins have no ethics? Thank you 3 of Spades I am quite touched!

[17:40pm] PC Teepee didn't get Michaelangelo

PC Teepee reports:

And so it came to pass that I, wielding the RBG that was broken [in a freak cycling accident] and was reforged, came to the lair of renowned incompetent Michaelangelo. As I ascended the foul, creaking stairs, I felt as if I knew this place. A chuckle, unmistakably my own, seemed still to reverberate as if I had planted a bomb here in a former life or something.

Knocking on the door and quickly backing down the stairs, Bandúril at the ready, I lay in wait. The lights were on - but apparently no-one was home. I lurked for a few more minutes and left.

[17:45pm] PC Teepee didn't kill Ginger northerner

PC Teepee reports:

On my way back to my fortress, I also investigated the lair of Ginger northerner - nestled in the Magdalene labyrinth. After much searching, I found the building and steeled myself for the fight with the minotaur within - but the door was locked, and a quick lurk bore no handy people with keys to let me in. Bah.

[18:55pm] Edward Allcutt made an attempt on Neill Campbell

Neill Campbell reports:

having sighted Mr Ed Allcott during an earlier shopping trip, I was innocently continuing on my journey when a rider appeared out of the mist. His hand went to his pocket and emerged with what, to the unsuspecting eye would appear to be a standard bic biro, but to the enlightened is known to be a fearsome weapon. As I ran for cover and drew forth my rbg, the assassin sadly misjudged the pavement and fell off the bike. As this progressed, the knife was thrown but sadly due to the darkness, the many layers I was wearing for cold protection and the fact that I was running the other way and the other assassin still in the whole falling off bike process we were unable to ascertain whether the knife a) hit me, b) hit be in the arm, c) missed entirely.

Since neither was certain I spared my ammo and we departed the scene with both our lives reasonably intact.

Edward Allcutt reports:


Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

Instead of a bicycle built for two, what about no kinds of bicycles at all for anybody, anymore? There, are you happy now?

[19:27pm] G.I.Bob failed to poison PC with the Golden Gown

PC with the Golden Gown reports:

The life of a spy is fraught with danger. You never know what the next threat against you (or your innumberable doubles) will be or where it will come from. However, it didn't take much thought to realise that something was afoot on this occasion.

I was sitting at my computer plotting my next move against the rowdy students of Cambridge (and checking my email) when Miss Cashcard burst in. She informed me that she could hear strange sounds outside the front door.

I looked at the CCTV monitor and could see someone doing something strange to the door. Unfortunately, they left quickly so I could not retaliate, but I began my investigations into their deed in earnest.

Not knowing if the door had been bombed or similar, I left the lodge by the rear entrance. On reaching the door, I could see no bomb, but then my eye caught a strange white substance on the door handle. Analysis with my watch revealed it to be a deadly contact poison. I quickly found a pair of surgical gloves and some towels and removed it.

It is thankful that I was able to react so quickly to the threat, or otherwise one of my visitors or staff would have met with a most unfortunate end.

G.I.Bob reports:

6:58pm killed Natalie Barker (innocent) and Laura Cockman (innocent) for knocking on my door

7:27pm applied poison to Paul Fox's door handle in the guise of Vaseline Intensive Care (Essential Moisture) Cream

Thursday, 05 February

[09:00am] Weaponth of math Dethtruction killed Paul Scrivens (Gho5t)

Weaponth of math Dethtruction reports:

He left bright and early for a little light linearizing, but inthtead he found... meee!! In the corridoor, with a band gun. Mathematicianth 0 - WmD 1.

Gho5t reports:

Having previously decided that it might actually be a good idea if I went to some lectures this term, I was caught unawares as I left my room, cup of coffee in one hand. My assassin jumped out of the health centre and peppered me several times with an RBG. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted...

[11:10am] Blood Is The Best Lubricant's bomb was too late to kill Gho5t

Gho5t reports:

Having returned from aforementioned lectures I thought I might as well check my pigeonhole for the first time in several days. Imagine my surprise to see a suspicious pack of cards in there. Now no-one would give me cards in my pidgeon hole, so this had to be rigged... Seeing how I was already well perforated from my previous shooting, I was quite happy to 'innocently' pick the package up and subsequently had by corpse blow into smaller pieces by the 'cunningly concealed' cap detonator underneath. If I hadn't already been dead it wouldn't have worked, but why not mutilate your own corpse once in a while? Hmm... that looks far more dodgy on paper...

