I think all of you are crazy, except for my little sugardumpling.
Most of all I think Ebfan is our killer. He's clearly not cultured and has no love for the sweet sound of orchestral music... and I think he's trying to take my woman.
Don't worry guys. I'm sure that they are just screwing around.
Now then, dispite how I feel about it, I'm gonna vote for T_R. Why? Natural instincts. Maybe it's just my linebacker gut feeling, but something isn't right.
kuhlmeye on
PSN: the-K-flash
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KeikaDelectable tea, or deadly poison?Registered Userregular
Don't worry guys. I'm sure that they are just screwing around.
Now then, dispite how I feel about it, I'm gonna vote for T_R. Why? Natural instincts. Maybe it's just my linebacker gut feeling, but something isn't right.
*waves kuhlmeye over*
That's an interesting choice of words, kuhlmeye. How do you know it's a "they" that committed this atrocity and not some madman working alone?
What makes you so sure we can trust these "natural instincts" of yours?
Keika on
"My fancies are fireflies / Specks of living light / twinkling in the dark." ~Rabindranath Tagore
Don't worry guys. I'm sure that they are just screwing around.
Now then, dispite how I feel about it, I'm gonna vote for T_R. Why? Natural instincts. Maybe it's just my linebacker gut feeling, but something isn't right.
*waves kuhlmeye over*
That's an interesting choice of words, kuhlmeye. How do you know it's a "they" that committed this atrocity and not some madman working alone?
What makes you so sure we can trust these "natural instincts" of yours?
He was referring to Spork and Ebfan, Keika, dear.
Burnage on
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Captain ElevenThe last card is a kronkRegistered Userregular
Oh my GOD! Spork is totally trying to get more of us killed! What a freak! He must be blind too, because Duna? Totally not hot. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being me, I'd give her a 3.
Oh my GOD! Spork is totally trying to get more of us killed! What a freak! He must be blind too, because Duna? Totally not hot. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being me, I'd give her a 3.
You guys are making a mistake! By my calculations, Zandacron only has a 13.7% chance of being the murder, based on current data, while Julius has a 13.9% chance! That's a whole .2% difference, which is significant in these types of situations!
Your precious science won't save us. Nothing will save us. Let's just sit back and enjoy the ride. AHAHAHAHA!!!
You guys are making a mistake! By my calculations, Zandacron only has a 13.7% chance of being the murder, based on current data, while Julius has a 13.9% chance! That's a whole .2% difference, which is significant in these types of situations!
Dude, you need to take a chill pill. Or get laid, one or the other.
Oh wait, no chance of that happening right? Am I right, guys? Whooo!
"Gawd, it is like, totally that creepy dweeb," exclaimed the attractive, if dim, girl.
"The bicycle might have a point," agreed the high school quarterback.
The sharply-dressed rich-kid nodded his agreement. "You're not wrong, you are most certainly not wrong."
"Oh, for sure," agreed the brunette cheerleader.
"Well, I still think it's the guy talking about horror movies," stated the blonde cheerleader. "But okay, let's call the cops on the babybat here."
"I ain't havin' nothin' to do with this," spat a guy in a leather jacket with a James Dean haircut. "This sucks."
"We have to tell the police!" insisted a guy with thick glasses, held together with sticky-tape. He even had pens and a ruler in the pocket of his shirt. But no-one was listening to him.
The cheerleader picked up the phone. She dialed 911. The group waited.
ooOoo
"There's no way this kid is responsible," the police officer insisted, before cramming a donut in his mouth.
"Yeah, we know his parents. The only thing he's likely to cut is himself," said the other representative of the law, before laughing in a really, really annoying way.
Zandracon hunched in a chair between the two cops, pulling his ragged black jacket around his slender shoulders, a look of vague irritation threatening to take over from his usual apathetic lack of expression. The Goth just kept his cool, and waited the half-assed interrogation out.
ooOoo
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the camp, Keika crouched in the darkness behind a very, very slightly open door. "C'mon, you loudmouthed bitch," The Snoopy Reporter Student whispered. She was in the perfect place to see that chick that screamed at the slightest thing, here. It was on the way to her cabin, after all. She was so intent on looking outside, that she didn't even see the glint of moonlight on the tip of an incredibly sharp ice pick, as the huge, hulking figure crept up on her from behind with impossible quietness.
ooOoo
The police left, and Zandracon said nothing. Not even an accusation, or a line of terrible poetry.
