Type: Posts; User: Garden Gnome
Things were going bump in the night at the park, and park management was worried. People were suddenly departing in the middle of the night. Terrified screams had been heard, even bloodcurdling screams. Park management decided to call for an expert. But they didn't know what kind of expert to call, so they called a Jack of All Trades, SuperMonkeyFace. He wondered why he was hired for this task. He really did not like things that go bump in the night.
Nevertheless, he headed down the trail, shining his flashlight on random things because he didn't know what he was looking for. Human, animal, or mineral? Which one? Unfortunately, the flashlight's battery died, leaving SuperMonkeyFace in the dark, wondering which could be better, animal, vegetable, or mineral.
SuperMonkeyFace definitely preferred dealing with humans.
And he was going to like it even more after hearing a horrifying scream and a fast fliuttering of wings.
It must be a monster sized bird. SuperMonkeyFace ran down the trail and hopped into his car, driving away at top speed.
The red tailed hawk sat on her nest, the one that she protected from that human lurching down the trail.
SuperMonkeyFace, who was Jack of All Trades, has been removed from the game.
Moth had his bird book in a backpack and his binoculars and his camera with the super duper long lens around his neck. He had heard that someone had spotted a Kirtland's warbler, but that the bird had flown away before its picture could be taken.
"Picture or it never happened," Moth said gleefully. Once he had the photograph of the endangered bird species for his album, he would be happy... until he heard of another bird that needed to be photographed. Birds were Moth's entire life. His day wasn't complete until he saw an interesting bird or had a long conversation with his birder friends about birds of all sizes. At home, he spent much of his day filling his myriad bird feeders with different seeds, depending on the bird that he wanted to entice to come close to his house so that... snap! another photograph!
Moth started down the hiking trail, happily but silently. He didn't want to chase away any of the birds that were chirping happily. He didn't even want to chase away the seagull.
And all of a sudden, there it was. A Kirtland's warbler, hanging onto a branch of a swamp white oak. It was at an odd angle, and Moth tried very carefully to photograph the bird. Just as soon as the camera went click, Moth missed a step and went into the water, knee deep. Fortunately for his camera, which Moth claimed cost as much as his house, he did not fall into the water. He stepped out of the water, just in time to see that his ankles were covered by leeches.
Moth, who was happy with the photograph that he took of the bird, left the park in a terrific hurry.
Moth, who was vanilla town, has been removed from the game.
no ogi would be a great thing.
We could be catching scum here.
wild and fast
Why would wortortle choose an easy mislynch bait to be one of only two goons?
That would be leading his team to doooooooooom.
Move your votes!!!
Hey, why are you all mislynching me????????????
One of you is scummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
My ghost will haunt you forever!
Let's catch wartortle's spawn.
Whoever takes the longest to post is chatting with the king.
Maybe first, maybe not.
How about an Olympics Paint Game?
The entire park had been buzzing with chatter about a murder hornet that some said chased away new campers. Most people had never seen the murder hornet, so they weren't too concerned. They figured that it was probably some sort of tall tale to scare the kids when the bonfire was at its hottest and the marshmallows were blazing with heat.
In the nearby town of Metamorphosis, the murder hornet in the park saga had made the local newspaper. That wasn't difficult because, with one small grocery store, one tiny bank branch, one outdoor farmer's market, and a single post office staffed by a curmudegeonly 98-year-old who had bore the grand title of postmaster of Metamorphosis for the poast 70 years. The newspaper was run by an equally curmudgeonly editor from his house. In fact, curmudgeonly was a family tradition, as the editor was the son of the postmaster. The editor's wife rolled her eyes constantly at her husband and her father in law. She let them do their thing and she did hers, running a very tiny bed and breakfast for visitors of the park who preferred home cooked meals to the stuff that you can make over a campfire. She really didn't have very many guests. This time, though, she had one, an entomologist from a nearby university. Thie entomologist had heard about all of the invasive ticks and the stories of the murder hornet, and she was completely fascinated. She decided to go and visit the park to see if she might be able to capture the murder hornet. She was gleeful because no one had ever caught a murder hornet. She was preparing a show at the university about the world's largest insects and she had decided that a murder hornet would be la piece de resistence.
