Final Vote Tally
:
4 No Idea2- MeMe, Dasquian, Prizm, Spoon
1 MeMe- Mathcam
2 Not Voting
- No Idea 2, Coolbot
The town discussion grows dark at the 11th hour. Accusations start between MeMe and Mathcam, but soon spread to Prizm, Dasquian, Spoon, and even the silent sbdirt. Questions about sbdirt grow more intense, until finally he speaks.
"What the hell? My name's not sbdirt."
"Well," MeMe asks, "what is your name?"
"No Idea."
"That's a lot of help. Did you get amnesia or something?" Dasquian asks.
"No, look, my name is No Idea."
"We thought you were dead," says Prizm.
"Yeah, I get that a lot. Anyway, I was a doc, and then, uhm, I was sort of here. I guess, scientifically speaking, my wandering spirit possessed sbdirt's body, to avenge my grievous death. Yea, most horrendous a fate shall befall my..."
"Swell," says Coolbot. "I'm thinking we should look at Dasquian now."
"Hey, wait a minute!" shouts MeMe. "No Idea's a witch! Kill Dasquian!"
The town stands still, and gives MeMe a hard look.
"Uhm, I mean No Idea! He's a witch!"
"Who's a witch? Who are we killing?" mathcam asks.
"No Id... oh, shut up. Who's with me?"
"Uhm, not me," Coolbot says.
"Hell no!" affirms No Idea.
"Hey, better him than me," says Dasquian.
"Yeah, git 'im!" Primz says.
"I've got rope!" Spoon says. Before anyone can say anything else, No Idea's dead. Coolbot, MeMe and mathcam begin frantically searching his body, as Spoon, Prizm, and Dasquian stand back and watch. Minutes pass, but No Idea's corpse yields no evidence of scumminess. It seems that No Idea has nothing left to search, and tensions between the six remaining townsfolk are rising.
"I think we got a couple of lying..." Coolbot begins, but is interrupted by MeMe.
"Look!" she says. "He had a gun! He had a gun all along!"
"Oh thank goodness," mathcam says with a sigh. "Where? Where's No Idea's gun?"
"Oh my, no, it's Spoon who has the gun," she says, pointing to the grinning, gun-toting Spoon, "and wouldn't you know it, I have one too."
"That's it!" cries Coolbot. "Game over, man, game over!"
"But... but there's only two of you!" Mathcam says.
"I hate to interrupt all this," says Prizm, "but I think a trip to my cement factory will make things clearer."
No Idea, townie, lynched.
The mafia have won the game. Congratulations Spoon, MeMe and godfather Prizm!
Roles and night choices imminent.