Luigi was performing his daily morning routine when he noticed something strange on the front page of the newspaper. There was a picture of a crime scene, apparently someone had been run over by a car yesterday.
"Gee, I sure hope he feels better." Luigi said, not realizing that Bogdanov could no longer feel anything.
Remembering that he had gotten distracted by ice cream yesterday, he decided to head out to the supermarket once again to receive his medication.
After some time, Morgan when inside to start mopping Aisle 16, some time passed and while he was finishing up, he heard a "Wah Hoo!"
Confused, Morgan walked to the front and he saw a Middle Aged fat Italian man in Overalls.
And who was that besides him? A man in Green Overalls from the Icecream shop...turns out Morgan can't see properly at all, turns out the middle aged fat Italian man was actually his boss.
The Boss was quite angry after Morgan went on Speaker and said "OH DAMN, THERE IS AN ITALIAN, RUN, RIGHT NEXT YOU GREEN MAN" while pointing at him.
To make it less suspicious he went to Luigi and started to talk to him so Morgan looked important.
"Hey..uh....Green....Lug....Lugi, yeah Lugi, uhm, what do you need help with?"
[t]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a4/Salon_du_livre_de_Paris_2011_-_Igor_Bogdanov_-_003.jpg[/t]
Igor awoke from his 24 hour slumber. He stubbed his cigar out on his nose. He [I]knew[/I] something was wrong. Brother Grichka hadn't communicated with him via echolocation last night. Very bad. Very very bogdanbad.
In a flash, setting the land speed record for human teleportation in the process, Igor was at the crime scene. He stubbed his cigar out on his nose again, but accidentally shoved it up his cloaca, shrinking away at the horrible sight. The sight of what used to be his brother. His partner. His love. His rival. His lover. His friend. His sweet. His partner in crime. His cohort. His nemesis. His buddy. His guy. His tutor. His student. His master. His friend.
"Bogdanbrother... what have they done to you?"
In the pile of stale botulinum, Igor pawed. He found something, very very interesting. Or was it? It was. A single bogdanbot. Starved and alone. He stroked its head, caressing the poor little robot.
"The last shred of my brother. I will never forget you. Brother..."
Igor crushed the robot in his fingers. Letting its shrill screams fill his ears, much like the botulinum had filled his ears all those millennium ago. If Igor had the power to sport a glorious erection on his own.... he would. His brother regulated that part of him, as he did with his brother. Not anymore.
"Forever flaccid... forever more."
Igor whispered to himself. in a second, setting the land speed record for human teleportation in the process, Igor had a newspaper in his hand. He scanned it closely, like an Arstotzkan border inspector. A discrepancy had been detected.
"Wenceslas? That was not Wenceslas... that was Grichka. Why would those filthy journalists lie?"
Igor thought for a moment.
"Ah, yes.... the GM is too much of a [I]pussy ass mothafucka[/I] to acknowledge that I'm playing as his least favourite meme. That must be it."
As the day progressed and Dimitri defied the unbenevolent being that controls this game, everyone involved began feeling something; this feeling that they had to be somewhere right now, accusing each other and voting.
Meanwhile, an old man carrying a box began wondering where he should put down this red box with a slot on top of it. He considered the Casa Italiania, and the BNGS, but he realized that he couldn't just plop this box at either of these places, so he walked into Mr. Marmalade's ice cream store and placed it onto one of the tables there.
[Sorry for the slight delay, but it is voting time now! As stated in the OP, you send me your guess by PM. If you guys got together at one place, it would make it easier to transition to the voting and execution.]
Mr. Marmalade watched as the old man entered his store, expecting another customer.
"Good morning sir, how can i help you?".
He watched as the man did not answer and dropped a box in his shop. Was it a bomb? Was it somekind of disembodied head? He did not know but he knew what he had to do.
He proceeded to take a scoop of his famous spaghetti flavored icecream, put it in a waffle cone and shoved it into the box.
"That should put that bomb to rest"
The old man wasn't quick enough to answer the store owner, as he watched the man shove some disgusting looking scoop of ice cream into the box. He grabbed his tiny reading glasses, and a piece of paper, reading its contents, before turning to Marmalade.
