The Scummies, 2010 (Red Carpet and Ceremony!)

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Glad Hatter
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Post Post #125  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 7:53 pm

Is stuff finally starting? o.o

Mafia Scum
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Post Post #126  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 7:56 pm

Mist7676: The competition is about to start I'm about to take my seat in the Reporters Section, enjoy the show everyone.
Last edited by Mist7676 on Wed Aug 08, 2012 7:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
You Are Worth It

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Post Post #127  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:00 pm

How much longer till awards are announced?

Uncle Potbear
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Post Post #128  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:00 pm


VP Baltar
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Post Post #129  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:05 pm

I've won everything and I thank know one. It was all my doing. You may go home now.

has been killed Night 1
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Post Post #130  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:06 pm

VP Baltar wrote:I've won everything and I thank know one. It was all my doing. You may go home now.

No-one? Not even the Ghost of the English Language? :P
"I am a leaf on the wind ... watch how I soar!"

Pretty much Geriatric game restricted at this point ... unless there are players I REALLY want to play with.

It's pronounced "Xalxe"
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Post Post #131  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:08 pm

/knows all the winners

[REDACTED - mith]
- Tic Tac Dough! -
- Betrayal: Widow's Walk -
- On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees -

VP Baltar
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Post Post #132  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:09 pm

The known one...that's who I thank. Whoever that may be would be known to you if you knew. GET OUT OF HERE YOU DAMNABLE KIDS.

It's pronounced "Xalxe"
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Post Post #133  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:10 pm

I hate that I can't bookmark this.
- Tic Tac Dough! -
- Betrayal: Widow's Walk -
- On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees -

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Post Post #134  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:10 pm

Than your a fail. I can bookmark it.
"Animorpherv1's posts are so powerful that prolonged exposure may cause vertigo, nausea, acute tinnitus, and in rare cases, death." - vonflare

"Ani is right 100% of the time" - Alisae

It's pronounced "Xalxe"
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Post Post #135  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:11 pm

- Tic Tac Dough! -
- Betrayal: Widow's Walk -
- On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees -

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Post Post #136  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:12 pm

On second look, it doesn't show up in my bookmarks even thoight it says it was done sucesfully,,,
"Animorpherv1's posts are so powerful that prolonged exposure may cause vertigo, nausea, acute tinnitus, and in rare cases, death." - vonflare

"Ani is right 100% of the time" - Alisae

It's pronounced "Xalxe"
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Post Post #137  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:12 pm

animorpherv1 wrote:On second look, it doesn't show up in my bookmarks even thoight it says it was done sucesfully,,,

- Tic Tac Dough! -
- Betrayal: Widow's Walk -
- On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees -

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Post Post #138  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:33 pm







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Post Post #139  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:35 pm

mith: That's what you get when you have people submitting their stuff four minutes before it's due to go live.

Mr. Flay: Nah, it's probably just the equipment we're working with. It's absolute junk.

mith: Or it's both. Let's just hope nothing else goes--

Suddenly, one of the pieces of equipment hanging from the ceiling begins to lower slowly. Before long, it's evident that the Teflon roof itself is falling down. Screams emanate from the crowd, and they begin piling onto each other in a mad dash for the exits.

Mr. Flay: You had to say it out loud, didn't--

mith: Shut up.

mith picks up a nearby microphone and begins to speak.


At that moment, the roof finally splits open, and a tan-colored blur pours in. In a very short amount of time, it spreads out into the seating areas, and soon it begins to consume the attendees. mith drops the microphone.

mith: Oh, no! The hamsters!

Mr. Flay: They weren't supposed to spread here for at least another--

mith: Just shut up and run!

mith and Mr. Flay attempt to bolt off the platform, but before they can get off the hamsters surround the area and begin skittering towards them.

Mr. Flay: Too late!

The hamster flood dashes across the stage and knocks the two men off their feet. In mere seconds, mith and Mr. Flay vanish under the tan, furry sea...

Masked Figure: ...and cut! Kill the robot hamsters.

Just like that, the swarm of hamsters lies still. Mith and Mr. Flay rise from beneath the tan pile and stand up.

Masked Figure: Excellent work, you two. The 2012 Scummies are going to be a hit, for sure!

mith: They'd better be. How much are we paying for the robot hamsters again?

Mr. Flay: Hey, at least it's less than we'd pay for six million domestic hamsters, plus handlers.

mith: Why can't we ever have simple, traditional ceremonies?

Masked Figure: Because no one would come to them, and you know it.

Mr. Flay: Right. Well, then, shall we get on over to Cowboys Stadium for the real show, then?

mith: Yeah, good idea.

As the crew begins to remove the millions of hamsters, mith, Mr. Flay, and the Masked Figure step off the podium and make their way off the Metrodome set.

Moments later, mith, Mr. Flay, and the Masked Figure are on a stage set up on the fifty yard-line of Cowboys Stadium.

Mr. Flay: I still can't believe you managed to get us into this place. How'd you do it?

mith: Well, um, it wasn't me. It was him.

He points at the Masked Figure. By now, the hundreds of thousands of seats are beginning to fill with Scummers. On the field, DarlaBlueEyes is being held by two crew members.

DarlaBlueEyes: mith! Hey! Over here!

mith: Hm? What do you want?

DarlaBlueEyes: I want to dooooo something! I want to be a part of the Scummies! And these guys won't let me go!

mith: Oh. Well in that case... Hey, get a camera over here. Alright. Here, read this.

DarlaBlueEyes: Um, ok. Do you want me to read this little star thing?

mith: Yes, read the asterisk.

DarlaBlueEyes: Ok. Ahem. "*This Scummies Ceremony is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, places, or web hosts is purely not coincidental, but still, we aren't trying to imply that our experience with KnownHost is in any way comparable to the Metrodome roof collapsing. We just outgrew them. bluehost, on the other hand, sucks." Hey, that's a cheap shot.

mith: You said it, not me. Jerk.

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Post Post #140  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:35 pm






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Post Post #141  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:36 pm

mith looks out onto the field/stage from one of the luxury boxes, flanked by Mr. Flay and the mysterious masked figure.

mith: This is so much better. Fantastic.

Mr. Flay: Wonderful. But how are we ever going to fill such a big venue?

Something off-camera beeps, and Mr. Flay looks over at it. His eyes go slightly wide, and he rushes off.

Masked Figure: What was that all about? Anyway, he has a point. I really want to fill this baby up, really test our setup.

mith: Hmm. Well. I suppose we could always tell the guards to just let everyone in.

Masked Figure: Everyone? Even...

mith: Yes, that's right. Even the spammers.

Announcer: Image, Image, and "None", welcome to the Eighth Annual Scummie Awards, coming to you live from Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, Texas! And now, your host... mith!

The camera pans away from the stage at midfield, over the full-to-capacity stands; the audience cheers and does the wave as they see themselves on the giant screen hanging over the stage. Eventually the view centers on the luxury box where mith stands, looking over the crowd. He waves, and on cue the glass in front of him shatters. He levitates up and over the glass, and floats down to the stage...

Shanba: Hey! What is this witchcraft?! mith can't fly!

Kison: Alpha team, go!

Members of the SSC leap into action, and Faraday aims an electromagnetic pulse cannon at, presumably, MafiaBot3000 disguised as mith. He closes his eyes and fires. A direct hit!

SpyreX: It didn't work!

mith: Of course it didn't work, fools. I am no machine.

JDodge raises another weapon, but "mith" motions and the weapon goes flying. The entire SSC is lifted into the air, and they start to clutch at their throats. Some of the members of the audience nearby scream, while others offer bargain prices for male performance enhancers. Satisfied that the situation is under control, the impostor nods, and the air around it shimmers as the psychic disguise drops from the minds of the audience, revealing...

MewTwo: Bwahaha... ha... haha... haow, hey, what the...

MewTwo turns to see that Flameaxe, dressed in some bizarre costume, has bitten its tail.

MewTwo: I see we have a volunteer...

Flameaxe: Mmmpmmm mm mmmt?

MewTwo: Volunteer to die. And where are your manners? Didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full? I will be doing this planet a favor ridding it of the human population...

Yaw: Not if we have anything to say about it...

MewTwo turns to see Yaw hovering behind it, dressed as a Butterfree. Other users in costumes hover or stand behind...

This footage has been removed due to copyright claim by Nintendo. It's epic, though, trust us.

MewTwo lies broken and defeated on the 20 yard line, barely moving. The Scumchat Pokédex surrounds it, victorious.

ChannelDelibird: Anyone have a Pokéball?

mith: Here.

ChannelDelibird: Thanks... hey, mith, where the hell have you been?

mith: What, I can't let a psychic Pokémon run things for a little while and take a vacation?

Bill Cosby: Pokémon?!

Does anyone know what the jazz this is all about? No? Let's just move on.

Back on stage, mith is preparing to kick off the first set of awards. Vi briskly walks across the stage unannounced and slips mith a note.

mith: Oh, dear. I've just been handed note informing me of an urgent breaking news situation. Let's go to our intrepid report, on the scene.

Intrepid Reporter: Aggressive Mind Games. What are they? Who is responsible for their emergence on This reporter wanted to get to the bottom of the story. I spoke with a source who would like to remain anonymous, and he or she has one possible culprit.

