[Werewolf] [Archive] In Cuba, I Lie. Day 6: The End. Innocents Win! Host: Locke
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gamerwiz09
Grandmaster Knight
lol, nice Locke.
Well, might as well...
Vote: Alex_Augmented
And seems a bit late, but my defense, is no defense...Why should I have to defend myself?
Well, might as well...
Vote: Alex_Augmented
And seems a bit late, but my defense, is no defense...Why should I have to defend myself?
In my, very, very unpopular opinion, day 1 ****ing sucks and the sooner it's over the better.
In my opinion the longer we leave it up to chance and scraps of evidence to hang someone and the more chance we have of hanging someone innocent.
*Thanks god TSN isn't here to go into a rage at this*
In my opinion the longer we leave it up to chance and scraps of evidence to hang someone and the more chance we have of hanging someone innocent.
*Thanks god TSN isn't here to go into a rage at this*
The gun was distributed randomly. I distributed the item now because it's scheduled for today. It also gives you the intended option to make a kill before a lynch. I don't see the harm in waiting for Tarrant though. gamerwiz isn't going to swim to safety.
... Exactly what Xardob said.
... Exactly what Xardob said.
Shouldn't you be staying out of influencing what we do? 
The gun was always planned, and it was randomly distributed. I won't do anything unfair to either side.
Edit: Oh, you meant of the gamerwiz remark. Well, you're not children, it shouldn't influence anyone. I simply don't want the day to end so soon.
Edit: Oh, you meant of the gamerwiz remark. Well, you're not children, it shouldn't influence anyone. I simply don't want the day to end so soon.
Locke said:
Doesn't matter what you want though, you're just the host.
Just? *splutters* JUST?!
(agreed, it won't happen again)
(agreed, it won't happen again)
Trooper5445
Master Knight
This **** is ending.
Can you say Noob Wolf?
Vote:Gamerwiz09
Can you say Noob Wolf?
Vote:Gamerwiz09
Day 1: The Lynch
The decision was reached: gamerwiz was to be lynched. Panic slowly crept up on him as the words were repeated over and over in his head, I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. As if his mind was trying to convince him to act, convince him that is was going to happen. It is a fact, I am going to die. The ominously silent Pjoo was trying to throw a rope over the chandelier in the empty room when it happened. Like trying to break thick glass with a sharp metal object, the words he repeated to himself over and over bounced away, and again and again it struck with every word, until finally, when it seemed the glass just wasn't going to break, gamerwiz shattered violently.
He sobbed, tears running thick and fast, and suddenly everyone was white faced and for the first time had misgivings. Pjoo's attempts to hang a rope from the chandelier grew more fruitless, until Nash stepped forwards to do it instead. He seemed to have steeled himself when gamerwiz broke down, and with him leading them they looked marginally more determined. The mayor seemed to have lost his indifferently appointed leadership at some point in the first meeting with Captain Locke, who appeared presently, dressed in a large yellow raincoat and spinning his musical pipe between his fingers. He looked slightly annoyed, though they didn't know why. They assumed he would be happy, but they were wrong to think that simple killing would please him.
He clicked his fingers, and the rope snaked and tied itself into a noose. "Let's get this done. Chop chop!" He said, clapping his hands impatiently. They rushed into action, and in a few seconds it seemed, gamerwiz was stood on a beer barrel with the noose around his neck, sagging, defeated, and incredulous. "But, I'm good!"
Some looked mournful, and suddenly and for the first time, they hated the Captain. No one, however, could pluck up the courage to voice their thoughts. We can't do this. We mustn't do this. No one spoke, and no one moved. All looked up at gamerwiz, his face soaked with tears and an expression that of the most pained sadness they had ever seen or conceived of. None moved, and Captain Locke became angry.
"You can't change your mind you pathetic bastards! He dies now. Do it!"
They started and stared at the Captain. His voice was that of the teacher at school that terrified everyone, and silenced a class with a glance. They all, wide eyed and clenched jaws, wanted to say something. Tamuli was the one to do so.
"No..." He turned a pale green as he said it, but he somehow manage to go on. "No, we... We won't. We'll vote again if we want to. You only said we had to kill one when it got to night."
"No?" Captain Locke seemed enthralled with delight. "No?" He repeated. "Once you reach a majority vote, there's no going back, Tamuli."