"You're Mr. Marmalade, yes?" he said in a frail voice.
Mr. Marmalade looked kindly at the old man who had witnessed his heroic deed.
"Yes I am, how can I help you today citizen?"
He could feel the pocket constitution he had in his breast pocket radiate against him, recognizing a possible sovereign citizen in his wake.
The old man smiled, putting the piece of paper back in his pocket as he spoke once more.
"Do you recall the two serial murder cases from... was it two or three years back?" he asked the ice cream seller.
The Vendor shook his head, a look of sadness overcoming him.
"I do, truly it was a tragedy. So many questions left unanswered and Families without closure. Why do you ask?"
"I'm from the town where those murders happened. Those involved always came to the post office where I worked at, accusing one another. It is a custom around these parts to execute those thought to be murderers, so they voted on it at my post office," the old man revealed.
"I don't work there anymore, but once I heard another murder had happened nearby, I grabbed this box," he said, pointing at it, "and headed straight over here. Those connected should come soon to repeat this cycle."
Big Seal: Swole Team 6 walked confidently into the ice cream shop, dressed in an unconvincing drag costume he had appropriated from his behemoth's closet.
'I'd like some ice cream please... Tee. Hee.' he said deeply, tacking on some girl words at the end to add credibility to his already excellent disguise.
'Sand flavored if you've got it?'
Luigi turned to the grocery store employee who was suddenly beside him.
"Oh hello, I'm here to pick up my m-"
Luigi went silent with a confused look on his face, as if some kind of strange idea had just been planted within his mind. Maybe it was from all the parmesan flavored ice cream he ate yesterday. That would explain why he kept dreaming about being in plumbing school with no overalls on too. Shuddering at the thought, he decided to go back to the ice cream store immediately and lodge a complaint.
"Err sorry, I just realized I have somewhere else to be!" Luigi said before departing towards the ice cream parlor.
Upon entering the shop, Luigi looked directly at Mr. Marmalade and said "Hey uh I gotta complaint to ma-". Once again Luigi stopped himself, this time due to an aroma in the air. "Is that spaghetti I smell?"
Morgan saw Lugi's face, he looked like he just died.
Morgan quickly put his arms out to avoid a dead body hitting the floor, but what he didn't expect was the Body, running out of the store.
Morgan suspected foul play, he thought Lugi was stealing something.
With the experience from living in Australia and running from deadly creatures, he faced the door Lugi went out of, and booked it.
"Lugi! GET BACK HERE!" Yelled Morgan.
Morgan kept chasing Lugi until he stopped at the Icecream shop from the other day.
He quickly went inside after him and put his hands on his shoulders.
"WHAT DID YOU TAKE YOU PIECE OF CRAP? I KNEW YOU TOOK SOMETHING." Morgan yelled, not noticing the amount of people in the room.
After noticing, Morgan took his hands off Lugi's shoulder.
"I mean uh...Lugi, I think you took something from my store, could you uh, please tell me why you ran off and give any items you stole back." Morgan said as polite as possible.
The old man sighed, looking at Mr. Marmalade.
"It is a shame what happened, and to think they still haven't finished that cashier's trial disgusts me. At least they caught and executed that carpenter, am I right?" he commented, before noticing that a drag queen had entered, asking for sand-flavored ice cream. The old man looked partially discomforted.
Then, suddenly, a middle aged man wearing green overalls entered the scene, closely followed by what looked like some store's customer support. He turned to them immediately.
"Good to see more folks arriving," he thought to himself aloud.
[Keep those guesses/accusations coming folks, otherwise I'm going to have to make the vote based on the three that have been sent thus far!]
Ted walked outside, and upon noticing the number of people at the ice cream store, heads on over.
"Mr. Ice Cream Man! I will take another scoop of iced tea lemonade if you got any left." he asked in his silky texan accented voice.
After hearing the Old Man talking, Morgan decided to ask a question, not realizing he left.
"Okay but....how are we supposed to know if someone did it in this group? This city is wide open, anyone else could have done it." Morgan asked.
He then noticed the Old man left.
