Verbose Mafia 2 - Post or Perish (Game Over)

[Fritzler]

Pooky, be careful not to have seol vig you.

MIKE DIDN'T OBEY! HE'S PROBABLY SCUM! That's like 2 sentences. Maybe 4.

PS pooky you sure you don't want to sit at our table? 8)

We're pretty damn cool over here.

PPS

FOS: kelly

Bible thumping hillbillies will go down after CA.

PPPS hi thok!

[PookyTheMagicalBear]

Watching Fritzler stumbling around the room in a very dazed fashion after drinking far too much Tequila, Pooky quickly grabbed his friend before he could fall over a table and dragged him to the bar. Clasping a big hand around his shoulder, he waved the bartender over and ordered a club soda and 2 shots of tequila with accesories

"Now my dear old bud Fritzler, you've been going about drinking Tequila the wrong way again enh? I myself have just been on a business trip in Cancun to complete my takeover of several hotels down there and learned quite a bit about the proper way to drink this alcoholic beverage. See first you take this slice of lime and dip it in some salt, not too much, just get a nice line of it on the edge. Then you lick some of the salt off, take a shot and bite quickly into the slice of lime. The lime juice and salt will make the tequila go down much easier and enhance your enjoyment of this tasty beverage"

Pooky pushed the shotglass of tequila with its slice of lime and salt towards Fritzler and carefully dipped his own slice in the salt

"Do you want to make the toast buddy?"

[Kelly Chen]

Fritzler, your smiley face strikes me as a moral infraction as surely as mikeburnfire's terseness.

Please don't lynch me just for liking Jesus. People have gone to hell and burned for much less. Though I guess if you're at least listening to what I have to say (Word of God etc.) then I shouldn't mind being a martyr for the cause...

Maybe I can be better assimilated into this group if you try to picture me as "cool." Then my moral goodness might leak into you all through osmosis.

[petroleumjelly]

PetroleumJelly squishes her hands together in delight, as she watches the romance between Pooky and Adele unfold. At least until some drunk crashes about noncoherently yelling of sentences, scum, and Vigilantes.

Finally finding the salt, and tossing it nonchalantly to (at) Seol, she turned to Fritzler, who was now being led towards the bartender by Pooky.. "And just what on

Heaven and Earth

are you talking about, young man?", she said, slapping his wrist with a ruler while walking alongside him. "What is this rubbish about only speaking two sentences and obeying 'rules'? Why if it weren't for... oh my, that is quite a nice table, though. The old tables are always the best, if you ask me."

Distracted, she wanders over to the table and sits down next to Turbovoler.

[PookyTheMagicalBear]

Calmly wonders if Kelly is trying to get his good friend Fritzler into trouble by mentiong the smiley. Takes out his palm pilot and jots it down under his notes section.

"It'd be hardly fair of you to criticize a man for his actions when he's in such a drunken state. Though I do wonder what you mean by leaking your moral goodness into us by osmosis. Surely you know that refers to the movements of water? If you have a large bottle of holy water blessed by a dying Pope somewhere hidden under your skirts I'd hope you'd keep it to yourself, this is after all a 60,000 dollar Armani suit and I'd hate to get it wet. Even if it is with holy water blessed by the last words of a dying Pope."

[Fritzler]

See first you take this slice of lime and dip it in some salt, not too much, just get a nice line of it on the edge.

My best lines are still off of dead hooker's tits.

Begins making a toast.

I'd like to make a toast to pooky and adele's marriage. Seriously. What better union of a brit and magical bear could you ask for? I mean seriuosly, this will establish, a great link between the brits, and the huggle buddies, and they will probably be able to challenge the klingons for intergalactic war with this new line, in both of their prominent families. I hope I can marry into the family, so I can see the crazy christmas's and what not.

@ Kelly, seriously is the lady in sweater going to tell the man in the 60,000 dollar suit who to lynch? (turbo should get that).

[DrippingGoofball]

DrippingGoofball sat in her lonely corner, perplexed, her mind meandering as it pondered the unusual set of circumstances that lead her to be so completely ignored.