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

I think a good product would be "Baby Duck Hat." It's a fake baby duck, which you strap on top of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mummy duck and her babies, and you join them. Then, all of a sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla. Man, those ducks really take off! Also, Baby Duck Hat is good for parties.

[13:12pm] G.I.Bob killed Paul Fox (PC with the Golden Gown)

G.I.Bob reports:

12:28pm killed Catherine Watson (innocent), Chris Torrington (innocent), Tim Hutts (innocent) for looking at me in a funny way.

1:12pm saw Paul Fox (PC with the Golden Gown), took out my gun and fired five shots at him. At least two hit. He fired back as he fell to the floor, but they were ineffective glancing shots.

1:15pm killed Laurence Hunt (innocent) for being near my staircase.

Murder is a victimless crime.

[13:15pm] Blood Is The Best Lubricant shot Paul Cameron (The Haggis Hunter)

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."

[14:19pm] Ptolemy killed John-Joseph Wilks (Angelus)

Ptolemy reports:

I hid in another room. He entered to propose my joining the Mafia. I had left my friend in there who posed as someone with my name. I then entered, posing as someone called James. J-J told us that he had me as one of his targets and that he tried to kill me last Saturday night. He told us he would become incompetant on Saturday night if he didnt make another kill attempt and he also told us that his other targets were very difficult to find. I thought that despite his promise not to kill me that because of this deadline he would become a danger. So I shot him. He died and his ghost was extremely upset. I apologise for questioning his sincerity and I assure him that it was nothing personal, just that I had become paranoid after an attempt made in college the previous evening about the assassin in the college and so shot out of fear. I hope he can accept this apology. Oh, and I reject organised crime/Mafia and any techniques used to kill the Don of such an abbhorent organisation are entirely justified, I'm sure the Umpire will agree. Death to the Mafia! Long live the contract killer! Assassins of the world, DON'T UNITE! Its dog eat dog out there. I must go now to eat some dog.

Angelus reports:

Ptolemy had been emailing me for a while about wanting to join the mafia, and after failing to find him several times we finally arranged a time to meet. I showed up as planned, was invited in by Ptolemy, and sat and talked to him for a while. His friend James, who he said had been accomplicing and stuff, showed up, and shortly afterwards I agreed to No-kills etc with Ptolemy (by name. specifically.) Ten minutes later, after doing the normal things like trading targets, "James" pulled out a gun and shot me. After which they told me that they had switched places for the meeting, so he could kill me without getting in danger. I mean, OK, it was reasonably clever. But still, BASTARDS!!!!

The Umpire notes that Ptolemy is lucky Angelus was not planning to kill him, as had his accomplice been killed after claiming to be him, Ptolemy would have been made wanted for causing his death.

[15:20pm] The Eighteenth Century Enlightenment Duellist (Please play Handel's 'Sarabande' as he approaches) met a suspicious character

The Eighteenth Century Enlightenment Duellist (Please play Handel's 'Sarabande' as he approaches) reports:

I had an amusing run-in with an assassin today.
I recognised him from a duel we both attended last term- He's from the college next door, and I was returning from the stocking up of provisions at J. Sainsbury's emporium in the town. Both my arms were laden with morsels for the masses, and he looked at me in a very strange way, right into my eyes. I stared at him as I walked on, wondering if I was his target, and whether to drop everything, and draw, but I didn't, and gradually we passed one another.

As he went by, I turned around, only to see him turning around at exactly the same time, eyeing me with paranoid suspicion. I said, "Pardon?" to which he replied "Nothing", turned, and left abruptly.

An example, methinks, of the legendary paranoia that makes Cambridge assassins renowned throughout the world for their obsessive vigilance.

[15:30pm] Uncountable 4 visited Russ Williams again

Russ Williams reports:

Uncountable 4 knocked on my door again. I had several clear shots at his back with my BFRPG but wasn't sure it was a legal weapon...

[16:50pm] G.I.Bob continued to rampage

G.I.Bob reports:

4:07pm killed Sally Hunt (innocent) for no particular reason

4:23pm killed Edmund Owen (innocent) for not being a member of the university

4:50pm killed Jonathon Ng (innocent) for betraying Caligula to me. He dropped to his knees before me. I fired from point blank range, and missed. I got out a different gun, shot and hit.

Killing people is second only (in terms of enjoyment) to sex.

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet? And also, you're drunk.