"We..." Tamuli looked around to check everyone wasn't looking away as though to disassociate themselves with him, but they weren't and he carried on. "We won't do it. Not... Not yet."
Captain Locke continued to smile widely. In any other situation the smile might convince you he was a good person, but not now. "Once you reach a majority, the voted dies. By your hand,"He said walking over to gamerwiz and with his eyes fixed on Tamuli, "or mine". With that he reached up and clutched gamerwiz's protruding gut, and then pulled it out in one smooth movement, the rope straining and gamerwiz's body pulled straight as a board with the awesome and precise strength of heavy machinery. Blood flowed and the mass of intestines fell from Locke's hand onto the floor. gamerwiz jerked and kicked in a seizure, tangling his legs in the trail of his intestines to the floor and making himself spin on the rope. His other organs slowly dislodged from their place and dangled out of the bloody hole that showed his spine.
Needless to say what everyone's reaction was. Tamuli's green face was overpowered by the green shooting out of his mouth and nose. Thought none could look on the sight of gamerwiz for long, an oddity the like of which they have never seen drew their gaze and kept it. Captain Locke too looked, though he appeared to have expected it. "Not as inadequate an Oracle after all... " Locke said. "They taught you well in this, but in all else you fell woefully short."
gamerwiz was not yet dead. He glowed and his face showed a less dramatic pain. Slowly the glow escaped him, and faded like smoke. He looked around at them all, clearly his heart no longer beat, and the blood that flowed was steady and without pulse, but he was alive. "I could have helped you so much more. But now... There is little my powers can do." He closed his eyes and went on. "I grant one of you part of my ability. The power of dreams and destiny. Of fortune and identity. I can give only the power to dream, and I grant it to you." He indicated no one, but who he meant knew it was him. He grew still and his head dropped against his chest.
Captain Locke spoke: "Now freeze." And they froze in time. "And we'll wait for the night."
They woke in their cells as the sun was setting through the port hole.
The decision was reached: gamerwiz was to be lynched. Panic slowly crept up on him as the words were repeated over and over in his head, I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. As if his mind was trying to convince him to act, convince him that is was going to happen. It is a fact, I am going to die. The ominously silent Pjoo was trying to throw a rope over the chandelier in the empty room when it happened. Like trying to break thick glass with a sharp metal object, the words he repeated to himself over and over bounced away, and again and again it struck with every word, until finally, when it seemed the glass just wasn't going to break, gamerwiz shattered violently.
He sobbed, tears running thick and fast, and suddenly everyone was white faced and for the first time had misgivings. Pjoo's attempts to hang a rope from the chandelier grew more fruitless, until Nash stepped forwards to do it instead. He seemed to have steeled himself when gamerwiz broke down, and with him leading them they looked marginally more determined. The mayor seemed to have lost his indifferently appointed leadership at some point in the first meeting with Captain Locke, who appeared presently, dressed in a large yellow raincoat and spinning his musical pipe between his fingers. He looked slightly annoyed, though they didn't know why. They assumed he would be happy, but they were wrong to think that simple killing would please him.
He clicked his fingers, and the rope snaked and tied itself into a noose. "Let's get this done. Chop chop!" He said, clapping his hands impatiently. They rushed into action, and in a few seconds it seemed, gamerwiz was stood on a beer barrel with the noose around his neck, sagging, defeated, and incredulous. "But, I'm good!"
Some looked mournful, and suddenly and for the first time, they hated the Captain. No one, however, could pluck up the courage to voice their thoughts. We can't do this. We mustn't do this. No one spoke, and no one moved. All looked up at gamerwiz, his face soaked with tears and an expression that of the most pained sadness they had ever seen or conceived of. None moved, and Captain Locke became angry.
"You can't change your mind you pathetic bastards! He dies now. Do it!"
They started and stared at the Captain. His voice was that of the teacher at school that terrified everyone, and silenced a class with a glance. They all, wide eyed and clenched jaws, wanted to say something. Tamuli was the one to do so.
"No..." He turned a pale green as he said it, but he somehow manage to go on. "No, we... We won't. We'll vote again if we want to. You only said we had to kill one when it got to night."
"No?" Captain Locke seemed enthralled with delight. "No?" He repeated. "Once you reach a majority vote, there's no going back, Tamuli."
"We..." Tamuli looked around to check everyone wasn't looking away as though to disassociate themselves with him, but they weren't and he carried on. "We won't do it. Not... Not yet."