Generally, her immense eyes, strikingly unequal, widely set on a colossal purple head guaranteed odd stares and a few muffled whispers, the occasional impertinent child slapped by a well-meaning mother with a warning not to stare.

The Goofball continued to sip on her Strawberry Daiquiri, the loudest, most colorful drink on the list. "Criminy," she thought to herself, "who the bloody hell took these photos? May I be struck by lightning if it's not some religious fanatics?"

Even in the privacy of her own mind, she stopped herself from thinking in a politically incorrect way. "I respect people's religions," she tried
to convince herself "yes, I have the utmost respect for all the people that believe in that crazy horseshit."

She repressed a bit of laughter and an alcohol-laden burp.

A highly fragrant little fart, for she has been eating a bit too much fiber lately, had a mind of its own, and could not be contained.

A minute or two later, people finally were beginning to look in her direction, nose twitching.

Well hello, everyone!

[Turbovolver]

Turbovolver notices PetroleumJelly sit down, but only nods to her. He seems to be far more interested in the words of Kelly Chen, which have him scowling slightly. He also shows disapproval of Pooky, who seems to do nothing but brag of his riches. Finally he turns to look at PetroleumJelly, asking

So what's your name?

He raises his glass to Fritzler's toast, though mainly out of politeness. Seeing DrippingGoofBall, he waves to her, but quickly turns back to the person sitting next to him.

[petroleumjelly]

Slipping the ruler back into the depths of her clothes, PetroleumJelly cocks her head at the curious question set before her.

"My

true

name, dear? Why, I had best not say what it is for the time being: we can't know who to trust in such times."

She picks up a half-full glass to tequila and grimaces. "I believe this one's yours, Turbovolver..." Picking up a second glass, she continues: "The other one's... er... someone else's."

Thinking little of it, she tosses the glassful of tequila someplace towards the corner, where is crashes before DrippingGoofball's feet. Turning towards encephalitic figure, PJ's nose wrinkles in olfactory disgust. "I

hate

the smell of spilled alcohol", she laments. "And flatus, for that matter."

[DrippingGoofball]

Goofball waves Turbovolver absent-mindedly... mostly she is preoccupied with the general malaise she feels, being a woman in a man's body. In reality, she is a physically handsome man, her carriage erect and firm. No one but herself knows of her deep gender confusion. DrippingGoofball was merely a persona, a mask she would use, unbeknownst to anyone in his family and social circle, to conceal her masculinity, the virile world she was forced to live in.

Just as someone drops tequila has her feet, Goofball has an epiphany: to make a sustained effort to think of herself as a man and live with the body that she has; Goofball is a "he" and from this point onward, fully assumes what his anatomy dictates.

Or, as the nuts would say, "the body God gave him."

Sorry, I've been experimenting with vegetarianism, but I think all the beans and sprouts and vegetables are better left to rabbits.

I have presented you with indirect, olfactory proof that we did not evolve to eat a large proportion of such indigestible material.

[Turbovolver]

Is it just me or are these people ever slightly mad?

Turbovolver muses, half to himself. He remembers how he too used to be crazy, and suddenly images from his eventful past flash into his mind. He remembers the firebombs, and links the threat against his home to the current threat - those photos. He suddenly becomes far more paranoid about everyone else in the room, and his posture shifts to one more reserved.

Relax...

Turbovolver says to himself

.

[PookyTheMagicalBear]

Pooky raises his glass to his friend's toast and quickly downs the shot of tequila. Then his mind does a quick double take and he almost coughs up the drink. Married!? Pooky!? Quickly Pooky's mind does a quick review of activities so far as he had no idea he was married. Woke up at 7, brushed teeth, flossed, used mouthwash, read the newspaper while jogging outside with the dog, ate breakfast, got into mysterious limousine, showed up at room, looked over the guests, pour a drink for Adele, did some shots with Fritzler... nope no marriage. Hmm, could Pooky have accidentally gotten himself into a marriage in some drunken stupor that he'd forgotten about? Pooky decides that Fritzler's probably had too much to drink and that he probably hasn't done anything too silly yet, married before Day 1 started? Surely not!