Anon: Just look at the numbers, man, it's all in the numbers. Do you think it's a coincidence that this exponential increase in Aggressive Mind Games corresponds exactly with the period leading to the creation of this so-called "Forum 62"? That's what they want you to think, man. Had to change the name because we were on to them, Hamsterdam was too in-your-face, blatant, just telling you right there what the game's all about, man, control, they're trying to get us to run in circles on a hamster wheel, man. The Scumchat clique, that's the man behind the curtain, did you know that mith visits Scumchat periodically, almost like planned meetings for the puppet with the true power behind the throne. Look at the graphs, man!

Intrepid Reporter: Have we uncovered a conspiracy that will shake the very foundation of Perhaps; but after following up a few leads, this reporter has come to the conclusion that the so-called "Scumchat clique" cannot be responsible - they have an airtight alibi, having spent 8 hours on their Pokémon costumes during a key window in the Aggressive Mind Games story. We will continue to seek the truth, and get to the bottom of who is really responsible. Back to you, mith.

mith: Thanks, please keep us updated as the situation develops. Alright folks, let's get this show started, shall we? This year, about half of the awards - those recognizing single events, such as play in a particular game, a specific post, or design elements from individual games - were split into first-half and second-half nominations, with judge groups for each half narrowing the nominees down to one or two finalists. The winner was then chosen by a third group of judges, with help from players and mods who were involved with multiple finalists. As usual, we had a number of excellent nominations, and even choosing finalists was a difficult job, much less deciding on a single winner for the year.

Applause for the judges!

mith: The remainder of the awards are based on a player or moderator's "body-of-work", and these awards were tackled by the finalist judges all on their own - at times an even more mountainous task, given the number of nominations and the necessity to read though multiple games for each.

More applause for the judges!

mith: I'll be introducing the judges throughout the show to present awards, but to get us started, I'll be presenting our traditional first award of the Scummies. Every year, hundreds of new users come to, and after waiting a seemingly endless period of time for their accounts to be activated, many of these users make an immediate positive impact, whether through exceptional play, creative and unique ideas, or in numerous other ways. We always like to see a large number of nominations in this category, and we definitely had that this year. But there can only be one winner... and the Rookie of the Year Award for Most Outstanding New Player is--

The lights flicker on and off, and mith stops speaking.

At first there are whispers of doubt and fear, but the crowd goes silent in anticipation as a loud stomping and snorting is heard from the west wing. Suddenly, ReaperCharlie bursts out from behind the curtain, onto the stage, riding a beautiful white unicorn with an inexplicably blood-splattered horn. The crowd's surprise is palpable; the excitement in the auditorium is undeniable as the audience bursts into simultaneous applause and jeering! Suddenly, the dashing animal rears onto its back legs, and lets out a mighty...


Holding its proud head high, the magnificent beast canters onto the middle of the stage, gallantly snorting puffs of magical steam into the air. ReaperCharlie expertly handles the resplendent creature and guides it to the center podium, where mith stands and watches silently. Lo and behold, ReaperCharlie reveals a large crystalline plaque that had been concealed under a shimmering rainbow-tinged rider's cloak. The crowd begins to cheer deafeningly at the sight of the award itself, and ReaperCharlie (always the shining beacon of pomp and circumstance) gallops the equestrian back and forth at the front of the stage. After repeatedly rearing the glorious animal in a display of sheer transcendence, screaming war cries into the audience at every turn, ReaperCharlie returns to the podium, calms the mighty beast with soothing words, and looks to mith for the continuation of the ceremony.

mith: Er... ReaperCharlie, what are you doing out here? And may I be the first to say that you look absolutely ridiculous in that get-up? You should probably sue your fashion designer.

ReaperCharlie: Thank you! Your adoration is greatly appreciated; as you know, you are one of the precious few who appreciates pure and unparalleled majesty when he beholds it. These garments were crafted from the finest silk, spun from the Spiders of Eternity specifically for this very purpose: to be worn on the Night of Recognition to all of those who have proven themselves worthy of being honored. In recognizing the ethereal qualities of this symbolic clothing, mith, you prove yourself to be a fine judge of both character and of quality. You are a credit to your people, and I regard you now as an equal.

mith: No, seriously, that looks really bad. No offense, but you look like a clown. All you're missing are the big red shoes.

ReaperCharlie: Yes, isn't she a gorgeous beast? I've always thought the Unicorns were the most majestic of all creatures. I got her on eBay. I'd like to thank Fritzler, Stefunny, tanstalas, Fuben, and AGar for their donations to the purchase of this fine animal. They have always been the best Unicorns friends to me, and likely shall forevermore be.

Hearing this, the Unicorns present in the crowd cheer and jeer simultaneously, creating a tumultuous cacophony of love, contempt, brotherhood, and sardonic humor.

ReaperCharlie: (with a beaming smile) Lol, shut up you guys. Anyway, just to remind everyone following along at home: Halo Wednesdays have been in full swing for quite some time now. If you have any questions or would like to play with us, just hit up one of us Unicorns and we will give you more info. In fact, if you stop by, I'll even let you pet this beautiful creature that I'm riding at this very moment. Her name is BaJazzled; though how she came by that name, she has yet to tell me. And yes, in case you're wondering, of course unicorns can speak! This one has a beautiful voice, and can even sing! Don't ask me where she learned that, she hasn't told me that yet either...

mith: Um... yeah. Moving on... wait, what is that you're holding?

ReaperCharlie: Ah, yeeeessss... about that! This is the highly sought after Rookie of the Year Award! The award itself is magnificent, isn't it? Simply divine! The crystal is made from the finest and rarest of precious stones, and the quality of the workmanship is fascinating! Surely, only the finest and best of the hallowed halls of mafiascum would be allowed to carry off an award of this magnitude!

mith: Erm...

mith nods in the direction of the podium, where sits the actual award trophy.

ReaperCharlie: I see that you are nodding me along, I know the winner of this incredible trophy will want to take hold of it as soon as possible, so let's announce the...

mith: (annoyed) ReaperCharlie!

The Unicorn stamps its hoof impatiently in the awkward silence that follows.

mith: RC, you aren't presenting this award. You're presenting a different award, later in the show. We already have a trophy for this one.

ReaperCharlie: But... mith! Look at this one! I had it made special! The crystal, and the stones... the horn, mith, the horn!

mith: And if you bring that bloody unicorn back out here later...

ReaperCharlie: Oh, the blood? That's an incredible story, I'm glad you asked about that. You see, it all started when BaJazzled and I...

mith: It was an expression, I wasn't asking about the actual blood!

ReaperCharlie: Oh. You're kinda cranky tonight, mith, is there something agitating you?

SaintKerrigan: Did a unicorn bite your sister once?

mith: Sigh. Do we have to fit a Monty Python reference in every year? It's a little overused, don't you think? We're better than that.

SaintKerrigan: Oops.

ReaperCharlie: Well, I guess I'll get off your stage now, Mr. Cranky Pants.

mith: Thank you. Go read the script.

ReaperCharlie: Will do! I brought a special Unicorn marker with which to edit my lines to make them even better! It writes in all the colors of the rainbow, and...

In one motion, ReaperCharlie quickly tosses the microphone to mith, draws his steed's reins tightly, whirling the dazzling white Unicorn about, and gallops off the stage behind the waiting curtain. And from the west wing comes another magical burst of exultation:


mith: (blinking in bewilderment) Um.... I don't even know what to say... say, Flay, do you have any comments?

Mr. Flay: ...

mith: Absolutely unbelievable. Anyway... where was I? Oh, right. The winner is... MagnaofIllusion!

"Oh, do you really need to hear us tell you that you played a great game? You know it.

"He's already got a meta of 'If Magna's not dead by Night 2, he's probscum', which is surprisingly Glork-esque for a new player." - ReaperCharlie

mith: Now, presenting our next award, the first of our seven finalist/body-of-work judges: Thesp!

Thesp: Thanks, mith, and good evening everyone! This award is related to the first, as an important role on this site in bringing new members into the community is setting a good example for them in our Newbie Games. If you think you can help in this capacity in the future, head to the Newbie Game Queue and sign up, maybe you'll win this award for 2011! But for 2010, the Jedi Master Award for Best Inexperience-Challenged Player goes to... yabbaguy!

"He has been in a couple of my newbie games recently and really helps the new players settle in regardless of his alignment. But he also does a great game break down for everyone once it is over. Examples, Newbie 953 and Newbie 971. I was impressed." - Sotty7

mith: Congratulations to our first two winners! And now, in keeping with tradition... let's take our first look at this year's Scummies Mafia Live! Let's see how the beginning of that game is coming along.

In a dark, damp room, somewhere in the bowels of Cowboys Stadium, 12 individuals stand and shiver with antici...

AGar: This looks like it's going to be a fun game. Scummies too.

Tragedy: QFT




Fritzler: Claim: Dayvig. Daykill: AGar. Daykill: Tragedy.

Fritzler pulls out a two-shot revolver and quickly fires, splattering AGar's and Tragedy's brains all over the floor.

Antoine Dodson: Run and tell that, homeboy.

The camera focuses on AGar's corpse, and a graphic displays that "AGar (Mafia Goon) has been killed". A similar graphic pops up - "Tragedy (Mafia Goon) has been killed" - as the camera cuts to Tragedy's body. The shot switches to the entire room, and a third graphic displays: "Town [Fritzler (Two-Shot Dayvig), xRECKONERx (Vanilla Townie), Fate (Vanilla Townie), Katsuki (Vanilla Townie), brokenscraps (Vanilla Townie), Nexus (Vanilla Townie), InflatablePie (Vanilla Townie), PokerFace (Vanilla Townie), Ghostwriter (Vanilla Townie) and Ythill (Vanilla Townie)] wins!"