Captain Locke continued to smile widely. In any other situation the smile might convince you he was a good person, but not now. "Once you reach a majority, the voted dies. By your hand,"He said walking over to gamerwiz and with his eyes fixed on Tamuli, "or mine". With that he reached up and clutched gamerwiz's protruding gut, and then pulled it out in one smooth movement, the rope straining and gamerwiz's body pulled straight as a board with the awesome and precise strength of heavy machinery. Blood flowed and the mass of intestines fell from Locke's hand onto the floor. gamerwiz jerked and kicked in a seizure, tangling his legs in the trail of his intestines to the floor and making himself spin on the rope. His other organs slowly dislodged from their place and dangled out of the bloody hole that showed his spine.
Needless to say what everyone's reaction was. Tamuli's green face was overpowered by the green shooting out of his mouth and nose. Thought none could look on the sight of gamerwiz for long, an oddity the like of which they have never seen drew their gaze and kept it. Captain Locke too looked, though he appeared to have expected it. "Not as inadequate an Oracle after all... " Locke said. "They taught you well in this, but in all else you fell woefully short."
gamerwiz was not yet dead. He glowed and his face showed a less dramatic pain. Slowly the glow escaped him, and faded like smoke. He looked around at them all, clearly his heart no longer beat, and the blood that flowed was steady and without pulse, but he was alive. "I could have helped you so much more. But now... There is little my powers can do." He closed his eyes and went on. "I grant one of you part of my ability. The power of dreams and destiny. Of fortune and identity. I can give only the power to dream, and I grant it to you." He indicated no one, but who he meant knew it was him. He grew still and his head dropped against his chest.
Captain Locke spoke: "Now freeze." And they froze in time. "And we'll wait for the night."
They woke in their cells as the sun was setting through the port hole.
Oracle
Night 1
When night began they discovered locks on their doors, and keys in their pockets. All doors were locked already for them, but of course they made sure.
The night was full of sounds of things that could be something, or nothing. The light footsteps of a neighbour, the scraping as someone positioned some of the stolen furniture, that they'd taken from the ship, around their room. It was long into the night before many got to sleep, but perhaps it was better they didn't sleep. Many close calls were had this first night, and most were lucky enough to escape with their lives... Wolves howled that night. They howled to each other from about the ship.
A shimmering ghost of human form. A woman both beautiful and terrible, naked and shining in the dark. The corridor was long and wide, but still the chance of crossing one of the others was great. She looked along each cell, counting, trying to remember what her human self had decided. As she read the number of her chosen cell she knew that this was her target. She pressed her hand against the keyhole, which snapped unlocked, allowing her to float into the pitch black cell. Through her eyes saw the glowing of male life. The body was stretched and contorted, but all the same, it was male, and it was sleeping; all that was needed in her prey. She lay atop him...
An hour later she left, full and rich with the power of the living; her prey, weak and drained.
Bugman was unlucky enough to be out of his cell some time later, but in all else, he was extremely lucky. He was the first to hear the huge, heavy footsteps of something unheard of before. It lumbered in Bugman's general direction, though it seemed that its target was elsewhere. Bugman, terrified by the creature, immediately turned tail and ran, past his cell, and out into the rest of the ship. He ran as hard as he could, but the creature did not see, for in order for it to see someone, they have to see the flames in its eyes... It approached Alex_Augmented's cell, completely oblivious to the deformed looking wolf that bounded past it and down the corridor after Bugman.
This werewolf was the one that had targeted Bugman tonight, not the monster they had left behind. It chased Bugman's scent into the ship, hot on his heels for a matter of minutes before he finally got close enough to pounce. It bounded towards Bugman, just as he turned into a room to his right. The werewolf skidded past the door, snarling, and when he turned back and hurried into the room, he got only a brief glimpse of Bugman's foot as it was drawn into a small air vent in the wall. The werewolf tried to follow the rapidly breathing Bugman, but was too hugely muscled and contorted to fit more than his head into the vent. It tried sniffing out Bugman elsewhere in the ship, but it looked like Bugman wasn't coming out until he was guaranteed safety...