[20:20pm] Michaelangelo killed Gordon Ball (PC Chronitis)

Michaelangelo reports:

My spider sense told me that the knock was none other than that of an assassin. Creeping up with my trusty elastic band gun, I pulled open the door as quick as I could, gun poised. Unfortunately my foot was in the way and it bounced shut a bit, and then I pulled it open again. Luckily, I think this may have confused my opponent, I shot him.

'did that kill you?'

'I think it went down the stairs and missed' he said looking down at his chest to see if there was a mark

So i shot him again.

[23:40pm] PC Kakariki killed Ed Saperia (PC CyberDog)

PC Kakariki reports:

Myself and my beautiful assistant found ourselves in Christs. Woopee. We recalled that a certain PC CyberDog had been rather naughty. Almost as naughty as me (teehee). And so we went to pay him a visit. It took a while of wandering round that bloody big typewriter that they call an accomodation block, but eventually we found his corridor. There were but 3 rooms on it, and stood round in a group were 3 people talking! We made use of a cunning, knee height window to peer in and confirm the presence of people. My stunning assistant (hey I HAVE to be complimentary, she's reading this over my shoulder as I type! :p ) declared that she didn't want to go wanted killing the wrong guy, and quite rightly too. It occurred to me that this was less of an issue for the wonderful PC Kakariki, so she swung the door open and I shot two of them. One turned out to be the corpse of PC Zoidberg. The young lady I spared, as I felt it unlikely that she was Ed. And that was that. The next destination on our (my assistant and I of course, not the afforementioned young lady) cunning and evil schemes? Bed! Night Night happy assassins!

PC CyberDog reports:

Idly chatting in the corridor with a couple of friends, I was rudely interrupted by someone shooting me. "Oh bugger." I said.

It's amazing how a couple of days of inactivity (coupled with the moderately accurate belief that most people don't care about you being alive) is enough to make you forget you're in mortal danger.

The moral of the story? Don't chat with friends when you're supposed to be working. It might get you shot.

Until next time...

CyberDog out.

PC Kakariki reports:

Friday, 06 February

[08:40am] kthxdie >:[ didn't get in

kthxdie >:[ reports:

wts? doorlckd

[13:07pm] Joan N. took revenge on Tom Woolford (Ptolemy)

Joan N. reports:

Tom Woolford shot JJ Wilks.

I met him today.

So I shot him.

Such is life.

Ptolemy reports:

I shot the Sheriff. But I did not shoot the deputy. He shot me, the BASTARD! Yesterday I killed the Trinity Mafia Don, J-J. Today, the revenge killing I had expected occured. I was trying to diffuse a bomb planted on my door when all of a sudden Joan N. held me at gunpoint. He tried to get me to sign my life away to the Trinity Mafia but due to my reluctance, he shot me, aware that as I was not a legitimate target and that it was in full view of three other people, he would become wanted. But I admire his readyness to give his life for an organisation just as I was ready to give mine by trying to stand outside it. I may yet sell my soul to the devil, but this time I tried to do it alone. I couldn't, and I died for my mistake. Trust no-one because when it comes to it, no-one trusts you. Bugger.

[13:38pm] Jenny Chase killed Russ Williams (A rabid squirrel)

Jenny Chase reports:

The lab technician gave me his practical details with very little hesistation, informing me that I didn't look like a stalking psychopath. Well, that's always nice to know.

I turned up for the practical half an hour, lurked a little unsubtley on the road outside and shot him when he walked past.

I also found out that I am the Five of Hearts.

A rabid squirrel reports:

Shot by Jenny Chase while walking to physics practicals in the Cavendish.

Am dead.

[14:03pm] Gho5t didn't kill Zarathustra

Zarathustra reports:

And lo, it came to pass that Zarathustra, in his travels, came across two mysterious artifacts. The first was an envelope, and holding it to his ear, Zarathustra heard the rustling of grains of poison inside. "Hah!" spat the prophet. "I shall never fall victim to such a simple scheme!"

Gho5t reports:

As the dreaming spires fall into darkness once more, I sense a soul waiting to be freed. I depart on a haunting trip to his college for a short while...

[14:04pm] La Belle Dame Sans Merci did kill Jamie Horder (Zarathustra)

Zarathustra reports:

The second artifact was square, and emblazoned with strange characters : 'CD-RW', '12x Speed', '700 Mb Capacity'. "Surely, this is a gift of great power!" said Zarathustra, and without hesitation opened the object. But a great pillar of flame erupted from the demonic device and reduced his body to ash and dust.

