Dear Reader,
Tonight was a rather strange night. It was almost as if the mafia had suddenly lost all their power. Few people met their deaths last night, and as a result I daresay we all feel somewhat better for it. My neighbor, unfortunately, was not one of the many lucky ones. Despite that, I am left with the feeling that we may yet pull through.
Last night – I reckon it was around eleven o'clock – a mafia came for my neighbor again. This time, unfortunately, he was home. My neighbor was quite resourceful to the end, though, and the mafia had but reached for the handle of the back door when my neighbor was alerted to the mafia presence by two loud beeps from his security system. He quickly spun around to his computer to active the automatic defenses, consisting of five remote machine gun turrets. Luck had run out for my neighbor. As he pressed the “Activate” button, his computer crashed and the defenses remained inoperable. In the meantime, the mafia sneaked down the hall, still unaware that his presence had been detected. My neighbor looked through his peephole, and he gave a start as he recognized the mafia outside. He drew a Sharpie and began hastily scribbling on the underside of his desk. Fearful that his message should be read by the wrong people, he quickly thought of a cipher to keep his message out of Dapperdan's hands. Just as my neighbor finished the message, the mafia burst through the door. Foolishly, the mafia did not wonder what his victim was doing; instead he elected to fire three shots cleanly through his target's head. He then exited the building, feeling victorious.
Later in the night, Dapperdan arrived outside of the jailhouse to exact his revenge on the meddling sheriff. He drew his katana with a sense of vicious intent, gesturing at the doors of the jailhouse, which burst open. He strode confidently into the building, but as soon as he crossed the threshold, there was a flash and he was thrown backwards. He uttered a few choice oaths before swinging his katana at the invisible barrier. But it would not yield.
“Foolish mafia,” intoned a voice, “you deal with a power you know not. I warned you before you killed me I would become more powerful than you could know...” But exactly who was channeling Mini Moose 2707's spirit remains a mystery to me. In any event, Dapperdan gave up in disgust and returned to his home to plot in silence.
It might have been that this was all the blood that would be shed last night, but it wasn't quite. Zany_001 was catching a late bite to eat at Taco Bell. As he returned to his car from the restaurant, one pissed off
Norm leaped out of the darkness and messily tore out his jugular. Appeased, Norm ran away into the night to vanish again to the underworld, leaving the corpse of
zany_001 to rot in the parking lot.
As dawn broke, we ventured into my neighbor's house. The body of
Vrael was carried out, and he was given a stately funeral. Under the desk, I discovered a message that read as follows (how he wrote so much in so little time I have no idea – I can only presume he was adding to a message already written):
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Ny wxlv dfqfwgfoiep,
M rrpw prcokxo pyea sru iakw qsb pimv sfnxytx, kex zemf am ezrq cukx ujsvhgibvx s jvx ulxqyv kbarxt. Fbkdx kex xsifmhle, cyl mzslmd dgza dyul xyf iwxyxsks gj kie ehjev didi nio phcoc wij xyf saxcmpw ck rfoe hmsib kbsr vadtr. T jorl, zsnfvxk, elkk nzmj nizae fo jieiniam hmzsfok kzweg msi omyfxj uhtm sefv udvvbdr vzqo ki hejt.
Al B qemv gq hvbta gza, dyy grv ptaxc xrzhy M ybvx epebeyv mj uhx boixkclc fg mr dtpvvl. A hrse ghe abznw mk pum wtvotndc, svt B ptpv juq xf getk l xoilgv wsof msi Orml. Lv dofxd wscyfxcz agw dpstyk eee dbvpw. Qfiv pldk.
Fr hsbb ck rfx dhgp.
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We now convene to decide upon the target of our lynching wrath. Hopefully we choose as well as yesterday...
Yours truly,
X
***DAY 4 START***Three days to unravel clues and vote to lynch. Good luck.
None.