Meanwhile, the huge creature had found - with some difficulty - Alex_Augmented's cell. It tried peering through the small window in the cell, only realising as the candles, that rested in it's eye sockets, were an inch away from iron slider that closed the peep-hole, that it was indeed closed. It wore a square chunk of iron on it's face, if it had a face. There were three holes. One at the bottom was the opening to a dark and glistening tunnel that must be it's mouth. Two above it showed two small candles that rested in the bloody hollows. The roof of the hollows were sizzling and burning with the flame, and a sickening smell of cooking ham and burnt hair and bone wafted away from him with every echoing breath the creature took. The rest of it's body lay in shadow, and by instinct if you were to look upon it you would immediately look into the candle hollows.
It bashed on the wall with a huge meaty fist, and every person in each cell jumped up, suddenly awake, and frightened. Alex_Augmented as you can imagine, felt that death was knocking at his door. He panicked and near went into a fit, he was shaking so badly in terror. Like some of the others he'd grabbed a weapon in the day and put it in his cell. He held up the cricket bat and waved it about, hoping to limber up his muscles for a fight. He didn't consider if his mind would be limbered up enough to make use of his muscles though...
The creature smashed its fists against the door again and again, leaving tatters of meat and black blood smeared on the door. Only when it had worn its fist down to the bone, so that it's punches clacked against the steel door, and the door itself was only bend, and looked as if it would not collapse for all it's beating, did it lumber away, looking confused, and moaning like a whale. It shook its head around and then doubled up, as vomit that looked as if it consisted of intestines fell straight out its throat, and passing out of its mouth onto the floor to splash in a soggy heap. It swayed and stumbled away into the ship. It only returned later, diminished, to return to its cell.
The second ghostly image of the night appeared, passing by the huge creature, knowing it was safe, as its intent was not on him. It was the shape of a man, this one, though not as fierce as the woman. He was weak, and not all that he should be. He had been starving himself for a long time... The demonic ghost floated along the corridor, and arrived at Arcc's cell. It placed it's finger in the lock, which clicked open immediately, allowing the thing to enter the cell. Arcc was sleeping, but the ghostly thing seemed to not care for stealth. Arcc was waking up drowsily just as the thing was upon him. He was allowed one scream, before the demon began to tear at him with an efficiency and purpose, as if it had done this a thousand times before and was becoming bored of it. It wore some kind of tribal mask, a huge clownish grin carved from wood and painted, which was soon covered in blood. The demon thing soon grew impatient at tearing away Arcc's flesh, suddenly feeling the urge to bludgeon Arcc with something heavy. Arcc, however, had been kind enough to take a hunk of steel into his cell for protection. The creature took it up while Arcc writhed on his soaking bed, gasping for air as he gurgled blood out of tears in his throat. The last thing Arcc saw was the chunk of metal rushing towards his face, and heard a damp crunch as it made contact with his face.
The ghostly thing left Arcc's cell, the ever smiling mask giving no hint to it's emotions.
Nearing the end of the night, Xardob left his cell, to be met by what looked like the same contorted wolf-man as before. Another werewolf had waited for him. It leapt at him, but by the smallest of chances, Xardob managed to leap back into his cell and clutch onto the door handle in mid-air, slamming the door with him. The werewolf slammed into the door and rebounded, snarling and yelping in an equally un-wolfish manner. It waited for as long as it could, ramming the door, but as it's body began to shrink back into it's human form, he slunk back to his cell.
When night began they discovered locks on their doors, and keys in their pockets. All doors were locked already for them, but of course they made sure.
The night was full of sounds of things that could be something, or nothing. The light footsteps of a neighbour, the scraping as someone positioned some of the stolen furniture, that they'd taken from the ship, around their room. It was long into the night before many got to sleep, but perhaps it was better they didn't sleep. Many close calls were had this first night, and most were lucky enough to escape with their lives... Wolves howled that night. They howled to each other from about the ship.
A shimmering ghost of human form. A woman both beautiful and terrible, naked and shining in the dark. The corridor was long and wide, but still the chance of crossing one of the others was great. She looked along each cell, counting, trying to remember what her human self had decided. As she read the number of her chosen cell she knew that this was her target. She pressed her hand against the keyhole, which snapped unlocked, allowing her to float into the pitch black cell. Through her eyes saw the glowing of male life. The body was stretched and contorted, but all the same, it was male, and it was sleeping; all that was needed in her prey. She lay atop him...
An hour later she left, full and rich with the power of the living; her prey, weak and drained.
