|Brush Up Mafia|
|Host||tpaxatb & scsw|
|Link||Brush Up Mafia|
|Size||7 Players (Tiny)|
|Roster|| 1) DudleyDude|
|First to Die||CrazyPainter|
|Last Remaining|| 1) DudleyDude|
It began on September 9th, 2009 and ended in a Baddie win after D2 (September 13th, 2009).
- Last faction standing WINS!
- Rogue Cop's blocks revealed ONLY to the player being blocked (along with the short message). Blocks otherwise not revealed.
- Rogue Cop's blocks are not blockable by the Sergeant (e.g. Rogue Cop blocks Sniper, Sergeant blocks rogue cop, Sniper's action is still nullified).
- El Jefe's kill fails if the Sergeant blocks the El Jefe and the Sergeant was not blocked by the Rogue Cop (even if the killer was targeting the Sergeant)
- El Jefe's kill fails if the Paramedic saves the target and the Paramedic was not blocked by either the Rogue Cop or the Sergeant.
- No player is removed in a tied lynch.
- Players that come out with their roles without being probed/pressured for it will be punished by loss of ability the following night.
- Order: Rogue Cop blocks > Sergeant blocks > Saves > Kills > Spies
- Killed players' actions will still take place.
- Police Chief (Host): tpaxatb. Maintains order amongst the players. Ensures a smooth and fun game for all. But he's rather dumb, so....
- Assistant Police Chief (co-Host): scsw. Helps to maintain order. Makes sure the chief is apprised of all problems and helps chief figure stuff out.
Los Pollos Locos - HAVE BTSC
- El Jefe - Every Night Kill. Los Pollos Locos leader attempting to take over Manicomio's only police precinct, Precinct 13. As the leader of the gang, can select one cop every night and mark him for death.
- Rogue Cop - Every ODD night block. If El Jefe is killed, gains Every Night Kill. A police officer of Precint 13 that has already been corrupted by El Jefe and is working from the inside. As he has access to all the cops, even those inside the building, he can "send a message" from the gang to any other officer every ODD night. And by sending a message, I mean he roughs up another officer. Along with this rough-up, he can give the host a short message to pass along to the officer during the beat down. If El Jefe is killed, he will be so worried that he will be caught that he will start killing on his own.
- Officers of Manicomio's Precinct 13 - NO BTSC
- Precinct Sergeant - Every Night Block. As the precinct's sergeant, he uses his supervisory power to prevent a player's actions from occurring by changing his assignment that night. Only the officer who has had his assignment changed will be notified if necessary.
- SWAT Sniper - Starting Night 2: Every night, but not 2 in a row, Kill. Cannot be killed night 1. The precinct's best and surest shot. Beginning on night 2, will become so frustrated with the progress of finding the rogue that he will start killing one selected person at night. However, killing someone makes him so distraught that he will be unable to kill the following night. In addition, because of his body armor, he is immune from attack on night 1.
- Undercover Cop - Every Night FACTION Spy. The precinct's resident master of disguise. Every night, he uses his skills of disguise to infiltrate his selected target's home and can determine to which faction a player belongs.
- Detective - Every Night ACTION Spy. A seasoned veteran of the force, he uses his network of anonymous informants each night to determine a player's actions.
- Paramedic - Every Night Save. Cannot save same person two nights in a row. Cannot save self. The assistant chief, being a smart man and realizing that there is the potential for a lot of bloodshed, decited to bring in a paramedic for the week. An aspiring cop himself, the Paramedic rides along with a player each night. If that player is attacked, he uses his medical skills to save the player. Cannot ride along with the same officer two nights in a row,. Because he needs a partner, he cannot ride along alone so he cannot save himself.
- DudleyDude - Rogue Cop
- Prince_Marth - El Jefe
Day and Night Posts
|The police chief, tpaxatb, examined the memo. He thought about filing it away in his favorite filing cabinet, the trash can, but thought better of it.
"scsw, get in here!"
His assistant chief entered the room. "You rang, sir?"
"Have you seen this memo about Los Pollos Locos?" the chief inquired. He let the insubordination slide. There were bigger fish to fry this day.