"Aaaaaaaargh!!!" - Thus Spake Zarathustra

[15:20pm] La Belle Dame Sans Merci didn't kill Adam Baird Fraser

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

On my way back to college after a morning lecture, I checked my p'hole to see if I was loved, and it appears that I was! One of my friends had left me a CD! Except that I don't have any friends... Becoming immediately suspicious I stuffed it into my pocket and headed off to a practical, forgetting completely about my present until I got back to my room later.

Peering through the little gaps on the side of the jewel case I noticed a cap detonator, so I carefully eased open the lid from one corner and covered it with blu-tack. Opening the lid fully I slowly pulled the detonator open, slid some more blu-tack over the cap and made it safe.

All in all a very impressive effort - much better than previous lame attempts against me. Better luck next time.

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

[15:30pm] Jail house rock killed another innocent

Jail house rock reports:

As I was walking home,
I met a man.

I met a man wearing sandles.

I met a man wearing sandles with his hands in his pockets.

I met a man wearing sandles with his hands in his pockets and who was looking at me suspicously.

I met a man wearing sandles with his hands in his pockets and who was looking at me suspicously and said "Hello, are you..."

At this point I shot him.

He turned out though to be an innocent first year who recognised my hair and thought I was one of his friends at school. You can imagine his suprise at being killed. I them proceeded to tell his corpse about our little game.

[16:30pm] Miss Teen Oklahoma's letter didn't kill A cute little pokute

A cute little pokute reports:

I received an interesting letter today, from a Joli LaBeer. It was a letter bomb with the bomb part looking like a camera and with the words 'personal safety alarm' on the front. It is currently sitting in my room having not gone off (yes i'm still alive) and you would be very welcome to come by and collect it. About the letter, i don't know what a silver ring thing is, if you'd care to elaborate on it in your next letter i'd be happy to read it, your effeminate hand-writing is not a strain on the eyes at all. Anyway, good luck with the democratic approach to raving lunacy, see you around hopefully.

Miss Teen Oklahoma reports:

When I was younger, my mom always told me that I was gonna grow up to be the prettiest girl in the world. You see my mom was Miss Teen Oklahoma before me, just like her mom before her. It's kind of hereditary, y'know. As an impressionable teenager she'd sit me in front of the dresser an' brush my hair for hours an' hours, all the while tellin' me 'bout the good deeds she'd done. There was the time she made a batch of girl scout cookies an' ate them all herself, making herself sick. Then there was the summer she spent a few minutes considering writing to Congressman Gross, tellin' him about all the awful things that was happenin' to the dolphins. I can never forget the time she first told me of her twenty six attempts to stop smoking. The thought that anyone should try so hard is amazing! Ma mom was a great Miss Teen Oklahoma an' I can only hope to emulate her!

Ma mom taught me the meanin' of empowerment an' that I should have the utmost respect for ma body. Ma red neck pop, on the other hand, taught me how to make bombs from plastic explosives. It comes in kinda useful ev'ry now an' again.

[20:00pm] PC Hawsker shot IFf's ghost

IFf reports:


You are sitting on a bed in a student room. The only obvious exit is west through the door.

You can also see:

A game
Some games
Many games
Yet more games
More-- (press return) games
The Game
Game 6.22
Quiz games
Extra games
Further games
Several games
The Other Game
Additional games
Pirate memory games
Insufficient cookies
Some sweets and drinks
JJ Wilks (sitting in front of a Mac)
Isaac Wilks (sitting on the bed)
PC Hawkser (pointing an RPG at your chest)


Saturday, 07 February

[10:23am] A rabid squirrel's ghost blew up Emily Luckhurst (the tractor princess)

A rabid squirrel reports:

Rabid Rodent Returns, Targets Incompetents. 19:46, Dissociated Press.

CAMBRIDGE, UK - In an exciting twist to our story last week, witnesses tonight report seeing a rabid squirrel posting more letters - but that's not all. "He was scurrying around with two envelopes, frothing at the mouth and squeaking 'inko'. It was unbelievable!", said an anonymous eyewitness. Further reports suggest that one of the envelopes looked to contain a letter and the other, much thicker envelope, was heard to be ticking. More news as it comes in.

the tractor princess reports:

i got killed by a letter bomb yesterday whilst innocently opening my post at home, wondering what exciting piece of mail i had this time. it was a rather impressive bomb, kinda scared my mother though. the bomb didnt say who it was from though and i would kinda like to know.