Back on stage, mith is looking at his notes on the podium, rifling through them. He looks up at the camera suddenly as one of the crew says something into his earpiece.

mith: Um... welcome back! Well that was certainly a memorable game, one for the record books! Isn't that exciting? On with the show... our next award is presented by Andrius, representing the first half judging group, and danakillsu, representing the second half judging group. Let's welcome them on the stage!

As mith exits stage left, the microphone catches him muttering under his breath...

mith: What the [removed] just happened? That's a whole [removed] half a [removed] hour of dead space that we're going to need filler for... wait, am I still... cut the microphone, you [removed]...

Andrius: Er... thanks, mith. This award...

danakillsu: ...recognizes originality and elegance in...

Andrius: construction. The...

danakillsu: ...Rube Goldberg Award for Best Setup goes to...

Andrius and danakillsu: dramonic for Tarot Mafia!

"I think the most admirable performance was dram's. The set-up and flavor were so interesting that they distracted from the game, but not so much that we ever missed a deadline. The set-up was elaborate enough to be mind-boggling and yet played out with perfect balance right up until the final vote." - Ythill

dramonic walks up to the stage in disbelief, clearly overcome with emotion at winning his first Scummie. He hugs everyone he can get his hands on as he goes, and finally reaches the podium.

dramonic: Oh, my, this is so overwhelming. Thank you, judges, for choosing my setup for this award... and all the players, of course... and Vi, for letting me steal... er... his or her rules... and... oh, I know I'm going to leave someone out... Reck, get up here, I want to share this moment with you... I couldn't have done it without my love!

As xRECKONERx reaches the podium, dramonic turns to him, grabs his shirt, and pulls him close for a celebratory kiss... there is a mixed reaction from the crowd initially, a few wolf-whistles, a few jeers... but most everyone in the stadium agrees that the kiss has gone on quite long enough after the first two hundred pages minutes, and the "wrap it up" music starts to play. When that doesn't work, mith presses a button and teleports them to a less televised location.

mith: We'll be right back, after this word from our sponsors.

In a darkened room, Ythill kneels before a holocorder where a flickering image of Mr. Flay is addressing him. The door is ajar and a murmur of conversation can be heard from the next room.

Mr. Flay: ...that can clean up off-color humor, homogenize memes, even prevent trolling and spam, but the Code cannot be transferred and the secret to rewriting it was lost long ago when old master jeep went disappeared into seclusion. It is rumored that he's hiding in your sector. Find him. Quickly. Even now, we are preparing the move to our new, fully armed and operational bulletin boards.

Ythill: And this man, jeep, you are sure he is still alive?

Mr. Flay: He is. You must find him. You must recover the Lost Code. The future of the boards depend on it.

SocioPath: (off-camera) Ythill, hurry up. It's your turn.

Sudo_Nym: (off-camera) What are you doing?

Ythill: Just hold on! (to Mr. Flay) I will not fail you, master.

The hologram of Mr. Flay nods and then fades. Ythill rises and moves into the next room, where Brandi, SocioPath, Sudo_Nym, and Xine are waiting impatiently around a game board.

SocioPath: It's about time, we're not getting any younger waiting for-

Brandi: Why are you dressed like that?

Ythill: There is no time to explain, and we're not going to finish this game. We have something more important to do.

Sudo_Nym: But I'm winning!

Xine: Is it time?

Ythill nods. Xine moves to the wall and feels for a hidden switch behind a painting. A panel slides back and a rack swings out of a hidden alcove. Hanging on it are suits of stormtrooper armor.

SocioPath: What the…

Sudo_Nym: Sweet.

Chattering amongst themselves, everyone goes to the rack and starts picking through the costumes. Most find suitable fits and start to strap the armor on over their clothes, but Sudo_Nym is still digging through the secret closet and is starting to look disappointed.

Ythill: What's the matter?

Sudo_Nym: I can't find any Fett armor.

Ythill: There isn't any. You're scumstormtroopers, not scumstormbountyhunters.

Sudo_Nym: Oh, but you get to be Darth Fabio.

Ythill: Well… um…

Sudo_Nym: It's not fair. I want to be a bounty hunter. So I can shoot everything with my missile launcher… and stuff.

Sudo_Nym illustrates by pretending to shoot rockets from a wrist-mounted launcher, complete with sound effects. Ythill shrugs. The others are mostly dressed. Brandi looks up from the task of drawing pink cat ears on her helmet.

Brandi: Just get dressed, Sudo.

Grumbling, he does so. Before long the group is in costume. They are all dressed as stormtroopers except for little Obi-wan who is wearing an Ewok suit. Brandi has drawn cute stuff all over her armor. Xine's dreadlocks are sticking out from under her helmet. Ythill passes out some old Laser Tag guns to use as blasters, then ushers the troopers out onto the porch where he gestures to indicate the bright orange hippie van parked below.

Ythill: Quickly, to the Millennium Punkin.

SocioPath: What a piece of junk.

Ythill: She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've made a lot of special modifications myself.

SocioPath: Okay. Hold it right there. This is all wrong. You're a Sith knight with an Ewok son named Obi-wan, and now you're stealing Han Solo's lines? We're stormtroopers riding in a rebel ship? An orange rebel ship? This is all wrong.

Brandi: It is pretty messed up.

Sudo_Nym: Yeah. So why can't I be a bounty hunter?

Xine: Would you guys please just get in the van? We can talk about this on the way.

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Post Post #142  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:36 pm


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Post Post #143  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:37 pm

animorpherv1 and gandalf5166 enter the main hall and slip through the crowd clustered around the snack bar. They spot Drench, who has noticed them and is heading deeper into the foyer. They hurry to catch up and eventually are striding beside him, speaking in conspiratorial tones.

animorpherv1: Did you get them?

Drench pulls out three authentic looking identification cards and hands one to each of his friends.

Drench: I told you to trust me.

animorpherv1: Sweet.

gandalf5166: I don't know...

Drench: What? What's wrong?

gandalf5166: I already have a fake ID and mine is way better than this. I mean, a picture of a Pokémon? Really? This doesn't even look like me! And what kind of a name is Dethymiller? Is it some kind of joke?

animorpherv1: He's got a point Drench. It doesn't even have a number in it.

Drench: (sigh) When are you children going to realize that having a number in your name is a dead giveaway?

gandalf5166: That's not the point, Drench. I mean, I've used my ID to get into all of the clubs. The bouncers never even question it. I just think it looks a lot better than this one and it cost a lot less t--

Drench stops short, causing the others to bump into him. He spins around, clearly offended.

Drench: See? That's your problem, gand. You think you know it all. Well... let me tell you something, we're not going to a club, we're going to a restroom. And you think your ID is so great because it gets you past bouncers? Well, this restroom doesn't have a bouncer. It has an [adult] tag, which means we don't just have to fool one roid-chomping high school dropout, we have to fool the entire internet.

gandalf5166: Couldn't we just change our birthdates?

Drench: That might trick most of the internet, but not the Scummers. They pay attention to details like that.

gandalf5166: We could make alt accounts.

Drench: (laughing) Alt accounts? Listen to this guy, ani! You're really underestimating these people, gand. They check IPs.

gandalf5166: Wow. So these things...

Drench: Exactly. They run through two proxys, one in Geneva, another is some little podunk town in Yugoslavia, but that's not the only thing special about these babies. The names, pictures, locations... everything about them is set up just right to exploit site memes and a hundred little nuances. People are going to know right away that these are fake. They'll assume that, since its obvious, it must be some kind of joke. And of course the humor is articulated just right to not only be mature, but to be of a style commonly exhibited by a few different regulars who are over the legal age. Theories will abound as to who we are. I promise you: before night's end, at least one of us will be mistaken for Haylen. Can't you see? That's the genius of it.

gandalf5166: Um... okay?

animorpherv1: Yeah, that sounds...

Drench: Can we just get going please?

gandalf5166 and animporpherv1 exchange concerned glances but follow Drench around the corner. There, on the far wall, are a pair of restrooms. The one on the right is labeled "Guys," and there is a long line of people waiting to get in. The three friends get into the queue which is moving quickly past a security station.

gandalf5166: What's so special about this bathroom anyway?

animporpherv1: It's fantastic. There's all these older gay men in there... talking dirty.

gandalf5166: Um... I suppose that sounds kinda... nice.

animorpherv1: It is.

Drench: It's like paradise.

animorpherv1: A little slice of heaven.

Sighing dreamily, the friends continue to wait in line until they reach the security station: an intimidating, computerized kiosk manned by a robot sentinel. The machine scans and confirms their IDs quickly and they move through the turnstile. Drench grins proudly at the others; they can't resist some high-fives. Then, giddy with excitement, they move to the door. Drench grabs the handle and stands poised.

Drench: Alright boys, welcome to the coolest party on earth...

He tugs the door open only to reveal a plain brick wall. A message has been stenciled on it in bold, black letters: "You are not authorized to view this subforum."

Drench: Wha-- Gone? Moved? No!!! (falls to his knees) I thought of everything! Everything!!!

mith: Welcome back, everyone! Before we get to our next awards, we have more from our intrepid reporter...

Intrepid Reporter: Breaking news here tonight at the Scummies: Reck and dram are gay.

mith: Er... I think everyone already...