"Yeah, but I didn't think much of it. I mean, what are the odds of that happening?"
"I know, but we'll have to take this threat seriously. This is a pretty serious charge the mayor is making. A rogue cop in our department? Who'd believe that? I told the mayor that giving the number 13 to our town's ONLY precinct was a bad idea. What was he thinking? First the hippies, and now this! Never mind, that's a question for another time."
"Okaaaay," scsw replied. He knew the chief's rants could ramble on and on for hours, and prepared himself for the worst. This, however, was one of those rare times that the chief decided to stay on point.
"Look. I know that the odds are long, but tell the Sergeant that at the next roll call, he is to prepare the troops for a THOROUGH house cleaning. We'll go through this precinct one cop at a time if we have to and find the rogue! Then we can take care of this 'Crazy Chicken' nonsense."
"Yes, sir," mumbled scsw as he left the chief's office. Unlike the chief, he was more pragmatic, and knew that a house cleaning would be a blood-letting affair.
El Jefe examined the faces around him in his new headquarters. Like many inner city transplants, he felt most comfortable surrounded by amigos who shared a common goal. For some odd reason, he also felt most at home in a run down crack house. His problem was that he was 2 hours new to the town of Manicomio, and didn't have the strength of numbers nor the crackhouse that he had had in Detroit. But he knew how to take care of that.
"Gentlemen (and ladies)," he addressed his new found followers in his mom's suburbanite home. "Today, we have finally penetrated the police department!"
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
"Quiet! I know you are Loco, but can you at least WAIT until I'm finished?"
The surrounding gangstas quietted down.
"Good. Listen, we were finally able to get to a cop down at the 13th precinct. It took forever! Well, I take that back, it took an hour, but that is a LONG time to chickens, you know. But control of the precinct is at hand. Once we control the cops in that neighborhood, we control the city!"
Silence continued as the gangstas were rapt with attention, waiting for El Jefe to command them.
"You may cheer now," El Jefe prompted.
Cheers once again erupted from the gathered Pollos Locos, for they knew that taking the city meant more money, more booze, and generally an all around good time. As he listened to the cheers, El Jefe smiled inwardly. Yes, he thought, Manicomio was ripe for the taking.
It was the midnight shift. The Sergeant absolutely, positively, despised this shift; for some reason, it seemed all the crazies came out on this shift. He reasoned that it must be something in the water. He had a feeling that this night wouldn't be any different. As he looked down at the memo that was forwarded to him by the assistant chief, he let out an audible sigh and knew that he was correct. He figured he'd better get it over with. Like the assistant chief, he deduced that the memo would mean bloodshed.
"Attention....Can I have your attention PLEASE!" Ironically, unlike the gangstas, the cops were a much more difficult bunch to get under control. It took five long minutes for the shift to settle down.
"The mayor has brought it to the attention of the chief, who brought it to the attention of the assistant...oh forget it," he stated with exasperation. "Look, there's a rogue cop in the precinct on the payroll of this new gang in town called Los Pollos Locos. We're crazy enough in this town without having to worry about yet another group of crazies! So, we're gonna root out this traitor and rid this town of the Locos. We don't know who they are yet. For all we know the rogue cop may be sitting RIGHT....NEXT....TO...YOU! So watch your backs! That's all I got about that. Your week's assignments will be sent to you via private messaging prior to the night's shift. If you FORGOT what you are supposed to DO with your assignment, see the bulletin board. If you still need help...don't ask me, go to the assistant chief or chief. That's all...let's get to work."
The rogue cop sat quietly and smiled to himself, watching his fellow officers prepare for the night's shift. If they only knew what he and the Locos had in store for them....
|Night 1 - Betrayals|
|The chief walked into his outer office fresh from his day job with his head down. As he walked by his normally calm assistant, the chief heard muttering under his breath. Something about computer crashes and the inability to access important information from the previous week's actions. The chief put it out of his mind as he unlocked his door and entered his office. He had a plan he hoped would ensure that none of his new recruits would be killed that night, and his assistant's computer problems would just have to wait.