Bugman was unlucky enough to be out of his cell some time later, but in all else, he was extremely lucky. He was the first to hear the huge, heavy footsteps of something unheard of before. It lumbered in Bugman's general direction, though it seemed that its target was elsewhere. Bugman, terrified by the creature, immediately turned tail and ran, past his cell, and out into the rest of the ship. He ran as hard as he could, but the creature did not see, for in order for it to see someone, they have to see the flames in its eyes... It approached Alex_Augmented's cell, completely oblivious to the deformed looking wolf that bounded past it and down the corridor after Bugman.
This werewolf was the one that had targeted Bugman tonight, not the monster they had left behind. It chased Bugman's scent into the ship, hot on his heels for a matter of minutes before he finally got close enough to pounce. It bounded towards Bugman, just as he turned into a room to his right. The werewolf skidded past the door, snarling, and when he turned back and hurried into the room, he got only a brief glimpse of Bugman's foot as it was drawn into a small air vent in the wall. The werewolf tried to follow the rapidly breathing Bugman, but was too hugely muscled and contorted to fit more than his head into the vent. It tried sniffing out Bugman elsewhere in the ship, but it looked like Bugman wasn't coming out until he was guaranteed safety...
Meanwhile, the huge creature had found - with some difficulty - Alex_Augmented's cell. It tried peering through the small window in the cell, only realising as the candles, that rested in it's eye sockets, were an inch away from iron slider that closed the peep-hole, that it was indeed closed. It wore a square chunk of iron on it's face, if it had a face. There were three holes. One at the bottom was the opening to a dark and glistening tunnel that must be it's mouth. Two above it showed two small candles that rested in the bloody hollows. The roof of the hollows were sizzling and burning with the flame, and a sickening smell of cooking ham and burnt hair and bone wafted away from him with every echoing breath the creature took. The rest of it's body lay in shadow, and by instinct if you were to look upon it you would immediately look into the candle hollows.
It bashed on the wall with a huge meaty fist, and every person in each cell jumped up, suddenly awake, and frightened. Alex_Augmented as you can imagine, felt that death was knocking at his door. He panicked and near went into a fit, he was shaking so badly in terror. Like some of the others he'd grabbed a weapon in the day and put it in his cell. He held up the cricket bat and waved it about, hoping to limber up his muscles for a fight. He didn't consider if his mind would be limbered up enough to make use of his muscles though...
The creature smashed its fists against the door again and again, leaving tatters of meat and black blood smeared on the door. Only when it had worn its fist down to the bone, so that it's punches clacked against the steel door, and the door itself was only bend, and looked as if it would not collapse for all it's beating, did it lumber away, looking confused, and moaning like a whale. It shook its head around and then doubled up, as vomit that looked as if it consisted of intestines fell straight out its throat, and passing out of its mouth onto the floor to splash in a soggy heap. It swayed and stumbled away into the ship. It only returned later, diminished, to return to its cell.
The second ghostly image of the night appeared, passing by the huge creature, knowing it was safe, as its intent was not on him. It was the shape of a man, this one, though not as fierce as the woman. He was weak, and not all that he should be. He had been starving himself for a long time... The demonic ghost floated along the corridor, and arrived at Arcc's cell. It placed it's finger in the lock, which clicked open immediately, allowing the thing to enter the cell. Arcc was sleeping, but the ghostly thing seemed to not care for stealth. Arcc was waking up drowsily just as the thing was upon him. He was allowed one scream, before the demon began to tear at him with an efficiency and purpose, as if it had done this a thousand times before and was becoming bored of it. It wore some kind of tribal mask, a huge clownish grin carved from wood and painted, which was soon covered in blood. The demon thing soon grew impatient at tearing away Arcc's flesh, suddenly feeling the urge to bludgeon Arcc with something heavy. Arcc, however, had been kind enough to take a hunk of steel into his cell for protection. The creature took it up while Arcc writhed on his soaking bed, gasping for air as he gurgled blood out of tears in his throat. The last thing Arcc saw was the chunk of metal rushing towards his face, and heard a damp crunch as it made contact with his face.
The ghostly thing left Arcc's cell, the ever smiling mask giving no hint to it's emotions.