Intrepid Reporter: And now, as part of my ongoing investigation into Aggressive Mind Games: Tigers. Are they somehow responsible? We asked resident tiger-hunting expert mith to share his insight...

mith: You did? Oh, right, I mean... er... well, yes, the tiger menace is always a concern here at The war between tigers and humans has been going on for millennia, and we must always be aware of the threat they post. Constant Vigilance! However... all our current reports indicate that the tigers are near extinction, and we have the last vestiges of the scum on the run. I don't think they can be responsible for any serious threat, especially something as potentially mind-blowing as Aggressive Mind Games.

Intrepid Reporter: Who, then, is filling the power vacuum left by the absence of the tigers? And is this new group responsible for Aggressive Mind Games? The search for the truth continues...

mith: Ok, thanks again. We'll continue to check in with our intrepid reporter throughout the show as we find out more. Moving on... let's pass out some more awards! Presenting the next award, Haylen from the first half group and Debonair Danny DiPietro from the second half!

Haylen: Thanks, mith! And hi, newbies!

Haylen blows kisses to all the newbies.

Debonair Danny DiPietro: This award is for the Best Mechanic or Mutation in a setup, called the Grr, Arg Award because mith is too much of a Joss Whedon fanboy.

Haylen: This year's winner is... Vi for Mafia on Holy Orders!

"But the Holy Orders mechanic has a dual complexity and simplicity I enjoyed. To paraphrase, uh, someone else, it managed to integrate the 1v1 paradigm of good/evil (the idea behind alignments) into a real Mafia game where the players and the Seraphs both had roles to play. It didn't overshadow scumhunting; it added different levels to it. Seraphs had to scumhunt and/or Townhunt and plan strategically. And try to lead the Town and/or drag the Town into WIFOM-bound situations. Town had to work with a mechanic they didn't understand but began to get some bits and pieces of understanding of as the game progeressed. The balance of power can shift within reason, and due to strategic Seraph play combined with good play by their in-thread teammates. There's plenty of choice, and the same setup could go many many different ways with Seraphs trying to outsmart one another. But in the end it all came down to Seraphs integrating well with players playing well in the thread.

And it was boatloads of fun. Biases: I got to be a Dayvig and shoot two scum in MoHo." - Plum

[Off-stage Voice]: Hang on, I said hang on!

mith: I'm sorry, folks, something appears to be going on backstage.

PranaDevil wanders on stage looking lost.

PranaDevil: Did she come this way?

mith: Did who come this way?

PranaDevil: Mildred.

mith: Who's Mildred?

PranaDevil: My girlfriend. Did you see her? She escaped and I'm sure she came in this direction.

mith: She... escaped?

PranaDevil: I left the door unlocked for one second, turned around, and she just ran away. Now I'm trying to find her before something happens to her.

mith nervously looks towards the cameras...

PranaDevil: So have you seen her?

mith: No, I haven't, and I would thank you to keep off the stage. We're in the middle of a presentation here.

PranaDevil: You're wha... ah, that would explain the cameras would it?

mith: Yes, it would.

PranaDevil: And everyone has just heard what I've said to you?

mith: That would be the case, yes. And what's that duck doing on stage?

PranaDevil: Duck?

PranaDevil turns around to see the duck wandering towards the front of the stage

Duck: QUACK!

PranaDevil: MILDRED!

The duck takes one look at PranaDevil, and is off like a shot down the aisle leaving PranaDevil chasing after it.


mith watches Prana disappear towards the back of the audience, before shaking his head at what has just occurred.

mith: Alright, then. If there aren't any more interruptions, we can move on to the next award, presented by... Xalxe... ReaperCharlie, what are you doing?

As Xalxe walks onto the stage, ReaperCharlie follows, circling around Xalxe and thrusting a large sign in his face.

ReaperCharlie: Down with the White Knight! Up with the Unicorn Brethren!

mith: Oh dear...

Xalxe pushes his way through to the podium, but ReaperCharlie whacks him on the back of the head with the sign and grabs the microphone...

ReaperCharlie: Hello, my adoring fans! We're taking over this show to protest the cruel treatment of the judges! Do you know how many games we have to read to award something like the White Knight Award for Best Replacement? Especially when there are so many worthy nominees...

mith sighs loudly, helping Xalxe back to his feet.

mith: Alright, RC, what will it take to get you off the stage?

ReaperCharlie: I'm so glad you asked! We have a list of what I am sure you agree are very reasonable demands... first... fewer work hours for the judges!

mith: I make no promises about that one. What else?

ReaperCharlie: The name of the award must be changed! I can't help but feel that the White Knight is a threat to Unicorn-kind everywhere...

mith: Er... why would you think that? And no, we aren't changing the name of the award, forget it.

ReaperCharlie: Third... BaJazzled would like a bowl of Skittles in her dressing room, to be fed to her one at a time by rainbow-clad servants.

mith: I can have someone run down to the store and get a bag of Skittles. You can get your own bowl.

ReaperCharlie: We'll take it! Thanks, mith!

mith: Don't mention it. Now get off the stage, and don't come back until it's time for you to present an award, ok? We're going to be here all night at this rate... Xalxe?

Xalxe rubs the back of his head and looks suspiciously at ReaperCharlie as he steps up to the microphone again.

Xalxe: The winner of the White Knight Award is... petroleumjelly!

"I nominate petroleumjelly for Best Replacement now in 2 games of mine (a Large Normal and mini 1013 - as Confucius) he played to an outstanding level when he replaced in and raised the posting in both games. He did a superfast reread and delved in which helped immensely particularly in the slightly slow large normal." - Porochaz

Sotty7: Obviously, the focus of is the game forums, and the number of Scummies recognizing good play and good game design attests to that. However, many players and moderators improve the skills via the many theory and design discussions which take place in the Mafia Discussion forum. The next award is the Professor Mafia Award for Best Contribution to Mafia Discussion, and it goes to... Hoopla for Mini Statistics and Limit Proposal!

"The only thing 12 player games have in their favour is familiarity, and the only reason 12 became the magic number, is because this is how many players the very first game used. It is has served it's use long enough, but it is completely arbitrary, and if we seriously want to improve the quality of games (namely balance), we need to rethink this structure, because it is naturally impeding balance of our most common set-ups (outside newbie games). Of course, thoughtful and creative mods can overcome the obstacles of the number 12, but it is very difficult to do right. Rather than individually nitpicking and focusing on each 12-player set-up, knowing it is a tricky number to work with, ticking up to 13 players means that the set-ups that don't come under as much scrutiny as this will still have a good chance of being balanced.

With the soon-to-be introduction of mandatory reviews for normal games, this to me feels like the perfect opportunity to review the base number of players mods build their set-ups around and introduce something new, that will go a long way to producing fairer games. If you've read this far, thank you! I hope I've been convincing, because this is something that should be talked about again." - Hoopla

A hush falls over the auditorium as the next presenter steps on stage. Except... it's more... flying, really.

Mystery Presenter: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It is my honor to finally present the award named after me.

The crowd is mystified. This presenter has no mouth. It's as if the voice is being spoken throughout the auditorium... everywhere and nowhere at once.

Mystery Presenter: Oh, come now, despite my multitude of abilities, omnipresence is not one of them. And besides, did you expect a pumpkin to have a mouth?

An adventurous (or perhaps just stupid) player jumps to his feet.

drmyshottyiszik: That’s ridiculous! Pumpkins don't fly! And they definitely don't shoot lazers out of their butts lol!

The crowd senses that this was a mistake. The Great Pumpkin turns toward shotty.

Flying Pumpkin: Oh, really now? We'll see about that!

Suddenly, a beam of light is launched from the pumpkin's ass, barreling directly towards shotty. It hits him, and after much screaming, he is incinerated. The Pumpkin turns back to the microphone.

Flying Pumpkin: Now, as I was saying, it is a pleasure to be with you this evening to present the award for Best New Role, the Flying Pumpkin Who Shoots Laser Beams Out of Its Ass Award. And the Scummie goes to... malthusis for "Tentaculat"!

"However, the cult variation this had was better than a normal cult by several million miles- the alt system allowed the Tentaculat to take over the account, without the original player's wc changing (so no problem with a player playing for one side all game then getting culted at the death)." - The Fonz

The troopers are rolling down the street in the Millennium Punkin. Xine is sitting in the co-pilot's seat, adjusting switches and dials on the dash. Ythill is driving. The others are sitting pensively in the back. A police car passes in the opposite direction before doing a quick u-turn.

Brandi: What was that?

Xine: A cruiser, but I don't know what they're doing this far out in the suburbs. Maybe they're lost.

Ythill: Whatever they're up to, it looks like they're onto us. We're getting pulled over.

Obi-wan: Rebel scum.

The cruiser's lights and sirens come on. Ythill finds a wide spot along the shoulder and slows to a stop. Getting out of their car, two policemen flank the van. The one by the passenger side shines his flashlight in through the windows, the other speaks to Ythill.

Cop 1: Do you know how fast you were going?

Ythill: It couldn't have been that fast. I hadn't even engaged the hyperdrive yet.

Cop 1: Okay smart aleck. I'm going to need to see some ID.

Ythill: (subtly waving his hand) You don't need to see my ID.

Cop 1: Yes, actually, I do.

Ythill: (waving his hand again) No. You don't.

Cop 1: Listen buddy, I don't have time for this. Besides, your tricks only work on the weak-minded.

Ythill: Don't make me force choke you.

Cop 1: (shrugs) My partner knows the force Heimlich. Are you going to show me your ID or not?