The assistant saw his boss walk in, lost in thought. "Well, it's a good thing he's here, things can now get done," he thought. He decided that the best course of action was to not to panic any more over his computer, as all that did was stress himself more. He thought to himself that a good hot shower was what he needed. He just hoped that there were towels in the locker room...for some reason, the 42 that he had bought last week had suddenly disappeared. There was no use worrying about that now, as his mind was made up. He rose from his computer and headed to the department gym.
As the assistant entered the locker room, he sensed something was amiss. Rounding the first bank of lockers, he saw what appeared to be a body on the floor and heard the other entrance door slam shut.
"Hey, officer, you OK?" the assistant inquired, fearing the worst.
"Yeah, I just tripped," said the unknown officer as he hurridly rose and left the room.
CrazyPainter gazed closely at her partner for the night. She wasn't sure about the Sergeant's new system implemented this evening, one that was supposed to help lower the risk of danger. She knew that it really wasn't the sergeant's fault; it seemed that all the really "bright" ideas came from the Chief. Meaning that the ideas weren't all that bright to begin with. Meaning she should really be blaming the Chief for this prediciment.
"So. Ever been on a drug raid before?" CP asked her partner as they drove down one of the dark streets of Manicomio.
"Nope. First time." came the reply.
"Alright, then. The way it will work is this. You'll be breaking down the door. You need to get out of the way immediately, so I can crash the place..."
El Jefe was sitting in his new crackhouse. It took him a day, but he had found it with the help of the Rogue Cop. Apparantly, the house was abandoned recently, just waiting for the right criminal element (namely, him) to appropriate it. His phone buzzed annoyingly. He looked down, perplexed at the cryptic text:
CP continued to go over the plan with her partner. "Once I'm in, you follow. You HAVE to cover me at all costs. I'll clear the left, you clear the right; make sure NO is there. If I remember the layout of this house right, there's a kitchen on the left, and a small bathroom on the right. After that it's a long hallway to the back rooms. We need to hit hard and fast. That hallway is a choke point."
"You've been here before?"
"Yeah. Before this house was abandoned it was used as a brothel. It seemed we were raiding this place every other week. Some things just never change."
"No, they don't," CP's partner replied, staring out into the passing darkness.
As El Jefe was pondering the cryptic message, a new one arrived.
This confused him more. As he was pondering the meaning, he heard the squeal of brakes in the front of the house. "Shoot," he thought, realizing what it all meant. He dove into the bathroom just inside the front door. And waited patiently. Unlike some people, he trusted his partner.
CP cringed at the sound of the squealing brakes. She made a mental note to have the mechanics look at them in the morning.
"You ready?" she asked.
"Yup. Let's do this," came the overly excited reply.
CP and her partner quietly approached the front door. Well, as quietly as could be expected considering their need to rush after the squealing brakes. Her partner held the battering ram at the ready.
"POLICE..SEARCH WARRANT!!!" they yelled together.
The door was rammed open like it was a cardboard box. As if they had been doing it together forever, CP led the way into the house. She swept left..the kitchen. "Clear!". She heard her partner yell "Clear!" as well, and immediately started heading down the long corridor. But something wasn't quite right. She bristled, standing suddenly from her crouched ready position as she heard the cocking of a shotgun. She paused, realizing what was going on.
"You don't have to do this," she pleaded uselessly as she felt the barrel of the shotgun against the back of her head.
"Yes, we do," came El Jefe's reply. The world went dark as CP wondered how she could have been taken down so easily.
"Get out of here now, but leave the gun," the Rogue Cop told El Jefe. The Rogue Cop knew that the shotgun was untracable, and ballistics were useless. "You can't be seen here. I'll make it look good for the others. You'll have to find a new crack house, but it's a small price to pay for getting rid of one of the cops."
El Jefe fled the rear of the house, both cursing and celebrating his luck. As he rounded the corner, he heard the faint shouts of "Officer down!"
|Day 1 - Dismissals|
The chief sat back in his office watching the game. It was a defensive struggle, much like what was going on in the station. Oh how he wished he could crack open a cold one, but there unfortunately was rather large matter to take care of first.
