Re: M1025 Game Thread
Posted: Thu Jun 08, 2023 8:15 pm
DAY 5 HAS ENDED EARLY
FINAL DAY 5 VOTE COUNT
damo666 (4): pyxxy*, Fluminator*, Jamiet99uk*, Chaqa*
Fluminator (2): Bonatogether, damo666*
pyxxy (1): bozotheclown
Paul barely manages to restrain Prue as she screams and attempts to violently lunge around the tent.
"YOU FUCKERS. I KNOW IT'S ONE OF YOU!" screams the Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire, her glasses askew, her makeup smeared. She manages to break free from Paul and grab a prop baguette, assaulting one of the bakers with several solid blows as he tries to shield his head and face with his arms. "TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FROM! TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING REALLY FROM!"
Paul manages to restrain her again, wrapping her into a bear hug as she flails, "Prue, we need you to calm down! Calm, Prue! Calm!"
She continues to thrash, her chunky primary-colored jewelry swinging wildly. Then, slowly, she stops resisting and hangs in Paul's restraining embrace, panting heavily. Here eyes, though, still flash with fury.
"I'm okay. I'm okay, let me go." Paul tentatively releases her. She fixes her glasses and hair and jewelry, and wipes at her smudged lipstick with the back of her hand.
"I apologize for that outburst" she says almost calmly, straightening up and taking a few tentative steps forward as she surveys the assembled bakers, "but there are traitors among you and they must be discovered."
She walks down the center of the tent slowly, still catching her breath, eyeing each baker as she passes. "We've studied you, we've tested you, and yet... there are still two Americans here. They could be any of you."
She pauses and looks around.
Then suddenly she grabs a grater from the nearest bench and tackles a baker to the ground. She presses the metal sheet and its tiny, sharp, hungry little teeth up against his cheek. "TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FROM OR I'LL ZEST YOU LIKE A GODDAMNED LEMON!"
The baker, still in shock, stutters, "L-l-l-l-lancaster!"
"Do you think we don't know there are places in both the US and UK that share that name!?" She draws her hand back, spins the grater around and slaps the baker with the flat side before putting the sharp edges back to his red face. "LANCASHIRE OR PENNSYLVANIA? WHICH IS IT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" screams a woman who until now had been regarded as a paragon of gentility and grace.
"L-l-l-l-lancashire!!" he manages to spit out.
Prue stares at him. "No. No," she begins to mumble to herself. "No! NO!" She drops the grater and puts her hands around his neck and begins to squeeze, driving her grip into his neck deeper with each "NO NO NO!" Totally out of control, she continues to scream "NO NO NO NO NO NO!"
DAMO HAS DIED. He was Eustace Pemberton, a vanilla townie!
Night 4 has begun and will last one extra hour, with the usual EON at 9AM ET tomorrow morning. You may post.
FINAL DAY 5 VOTE COUNT
damo666 (4): pyxxy*, Fluminator*, Jamiet99uk*, Chaqa*
Fluminator (2): Bonatogether, damo666*
pyxxy (1): bozotheclown
Paul barely manages to restrain Prue as she screams and attempts to violently lunge around the tent.
"YOU FUCKERS. I KNOW IT'S ONE OF YOU!" screams the Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire, her glasses askew, her makeup smeared. She manages to break free from Paul and grab a prop baguette, assaulting one of the bakers with several solid blows as he tries to shield his head and face with his arms. "TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FROM! TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING REALLY FROM!"
Paul manages to restrain her again, wrapping her into a bear hug as she flails, "Prue, we need you to calm down! Calm, Prue! Calm!"
She continues to thrash, her chunky primary-colored jewelry swinging wildly. Then, slowly, she stops resisting and hangs in Paul's restraining embrace, panting heavily. Here eyes, though, still flash with fury.
"I'm okay. I'm okay, let me go." Paul tentatively releases her. She fixes her glasses and hair and jewelry, and wipes at her smudged lipstick with the back of her hand.
"I apologize for that outburst" she says almost calmly, straightening up and taking a few tentative steps forward as she surveys the assembled bakers, "but there are traitors among you and they must be discovered."
She walks down the center of the tent slowly, still catching her breath, eyeing each baker as she passes. "We've studied you, we've tested you, and yet... there are still two Americans here. They could be any of you."
She pauses and looks around.
Then suddenly she grabs a grater from the nearest bench and tackles a baker to the ground. She presses the metal sheet and its tiny, sharp, hungry little teeth up against his cheek. "TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE FROM OR I'LL ZEST YOU LIKE A GODDAMNED LEMON!"
The baker, still in shock, stutters, "L-l-l-l-lancaster!"
"Do you think we don't know there are places in both the US and UK that share that name!?" She draws her hand back, spins the grater around and slaps the baker with the flat side before putting the sharp edges back to his red face. "LANCASHIRE OR PENNSYLVANIA? WHICH IS IT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" screams a woman who until now had been regarded as a paragon of gentility and grace.
"L-l-l-l-lancashire!!" he manages to spit out.
Prue stares at him. "No. No," she begins to mumble to herself. "No! NO!" She drops the grater and puts her hands around his neck and begins to squeeze, driving her grip into his neck deeper with each "NO NO NO!" Totally out of control, she continues to scream "NO NO NO NO NO NO!"
DAMO HAS DIED. He was Eustace Pemberton, a vanilla townie!
Night 4 has begun and will last one extra hour, with the usual EON at 9AM ET tomorrow morning. You may post.