Ythill: I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Ythill pulls out his wallet and starts looking for his license.

Cop 2: Why are you all wearing stormtrooper armor anyway? Wouldn't this make more sense if we were the empire and you were the rebels?

SocioPath: That's what I've been trying to tell them.

A large figure lumbers noisily from the shadows beside the road. It is Zorblag: a bearded, green giant. He stomps up the hill, gaining the full attention of the policemen, who start to look nervous. As he gets closer, Cop 2 retreats around the van to cower next to his partner. Zorblag walks right up to them.

Zorblag: Hello officers. Troll be wondering why you be here harassing these harmless people while others be robbing the liquor store right around the corner.

Cop 2: There isn't a liquor store-

Zorblag leans over really close and grins at them menacingly.

Cop 1: (aside) Shut up. (to Zorblag) Oh. that liquor store...

Cop 2: Yeah. How could I be so stupid?

Cop 1: We'd better get going then.

The policemen quickly retreat to their car and drive away. Zorblag is greeted by his friends and gets into the van, which sags on its shocks beneath his great weight.

Zorblag: Is good to see you all. Where we be going?

Xine: To find jeep and the Lost Code.

Zorblag: Troll not know much about all that, but Troll certainly be okay with going on an adventure.

SocioPath: Um... actually, Zorblag... you can't be a troll.

Brandi: We're stormtroopers.

Zorblag: Troll no think them make stormtrooper armor big enough.

Brandi: Well maybe not a stormtrooper then.

Xine: How about a Wookie?

SocioPath: Not hairy enough.

Ythill: A Gamorrean?

SocioPath: Too hairy.

The group seems stumped and rides on in silence for awhile, then Zorblag's face lights up with an idea.

Zorblag: Troll be half-Wookie half-Gamorrean bounty hunter... named Troll.

Sudo_Nym: What!?! No. I don't care what ridiculous breeding theory you come up with but if I can't be a bounty hunter then nobody gets to be a goddamn bounty hunter!

Zorblag: (muttering) Hmmmm... In that case, Troll no suppose he be needing this rocket launcher.

Zorblag reaches into the folds of his clothing and withdraws the wrist-mounted device. Sudo_Nym's eyes light up and he quickly takes the device, strapping it on before anyone notices. It looks ridiculously large on him.

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Joined: June 25, 2009

Post Post #144  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:37 pm


User avatar
Joined: June 25, 2009

Post Post #145  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:38 pm

Intrepid Reporter: Welcome back to the Scummies, where we bring you another special report. But first, this just in: the Scummies have broken the not-really-live-but-pretending-to-be event attendance record, with an astounding 2,302,384 people in the stadium. I'm not sure how that is even possible, but the Nigerian prince who ran the numbers assures me that it is legit, even after I gave him $30k to double-check.

The reporter's smile disappears, replaced by an expression of grim professionalism.

Intrepid Reporter: Our top story: Strange, mutated, two-headed creatures. In eerie parallel to tonight's record-breaking award show, record numbers of these... things have been popping up in our fair community. What could be causing this epidemic? One possibility: dihydrogen monoxide.

The reporter pauses for dramatic effect.

Intrepid Reporter: Long time viewers may recall that early in my journalistic career I broke a story on the dihydrogen monoxide menace, but nothing ever came of it. The government is obviously covering something up. I remained silent until now for fear of my life, but I can do so no longer! These "hydras", as they are called by some, are slowly replacing all of our hardworking players, with their "clever names" and "higher participation". This has gone on long enough! We must ban dihydrogen monoxide once and for all, for the safety of everyone...

The reporter clears his throat, and takes a sip of water.

Intrepid Reporter: But does the conspiracy run deeper? Has this government plot grown bigger than the government was prepared for? Is anyone even in control of the situation? Is dihydrogen monoxide also responsible for Aggressive Mind Games? These are just a few of the many questions that we need to be asking ourselves. Reporting live from the Scummies 2010...

mith: On with the show! Our next presenters are first half judge Locke Lamora and second half judge DemonHybrid!

Locke Lamora: The winner of the Johnny Cochrane Award for Best Role Claim each year often has a very memorable story to tell...

DemonHybrid: Story? Like a bedtime story?

Locke Lamora:

DemonHybrid: Is it a fantasy story? With dragons?

Locke Lamora: No! Look, would you just read the teleprompter?

DemonHybrid: Sorry! Geez... let's see... memorable story to tell... oh! The winner often has a memorable story to tell about pulling the wool over the other side's eyes, dramatically winning the game, or at least making it interesting. That kind of story. Right.

Locke Lamora: This year is no exception... the winner is... Hoopla for "Paranoid Gun Owner"!

"Herm. Never been in a game with a PGO before. Let alone someone claiming PGO second post.

My head says policy lynch. My heart gets eaten by WIFOM." - Radical Hijinx

"By the way, Hoopla, if you're actually, say, a bomb or vengeful townie... then I am going to cry. Then congratulate you on a good play and slap myself for being stupid." - Inflatable Pie

mith: Each year, I personally select the winner of one award, the Name Should Be In Orange Award for Behind the Scenes Contribution. This year we had three very deserving nominees... Thesp volunteered himself in a very much needed capacity, looking over the Mini Normal games as mods approached the top of the Queue and making sure they met the requirements and restrictions, taking some of the workload from MeMe. Also nominated, for taking on a similar role - and my job was only slightly made easier by the fact that she has already been on stage twice - Hoopla, who since making her award-winning contributions in Mafia Discussion has taken on the role of group leader for Normal Game reviews. Let's get the review crew up here and show our appreciation!

Thesp, Hoopla, and the Normal Review Group of Elmo, Incognito, JDodge, MichelSablehart, Patrick, SpyreX, and Vi come on stage to cheers. They smile and wave. MichelSablehart stops as something in the audience catches his eye, and he points...

MichelSablehart: It's a Cult Leader! Get him!

The Cult Leader jumps out of his seat and makes for an exit, and the review squad chases after him... all except for Vi, who is blocked by one of the ushers.

mith: Stay on stage for a second, Vi... the others can handle that minor convenience. Besides, we have something for you.

Vel-Rahn Koon walks out with a trophy of some sort...

mith: The winner of this year's Behind the Scenes award is... Vi! Here, let me read the engraving... Ahem. "For Distinguished Service in Spambot-Fighting and General WikiAwesomeness, the 2010 Scummies Name Should Be In Orange Award - Vi".

Vi: Wow, thanks... but... er... why is it shaped like that?

mith: Go on, try it out! Here, hold it like this.

Vi holds the vaguely-DeathRay shaped trophy up, puts her finger on the trigger, and gingerly squeezes...

There is a "KABLAAM" sound, followed by a rush of air, as one of the spammers let in earlier is vaporized.

Vi: Awesome! This is great!


mith: Hm... it's a good thing we got the attendance figures in before presenting this award... anyway, congrats Vi, and thanks for all the work you do on the site!


mith: And now...

mith is interrupted as the big screen lights up and music blares through the stadium...

mith: Bah! Cut the music! Turn that off!

After a few seconds of John Philip Sousa, someone backstage throws a switch and turns the music off. And all the lights in the stadium. And mith's microphone.

mith: Not me! Just the music!

The lights come back up, finally.

mith: I thought I told you guys, no Monty Python references this year!

SaintKerrigan and Ythill: (sheepishly) Sorry!

mith: I don't know how I am still sane, dealing with this nonsense every year. Empking, just get up here and present your award...

Empking walks on to the stage... in a very silly manner...

mith: Argh!

SaintKerrigan: Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh?

mith: I give up.

mith shakes his head and wanders off as Empking finally reaches the podium in the most roundabout way possible.

Empking: I am presenting the Smooth Operator Award for Moderational Excellence... and the winner is... Flameaxe!

"This has to be one of the best modding jobs I've ever seen. BBM was always on time w/ votecounts, prods, acknowledged night actions, and in general kept the game running very smoothly; considering this is a large game, I think BBM deserves kudos for that." - Antihero

ReaperCharlie comes back on stage sans unicorn, much to the relief of mith.

ReaperCharlie: Hi everybody! It's time for me to present an award!

ReaperCharlie looks backstage for confirmation... mith nods.

ReaperCharlie: Great! I am presenting the Coffee on the Monitor Award for Funniest Player... you know, I know a few pretty funny jokes myself...

mith's eyes widen in fear of the turn this is taking...

ReaperCharlie: Here's a good one... What do you call a Unicorn's best friend?

There is an extended awkward silence as ReaperCharlie waits for some audience participation, and no one obliges...

ReaperCharlie: Give up? A CORN DOG! Hahaha... get it? Oh, how about this one... Where do unicorns go to dance?

More silence...

ReaperCharlie: No? Well I'll tell you where unicorns go to dance... they go to a CORN BALL! I kill me...

A few boos come in from the audience...

ReaperCharlie: Thank you, thank you, but please, hold your applause to the end. One last joke before I present this incredible award... this one is so funny that the other day when I heard it I just had to pour coffee on my monitor right then and there...

Fritzler: Uh, RC? You poured coffee on your monitor?

ReaperCharlie: You bet! It's just like the name of this award...

Fritzler: But... it isn't talking about pouring the coffee on the monitor... it's like a spit-take... you know? You're drinking coffee, you see something so funny you can't stop laughing even though your mouth is full of coffee, and you spew it out all over the monitor!