"DarthNoob, can I see you for a minute?" he called out just as the Titans scored to tie the game. Needless to say, he was being distracted. Hopefully, halftime would come soon.
"What's up boss?" DN asked as he entered the chief's office. He could see that the chief was distracted. DN assumed it was the game on the television behind him.
"Look, I know you're new here. But it appears that you haven't endeared yourself with your fellow officers."
"I realize that, but don't you think that all I need is a little more seasoning?" DN asked. The chief pondered that as the Steelers started to drive down the field.
The chief thought about it for a minute. "Yes, it's true, all you do need is just a bit more seasoning. But unfortunately, the more important matter is I need a cohesive unit - a well oiled machine working in harmony. That's the only way we'll rid ourselves of Los Pollos Locos!"
"But I told them all who I was. They NEED me! Don't you see that? Can't THEY see that? All I need is a little time to convince them! Isn't there anything I can do?" DN pleaded.
"I'm sorry. But just like the half of this football game, your time here is up." The chief was distracted momentarily as a Titan intercepted the ball and started to run it back. The chief returned once he was tackled. "You need to clear out your locker." The chief thought for another minute and continued, "You know, I've always wanted to say this." He puffed himself up and in his best Donald Trump voice told DN, "You're Fired!"
The other officers gathered around the reception desk in the anteroom of the station. Already reeling from the loss of one of their own, they had a feeling they knew what was going on in the chief's office. Many of them were thinking that it would be a great day; they could avenge the death of their friend.
As DN left the locker room and headed out the front door, the other officers' jaws dropped. For DN left as he came, wearing his Fire Department uniform; he was as he claimed, the Paramedic.
|Night 2 - Surprises|
|The chief returned from his bowling night. He had bowled his butt off, but his team still lost. Sitting in his office, over an hour late, he looked at the duty roster. He frowned. He looked down on his desk and saw a message from his assistant. The message was not good. He realized things were going downhill, and very, very fast.
MrsP was out on patrol in a familiar neighborhood, her own. It was eerily dark, she couldn't quite figure out why. She drove slowly past the former brothel in which CrazyPainter was killed the previous night. She saw the crime scene tape and shuddered inwardly. She thought that was a poor way to go. She promised herself that she wouldn't get caught off guard like that. An experienced officer shouldn't make such a rookie mistake, and MrsP was determined not to let the same fate befall her.
MrsP decided to take a break. It was a quiet night, but something was nagging in the back of her mind. She drove to the local park, and pulled out her lunch (well, it was lunch time for her).
"11-99!!! 11-99" Came a crackling call over the radio.
MrsP stiffened. 11-99 was radio code for "Officer needs help NOW!" She dropped her lunch and started her engine. The only problem was she had no idea WHERE the call was.
"11-99 at the brothel where CP was killed...Shots Fired...Shots Fired!"
MrsP peeled out of the park's parking lot. "MrsP responding to the 11-99!" she called over the radio, "I'm 30 seconds out!!!" She activated her siren and accellerated to over 100 miles an hour down the darkened and deserted streets of the city. Luckily, Manicomio was a sleepy city.
MrsP screeched to a halt at the brothel, and leaped from her car with her gun drawn. Something was off, though. It was still just lingering in the back of her mind. Then she realized what it was: there WERE no other officers in the area. The street was TOO dark. She noticed that all the street lights had been taken out. She reached down for her radio.
As she activated the mic, MrsP heard a car start. She realized that she had a decision to make...She could save herself or warn the others off. She decided on the later, and clicked her mic, "It's fake!!! Call off!!! call off!!" She hoped her call went through as she watched the car approach. MrsP stood proud as her body was riddled with bullets by the passing Los Pollos Locos .
Inside the car, El Jefe turned to the Rogue Cop, and said "It's good to have you on the inside. That couldn't have gone any better."
|Day 2 - Revelations|
|The chief returned to work with a heavy heart. He had had a wonderful day at the theatre and delicious dinner with his girl. The actor who played the Phantom of the Opera had a superb voice that had sent shivers up his spine. It was funny, though, that at dinner, his thoughts had continally drifted back to the problems he was having at the precinct. He was losing his officers left and right, and couldn't figure out how to stop it.
