| Player Info | |
|---|---|
| Alias: | 'Manchot' |
| Status: | Dead |
| Points: | 3 |
| Last point on: | 2005 April 11—03:00 PM |
'Carmen Sandiego' killed 'Manchot'.
Yeah, I got killed. I’m not going to say much, because I’m dead.
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'Manchot' killed 'RingWraith'.
I soon discovered that my next target was in the Hypergraphics CHP course. Luckily, I knew that part of Altgeld Hall particularly well, and I felt that I had an advantage.
However, I also learned that he was as paranoid as I am, and carried a water gun in his hand to that class. Thus, I was forced to stage an elaborate plot to make sure that I killed him, before he could kill me. I employed a friend of mine to be a decoy assassin, and he held a spoon in his hand as the dead man walking ambled into the classroom. My friend asked him about his identity, and as I had hoped, the target fell for the bait. He reached for his weapon, so that he may defensively kill his “assassin” before being killed himself.
Unfortunately for him, he never had a chance, as I took the opportunity to spring forth from the nearby door and shoot him twice in the chest. As he lay dying, he attempted to utter, “All beware the terrible servants of Sauron.” But it was too late. He was already dead.
Unfortunately, my assassin was in the same CHP course as I am, making me practically a sitting duck… erm, sitting terrible servant of Sauron. As I came to class, I saw an unfamiliar figure standing outside the door, wielding a spoon. I had my watergun out and ready, but I was not fast enough. The figure wielding the spoon was a decoy, and he diverted my attention just enough for the real assassin to fire his watergun. Ringwraiths may be invisible, but the black cloaks and ring- sense leave much to be desired in terms of mobility and reaction.
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'Manchot' killed 'Yossarian'.
I received the order to kill my new target last night, just as my last one exhaled his last breath. A quick web search revealed that my target was a Campus Visitor Center tour guide. Today, I called the Visitor Center at around 12:30 pm, and asked when my target would be there. When I found that he would be giving tours at 1:00, I felt compelled to do the job as quickly as possible. I entered the Levis building at 1:30 and set out to find him. Fortunately, I recognized him as a participant in the “Student Panel” on the second floor. I waited for it to finish, pretending to be interested in attending the university. Finally, I snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and before he even knew what was going on, he had been stabbed in the chest with a spoon.
So this is what it feels like to be dead. Huh. I always kinda figured the place I’d end up would be warm, but I didn’t expect it to be this… mundane.
I knew that someone was coming for me. I had it on good authority, from someone I trust. Or should I say, trusted, before he got snuffed out too. I paid no heed. He knows my schedule? So what? Ain’t like I was goin to class today anyway. I guess I didn’t think about him knowing when I work. I was so sure I was safe, I didn’t even bring my spoon. I’m gettin’ old; I’m gettin’ soft.
I’ve always thought the Levis Center would be a good place to die. Poorly lit, dark bricks, sparse furnishings, and no sunlight reaches through the windows. The place breathes gloom, despair, and darkness; so naturally, this is where we bring prospective students to show off our lovely university. And that’s where he found me. Gotta hand it to him &emdash; he had the upper hand in this place. After all, my picture is on the freakin’ wall, and he could blend in with the hundreds of other strangers that pass through our doors every day.
I’m an approachable guy (or I was, before I got offed). It’s my job. So when a young guy comes up to me lookin’ like he’s got a question, I don’t think twice about it. Even when the guy has an odd look in his eye like he knows me. The recognition doesn’t come until there’s plastic spoon in my gut. I didn’t feel a thing on the first stab: only a little tickle and a feeling of confusion. Plastic spoons are weak. It took a second stab for the confusion to evolve into clarity. Clarity of my own death, and worse yet, my own defeat. After that came then numbness and finally, darkness. After that, of course, there is no feeling at all.
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'Manchot' killed 'Defenestrator'.
Having come to the Honors House at 6:30 pm, I was surprised to find that my target was working at the house that night.
Luckily, I had my trusty water gun in my backpack, and a spoon in my pocket. I sat down in the same room and proceeded to do homework there. I then participated in the Trivial Pursuit tournament round that night. When it was completed, under the guise of paranoia, I told my target that I was waiting for everyone to leave, to make sure that I wouldn’t get killed. He told me that he’d close up at 10:30 (about an hour later), so I waited for him to go upstairs, and ran from the building.
Since I had scoped out his path home on Monday, following the HSC meeting, I found a place behind some bushes that he could have never seen. At around 10:45, I was ready to leave my post in desperation, until I saw him coming. I hid, and jumped up when he walked past. He attempted shooting me back, but it was too late: he had already been neutralized.
In a freaky stalkerish incident, I was most unfortunately killed tonight. Having watched Manchot flee the HoHo in what appeared to be a bloody terror, I thought that nobody else was around when I closed the house. I used extra caution when leaving the house after locking up, and when I had crossed Matthews without incident I thought I was safe. Yet when I passed a row of bushes next to Lincoln the murderer sprang up.
Reacting immediately, I raised my gun in defense. Much to my chagrin the assassin had already hit his mark, and I felt the water on my coat. Wait a second, that’s not water, it’s BLOOD! Manchot’s bullet pierced me straight through the heart! I wanted to run but how could I move? I wanted to cry out but who would have heard me??? My vision grew blurry as I strained to see my attacker. Weak, I collapsed to the ground, and coldness overtook me as a sinister laughter filled my ears- – couldn’t move…breathing short…engulfing blackness…no sounds….....
I was sitting and talking with these two in HoHo from 6:50 to 7:20. I didn’t know that Manchot was targeting Defenestrator even though I have access to the list of missions. Manchot acted very natural the whole time. The CHP Assassins Team gives you props, Manchot. And Defenestrator, we’ll miss you and your fake Russian accent.
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Today I managed the awesome feat of bringing down the fearsome Manchot. To do so required a group of loyal helpers and, unfortunately, quite a bit of trickery. He saw through my first plan (quite similar to his last one, in fact) of simply having someone else waylay him on the way out of class. However, for this kill we were prepared to be completely unscrupulous, and my friend gained us some time and confusion by pretending to be part of the game and running away. When Manchot decided to chase after him I managed to shoot him down from above, atop a staircase. Only in such a cowardly, conniving way could I have brought down such a killer, and I apologize here for it- fortunately or unfortunately, there are no rules in love, war, and assassination.