ReaperCharlie: Oh. Well I guess that makes sense... but you're throwing off my rhythm, I hope you haven't spoiled the joke! No, no, I'm just kidding folks, this one is so funny that nothing could stop you from laughing at it. Are you ready?

A tomato sails in from the crowd, narrowly missing ReaperCharlie's head.

ReaperCharlie: Oh, thank you! I had a lovely snack backstage, though, I'm not hungry. Now then... What do you get when you breed a unicorn with a cow? CORNED BEEF! Ahahaha...

ReaperCharlie falls over laughing, tears streaming down his face... mith sighs and motions to Fritzler to take his place at the podium before there is a riot, and he picks up the envelope to read...

Fritzler: The winner is... hitogoroshi!

ReaperCharlie: Corned beef... ahahaha...

mith: And now, to present our next award, is...

mith's voice trails off and he stares as Seraphim walks on the stage and up to the podium, the Hannibal Lecter award in his hands.

mith: Hold it, I know you're not the person we got to present that.

Seraphim: Yes I am, actually.

mith: No, I clearly recall--

Seraphim: Hey, if you don't believe it, check with him, but I'm definitely the guy. Now if you don't mind, you're crimping my image.

mith looks offstage at the Masked Figure, who nods back at him. Shrugging, mith leaves Seraphim to his presentation and strides off the stage to the Masked Figure.

mith: What's going on here? Do you know how much work it took for me to get Julian Assange to do the presentation?

Onstage, Seraphim steps up to the microphone.

Seraphim: It's hard enough to win a game as either town or mafia, but it becomes even tougher when you aren't with the town or the mafia...

Masked Figure: Don't sweat it, mith. The person who wanted Seraphim doing the presentation gave us a hefty sum to make the switch. Just think of what we could do with fifty million dollars!

Seraphim: So when someone performs exceptionally well as a third party, it should be recognized. This year, we had plenty of stellar performances from third parties. Choosing from among them was difficult, but there can only be one...

mith: But why would someone want to swap Seraphim into the presentations that badly? It just doesn't make sense!

Seraphim: The winner of the Hannibal Lecter Award for Best Third Party Performance is...lewarcher82 as "Bulletproof Neighbor Serial Killer"!

lewarcher82 steps onto the stage and begins to walk toward the podium. Suddenly, an orange, plastic arrow drills into Seraphim's forehead; the arrowhead and part of the shaft poke out the back of his skull. Wordlessly Seraphim collapses to the floor, the Hannibal Lecter award rolling out of his hands a few feet away from him. lewarcher82 freezes briefly, then scrambles offstage.

mith: Dear god!

mith darts onstage and checks Seraphim's pulse.

mith: Dead. But why...

mith's eyes fix themselves upon a note, attached to the back of the arrow in Seraphim's skull. Carefully mith takes the note, unfolds it, and reads:

This man was but one of many who callously took my life on the first night of a game. Now he is but the first of many to suffer my vengeful wrath. Let all who have killed me on Night One beware: your time has come! For I, MagnaofIllusion, shall not rest until every last one of you is dead...

mith drops the note.

mith: Magna...oh, no...

lewarcher82 steps back on the stage.

lewarcher82: So can I have the award now or what?

"I have to give congrats to Lewarcher for winning a game as SK that most of the reviewers thought was an impossible situation for the SK to make the kills he needed to, which was easily proven wrong." - Seraphim

"After doing a reread and really thinking about it for me its Lew.

VPB did a great job and there's a special place there but Lew WAS Kaiser Soze." - SpyreX

The Millennium Punkin rolls to a stop in a residential neighborhood. The door slides open and the scumstormtroopers pour out, all of them taking tactical poses except Brandi who is standing there looking confusedly from her cell phone to the surrounding area and then back to her phone. There is a long, uncomfortable pause.

Sudo_Nym: Uh... Brandi?

Xine: Which way is it?

Brandi: I'm not really sure where we are.

People sigh and come in from the perimeter, all of them crowding Brandi to have a look at the phone.

Ythill: The probe droids indicate that-

SocioPath: Did you just refer to Google Maps as the probe droids?

Xine: (pointing) It's that way.

The group heads off down the street in the direction Xine indicated. They wander about half a block before they are halted by a mysterious figure that steps from a driveway. It's Internet Stranger dressed as a scoundrel. He has his Laser Tag rifle pointed right at them.

Obi-wan: Rebel scum!

Internet Stranger: Right you are, little turncoat Ewok. You'll never get your hands on the Lost Code. This is where the empire falls.

Xine: What are you going to do, shoot us with a Laser Tag gun?

Internet Stranger: That's all you have.

SocioPath: But you're outnumbered.

Brandi: And we have a tro-

SocioPath: A half-Wookie, half-Gamorrean bount-

Sudo_Nym: Swoop bike racer.

Zorblag: Named Troll.

Brandi: And an Ewok.

Obi-wan: Rebel scum.

SocioPath: And I think we've all seen what an Ewok can do with some logs and rocks.

Internet Stranger: (laughs heartily) Is that so? Well, I've got a Jedi. That's right. His name is HackerHuck and he's a real, actual, Jedi knight with force powers and a lightsaber and everything. He's hiding right now but all I have to do is give him the cue and he'll jump out and... (looks around pensively) ...I said, as soon as I give him his cue... he'll jump... out... (to the bushes) Cue! Cue! I said cue!

No Jedi appears. Instead, Miyu steps from around the bushes. She's dressed in stormtrooper armor and is carrying HackerHuck's plastic lightsaber, which she tosses onto the ground.

Miyu: I don't think your friend is going to make it to the party.

Everyone, including Internet Stranger, either gives her a suspicious look or a conspiratorial one. She tries to look innocent but it isn't convincing.

Miyu: What? I didn't kill him. I swear! I just tied him up. Seriously, you can go check.

Internet Stranger: Well, it doesn't matter if you've waylaid my Jedi, imperial swine, because I have this.

He pulls out a jar of honey and displays it menacingly. Everyone gasps melodramatically except SocioPath, who is not impressed.

SocioPath: You're threatening us with honey?

Internet Stranger: It's not honey, you fool. This is a cleverly disguised thermal detonator.

SocioPath: That's ridiculous. It's clearly honey.

Internet Stranger: No it isn't. Listen, what sort of bounty hunter carries around honey? Bounty hunters carry thermal detonators. I am a bounty hunter, therefore-

Sudo_Nym: Fffffffuuuuuuuuuuuu-

Zorblag: Troll no think you should have said-

Enraged, Sudo_Nym uses both hands to aim his giant-sized wrist-rocket at Internet Stranger and pull the trigger. The kick knocks him back against some shrubs. The rocket spirals through the crowd and narrowly misses Internet Stranger. All of the troopers gaze back at Sudo_Nym in disbelief. The rocket hits a car parked across the street and there is a gigantic explosion that has everyone ducking for cover.

Internet Stranger: You guys are crazy! Damn! I could'a been... fuck this.

He makes a hurried exit. Everyone else is still gaping at Sudo_Nym.

Sudo_Nym: What? I didn't know it was a real rocket launcher. I mean, seriously Zorb? A real rocket launcher? Why would you even have one of those?

Zorblag: (looking innocent) Well... you know...

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Post Post #146  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:39 pm


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Joined: June 25, 2009

Post Post #147  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:39 pm

mith: It appears we have a stunning revelation in the Aggressive Mind Games story... we go live to Russia for the scoop...

Intrepid Reporter: mith, I didn't believe it myself, but numerous anonymous sources have confirmed the truth, and the effect it will have on is simply mind-blowing... but first, a touching story of survival...

Video begins to play of the Intrepid reporter standing inside a bland hospital room. Sitting up on the hospital bed next to the reporter is a badly-bruised, pale-skinned man, with red marks around his eyes.

Intrepid Reporter: I'm standing in--

The Intrepid Reporter's lips move, but the audio dies out for a few words. A subtitle, aligned to the right-hand side of the screen, reads:


Intrepid Reporter: and here with me is Thok, one of nine people who recently survived a most traumatic experience. Tell us exactly what happened, Thok.

Thok: It was about six months night I went to bed, and when I woke up I was strapped into a chair, by myself, with my eyes held open, an IV in my right arm, all kinds of wires attached to my head--

Intrepid Reporter: You can cut to the chase.

Thok: We were forced to play a game of chess. Seven people for white, isolated from each other except for some kind of wireless communication during our move, versus two people playing black, able to talk with each other all the time. They kept shooting something through those IVs, they never let us fall asleep! Every single moment, spent on the game, with no sense of how long you've been playing!

Intrepid Reporter: And how did that make you feel?

Thok: It was hell, pure hell. And from what I've been told, I was only in that underground bunker for six months. Some of the others...Indigo Heron, they had him in there from the very start. And poor SaintKerrigan...the chap died from sheer exhaustion, and they just resurrected him and threw him back in! But there were so many others that those monsters didn't even bother resurrecting--

The Intrepid Reporter presses on his earpiece. A worried look appears on his face.

Intrepid Reporter: Sad, yes indeed. Did your captors tell you why they did this?

Thok: No. They betrayed nothing, not even the slightest hint of what they were after when they barked their orders at us. But when Sudo_Nym and Herodotus--

Intrepid Reporter: Wait, who?

Thok: Um, when the black players broke us out, I stumbled on a tiny storage device that might have pertinent information. And I hid it in the one place no one would ever look for it...

Thok slowly reaches for his right index finger, pries up the fingernail, and pulls out a very small USB stick. He holds it out to the Intrepid Reporter, blood and all, and the Intrepid Reporter takes it.