[12:00pm] Moose Hunter killed an innocent

Moose Hunter reports:

I regret to inform that after observing a "target"'s movements for some days after killing him this morning I discovered he was an innocent. I was working on a photo of my target found on a google search and I swear this guy is like his double.

For killing an innocent, Moose Hunter is of course made wanted, but as this was an unfortunate accident rather than deliberate malice the Umpire may consider redeeming him should he demonstrate his remorse by killing a sufficiently large number of criminals or incompetents. The exact conditions of his redemption will be announced after the court convenes tomorrow.

Aidan Robison reports:

It turns out that the innocent in question was a friend of mine, and the target in question was the now-deceased Nathan Bowler. I can sort of see the resemblance, but it's not at all striking. Kudos for owning up to it straight away, as I doubt Tom would have mentioned anything about it otherwise.

[12:43pm] G.I.Bob killed another innocent

G.I.Bob reports:

The game is beginning to get boring, so to spice things up I intend to kill many many people.

Saturday 7th February 2004, 12:43pm G.I.Bob killed Tim Hughes (innocent) for sitting less than a metre away.

Bloodshed! Coming to a lecture theatre near you early week three.

The Umpire notes that bloodshed in lecture theatres is unlikely, as they are out of bounds. But please, will someone stop this innocent-slaughtering psychopath before his bodycount reaches triple figures?

[12:55pm] Astral Surfer's target was out

Astral Surfer reports:

I had spent many milliseconds planning a certain means of assassinating this person who could survive both a bomb and a poison letter. However, when I got to his door, he was not in...

[13:00pm] Police Chief One of these days I'll actually get around to killing something, or at least being mildly threatening, all the Oxfodians doing their research will think I'm a useless wimp who can't actually play but I can, GRRRRRR! See, you were scared! Now imagine that coming at you with a donut in one hand and a sword in the other, and we'll see who gets the jam appointed as new Chief of Police

The Cambridge autorities are pleased to announce the appointment of the new Chief of Police today. The incoming Police Chief One of these days I'll actually get around to killing something, or at least being mildly threatening, all the Oxfodians doing their research will think I'm a useless wimp who can't actually play but I can, GRRRRRR! See, you were scared! Now imagine that coming at you with a donut in one hand and a sword in the other, and we'll see who gets the jam wished to issue to following press release on behalf of the police force:

People of Cambridge, you may sleep safe in your beds tonight, or indeed other people's if you're like that, not that we have any of that kind of thing around here of course, although there's perfectly nothing wrong with it, each to their own, I say, well actually not to their own, to the opposite, although if they want their own then they're perfectly entitled to their opinion and their... own.

We have been without a Chief of Police since my predeceasor had that unfortunate incident with a corkscrew, which just goes to show that wine and policing don't mix. However, I will shortly be contacting my fellow officers about a tactical discussion at a formal hall, if any spirited members of the public wish to be further spirited they should contact me.

I intend to uphold the law, throw the book at people and keep the streets clean. Anyone who wishes to bribe me with donuts will be made wanted, although not until I have obtained the evidence.

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

As the snow started to fall, he tugged his coat tighter around himself. Too tight, as it turned out. "This is the fourth coat crushing this year," said the chief of police as he outlined the body with a special pencil that writes on snow.

[14:06pm] one-three-seven failed to kill Ginger northerner

one-three-seven reports:

I went to see the Ginger northerner today shortly after two. I rang the bell. I watched some tourists with bright jackets punting in a very inept manner. I rang the bell again, twice. As I watched the ducks someone went into the buliding. I forgot to follow them but couldn't really have done anything when in there. I waited a bit more then left on account of my ears being cold.

[14:18pm] PC Corkscrew couldn't find Michaelangelo

PC Corkscrew reports:

Went after incompetent guy Michaelangelo today. Turned out he wasn't in but I still had a nerve-wracking time climbing his creaky staircase. Makes me almost wish I hadn't lent him that rbg...

[14:25pm] Sideshow Barbara couldn't find her target

Sideshow Barbara reports:

I asked if the target was in claiming to have a message for him. His girlfriend asked him if he wanted to talk to me he refused. I lurked outside for a while, standing away from the spyhole. All was quiet, i got bored and left. Ill return for him later. ha hah ha ha

[15:45pm] Adam Baird Fraser killed Nathan Bowler (Joan N.)