[Fiasco]

Fiasco, still in a state of shock, finds the nearest tap and fills himself a glass of nice, safe water. He sits down on a chair in a corner of the room, gathering his thoughts, trying to observe the motions of the other guests, hoping to gauge their intentions. What are all these other masked people doing here? Why are they so calm, so confident, so focused on their food and drinks and pleasantries? Perhaps they do not realize they have been blackmailed -- or perhaps they know something he does not?

Fiasco gets up and tries, cautiously, to discuss his absurd situation with various people.

Fritzler, Cogito Ergo Sum, Seol, Kelly Chen, and anyone I may have overlooked... you speak of "lynching"? This, combined with the strange abduction, worries me greatly. Mr. Gray and Mr. Green seem to have "invited" themselves a rather strange collection of verbose "guests"! I understand that you're very religious; it's just, Kelly, please be open-minded, because the current predicament all of us seem to have landed in looks rather more urgent. And Cogito... what is this about talking lemons? I have never heard of such a thing. Good sir, I bite my Netherlands at thee!

[mikeburnfire]

MIKE DIDN'T OBEY! HE'S PROBABLY SCUM! That's like 2 sentences. Maybe 4.

Mike's eye twitched. He was trying to pretend that this was a normal trip and that nothing would dastardly would happen, but Fritzler was shaking his nerves by accusing him of evil deeds before any evidence of wrongdoing was apparent. Mike tried to ignore him, but he was getting suspicious glances from everybody else. He decided to speak up...

Stop digging through my mind, Fritz. Besides... I believe that another rule was that any and all broken rules within this context were to be privately discussed with our host and not brought out into the open. Not only is it hypocritical of you to boast my faults to make yourself look better by comparison, but it's also very bad manners.

Mike felt very confident for defending himself and went back to his drink. But for some reason he wasn't thirsty anymore. The smell of rotting eggs was making his stomach churn. He cast an dirty glance in DrippingGoofball's direction.

[Tamuz]

Tamuuz's totally awesome pink razor finally dies on her cutting her off from the world. The world... everyone she knows, and all those that love her

"Gawd, you think for once, just ONCE there could be a phone that wouldn't die until I do! Hmph."

Tamuz looks around from the doorway in which she was standing. None of these so called men were suiting of her, especially the crazed ones acting like children with alchohol and the run of their parent's house.

"Well, Daddy always said that knowledge is the best weapon, and with all this speak of death, I'm unsure I want to mix with such immature and criminal minds."

With another hoity utterance Tamuz locates a spare chair near the center of the room, although not in the focal point of the room. She sits in the chair with a dry cosmopolitan that she acquired and sits, and listen. Siddhartha would be proud!

[the silent speaker]

The silent speaker is sitting in a quiet corner, sippping a schnapps. He's been there the whole time; you just haven't seen him. At Fiasco's comment to CES he arches an eyebrow.

If you're going to bite your Netherlands at him, might I suggest you two head for the side rooms first?

Murmured quietly:

Note to self: don't let Fritzler near any pointy objects.

He raises his glass and his voice at the toast.

Cheers to the happy couple. Good to know

someone

is thinking of better things than how soon the guests can be massacred.

[Fritzler]

Man this shit is nucking futs. I mean seriously it is crazy.

Fritz downs another shot of tequilla, and looks at CA

You know what you are man? Scucking Fum. Or cum. Or something like that. Seriously man, I'm gonna take you, and I gonna kill you so bad, that, you gonna...wish you weren't so killed. Seriously.

Fritz points at the happy couple, and makes some obscene humping motions like will ferell in Wedding Crashers.

Seriously, im glad you two got together. you two are really special to me, just don't be worried when pooky cheats on you with every huggle buddy known to man adele, k?

Fritz throws something at CA

[DrippingGoofball]

DrippingGoofball sips a bit more of his Strawberry Daiquiri, this time concerned about its fiber content.

