|-|--|TIME IS UPON THEM|--|-|
<<|>>Night 1<<|>>
Night 1 will end either in two days' time from now.
Playerlist
1) snackismybae
2) VigilanteVigoroth Confirmed ✓
3) TheWhoDoctor Confirmed ✓
4) MyWay21 Confirmed ✓
5) The Idiotic One Confirmed ✓
6) rssp1 Confirmed ✓
7) Alphajores Confirmed ✓
8) Drookez
9) bluearrow
10) Rabac Confirmed ✓
The truly awesome thing was just how fast he'd been able to recruit some suckers into his cult once he said it was a "secret society".
The Grandmason sat in his office like a lion sits on a piece of ground some other animal might want; he'd been given the authority from the bank to buy whatever he wanted without consequence with their new 100% cashback credit card offer, so he'd ordered a gold-gilded throne, a varied collection of high-tech latte machines, and curtains in a black and crimson pattern made from real horse jerky. Scarlet luminescence, blood mixed with shadow raised by the light, poured over the floor in waves of tasty wickedness.
He felt like he'd finally come home.
Before him stood the two Guardians of the True and Noble Right Pathway, his most trusted and only minions, one of whom he had planned take to wife, if only they weren't both so androgynous and it would be just
super awkward to ask for that kind of clarification.
Ah yes, thought He,
this was what life should be like."We are gathered," said The One.
"Let the Brick and Mortar of the True and Noble Right Pathway reign," chorused his Path Members in a prepubescent shrill.
"My hovercraft is full of eels," said He.
"I will not buy this record, it is scratched," they responded.
"All mimsy were the borogroves."
"
Expectant Maternum!"
That concluded the formalities.
"As you know, today, we have witnessed something rather unnerving. It appears that there are those who have formed themselves into a sacrilegious band of ruffians whose sole goal is to disturb our First Amendment rights pertaining to the free expression and exchange of our ideas. Worse, they expect us to listen to their own ideas in turn for our having 'burdened'"--he made an overtly sarcastic double-handed gesture--"them with enlightenment. Perhaps the greatest cause for concern is that they take offense at our recent attempts to assassinate the President."
The One turned to the jerky-curtain-covered windows and mightily bellowed, "Mind your own business, you ruddy-faced contrarian technocratic little Eichmanns! My cyanide, my choice!"
He turned again,
ahemed, and continued, "As I was saying... Ehm... What was I saying?"
"They don't like we tried to assassinate the President, our Pathiest of Pathers," offered an underling.
"Right. Irregardless, so anyways now they've gone and totally overblown the situe, and now they're gonna kill us all. Luckily the people of this good nation will not stand for this, they will not! I take comfort in the supposition that they will leap to the aid of their countrymen."
Dude, chill, thought a minion,
there are like, what, ten people in this town..."Irregardless"--he really liked that word--"This band who oppose us call themselves the Mafia. Well, actually, we call them the Mafia. Call them the Mafia. They're the bad guys."
"How do we know--"
"Do you want to try out the Boog Box, Mr. I'm-so-open-minded? Hmmmm?"
"Apologies, great leader!"
"Please. 'Great leader' is such a pretentious name, given to the likes of Stalin and Mao and Colonel Sanders. I prefer the more humble title of 'Grandmason Flaming Kickbutt Crusader for the True and Noble Right Pathway'."
They were confused. Silence persisted for an uncomfortable five seconds.
"Irregardless. The rest of our acquaintances will protect us, I am sure of it."
"I'm sorry," says a concerned citizen, "but who the blippity bop are the
Masons?"
"Aren't they those guys who are going to be killed by that anti-masonic whatever thing?" adds another.
"Oh, right. Right. Yeaaahhhh...... Killing is bad."
"Agreed. Off to the gallows! GETCHA PITCHFORKS--"
"Isabella," says the mustachioed godfather to his thirty years the younger wife, "I fear greatly that these Americans misunderstand us. We do not persecute these 'Masons', we are simply humble immigrants from a foreign land, here to make the road before us bright with hope, opportunity, liberty, and all that jazz, and we merely respect the leader of this nation as the face of freedom thus instilling in us a desire to foil their plot to assassinate him."
"Is pity," Isabella replies in the broken English characteristic of all stereotypically smokin' European chicks, "that they do not know of strange customs. We are all people, yes. We need love and understanding and peace."
"Indeed, indeed... If only we had compassion with our neighbor, even in this, the greatest nation..." The godfather trails off, deep wisdom twinkling in his wizened eyes.
"Is not land," Isabella spoke, "and is not people. Is in hearts and minds of all, this fear of strange things. No one is not free from this. We must all learn to love each other. Why can we not do this? Why can we not end circle of great hurt?"
The godfather nodded, consumed in thought.
Isabella nodded, consumed in lesser thought. She
really could go for one of those American hot dogs right now.
Contemplative silenced enveloped the scene like a foil wrap over a microwave dinner.
"Well, then, being the good guys was fun while it lasted. So who's our first hit for tonight?"
"Ooh, I am thinking maybe this one is good one..."
Pow! You've been hit by a smooth criminal!
