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| Mafia III: Day One |
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| vudu:
Quote Originally posted by: Pale Pale glances out at the town voting booth and notices that a few votes have already been cast... How is it that people are already willing to put another to death? --- End quote --- Normally I would point out that we're just picking people who screwed us over last game (or at least tried to). But I won't do that because then you might vote for me. |
| TheYoungerPlumber:
"Bob Dole….Bob Dob. Bob—AAAH!" TYP awoke from his horrible nightmare with a startle. He glanced at the clock. "6:30 PM? Oh crud!" That was the third day in a row he had wasted by sleeping in. Having missed out on the day's activities, he decided to focus on paperwork before heading out for an evening stroll. Hearing screams from Wandering's accusers and rumors of recent bizarre behavior, TYP couldn't help but wonder if the fellow weren't part of the tough crowd. He decided it may be best if Wandering were put on trial—just in case. |
| ShyGuy:
Wandering, do you have anything to say in your defense not to convince me to vote for you? |
| wandering:
Quote i shall vote for wandering just cuz his name has to do with what i wrote above --- End quote --- Quote Vote: WANDERING it seems the "IN" thing --- End quote --- your reasoning seems flawed. Quote BreakyBoy refuses to read anything in italics because it's god damned annoying Vote wandering for starting this nonsense until someone convinces me otherwise. --- End quote --- The italics role playing thing was actually started by Pale. See for yourself. |
| Bloodworth:
The heat was unbearable. I opened the club late, hoping that the sticky heat might subside, and that those pirates would have found someplace else to go drinking. My club has been frequented by them far too much, and the dance floor needs enough scrubbing without having the blood of one of my customers blood spread all over it. The ceiling fans were making a difference now, but as soon as the band starts to play, the bodies will fill in and the air will thicken again. I tried to focus on my duties at the bar and the few honest sailors who had just come off the ships to flirt before collapsing in their rooms. The band's lead singer, BlackNMild, enters. His shirt is open wide, from the heat of his ego, rather than the warm tropical evening. His arms are as far around his group of half-dressed girls as he can manage - as usual. "You're in early," I say. "I'm not giving you any more advances before shows. If your whores think you're good for the cash, you can pay them after you've earned your share." He casts a challenging glance my way, and walks to the back patio for a smoke. |
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