"Oh...guess we will never know." Morgan said.
Roland walked into the ice cream store as well, seeing a huge crowd. Featuring a man in green overalls, a team in drag, and an old man. He rubbed his forhead. 'Bunch of weird people.'
While enjoying his sand-flavoured icecream, Big Seal: Swole Team 6 heard some BUSTA talking SHIT about his pretty rad disguise (one of the best for ages) and turned around angrily:
[i]"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo."[/i] he yelled indignantly before coming to the end of his breath...
Looking around at everyone in the shop now staring directly at him, some murmuring among themselves, he stopped himself and reminded himself that the mission comes first.
[i]"Tee. Hee."[/i] he added.
Cover secure. That had been a close one.
((sorry for not posting for a while, got sidetracked))
Seeing the enormous number of people in the shop, and a fresh copy of Diagnostics in hand, Ell smoothed his greasy hair back with a few tablespoons of olive oil and made his way inside.
"Dear customers of ice cream" he said in a slightly-louder-than-conversational-but-not-yelling-so-its-awkward-and-you-just-try-to-ignore-it kind of voice. "I give to you something even sweeter..."
holding up the book, the slick oily nature of his hands caused it to slip and tumble to the floor. Knowing that he would have to bend over, Ell was frozen with fear
'So you're gonna bend over to pick that up or what?' Roland said, licking his lips
Ell leaned over, and his spine began to separate, an enormous popping sound shattering the atmosphere. Sticks of butter and poorly sealed bottles of olive oil spilled from his suit jackets pockets.
The sweat on his brow dropped down his face as he reached for the book, his fingers desperately snatching about. Finally, he grabbed the book by the edge , and hoisted it up.
Compiling himself, covered in oil and sweat, Ell turned to Roland.
"Wouldn't u like to read a copy of this wonderful, insightful book?"
"Oh my lord..." Ted said, looking at the greasy abomination in the store. He then whips out his trusty bible immediately begins reciting verses from it. "AWAY WITH THEE, GREASE DEMON OF COMMUNISM!"
[editline]18th April 2017[/editline]
"THE POWER OF GEORGE WASHINGTON COMPELS YOU." Ted yells at the buttery monster.
Chef Gio walks into the local grocery store, looking to buy some ingredients and cooking-related things for use in his restaurant. As he wandered about the isles, he caught an eyeful of one of yesterday's customers slowly bend over and transform into a living pile of butter.
He slowly walked away.
Gio bumped into someone on his way out of the ice cream store. It was the old man, who had just returned after checking with the police about something. The old man's calming demeanor stops him dead in his tracks. The old man, in the meantime, looks over what the fuck is happening.
"I leave for one second and I come back to see this place slowly be enveloped in fat," he commented with a sigh.
However, as he said that, he noticed something; everyone was here! He smiled.
"Since we're all here, we should probably get going with the voting," he said, as he walked over to the box. "Place your vote for who you think did it in this here box," he slapped the box as he did. As he slapped it, the sound of ice cream sloshing within can be heard.
[Vote for the following if you think the accused did it;
Agree for Mr. Marmalade
Disagree for Chef Giovanni
Funny for Ted Cruz
Zing for Luigi
Informative for Ell Ar Aych]
Ted looks over at the old man, he seems like a good american christian. "You, old man! Help me exorcise this communist devil from american soil! We must protect our civil liberties!"
The old man raised his eyebrow at the outdated patriot. "I wouldn't be talking about exorcising something here in public."
'I can't even write,' Roland sighted. He'd cast his vote somehow
"What's this? A vote? A good representation of the freedoms given to us by the Constitution! I'll participate!" Ted said as he scribbled down a name and placed it in the box.
Big Seal: Swole Team 6 stared at the unknown piece of democratic technology and eyed it warily- he'd never actually had the time to 'vote'. He train since child.
The box caught his eye. Big mistake. He stared the box down until it began to look sorry for itself. It put his vote in itself.
[i]"Damn Right Gurl."[/i] he said victoriously, turning away and swooshing his luscious blond hair.
Mr. Marmalade realized the ice cream he put in the box would not suffice and opted to write down a name and place it within.
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