Personal Agenda Mafia
So it's the middle of the night and it's raining. Despite the cold and the wet, in the darkness between two bright circles cast by the street lights, there are two men lying on the side walk. One of those men is dead, the other is bleeding out and doing it rather quickly. As he lay there, Joe was turning things over in his head; running them over once more in the dying embers of his mind, but even sitting on the border between life and death he could quite work it out.
Usually the targets made sense. The detectives, the paramedics, the old guy with the gun collection and the military haircut; taking them out made sense. The foreigners with their gang tattoos and drug connections; taking them out made sense too - weakening the competition and all that. Mr Finks, though, was the town grocer. Just this afternoon there was a call from the Boss, orders to take Finks out. Tonight.
Joe had asked for time to do it right, like he had with all the others. He'd made them look accidental, natural and once, even suicide. With enough planning you could make any and every murder look like one of those, but the Boss had been adamant: Tonight. Joe wasn't quite sure what Mr Finks had done to deserve it: Maybe he'd ripped the Boss of at his grocery store, or maybe he's insulted him at the pub. In the end, though, orders from the Boss were orders from the Boss.
Gun in hand, Joe had waited just outside Mr Finks store - at least he'd make it look like a robbery. What Joe hadn't been counting on was Mr Finks needing more than one bullet to take down, or the flick knife he carried around for protection. Given that he was already dead and cooling in the night air and rain, the knife hadn't served much as protection; just a few more minutes, though, and it will have proved itself a perfectly good instrument of vengeance.
They'd search his house when they found him and the grocer tomorrow and they'd find pictures of the last seven people to show up dead, along with schematics of their homes and lists of their daily routines. It would be pretty obvious something was going on; the plan that had been in the works for years would be put in jeopardy. Mafia domination of this town should have gone down without a hitch, but now things could very well get messy.
Just goes to show what can happen to a perfectly good plan when you let your personal agenda get in the way. Joe sighed.
And didn't breath in again.
Usually the targets made sense. The detectives, the paramedics, the old guy with the gun collection and the military haircut; taking them out made sense. The foreigners with their gang tattoos and drug connections; taking them out made sense too - weakening the competition and all that. Mr Finks, though, was the town grocer. Just this afternoon there was a call from the Boss, orders to take Finks out. Tonight.
Joe had asked for time to do it right, like he had with all the others. He'd made them look accidental, natural and once, even suicide. With enough planning you could make any and every murder look like one of those, but the Boss had been adamant: Tonight. Joe wasn't quite sure what Mr Finks had done to deserve it: Maybe he'd ripped the Boss of at his grocery store, or maybe he's insulted him at the pub. In the end, though, orders from the Boss were orders from the Boss.
Gun in hand, Joe had waited just outside Mr Finks store - at least he'd make it look like a robbery. What Joe hadn't been counting on was Mr Finks needing more than one bullet to take down, or the flick knife he carried around for protection. Given that he was already dead and cooling in the night air and rain, the knife hadn't served much as protection; just a few more minutes, though, and it will have proved itself a perfectly good instrument of vengeance.
They'd search his house when they found him and the grocer tomorrow and they'd find pictures of the last seven people to show up dead, along with schematics of their homes and lists of their daily routines. It would be pretty obvious something was going on; the plan that had been in the works for years would be put in jeopardy. Mafia domination of this town should have gone down without a hitch, but now things could very well get messy.
Just goes to show what can happen to a perfectly good plan when you let your personal agenda get in the way. Joe sighed.
And didn't breath in again.
Game State:
GAME OVER
Alive
- * - number of prods this game day.
Not Quite So Alive
Note:
This game may have a number of third party roles such as: Lyncher, Survivor, Serial Killer, Jester... etc. It may have all of them. It may have none. It may have q21's personal concoction of such roles.