Intrepid Reporter: One more question: how did the black players themselves get out?

Thok: You know...they never told us, and we never asked. We were just trying to get out of--

Intrepid Reporter: And there you have it, folks. Almost two years of grueling, sadistic chess. I don't know about you, but I'm going to stick with checkers. Reporting live from


I'm the Intrepid Reporter, for mafiascum news.

Intrepid Reporter: Incredible. Finally... Aggressive Mind Games. When I started this investigation, I wasn't sure where it might take me. Some of my colleagues laughed it off as a myth, and story told to scare the newbies... but I was resolute. I went where no other journalist was willing to go, and after chasing a number of false leads, I have finally, thanks to the information contained on Thok's painfully hidden USB drive, reached the truth...

A shot rings out. There is a shout from behind the camera as a circle of blood appears on the reporter's forehead. The reporter's eyes roll back in his head, and he limply falls to the ground. The camera drops as well as the cameraman faints or runs away in terror, landing beside the reporter to give one final full-screen shot of the ghastly horror before exploding into static...

mith: Drats, lost another one. Oh well, at least he wasn't about to say something important. Let's carry on with the Scummies, it's what our dearly departed intrepid reporter would want. Let's welcome zoraster and mykonian to the stage, representing the first and second halves respectively!

zoraster: Uh, mith? The teleprompter is blank.

mykonian: Maybe it's a hint that we're supposed to not say anything?

zoraster: Hm, that might be it. Anything we say will just pale in comparison to the writing of this year's winner.

mykonian: That's true.

zoraster: So why are we still talking?

mykonian: mith won't stop typing?

zoraster: Oh. Well, he should.

mykonian: Is there anything we can do about it?

zoraster: We could refuse to talk.

mykonian: How?

zoraster: Like... protest. You know. Get signs and stuff. Like ReaperCharlie earlier.

mykonian: No, I don't mean how should we do it... I mean how can we? If he's making us talk, then...

zoraster: Oh, dear. This may go on for a bit, huh.

mykonian: Yep.

Meanwhile, backstage...

animorpherv1: Cool! Backstage at the SCUMMIES! I’ve never been backstage before!

Haylen then enters, dressed like a duck, swooping in from the sky, followed by a swarm of exactly 42 ducks, in a 6x7 pattern behind Haylen.

animorpherv1: Hayl, why do you have exactly 42 ducks following you?

Haylen: Geez, you count fast.

animorpherv1: No, I just took notice to the narrator’s comments.

Haylen: Oh. Well, I’ve been taking prominent mafiascum members and turning them into ducks! (pointing to mith-duck, which is acting very administrator-ish) This one is mith. This one is Flay... And this one is PokerFace! I’m too lazy to show you the rest...

Haylen points to PokerFace-duck. PokerFace-duck is dressed very Gaga-ish, and quacking along to what must be Lady Gaga’s song “PokerFace”.

animorpherv1: Please turn them back. We’re not finished the Scummies yet! We sort of NEED THEM!

Haylen: No. They are my ducks, MINE! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- OOF!

While laughing, PranaDevil shows up and pushes over Haylen.

PranaDevil: OK, she’s unconscious now. How do we turn them back?

animorpherv1: I have no clue. I’m going to quickly poke my head out and see how the crowd is doing.

animorpherv1 pokes his head out. The entire crowd has been turned into ducks.

animorpherv1: Yeah, obviously Haylen has no idea what prominent means. The entire crowd are all ducks!

PranaDevil: Well, that’s not cool. But I think I found it!

PranaDevil presses this button that says “In case of Emergency”. Everyone turns back into humans.

PokerFace: Why am I dressed like Gaga?

mith: All that matters is that we can continue the Scummies. Thank you PranaDevil! You are the new junior admin!

PranaDevil: (pleased) Thank you mith!!!

PranaDevil jerks awake in his seat, as zoraster and mykonian continue their endless back-and-forth banter.

PranaDevil: (mumbling) It was only a dream... not a junior admin... no Mildred... this sucks.

Then zoraster says something so incredibly funny that it gives life a whole new meaning. Everything is ok. PranaDevil perks up, adjusts his posture, and resolves to stop chasing tail. At least the kind with feathers. It's going to be a wonderful year.

Sadly, you have been too busy paying attention to PranaDevil to recall exactly what it was zoraster said. Oops.

mykonian: Right. But first he has to type this: The winner of the Paperback Writer Award for Best Flavor Text is...

zoraster: SaintKerrigan for Descent into Chaos!

Sapphire City. The capital city of Undolin, and the center of the kingdom's pride. In this metropolis many marvels could be found, from the mechanical wonders produced by Undolin's talented engineers to the sumptuous beauty of the paintings, sculptures, and other items spawning from the minds within the Artisan's Guild. Its location on the Heartland River made it a vital trade port, receiving cargo and supplies from the ports on the eastern ocean and shipping them to various inland cities, as well as exporting inland goods to seaward shores.

Arguably the city's greatest accomplishment, however, lay in the Sorcerer's Tower near the town's center. Standing eight stories tall and furnished with ornate architecture and divine decorations, it was an architectural achievement on par with the Sapphire Castle itself. Here was the kingdom's most elite academy for sorcerers, the place sorcerers went after they got their basic education. The Guild of Sorcerer's was also headquartered in this building, and from here mankind's interaction with the daemonic arts was severely scrutinized and judged.

It was hard to get into this building as a sorcerer, let alone a scribe like me. And yet here I was, standing by a wall made of a translucent compound Abner called "glass," gazing out at the wonderful city.

"It's so beautiful," I remarked. "You get to see this every day?"

Abner nodded. "You do get used to it, though. However, if you could just tear your eyes away from the panoramic view for a moment, I'd like you to meet someone."

I turned, and standing next to Abner was one of the most beautiful women my eyes had ever seen. Her long black hair cascaded in curls onto her shoulders and across her bosom, her smoldering green eyes gazed at me with an intensity I can't even begin to describe, and the sleeveless red garment she wore fit her ample figure snugly. I forced myself to keep looking into her eyes.

"Um, hi," I said to her. "Name's- I mean, is my nam- my name Santas-" I stopped suddenly, seemingly unable to form any words whatsoever. Way to make a first impression.

The woman giggled. "They fall for it every time," she remarked to Abner.

"Because a woman of your beauty normal would elicit such a response," Abner replied. "Now, would you be so kind as to untie my friend's tongue and introduce yourself?"

She shrugged and looked at me. "My apologies, I enjoy putting men under my thrall. I am Alicia Tabbernathy. I specialize in the mind-altering arts of magic."

"I see," I replied. "I'm Santas. Pleased to meet you."

We shook hands, but I still couldn't forget about how easily she managed to manipulate my mind. As other sorcerers and sorceresses from the party gathered in greeting, I couldn't help but wonder in fear what would happen should any one of these powerful humans go rogue...

mith: Presenting our next, and final, body-of-work awards for the evening... two judges who are also members of the Scummies Steering Committee, who help organize the awards and keep the nominations updated... Faraday and SpyreX!

Faraday: Thanks, mith!

SpyreX: These awards honor excellence in play over the course of the year for each of the primary alignments in a Mafia game...

Faraday: First, the Don Corleone Award for Most Cunning Manipulator, earned through outstanding play as scum... Sotty7!

"Seriously, D1 and D2 were stellar. I was so ready for VPB to be like 'Zomg best pro town performance scummy plz' at endgame. Instead now we're sitting here with our hats off to Sotty." - xRECKONERx

"I don't really hate you. I'm just jealous of your superiority." - VP Baltar

SpyreX: Second, perhaps the most coveted of the Scummies for players...

Faraday: And this year's winner is no big surprise, as this is his second time to walk away with the award...

SpyreX: The Paragon of Mafia Hunters Award for Best Scum Catcher is... Glork!

"Glork, you were a magnificent beast and absolute kudos for turning around that game." - SpyreX

"TBH, I should be the Paragon again this year, but self-nominations are frowned upon, and people EXPECT me to be pinpoint accurate to a degree where it's not even a big deal when I point to player X, say they're scum, and happen to be right. But I'm actually playing some of the best mafia of my career right now, and if people would just do what I tell them to do, towns would win a lot more games. It's sad how many of those games towns lost because, even though I knew who the scums were, nobody fucking listens to anybody else in today's MafiaScum universe.

Arrogant, yes.
True, yes." - Glork

mith: Now, before our final commercial break of the evening, let's take a moment to remember all those who have departed the site in 2010... we hope life brings you back to visit again someday!


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Post Post #148  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:51 pm


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Joined: June 25, 2009

Post Post #149  (ISO)  » Sun Feb 27, 2011 8:52 pm

The troopers rush up the driveway in tactical formation, taking turns providing cover fire. While they are moving across the lawn, the sprinkler system comes on and they dodge the water jets long enough for one of them to get to the spigot and turn it off. Then they move up the steps and into the house. In the hallway, a large, barking dog runs at them and they shoot it with their Laser Tag guns which, of course, does nothing. When the dog is almost upon them, Brandi steps forward.

Brandi: Awwwwwww. A puppy.

The dog runs up to Brandi and wags its tail happily as she pets it. The rest of the troopers move quickly around her, taking cover between the bulkheads as they move down the corridor. Eventually they stop at a large metal blast door. Sudo_Nym tries the keypad but can't seem to figure out the locking mechanism. Zorblag tries to use brute strength to forcibly slide the doors open, to no avail.

