This is a story I wrote in a mafia in BrainDen in 2011 when the baddies didn't put in a NK due to inactivity. People refused to believe who the baddies were, even when they practically outed themselves due to frustration. IDK if I posted it then or not but I saved it in a word doc on my PC.
WHY THE NIGHTKILL DIDN'T HAPPEN By Auramyna
Once upon a time there was Slick. He was an experienced Mafia player. So experienced in fact that he would never think to out himself and certainly not out a fellow baddie! One day, Slick found himself in a game with inactives and n00bs..... and Araver. After a few days, he calculated the maths and realised that there was no way that his team could win the game. The goodies had got too lucky. He went off and had a beer with his friend mo. As they sat chatting, mo said "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"
"No", said Slick, "what are you on about?"
mo said "........'
Slick said "Oh! THAT! When you rephrased it I knew what you meant!
Yeah, I figured out, we have no chance of winning so let's keep shooting the breeze. There's no use killing innocent n00bs. Also, Drink Driving Kills.
So Slick forwent (past tense of forgo?) his nightkill. Unfortunately, KlueMaster either hadn't replaced EDM yet or didn't realise that he could powerplay the abilities so a kill was not scheduled.
The next day, Slick realised that the players still didn't realise who the baddies were. "??!?!?!?!?!?", he thought to himself. He sat back and watched them fight amongst themselves. But soon he started to feel sick to his stomach. "I can't watch this anymore"
, he thought. So he posted a vote for himself on the thread. This was officially the most blatant hint he had left in his Mafia Career.
But alas, the goodies no comprende. Too late, Slick realised that the sick feeling was a hangover but the post editing time had expired.
Later that day, Slick set out to the funeral parlor to arrange his casket and flowers. On the way, he passed the Mafia playing Hall. He peeked in and noticed the goodies still bickering amongst themselves and straining their brains unnecessarily. "What a fortuitous event!"
he pondered. "If I vote for KlueMaster, not only will I save money on my funeral and get the cardboard casket for Klue, I will also give the goodies a hint to put them and me out of our misery."
This time, when posting his vote, he chose a prettier color that stood out from the rest. But it was to no avail. He couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Klue in a hostage type position and said "Either you let us die, or I will kill us both!"
"Please!" said the players, "Let us negotiate!"
"Okay," Slick said, "what do you suggest?"
Well..." thought the players, "how about we merely hang you both in our town square?"
"Hmmm...." hesitated Slick, "It could work.....but......I'd be making a compromise.......oh why not....rules are meant to be broken!
And so it was. Slick and Klue were hung in the town square at midday. The players mourned the loss and moved on. THE END!
The next day...
some of the players said "Hey, let's go dig up the bodies. I don't believe they were the real baddies."
"But what about this signed and certified confession, framed and plated with gold?" asked the others.
"Yes, but those things can be faked," scoffed the sceptics.
"But look, I have here a photograph of them signing.......
and they're smiling.......
with thumbs up.......
and it's signed by the queen.......
and George Bush!"
George Bush, you say? Well then it MUUUST
it is THE END.