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

It's a dreadful feeling, the need. Sitting in my room, trying to work, and staring through a red haze at my mind's visualisation of death. Wanton destruction from my own hands. There is only one way I can quench my thirst; I need to kill, and yet each time it takes more and more violence to end the fight with my darkest side. I fear that soon it will not be enough, and I dread the ends that I may be forced to go to to find release from my plight...

After receiving a call from PC Corkscrew this afternoon I met him at the p'lodge and we made our way to Trinity, to the home of the wanted criminal Nathan Bowler. Entering his staircase we made our way up, meeting a friend of mine. Forgetting briefly that he went to Trinity, and hence being rather confused, I called him by the wrong name, but he still offered to lure out the target for us. Once the door was open and the way clear, Corkscrew ran into the room as I leant around the door and the criminal was thrown back by the force of two well-aimed shots. Trinity is now a safer place.

The not-very-innocent reports:

I've just seen a wonderful piece of deception at work resulting in the untimely demise of the last remaining member of the Not-A-Twinity-Mafia(tm). I should also point out that I'm not playing this term, but could quite feasibly be the Least Innocent Innocent (for many reasons!).

I was sitting talking to a friend of mine when I happened to spot a familiar figure wandering around in the court downstairs. Knowing him to be a) playing and b) not in Twinity, I knew immediately he was after the wanted criminal Nathan Bowler, who lived downstairs. And, since said criminal had killed a good friend of mine, I felt like being helpful to the forces of law and order.

So, I stopped Adam, and asked him if he was after Nathan. Sure enough, he was, so I told him I'd knock on his door and get him to open it. And, sure enough, Nathan opened the door. Alas, it was the last thing he did, as shortly after he was felled with some vicious shooting from the people behind me.

From this we learn several lessons: Don't open the door more than you have to, Don't open the door if you can hear more than one person, and don't open the door to the Least Innocent Innocent.

Joan N. reports:

I trusted a friend

I opened my door to them

Never trust anybody

PC Corkscrew reports:

Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the sun
We sought the room of Nathan B
We sought him out to end his fun

"Beware the wanted man my son,
the rubber band and CPS"
This man had killed the ones we loved
We wanted just one 'wanted' less

We took our guns and rubber bands
Long time the manxome foe we traced
Til one he trusted we had grabbed
And his great wooden door we faced

And as in uffish thought we lurked
We sent the faithless innocent
To open for us Nathan's door
And give him no chance to repent

One two! One two! And through! And through!
The rubber shots cleaved through the room
His rubber band flew overhead
Our rubber pellets sealed his doom

"And, has thou slain the criminal?
Well done to you!" declares Adam
And notches marked in plastic guns
And church bells in memoriam

Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gimble on a sunny day
Remember those who were not saved
Forgotten as they pass away

Blood Is The Best Lubricant reports:

I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.

[15:58pm] Adam Baird Fraser didn't find the tractor princess

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

After our earlier success we passed by Pembroke and approached the door where it is said the incompetent Emily Luckhurst spends time. Unfortunately no-one was home, so we shall have to wait until another time to dispense justice.

[16:05pm] Agent Corkscrew couldn't find Jail house rock

Agent Corkscrew reports:

Went round Thomas de Rivaz's room - a friendly housemate let us in after we explained that we were assassins (see? It does work sometimes). Unfortunately, he wasn't noticeably in. Oh well.

Note: someone left a photo of him with a "we know what you look like" message outside his door. I'm afraid we purloined it as we *didn't* know what he looks like. Have since scanned it in and will, of course, return it for posterity shortly.

Adam Baird Fraser reports:

Leaving our previous target we headed over to Harvey Road, to the house of the criminal Thomas de Rivaz. After lurking outside for a while we were let in by a friendly house-mate of his, but again were disappointed by his absense.

[16:39pm] Presley, Elvis killed Matt Farr (Matt F)

Matt F reports:

I was checking my pigeon hole this afternoon when I received a most unwanted piece of junk mail. My time as an assassin has taught me to be wary of flyers, and so it was when I peered into the back of the hole I saw what I dismissed as an amateurish trap-the part of a cracker that goes bang was sellotaped to the flyer, holding it in place, so that it would explode when I attempted to remove it. "Ah-ha" I said to myself as I preceded to disable this feeble attempt on my life. It wasn't until it was too late that I noticed the flyer had been smeared with poison.

[16:40pm] Jail house rock didn't kill a suspicious passerby

Jail house rock reports:

As I was walking into town, Some random guy said 'Are you Thomas de Rivas?'. I kindly told him that I was not and carried along my way. But as I walked further away, I thought that maybe he spelt my name wrong. Maybe he meant Rivaz not Rivas. Oh well, next time I can correct his mistake.