"Well, then," the blonde cheerleader said. "Whatever. C'mon, guys."
As they left the room, one of the girls screamed, and kept screaming. Directly opposite, outside the laundry shack, was a horrifying sight. Keika swung from the sign above the door, tied to the wooden beam by the strap of her own camera. Her tongue protruded from her mouth at an odd angle, and the hilt of an ice pick was jammed in the socket of one eye. The other was gone, just a ragged hole in her face, and blood stained her skin from cheekbones to chin, forming a puddle on the floor beneath her lazily swinging feet.
The Dead:
Keika - The Snoopy Reporter Student - Stabbed in both eyes with an ice pick, then hung from the rafters with the strap of her own camera.
Who is responsible? Who are you going to call the police on?
Vote in !Bold Red for the person you think is the murderer. Don't forget your post restrictions!
I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU ALL IT'S BURNAGE! LOOK AT THE EROTIC YET HORRIBLE THINGS HE DID TO THAT MAN! LOOK AT IT! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!
I know I was pretty suspicious of Keika yesterday, but that doesn't mean I'd have killed her! Don't be so quick to panic, it's going to be okay.
YOU ARE MAD YOU HALF WITTED BUFFON! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US WITH THE DEATHS ONLY BECOMING MROE EROTIC YET SUITABLY HORRENDOUS TO BEHOLD! CAN YOU NOT SEE THE HORROR WHICH AWAITS US ALL YOU BLUSTERING MONGREL!
Oh, ugh, I hate to say the sorry little geek might be right, but !Julius Caezure is totally a creepy flash-back happy perv. Wildcat, hun, do you think you could beat him up for me?
Hey, it's not my fault that I had a lot of fun in college, and honestly I'd really rather not be beaten up, thank you very much.
And so I was wrong about Zandracon, you have to admit that poem was kinda scary. But isn't all poetry kinda scary? You know what else is scary? Love. I remember reading that love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then it suddenly flips over, pinning you underneath.
Hey, it's not my fault that I had a lot of fun in college, and honestly I'd really rather not be beaten up, thank you very much.
And so I was wrong about Zandracon, you have to admit that poem was kinda scary. But isn't all poetry kinda scary? You know what else is scary? Love. I remember reading that love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then it suddenly flips over, pinning you underneath.
Hey, it's not my fault that I had a lot of fun in college, and honestly I'd really rather not be beaten up, thank you very much.
And so I was wrong about Zandracon, you have to admit that poem was kinda scary. But isn't all poetry kinda scary? You know what else is scary? Love. I remember reading that love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then it suddenly flips over, pinning you underneath.
At night, the ice weasels come.
Are... are you okay, Julius?
Umm, I guess so. Why? What happened? Did I miss something?
Glad to see your college education serving you well, creepy old guy perving out at summer camp. (I wanted to say something about self-medicating the company of your peers with Jack Daniels, but it seemed too mean)
Glad to see your college education serving you well, creepy old guy perving out at summer camp. (I wanted to say something about self-medicating the company of your peers with Jack Daniels, but it seemed too mean)
Posts
Good. Fear is our most primal emotion.
Most of all I think Ebfan is our killer. He's clearly not cultured and has no love for the sweet sound of orchestral music... and I think he's trying to take my woman.
I'm on to you!
Now then, dispite how I feel about it, I'm gonna vote for T_R. Why? Natural instincts. Maybe it's just my linebacker gut feeling, but something isn't right.
*waves kuhlmeye over*
That's an interesting choice of words, kuhlmeye. How do you know it's a "they" that committed this atrocity and not some madman working alone?
What makes you so sure we can trust these "natural instincts" of yours?
He was referring to Spork and Ebfan, Keika, dear.
More like you're a -10 and Duna is a 30!
omg. if I'm a 30, you're totally a 50!
God you're such a freak.
Oh wait, no chance of that happening right? Am I right, guys? Whooo!
!Zandracon is totally up for the paddling.
