Ok ok I'll tell you my initial reaction.

All three post reveal an intention. For example, MG's post shows that he doesn't care if he's wrong or right, he just wants to know if he really is the vig or not.

My post shows my frustration with him revealing that he was a vig so early in the game with no reason whatsoever... It also shows that I'm also frustrated that this will probably be the center of day 1 discussion and I'm jealous I won't have the spotlight today.

Linkz, and I'm gonna be honest from the start, seems like a tag along to set himself up as a concerned town. I say this because he was the final one of us to post his reaction to the vig claim (I believe so anyway)What better way to give a town read then to act as if he was concerned with the conditions of the vig? And I must admit, I almost bought into it. But I'm wary.

That said I based that on no facts or evidence just my awesome abilities.

Questions or not, you taught me a new technique to scum hunt...

I will call it Control and Compare. take post of different players that revolve around a topic and compare intentions.

You're welcome padawan

Looks like I overestimated you again Linkz. I really was inspired by you for a moment.


I'm truly a King, I take and improve ideas. Kinda like Sony :D

Day is up. Night has begun.

The little figures had been set up amongst other playthings; lincoln logs, dumptrucks, and bits and pieces of glass and metal. Timmy had spent the majority of the day gathering all these treasures into his sandbox in the backyard and only began to tinker with the storyline; Several would surely be bad guys, and one would be the sarge.

"Hey", said the green man with a pair of binoculars. "That man has a gun ominously pointed at everyone. He must be a bad guy".
-"I do have a gun, but I am a good guy", mouthed Timmy.

"We can trust him for now, men. Anyhoo, I'm out of ideas, so maybe we should just shoot someone randomly".

TIIIIIIIMMMMMMYYYYYY, SLOPPY JOE'S ARE READY

Timmy loved Sloppy Joe's you see, and ran off toward the house.
His mother dabbed a cloth on her tongue, and corraling the young scamp, wiped the dirt off his nose and told him to wash up for dinner. No more outside play for today.

She let out the dog, set out a dish of water, and locked the door.

Mister Wrinkles took a poop in the corner of the sandbox, and being the careless animal that he was, semi-buried a strong, young, green army man that was a little off to the side. He would most likely not be played with again.

NIGHT START

AWESOME. Why in gods name would you start day one on New Years Eve going into New Years?

Oops, I was all set to go and then forgot.

Anyhoo:

As day started to break, Timmy hungrily jumped out of bed, excited to complete the story he had been denied to begin the previous day. He fumbled with the lock, greedily contemplating the grand scene ahead of him. The door flung open, banging into the wall and he stumbled down the stairs, rushing to the battle yard. He plopped down into the sandbox still putting an over-all over his shoulder. The group seemed incomplete. It also smelled.
In the corner was a big pile of sand covered doodie with a army man stuck in it.
"Oh well", Timmy concluded, "that one wasn't special anyway"
-"but then who did it", he questioned, hovering a accusatory finger over each.

Day 2 Begin!

OOPS I AM DEAD HURR HURR HURR

HUMMMM... BOOOOBIES...

So nobody died?

I don't understand the flavor?