Agent Corkscrew reports:


[19:10pm] Pemmer aborted an attempt on Joan N.

Pemmer reports:

What a boring Saturday evening this is turning out to be. I took a walk out to Trinity... with my bag... full of bombs in the hope to bowl-out my target and wanted criminal, Joan N. I reached Angel Court and found three characters lingering between the two doors into my target's building. I thought that a bag with two 3l extra value orange juice bottles poking out the top was a little too obvious, especially since the words "FAKE BOMB" were visible. I ditched the bag behind a wall, proceeded into the court, and then walked around the college to come back out the other entrance.

Of course, Joan N. was already dead by this point, but Pemmer didn't know that yet ...

[21:30pm] Catherine Hall didn't get Michaelangelo

Catherine Hall reports:

Well, I didn't have much of an evening planned, I had a party to go to later, but I found myself with a few spare minutes. Looking at the website, I discovered, to my horror, that there were some incompetent assassins lurking in my vicinity. Deciding that this must be rectified, I called upon my eager, yet somehow lacking accomplice (sorry, but it's true. He means well, but. . . . ) we went hunting.

Calling first upon a Mister Michaelangelo, I informed my accomplice that he wouldn't be in. Since we hadn't even entered the building, he was somewhat in awe as to how I knew. . . . "Well," I said, "when you are as expert as me, you will know that scouting vital, and I know which window is Michaelangelo's. And since there is no light being emitted, he must therefore be out." At this point my accomplice fell to the floor, and worshipped my brilliance. I patted him, reassuringly on the shoulder, and told him, that with practise, he may become as good as I. We then mounted the stairs, and I may say, those stairs creak atrociously, making sneaking up, somewhat difficult! Even so, alas, when we reached Michaelangelo's, door, he was, as I predicted, out. Upon further wandering in Christs, it was discovered that the "Miss Christs" was currently underway, and so we surmised that he must be taking part in that.

PC Kakariki reports:

Another night, another attack. My apprentice has still not tasted blood since many nights ago, and we tried once again to rectify the situation. Our first destination was the lair of Michaelangelo, incompetent. As targets go not the hardest, but had already seen off a couple of lesser assailants and so would provide good training. Irritatingly, he seemed determined to thwart us by being out. A cowards way out if ever there was one (of course, my being in Girton as the SWAT team raided my Selwyn lair was merely a cunning and evil way to beat and befuddle the system). I carefully applied poison to his doorhandle (such as it was) and a bottle of wine by the door (not IN it, I would never spoil a gentlemans drink) - an unsatisfactory solution and one unlikeyl to fool even such a character as Michaelangelo. My apprentice naturally took no part in this, as her training has not yet reached the stage at which she would be qualified to handle such substances.

On exiting, we were sorely distressed to be approached by several men wearing short skirts and bras. I knew not what kind of queer customs these savages partake in, but surmised that it might be well to leave the location before being subjected to that evil Scottish 'BumSex' of which another gentleman was to be talking to me later that night.

The two participants in this double-act wish it to be known that they each wrote their report without knowledge of the other, and that readers will have to form their own conclusion about which is more accurate.

The Umpire also notes that the use of contact poison on a target's outside doorhandle is illegal, and the use of contact poison by police is also illegal, and therefore that the use of contact poison on a target's outside doorhandle by a policeman is illegal squared, a quantity of illegality so great that PC Kakariki cannot possibly hope to ever be forgiven for it. Of course, as he was corrupt already, this makes little difference.

[21:30pm] Police Chief Sir Oban Glenmoray MacTalisker KBE BA Hons (Cantab.) got drunk and tried to kill people

Police Chief Sir Oban Glenmoray MacTalisker KBE BA Hons (Cantab.) reports:

You are sitting in a room with a window facing West. You can leave the room via the door to the South, which leads into the main corridor of the student house, or if you are so inclined you can climb out the window, which leads onto a busy street at night.

You can also see:
Lots of drunk people sitting on a bed or on the floor
A computer

You hear a ringing noise.

You look through the door into the main corridor. The corridor runs East, but you cannot see what is there. You can see the front door, which is an exit out of the house to the West onto a busy street at night. Guru Sankar opens the front door.

You can also see:
Michael Cripps
Jennifer Chase

You get up and leave the room through the door to the South. A corridor runs West with exits to the North, West and East, while stairs lead up.