Like, what is like the vote count you guys?
Like, those guys are totally gross. Except for Brad, like OH EM GEE HE IS SO cute.
Zandracon = 8
Julius Caezure = 3
Burnage = 1
Ebfan = 1
kuhlmeye = 1
simonwolf = 1
SpectralSpork = 1
The_Reflection = 1
Verr = 1
Still to vote:
The_Reflection
Zandracon
God, you're such a ditz. At least we know that she didn't kill this guy, right? Wouldn't know which end of the knife to hold.
Narration and results PMs incoming shortly, after I have had a goddamned drink.
Nerds, man. Nerds.
Don't be so mean to him.
"Gawd, it is like, totally that creepy dweeb," exclaimed the attractive, if dim, girl.
"The bicycle might have a point," agreed the high school quarterback.
The sharply-dressed rich-kid nodded his agreement. "You're not wrong, you are most certainly not wrong."
"Oh, for sure," agreed the brunette cheerleader.
"Well, I still think it's the guy talking about horror movies," stated the blonde cheerleader. "But okay, let's call the cops on the babybat here."
"I ain't havin' nothin' to do with this," spat a guy in a leather jacket with a James Dean haircut. "This sucks."
"We have to tell the police!" insisted a guy with thick glasses, held together with sticky-tape. He even had pens and a ruler in the pocket of his shirt. But no-one was listening to him.
The cheerleader picked up the phone. She dialed 911. The group waited.
"There's no way this kid is responsible," the police officer insisted, before cramming a donut in his mouth.
"Yeah, we know his parents. The only thing he's likely to cut is himself," said the other representative of the law, before laughing in a really, really annoying way.
Zandracon hunched in a chair between the two cops, pulling his ragged black jacket around his slender shoulders, a look of vague irritation threatening to take over from his usual apathetic lack of expression. The Goth just kept his cool, and waited the half-assed interrogation out.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the camp, Keika crouched in the darkness behind a very, very slightly open door. "C'mon, you loudmouthed bitch," The Snoopy Reporter Student whispered. She was in the perfect place to see that chick that screamed at the slightest thing, here. It was on the way to her cabin, after all. She was so intent on looking outside, that she didn't even see the glint of moonlight on the tip of an incredibly sharp ice pick, as the huge, hulking figure crept up on her from behind with impossible quietness.
The police left, and Zandracon said nothing. Not even an accusation, or a line of terrible poetry.
"Well, then," the blonde cheerleader said. "Whatever. C'mon, guys."
As they left the room, one of the girls screamed, and kept screaming. Directly opposite, outside the laundry shack, was a horrifying sight. Keika swung from the sign above the door, tied to the wooden beam by the strap of her own camera. Her tongue protruded from her mouth at an odd angle, and the hilt of an ice pick was jammed in the socket of one eye. The other was gone, just a ragged hole in her face, and blood stained her skin from cheekbones to chin, forming a puddle on the floor beneath her lazily swinging feet.
The Dead:
Keika - The Snoopy Reporter Student - Stabbed in both eyes with an ice pick, then hung from the rafters with the strap of her own camera.
Who is responsible? Who are you going to call the police on?
Vote in !Bold Red for the person you think is the murderer. Don't forget your post restrictions!
Day Two will end at 10pm BST on Monday 22nd June.
*Runs off to barricade himself in a cabin.*
I know I was pretty suspicious of Keika yesterday, but that doesn't mean I'd have killed her!
YOU ARE MAD YOU HALF WITTED BUFFON! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US WITH THE DEATHS ONLY BECOMING MROE EROTIC YET SUITABLY HORRENDOUS TO BEHOLD! CAN YOU NOT SEE THE HORROR WHICH AWAITS US ALL YOU BLUSTERING MONGREL!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2UP86bciVA
And so I was wrong about Zandracon, you have to admit that poem was kinda scary. But isn't all poetry kinda scary? You know what else is scary? Love. I remember reading that love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then it suddenly flips over, pinning you underneath.
At night, the ice weasels come.
Are... are you okay, Julius?
Umm, I guess so. Why? What happened? Did I miss something?
edit: (and frankly, like a good plan)
Actual Edit: wrong button...