Nearing the end of the night, Xardob left his cell, to be met by what looked like the same contorted wolf-man as before. Another werewolf had waited for him. It leapt at him, but by the smallest of chances, Xardob managed to leap back into his cell and clutch onto the door handle in mid-air, slamming the door with him. The werewolf slammed into the door and rebounded, snarling and yelping in an equally un-wolfish manner. It waited for as long as it could, ramming the door, but as it's body began to shrink back into it's human form, he slunk back to his cell.
Arcc was the Pure Soul
The players were awoken by Captain Locke, shouting to the entire ship: "WHO STOLE MY CUSHIONS!"
They all sat bolt upright in their beds, but the Mayor was the only one who looked both startled and frightened, an arrangement of luxurious cushions strewn across his bed. He was used to good living, as Mayor, and had crept into the Captains quarters in the previous day, with the soul purpose of getting some comfy bedding, walking right past the rifle that was put into play yesterday.
The rifle, which Tarrant had propped beside his bed, however, was now gone. He leapt up, looking around to see if it had fallen across the floor, but it was gone. He rushed out of his cell, shouting himself, echoing Captain Locke: "SOMEONE'S STOLEN MY RIFLE! SOMEONE'S BEEN IN MY-" ... He stopped in his tracks, and fell silent, before running out of the corridor to vomit. He had spotted the pool of lumpy, bloody vomit. Others rushed off to vomit too as this sight met their eyes, and were only spurred on to empty their stomachs as they passed Alex_Augmented's cell, seeing the bloody tatters of skin, and Arcc's cell, which was worst of all, which showed only a mash of open ribcage, a splintered snake of a spine, and what used to be Arcc's face, though it now looked like a mixture of jelly, raw meat, and teeth.
Bugman arrived later, limping and looking thoroughly cramped from a night in an air vent.
When they had all dealt with these sights, they met in the bar, to drink, and to vote once more; though they all felt they would consider the night much more carefully this time around. Captain Locke appeared, dressed in black pyjamas and with a snail riding on his shoulder, to tell them all the following.
"Well, it was an eventful night, though less died than I had expected. I hope you will take this day more seriously, and at least wait until the sun is sinking before you decide on a vote, no? My only regret is that so few died... Such a shame. I'll leave you to it then. May the second day commence." He began to walk away, but stopped and added, "And may I ask you to leave my bedding alone from now on. I'll allow you this one instance, but should it happen again, I'll flay the culprit and wear him as a cape from then on. Toodle pip!"
With that he walked through a wall, disappearing, taking a smoking pipe from his top pocket as he did so.
Begin: Day 2
They all sat bolt upright in their beds, but the Mayor was the only one who looked both startled and frightened, an arrangement of luxurious cushions strewn across his bed. He was used to good living, as Mayor, and had crept into the Captains quarters in the previous day, with the soul purpose of getting some comfy bedding, walking right past the rifle that was put into play yesterday.
The rifle, which Tarrant had propped beside his bed, however, was now gone. He leapt up, looking around to see if it had fallen across the floor, but it was gone. He rushed out of his cell, shouting himself, echoing Captain Locke: "SOMEONE'S STOLEN MY RIFLE! SOMEONE'S BEEN IN MY-" ... He stopped in his tracks, and fell silent, before running out of the corridor to vomit. He had spotted the pool of lumpy, bloody vomit. Others rushed off to vomit too as this sight met their eyes, and were only spurred on to empty their stomachs as they passed Alex_Augmented's cell, seeing the bloody tatters of skin, and Arcc's cell, which was worst of all, which showed only a mash of open ribcage, a splintered snake of a spine, and what used to be Arcc's face, though it now looked like a mixture of jelly, raw meat, and teeth.
Bugman arrived later, limping and looking thoroughly cramped from a night in an air vent.
When they had all dealt with these sights, they met in the bar, to drink, and to vote once more; though they all felt they would consider the night much more carefully this time around. Captain Locke appeared, dressed in black pyjamas and with a snail riding on his shoulder, to tell them all the following.
"Well, it was an eventful night, though less died than I had expected. I hope you will take this day more seriously, and at least wait until the sun is sinking before you decide on a vote, no? My only regret is that so few died... Such a shame. I'll leave you to it then. May the second day commence." He began to walk away, but stopped and added, "And may I ask you to leave my bedding alone from now on. I'll allow you this one instance, but should it happen again, I'll flay the culprit and wear him as a cape from then on. Toodle pip!"
With that he walked through a wall, disappearing, taking a smoking pipe from his top pocket as he did so.
Begin: Day 2