The chief entered his office perplexed. His assistant, with whom he had talked earlier in the day, was not at his usual place. Unfortunately, the chief knew that his assistant was having computer problems. While it would have been nice to have scsw's sage advice, the chief realized that he would have to do things on his own. He rose, deciding to try to rally the troops.
The chief wandered around the precinct. He had already lost two officers and his paramedic, and was determined not to lose any more. As he wandered the hallways, he understood that the precinct was quieter than it should be. No one seemed to be around. He wandered into the firing range. It was as loud in the range as it was quiet in the precinct. He walked down the line, searching for the source of shooting. In the last lane, he found whom he had expected; one person who seemingly lived at the range. It was how the chief himself became a SWAT officer, living at the firing range. Relieved, at the sight, he signalled the range master to call a cease fire.
"Wilson, you preparing for tonight?" the chief asked.
"No, chief. Look, it's a lost cause. I realize that, and you should too. Get out while you can. I, myself, am moving to the United Kingdom. At least they have stricter gun laws there."
"You're leaving? What about the others?"
"Look, you have two, well, now make that one, officer left here. I advise you to get out while you can."
"Speaking of, have you seen our other officer?"
"Nope," the sniper replied, turning back to face downrange. He called out to the rangemaster, "Can I get going, I don't have much time before I leave."
The rangemaster looked over at the chief, who nodded. "Fire at will!" came the rangemaster's command.
The chief left the range and returned to his office. He noticed a note he had not seen on his desk, written in an unfamiliar script. It told him to call the US Marshals Service. He thought to himself that was odd, and picked up the phone. As he did so, he noticed two men in suits enter the office. He thought to himself correctly that they looked like the prototypical Hoover men and set his phone back down. "How can I help the Marshal Service?" he asked his visitors.
"We're here to talk to you about one of your detectives," the marshal replied. He looked down at his notebook. "A detective...EDM."
"What about her?" the chief asked. The chief came to the realization that this was probably going to be the reason that EDM didn't show up for work this day.
"It's about a case she was involved in with us last year. This gang you have here, Los Pollos Locos, is small potatoes compared to these guys. We need her alive, and we thought it prudent that she enter the Witness Protection Program," the marshal replied.
"So what am I to do?" asked the chief.
"That's your problem, not ours," came the cold reply.
The chief watched the two marshals leave. He was feeling depressed. He stood up, making his decision. The mayor and his assistant could have this armpit of a town; let them figure out how to get rid of Los Pollos Locos. He knew, though, that without any officers, it would be a lost cause. He walked out of his office, leaving it unlocked. He wasn't coming back anyway.
El Jefe looked around the house. He had taken the crime scene tape down, for there was no one left to arrest him for doing so. He decided that if the bloodstains of the Precinct Sergeant outside from the drive-by weren't enough to ward people off, he'd leave the bloodstains of the Undercover Cop whom his partner had set up on the inside. That should ensure that any person that came to this house knew that the occupants were not those with which one should trifle.
He sat on the couch in the back room. He thought long and hard about his name. In English, his name translated into, "The Leader." In English, his real name, "Prince," was synonomous with that. Odd that things worked out that way, but sometimes life has crazy coincidences.
Now that he had taken over Precinct 13, he had control of the city. Looking over his followers in the room, he had a sudden realization; Manicomio was a madhouse, but that was not enough for him. With this group, he could easily set his sights higher, and potentially take over more. Maybe the whole state. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, the whole country.
An idea came to him.
"DudleyDude, how hard do you think it would be for you to become an FBI agent?"
End of Game Roster
- DudleyDude - Rogue Cop
- DarthNoob - Paramedic - Lynched D1
- Crazypainter - Undercover Cop - Killed N1 by Baddies
- MrsP - Precinct Sergeant - Killed N2 by Baddies
- Prince_Marth - El Jefe
- Wilson - SWAT Sniper - Killed end of game
- EDM - Detective - Lynched D2
|List of actions|
Message to MrsP in baddie block: