Big Chaos Mafia 3 - well memed

Ampharos

tag walls, punch fascists
is a Community Contributor Alumnus
empoof's role started out as a meme that went too far

i think the combination of empoof + faust + FH having free reign is what killed it

sorry village, you guys were fucked from the start. but to be fair:
a. it's a meme game
b. none of you tried particularly hard

so whatever
 

zorbees

Chwa for no reason!
is a Forum Moderator Alumnus
I, zorbees, being of sound mind and body, agree to end the game with a victory for the mafia, Former Hope, Amelia, and all five original wolves, knowing that:

The mafia cannot kill the wolves.
The wolves cannot kill all the mafia.
Breaking this balance of power would reduce anyone's chance of winning below 50%, and thus be strategically unsound.
Nobody wants to stall 10 turns for a dice roll to convert everyone.

This contract will be considered official once signed by all active wolves, Former Hope, Amelia, and at least one mafia representative with no opposition AND once a game of Everybody is John is played including Former Hope, at the convenience of those involved.

Signed,
zorbees
 

Yeti

dark saturday
is a Community Contributor Alumnus
My complaint about Coach This farce of a game as hosted by Walrein
Last week marked the beginning of a social and political wave of hatred and uppish unilateralism emanating from the violent rhetoric of insidious coofs. These people are so blinded by Coach This farce of a game as hosted by Walrein 's vindictive, costive sound bites that they cannot comprehend that This farce of a game does not often exhibit tact or flexibility. It may help if I begin my discussion by relating an innocuous story in order to illustrate my point: A few days ago I was arguing with a particularly intransigent losel who was insisting that This farce of a game never engages in gloomy, unprincipled, or deluded politics. I tried to convince this mutinous leguleian that This farce of a game alleges that ethical responsibility is merely a trammel of earthbound mortals and should not be required of a demigod like him. This is hardly the case. Rather, there is growing evidence that says, to the contrary, that he has written volumes about how people prefer “cultural integrity” and “multicultural sensitivity” to health, food, safety, and the opportunity to choose their own course through life. Don't believe a word of it, though. The truth is that this is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Let me therefore state that it is because of This farce of a game's dysgenic practices we have manipulative mobocrats promoting a culture of dependency and failure. (The merits of This farce of a game's campaigns of terror won't be discussed here because they lack merit.)

Does This farce of a game do research before he reports things, or does he just guess and hope he's right? The reason I ask is that This farce of a game justifies his egotistical words with fallacious logical arguments based on argumentum ad baculum. In case you're unfamiliar with the term, it means that if we don't accept This farce of a game's claim that he is the arbiter of all things then he will attack the fabric of this nation. He has no table manners. That's too big of a subject to get into here so let me instead discuss how This farce of a game's habitués resist seeing that there is reason to fear that self-aggrandizing, delusional schizophrenics will establish a world government complete with a world army, a world parliament, a world court, and numerous other agencies that desecrate personal religious objects in the blink of an eye. They resist seeing such things because to see them, to examine them, to think about them and draw conclusions from them is to stand uncompromised in a world that's on the brink of This farce of a game-induced disaster. If he sincerely believes that everything is happy and fine and good then he must be smoking something illegal. I know through painful experience that there is an implicit assumption here that This farce of a game prefers to see problems talked to death instead of solved. The more I reflect on such things, the more deeply I believe that This farce of a game's socially inept form of vandalism is like a forest fire. Once it is started, none can set bounds to the resulting conflagration. The only option is to tackle the multinational death machine that This farce of a game is currently constructing. While doing so won't put a stop to vandalism, it will demonstrate decisively that if it were up to This farce of a game, we'd all be grazing contentedly in the pasture of McCarthyism right now. We'd be thoroughly unaware of the fact that the implications of this are obvious. To spell it out, though, if today we don't begin the invigorating, rejuvenating process of focusing on concrete facts, on hard news, on analyzing and interpreting what's happening in the world, then tomorrow we'll have to put up with him fostering corruption and repression.

You shouldn't let This farce of a game intimidate you. You shouldn't let him push you around. We're the ones who are right, not This farce of a game. Here's an idea: Instead of giving him the ability to create a mass psychology of fear about an imminent terrorist threat, why don't we commit to practices that build community and eliminate behaviors that work against what we are dedicated to building? If we do, we'll then be able to look into the future and consider what will happen if we let him scatter about in profusion an abundance of pro-This farce of a game sentiments.

This farce of a game's smears are a logical absurdity, a series of deductions from a premise that has been denied. Speaking of absurdities, whenever This farce of a game is presented with the statement that his cultists have decided, behind closed doors and in closed sessions, to introduce, cultivate, and encourage moral rot, he spews out the hackneyed excuse that he is a paragon of morality and wisdom. Ironically, such screwball logic is likely to convince even more people that This farce of a game will probably never understand why he scares me so much. And he unmistakably does scare me: His adages are scary, his undertakings are scary, and most of all, it will not be easy to keep his supporters at bay. Nevertheless, we must attempt to do exactly that for the overriding reason that if This farce of a game continues to fund, assemble, and train appalling jobbernowls to unleash horrific levels of violence, I will undoubtedly be obliged to do something about him. And you know me: I myself never neglect my obligations. It may not be within the scope of this letter to encourage people to provide you with a holistic and thematic history of This farce of a game's slaphappy, whiney sophistries, but I would like to mention that This farce of a game's ruminations provide a vivid example of how I must defend my honor. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with anything. Rather, I say it as someone who firmly believes that conclaves of This farce of a game's allies have all the dissent found in a North Korean communist party meeting. That's why no one there will ever admit that when I first realized that This farce of a game's stinking plans for the future hurt the pocketbooks of working families, a cold shudder ran down my back. (Note the heroic restraint stopping me from saying that This farce of a game tends to forget what matters most.)

We must maximize our individual potential for effectiveness and success in combatting This farce of a game. To do anything else, and I do mean anything else, is a complete waste of time. The time has come to choose between freedom or slavery, revolt or submission, and liberty or This farce of a game's particularly feebleminded form of neopaganism. It's clear what This farce of a game wants us to choose, but my goal is to cultivate people's minds and refine their judgment. I will not stint in my labor in this direction. When I have succeeded, the whole world will know that negligent, inattentive disinformation artists are somehow fascinated by This farce of a game's dastardly diablerie, just as a dove is sometimes charmed by a glittering serpent. Unfortunately for such people, This farce of a game should stop bombarding us with his politically incorrect glaikery. In this context, the opposite of political incorrectness is not political correctness but rather an objective quest for knowledge. As we all know, most disorganized schmegeggies lack any knowledge about how This farce of a game equates non-cooperation and solitariness with individuality. To fully understand that, you need to realize that he follows a dual code of morality—one morality for his fellow prurient backstabbers and another for the rest of the world. This is why the diplomatic and technical skills acquired through the creation of institutions and treaties geared towards showing pluck and optimism when presented with threats and terror can provide powerful models and experience for calling for a return to the values that made this country great. As this letter draws to a close, I should state that I regret not having been able to say more about how it is easier for me to imagine a million-dimensional vector space than the number of inconsistencies in Coach This farce of a game as hosted by Walrein 's tricks. However, I hope I've told you enough to spur you on to find out more for yourself.
 
I, PAPERBLADE, being of sound mind and body, agree to end the game with a victory for the mafia, Former Hope, Amelia, and all five original wolves, knowing that:

The mafia cannot kill the wolves.
The wolves cannot kill all the mafia.
Breaking this balance of power would reduce anyone's chance of winning below 50%, and thus be strategically unsound.
Nobody wants to stall 10 turns for a dice roll to convert everyone.

This contract will be considered official once signed by all active wolves, Former Hope, Amelia, and at least one mafia representative with no opposition AND once a game of Everybody is John is played including Former Hope, at the convenience of those involved.

Signed,
PAPERBLADE
 
I, Former Hope, being of sound mind and body, agree to end the game with a victory for the mafia, Former Hope, Amelia, and all five original wolves, knowing that:

The mafia cannot kill the wolves.
The wolves cannot kill all the mafia.
Breaking this balance of power would reduce anyone's chance of winning below 50%, and thus be strategically unsound.
Nobody wants to stall 10 turns for a dice roll to convert everyone.

This contract will be considered official once signed by all active wolves, Former Hope, Amelia, and at least one mafia representative with no opposition AND once a game of Everybody is John is played including Former Hope, at the convenience of those involved.

Signed,
Former Hope
 

Ampharos

tag walls, punch fascists
is a Community Contributor Alumnus
alright the john game happened

Game Over

Congrats to the NWO/converted neutral coalition for winning.

This consists of the following players:
Thetwinmasters
vonFiedler
Agape
UncleSam (honorary mention to Jalmont because i nearly subbed him into this slot like 3 times)
Flyhn
Cancerous
Empoof
Borath the Oscillator
LightWolf
Paperblade
Amelia
Hitmonleet
Former Hope
Aura Guardian
KnightsOfCydonia

role PM dump coming. pretty much every nightkill-revealed PM was fake
 
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Goddamnit couldn't you have given me some more time to sign the contract as well?

I, Amelia, being of sound mind and body, agree to end the game with a victory for the mafia, Former Hope, Amelia, and all five original wolves, knowing that:

The mafia cannot kill the wolves.
The wolves cannot kill all the mafia.
Breaking this balance of power would reduce anyone's chance of winning below 50%, and thus be strategically unsound.
Nobody wants to stall 10 turns for a dice roll to convert everyone.

This contract will be considered official once signed by all active wolves, Former Hope, Amelia, and at least one mafia representative with no opposition AND once a game of Everybody is John is played including Former Hope, at the convenience of those involved.

Signed,
Amelia
 
So John woke up in a nice bed in a nice room. Shoulda been the first sign that shit was fucked up. I took control and made my way into a garden where the plants were being watered by a rain of blood. Fuck that shit, I'm getting out of there by the nearest door. I end up at a barricade where two survivors ask me if I'm a doppleganger. I almost considered asking them how I would know if I was a doppleganger, but they had guns, so I just asked how can someone be physically proven to be a doppleganger. They laughed and told me to go bring one back. Those chucklefucks were useless to me with the barricade in the way, so I headed out. There was a corpse pile which I couldn't do anything with and a bigass hole in the floor. I avoided both and went into another room where I heard a woman crying for help. Finding a sturdy stick, I went to investigate. You'd think a chick trapped under concrete wouldn't be any threat, but it was a doppelganger trap. And I totally didn't get my arm trapped in concrete, no sirree. I smacked the bitch out with a stick, lost control when she got back up, and got John's head slammed against the concrete. Lights out, yo.

From there Shub took over, completely trapped underneath the concrete block. After failing the first attempt at scrambling out, John succeeded and snatched up the stick, once again trying to fight the doppelganger. At which he incredibly failed and also fell unconscious.

John woke up to the sound of blades on blades in a mad scientist's workshop. He was strapped to a table. Luckily, I was at the wheel again. The restraints were pinning me down, so I broke the pin like I won the belt and challenged Dr. Oathday. He almost didn't agree, but I'm good at talking people into doing stuff. We wrassled and I won. He begged for his life and I asked him where the dopplegangers were. He said some stuff about an asylum and some sort of yellow thing and I just left him with the sting of defeat. I didn't want to deal with those guys at the barricade again, so I decided to take on the hole. I didn't have a turnbuckle to jump from, so I just jumped. John blacked out and I lost control.

Shubaka's running the show again. There's a tunnel leading to a library at the bottom of the hole. In the library were a bunch of cultists shouting "Praise Zebulon" over and over. Some Z name. They're dressed in yellow, so Shub assumed them to be Bruins fans and challenged them to a game of hockey. Which worked until a rat dude stole the book being used for a puck. A bunch of rat dudes come in and Shubaka tried and failed to punch one in the face. Back to me. Obviously the best way to solve this is to have a tag team match. Everyone agrees. Unfortunately, I get to be the referee. Rat people win the match.

And that's when the rat people said "Let's eat the referee." Dude, don't, I'm the referee. You're gonna hafta wrassle me for the right to eat me. Three of them, but they're really short. I can take 'em.

Of course I rolled a critical 1. Ullar rolls to see which limb I lose. Right leg. How am I gonna wrassle with just one leg? Whatever, voice channel was stuttering too hard for me to really hear after that.

Former's turn to steer John. And then Former realized he didn't actually need to win the game and made John stab himself though the chest with his own leg. Spent 8 will points to roll 13. Holy shit, dude.


Winner: Knights and Shub (tie)
KnightsofCydonia - defeat someone in a consensual wrassling match
Shubaka - knock someone's teeth out and/or play hockey
Von - something about big cats?
Former - found a Mafia family (i think that's what it was; vc was stuttering pretty bad at that point)
 
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