You can also see:
Michael Cripps
Jennifer Chase
Guru Sankar
Thomas Hounsham
Lots of drunk people.

Michael Cripps says "Hi!"
Jennifer Chase says "Hi!"

You say "Hi!"

You climb the stairs. You are on a landing which runs West and has one exit to the East, two to the North and one to the West, while stairs lead downwards. There are many photographs of John Haigh on the walls.

You are in the smallest room in the house. There is an exit to the East.

You can also see:
A bed
Lots of coats and bags
A computer
A yellow balloon with "FAKE BOMB" written on it in marker pen, but no other writing. You made this about an hour ago.

You pick up the balloon bomb.

You cackle evilly to yourself as you cannot wait to see the look on Jenny's face.

You are on a landing which runs East and has one exit to the East, two to the North and one to the West, while stairs lead downwards. There are many photographs of John Haigh on the walls.

You go down the stairs, trying not to fall over as you do. A corridor runs West with exits to the North, West and East, while stairs lead up. You wonder why your head feels fuzzy.

You can also see:
Lots of drunk people
Jennifer Chase
Michael Cripps

In your pockets, you are carrying:

A bunch of keys and various attachments, including a pocket knife.
A hip-flask, half-full of whisky. It was full when you arrived three hours ago.

You unscrew the lid of the hip-flask, and drink some of the whisky. It is fiery but smooth, and you feel a bit warmer. It is Glen Moray 10 Year.

What, the whole flask in one go? That's bad for your health!

You screw the top on the hip-flask and put it in your right pocket.

You take out your pocket knife and hold it ready.

You walk up to Jenny and say "Oi! Jenny! Mike!" Jennifer Chase turns around. Michael Cripps is talking to someone in the kitchen and does not notice you.

You are Police, and can only kill people who are armed, wanted, corrupt, or incompetent.

You are in a no-kill area.

The bomb is inadequately labelled. The Umpire will not allow the attempt.

For a bomb to be effective, the victim must do something to detonate it. Jenny has merely looked at you.

But you died over a week ago!

You stab the balloon with your pocket knife. It goes "BANG!". Jennifer Chase is surprised, but not very impressed. She is not dead. Michael Cripps laughs. Everyone else shouts "Two fingers!", and you are required to down two fingers' depth of what you are drinking because you popped a balloon. Your hands are holding a pocket knife and the shreds of a yellow balloon, but nothing alcoholic.

Which one?

Are you sure? You have already had a can of Stella, a few glasses of Chablis, and half a hip-flask of whisky.

It's your liver, not mine...

[21:45pm] Catherine Hall didn't get Ginger northerner

Catherine Hall reports:

Even though my accomplice, was heartily downcast, by the lack of success at our mission, I reassured him, that there was still another who we could go after.

We headed then to Magdalene College, and since my accomplice, numb-wit that he is, had failed to bring with him the address of Ginger northerner, it remained my task to go and sweet talk a Porter into giving us her address. That problem overcome, we went to go pay a call on the incompetent, my accomplice grovelling at my side for his foolish mistake. Upon our arrival at the building, we discovered that it requires a key to get in. My accomplice, delicate that he is was all eager to give up, but I am made of sterner stuff than he, and rang on some door bells, in the hope we could get in. After a couple of tries, one, finally worked, and I discovered that I knew the wonderful person who was coming to our rescue. He, being the wonderful person that he is was all eager to help us, and agreed to knock on Ginger northerner's door and get her to come out. However, unfortunately it appeared that she was out too. My accomplice burst into tears, and beat his fists upon the floor, I merely thanked the helpful neighbour, and slipped into the night, as a good assassin must. My accomplice alas, needs more practise, before he is as good as I. . . .

PC Kakariki reports:

We continued on to the abode of Ginger northerner, a notorious incompetent if ever there was one. However, it has since reached my ears that at the very moment that we were gaining entry to her tower, and attempting to breach her door, she was being cut down by a lesser assassin elsewhere in the city.

Irritatingly, no-one has provided me with any sport by attempting to kill me. I imagine my reputation is scaring them away.

[21:49pm] Niall Taylor killed the incompetent Diana O'Carroll (Ginger northerner)

Niall Taylor reports:

muh hah hah hah hah
I have despatched the dastardly, despicable, do-no-gooder (and now dead) Diana O'Carroll.
What have we learned, children? We have learned to supect everyone and to trust no-one.

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Produced at Fri Apr 9 00:31:25 2004