She drove past the gates of the park and paid her entrance fee. Then she parked the car, just in time to see a bunch of people gathered. They were staring at something. She came closer, and one of them let her know that there was a murder hornet on the loose. in the park. The entomologist set a trap with a variety of sugars. jellies, and an intoxicant. It attracted a murder hornet, which then got stuck. She left the trap there all night. In the morning, she returned to the trap and saw that she had captired the murder hornet, and that it was ready to be mounted. She gleefully grabbed the deceased murder hornet and built her exhibit. She left the park unnoticed.
Activities at the park continued as usual. People went boating, fishing, and hiking. The park manager wrote in a report that nothing of significance happened during the night.
No one either died or was removed from the game.
Chefjones was tending the fire. He had a few hamburgers and hotdogs cooking in a handheld contraption that he held over the fire, but the flame was starting to diminish. The food was simple fare, but that's what his family requested for their overnight in the park. The radio was playing jazz. He looked up and saw the constellations. Out in the forest, there wasn't much light pollution, so it was much easier to see the spendor of the sky.
Chefjones called out for the kids to go and collect twigs for the fire. They scampered off into the woods, chasing one another and squealing with delight. All of a sudden, Chefjones thought that he heard a dull thud. The kids liked to horse around and one of them probably fell over. If he hadn't been tending a fire, he would have gone to check out the noise. Eventually the kids came back, carrying a pile of twigs.
At last, the food was cooked. Beverages were served, and everyone cheered for the cook.
After dinner, one of the kids said that he felt all sorts of things crawling on his back and on his neck. Chefjones took his flashlight and discovered hordes of ticks crawling on the kid's back and neck.
He and his family quickly packed up their possessions and left the park, driving at top speed.
Chefjones, who was vanilla town, has been removed from the game.
Thank you for the game, Lend. It was very entertaining. It would be fun to have had more of a 3P presence. Maybe two 3P in the game would add to the fun of it. Or a cult, but I guess that goes into a bastard game. I don't know.
It was time for the bonfire at Zwerdjib's campsite. The fire was big. Bigger than ever. That was because everyone had to practice social distancing and sit far apart from each other. They wouldn't have been able to enjoy the heat of a smaller fire. The group brought instruments so that they could serenade the beautiful starry sky and the full moon. It was great to be on vacation and to spend time together, instead of the usual busy-ness of every day life, even every day life in quarantine, which had suddenly become all about one Zoom meeting after the next.
There were all sorts of musical instruments; a banjo, a fiddle, a guitar, a ukelele, drums, maracas, and even a balalaika. The group sat around the campfire and made music. For hours, they played songs and they sang. When someone from a neighboring campsite yelled at them to "stop the caterwauling," they just burst into fits of laughter.
They laughed and laughed and never saw the unusually large insect that had gotten away from its owner. The Murder Hornet circled above and suddenly swooped down upon Zerdjib. To everyone's shock and horror, the Murder Hornet stung Zwedjib repeatedly. As the banjo player bundeled Zerdjib into a vehicle, the Murder Hornet flew away. No one knew where it went. Zwedjib was taken, screaming at top volume, to the closest hospital.
Zwerdjib, a vanilla townie, has been removed from the game.
Wisdom chortled gleefully. It was going to be a very good day for a wicked deed. At Wisdom's feet was a box, and Wisdom's pride and joy was in the box. A new pet. A very treasured pet because this one could ruin someone's vacation. Someone annoying and loud, singing out of tune at a campfire. Someone who woke up cheerfully and yelled that cheerfulness at six o'clock in the freaking morning. What kind of fool does that? Wisdom and friends had been plotting ever since Seriously Annoying and Overly Cheerful arrived at the neighboring campsite. And now, Wisdom's plans were coming together. Wisdom carried the box outside, and opened it... too fast.
The excessively large insect flew out in a big rush. The terrifyingly big hornet measured two full inches from top to bottom. Wisdom started making up a song about the Murder Hornet, sung to the tune of "You are my Sunshine."
"You are my hornet,
my murder hornet,
you make me happy
when times are gray.
You'll never know, dear,
how much I love..."
All of a sudden, the startled murder hornet dove on Wisdom. As Wisdom screamed in a shrill and terrified voice, the murder hornet began stinging. Repeatedly.
The murder hornet flew away.
The relentlessly cheerful neighbor called for an ambulance.
Wisdom, who was a mafia goon, has been removed from the game.
Town's cause was hopeless anyway.