DrippingGoofball had no love for God. He was so saving of mercy, so extravagant in murder, so anxious to kill, so ready to assassinate, that he hated him with all his heart. This God visited the people with pestilence, saw babes starving on the empty breasts of pallid mothers, heard the sobs, saw the tears, the sunken cheeks, the sightless eyes, the new made graves, and remained as pitiless as the pestilence.

He knew he could not trust a fictitious deity to sort out his blackmail problem. He knew that if he died, he would return to dust, and leave no eternal soul behind.

DrippingGoofball was very much intent on continuing to live. He continued to sit quietly, though he could be detected with senses other than sight and hearing. He felt it was safer to look about, than expose his thoughts.

[Thok]

Fritzler, I must say that your enthusiasm has touched me; I must remember to invite you the next time I go chasing deer in the States, as I'd imagine you'd enjoy the thrill of the hunt.

Looking in the corner, I notice the one called "Dripping Goofball". While I have not had the pleasure (or terror?) of dealing with her before, I have dealt with several of her associates, and her reputation proceeds her.

One of the participants mentioned something about practicing French. Alas, in my business I have little use for that language. Perhaps if she had mentioned Chinese or Hebrew instead.

Strangely the influential mathcam has not yet arrived. In anticipation of his arrival, I grab a couple pieces of bread and some of the nearby spread. I chuckle in anticipation of his arrival.

[Commodore Amazing]

I would like to take this opportunity to ignore all of your death threats, flattery, and thrown objects.

Commodore Amazing grabs a drink that rhymes with "boo-driver" and sits next to the silent speaker

.

I'd like to apologize for being a little late for the toast. I will offer my own:

May we never forget where we have come from. The Wizard of Oz wasn't always a pig replicator; it was only through perseverance that he rose from his position as Manufacturer of Imported Holes for American Swiss Cheese. So shall we go from our humble beginnings to a grand future.

The Commodore bites his fingernails in anticipation of the illustrious Werebear.

[LoudmouthLee]

LML enters the party suddenly, and with much gusto.

Oh, happy day! Oh glorious ponderances! Wonder of wonder. Miracle of miracles!

LML knows many people tend to get annoyed with him when he gets too excited

Shall I coutinue to be happy and thrilled, or shall I let this perplexing matter continue to eat away at me from the inside?

LML sighs deeply...

Live and let live. It is indded a party, right? Let us drink in the honor of us all. I'm ready to partake in some spirits.

Who has the glass ready for LML?

[VitaminR]

VitaminR sulks in the corner. He is used to being the centre of attention. Turbo getting intro music was the last straw. It was good tacky and annoying rock too!

YEAH! LET'S PARTY!

Largely ignored, VitaminR turns to a bottle of something cheap and strong. Musing about the connection between lemons and lemmings, he totters about shakily. He winks suggestively at the wall and collapses onto the floor.

[SpamWise]

SpamWise confirms that he has received his role, at the same time ignoring what everyone else is saying

.

OMG It's Turbovolver!

SpamWise orders some coke, as he is the designated driver for tonight.

So... how about that local sports team?

Just as a sidenote, who likes Stevie Ray Vaughn? I got some of his stuff today, and it's just incredible.

[Cogito Ergo Sum]

Alas, I've never heard of "Stevie Ray Vaughn".

My, my, you're all just a bunch of alcoholics, aren't you? I'll just take a glass of water, as pure as the springs of Saint Helene. And it will be good. I will have the last laugh, I assure you. No mortal can stop me.

[Adele]

Adele stared at horror and disgust at Pooky.

Do you call me womanly, sir? I would thank you to withdraw such comments, before I demand satisfaction...

Suddenly, Adele notices that the mask presents a female demeanor, and, strangely, a shapely form in a stunning gown appeared to be his... her? body. How strange. Perhaps it related to those dreadful pictures. Very well, then. It did at least offer the oportunity to get to know this gentleman in a public forum without attracting suspicions...

...Ah...heh... I mean, you think I'm pretty? I'm flattered! Tell me more, good gent. I'm sure you have fascinating tales of how you earned the money you've spent.