SocioPath: There's got to be another way in.

Xine: (looking at Brandi's phone) There isn't. The whole upper level has been sealed off. This door is the only way in or out.

Sudo_Nym: Great! Now what do we do?

SocioPath: Good question, Mr. I-already-used-my-only-rocket-shooting-at-Internet-Stranger.

Sudo_Nym: Whatever, dude. He had a thermal detonator.

Ythill: Stop squabbling. We've all risked our lives -or at least our dignity- to get here. We're not going to let a little door stop us. Now who's with me?!?

They all cheer triumphantly.

Sudo_Nym: So what are we going to do?

Ythill: I was hoping you had an idea.

Sudo_Nym: I don't. Xine? (she shakes her head) Brandi? (she shrugs) Does anyone have any idea how we can get past this door?

Miyu: We could... um...

SocioPath: We could knock.

Ythill: Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt.

Zorblag pounds resoundingly on the door. Immediately, a robotic eye pops out of a little hatch and examines them, twittering in Huttese. It disappears back into its hatch and, a moment later. The huge door slides open. jeep is standing in the corridor.

jeep: Hello there. You must be the kids Mr. Flay sent to pick up the Code.

Xine: You were expecting us?

jeep: Sure. Flay emailed me this morning, said you'd be coming by. What took you so long?

Miyu: Well, we ran into Inter-

SocioPath: We got pulled over.

jeep: And why are you all dressed as stormtroopers? I mean, wouldn't it make more sense if you were the rebel alliance and I was a Bothan spy or something?

Ythill: Could you just give us the code?

jeep shrugs and leads them into an impressive computer lab. Screens and complex control panels dot the shiny steel walls. The two most prominent features in the room are a large, blinking red button that says "execute" on it and a huge digital screen showing a video of frantic hamsters who seem to be trying to claw their way out.

jeep: Beautiful, isn't it? I digitized human behavior, isolated the desire to be unique, and then reversed it. Came up with these babies. The Lost Code, indeed. They devour irregularity. Thrive on it. Something as simple as a picture of an anteater or a quip about homosexuality will send them into a frenzy.

Everyone is listening intently to jeep except Obi-wan, who is staring wide-eyed at the "execute" button and, unbeknown to the adults, inching slowly toward it.

jeep: You see how frantic they are? They smell your silly plastic armor and your toy weapons. They smell that there's no such thing as a half-Wookie half-Gamorrean swoop bike racer and that, if there was, he wouldn't be named Troll. Your... weirdness is driving them mad with hunger.

Obi-wan: Hamster scum!

Obi-wan pushes the execute button. Red lights start flashing everywhere and an alarm begins to sound.

jeep: Noooooooooooooooo!

Suddenly, the screen begins to empty of hamsters. They pour out of speaker ports and convenient hatches, scrabbling along the walls, devouring all the exaggerated technology there.

jeep: Do you realize how long it's going to take me to get them back in there!?!

The silly comment draws a thousand beady eyes and, as one, the hamsters descend upon jeep. He disappears quickly beneath them. The companions back carefully out of the room. When the hamsters are done with jeep, they stop to stare hungrily at the retreating troopers.

Ythill: Here they come.

Brandi: They aren't cute at all.

Xine: What are we going to do?

Miyu: I've got an idea.

With all eyes on her, Miyu smiles sardonically and reveals Internet Stranger's jar of honey.

Miyu: Sudo, take off your pants.

Sudo_Nym: I've got a bad feeling about this.

Meanwhile, back in Arlington, xRECKONERx and dramonic are cuddling in a luxury box, feeding each other popcorn. They aren't paying much attention to whatever is happening on stage during the commercial break; instead, they are watching a live video feed being streamed via Forum 62 from some on-looker's smartphone.

dramonic: Oh... Sudo...

xRECKONERx: Don't... oh...

Unable to look away, they sit in a stunned silence...

xRECKONERx: That's a lot of hamsters...

dramonic: Who would've thought that Sudo_Nym would out-do you in the off-color sexual decision department?


dramonic: Sorry! But you know what I mean...

xRECKONERx:, you're right. I should be mad that he's upstaging me, but really, I'm just proud.

dramonic: I just hope he's thoughtful and makes the hamsters some waffles after... well, whatever the hell is going on there...

Off stage, a few workmen are standing near a large bay door. In front of the door, two stormtroopers stand at attention, guarding a large pair of pants that are tied off at the ankles and waist and stretched to their absolute limit by some writhing mass that they are barely able to contain. The workmen appear to be afraid of the delivery. A foreman, looking ashen and nervous, rushes into the room.

Workman: Did you find him?

Foreman: Yes, yes! Here he comes! Everyone look lively!

The workmen quickly busy themselves with pointless tasks. Some carry boxes from one pile to another, others grab boxes from the second pile and move them to the first. One guy starts polishing a stormtrooper. Heavy footsteps can be heard from the hallway and then Mr. Flay enters, looking important. The workmen stop what they are doing and drop to their knees in supplication. The foreman falls to one knee and bows his head.

Foreman: M'lord. This package arrived moments ago via teleporter, compliments of Darth Fabio.

Mr. Flay: Excellent. Now there is nothing that can stop us.

Foreman: Um... sir? With all due respect, what's in there?

Workman: And why are they all sticky?

Mr. Flay: Enough questions. Foreman, have your men move this package to my personal vault. (to the workmen) And be careful! It will mean doom for all of us if we are not fully prepared before releasing the awesome fury trapped in these pants!

mith: Only a few awards left for this year's Scummies... presenting our Best Performance Oscars, the remaining members of the Scummies Steering Committee: JDodge, Kison, and Shanba!

JDodge: Thanks mith! And I've got to give a quick plug for RadioScum, the third incarnation of's unofficial user-run radio station...

Kison: Just as the previous two awards recognize exceptional play by individuals on each side of the game, the awards we are presenting represent the pinnacle of team play for the year.

Shanba: First, for the Mafia... the Oscar for Best Performance: Scum Group...

JDodge: The 2010 Scummie goes to... The Mafia of Pledge of Allegiance: Chronopie, Debonair Danny DiPietro, DrippingGoofball, Gammagooey, and RedCoyote!

"It's pledge of allegiance and it's not even that close.

They were helped by quite a few neutrals dying but they outplayed the town completely." - Faraday

Kison: And now, one for the good guys.

Shanba: This town lynched flawlessly, winning in five days with five straight scum lynches.

JDodge: The Oscar for Best Performance: Pro-Town...

Kison: ...goes to The Town of Pick Your Power!

"But to me I think it was just a powerful town. Quite a lot of people played well and deserve praise but to be honest, there were so few weak links mentioning names seems to me to cheapen it somehow. I'm just glad I could be a part of a game like this, it was fantastic." - SerialClergyman

"Let me say that this was a fun game. Initially, after draft I was thinking the Cop, Tracker, Empowerer mafia would have a solid lead. Show me that a good town is a great tool though.

All in all I was more than impressed with the speed and activity. AND the fact I didn't have to really step in on anything. There's no single MVP because you're all MVP's in my heart <3." - SpyreX

mith: The awards this evening have covered many facets of the game: from individual play to team performance; from game theory to entertainment; from design to writing to game-running. But sometimes, it just all comes together. That's what the Player's Choice Award for Most Enjoyable Game signifies - the game of the year which best blended quality design and flavor, skill and participation from all alignments, and, most importantly, that ever elusive factor: fun. The 2010 Scummie winner is, chosen in large part by players of the nominated games... The Lord of the Rings Mafia!

"EPIC EPIC EPIC EPIC GAME ANDY AND PLUM. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3. This is hands down the best game I've ever played in this site so far. So memorable!" - VasudeVa

"Awesome game ... this was the most fun I've had in mafia for a long time. I loved our mason thing and there were enough twists and turns that the game was challenging and always entertaining." - Katy

mith: It's nearly time for us to wrap up here at the 2010 Scummies... Remember that next month is International Mafia Month, culminating in another Marathon Weekend celebrating's 9th anniversary... stay tuned for details!

Before we go... we have one final award... For the first time ever, we are honoring a long-time member with a Lifetime Achievement Award...

The audience stands and cheers in anticipation of the award presentation, continuing throughout...

mith: I am sure you can all guess who this award is for, and that speaks volumes about how integral to the site she has been over the years. has been around since 2002 - since 2003, this List Mod managed the largest moderator queues on the site, not only dealing personally with each moderator as their turns came to start a game, but also overseeing player sign-ups for each of those - over a thousand - games. When she retired from her List Mod position late last year, I chose two replacements, because the amount of work involved is far too much to ask any one person to do, but she did it without fail for seven years.

She is also a fantastic Mafia player, both on mafiascum and offline; in the very first Scummies event, she was awarded both the Hannibal Lecter Award for Best SK and the Coffee on the Monitor Award for Funniest Player. We hope that with her retirement, she will be back to play more!

Additionally, she has welcomed some of us into her home, in particular hosting in 2006 MeMeMeet, the first mafiascum-only summer meetup. She is a joy to be around, and Michelle and I are happy to count her and her family among our friends.

So... this award, along with our continued thanks and appreciation, goes to... MeMe!

The applause reaches a deafening roar...

mith: MeMe is of course on vacation from the site, taking a well-deserved break, but she is here with us live from her home in Missouri... MeMe?

A hush falls over the crowd as they look up to the big screen, the tangible promise of imparted wisdom only seconds away...

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