The point is more than I play WAY more conservatively and cautiously when I am scum, because as scum I care what people think about me, and as town I don't. PB is making the mistake of confusing what PB himself would do or not do as town, with what I would do as town.
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WW23: The Heart of Gold
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With no new bodies turning up at night, Arthur hoped today would have potential for being a good day. Maybe he'd take another shot at getting the Nutrimatic drink dispensers to produce a decent cup of tea. However, as he passed through a corridor opening, a terrible-looking Vogon with the sex appeal of a road accident lumbered towards him.
All the doors on the Heart of Gold are equipped with Sirius Corporation Genuine Personality programs, giving them a cheerful and sunny disposition. It is their pleasure to open for you, and their satisfaction to close again with the knowledge of a job well done. Unfortunately, this meant that when Arthur desperately scrambled for a way to escape the Vogon, the door behind him was too occupied closing with a self-satisfied sigh to notice. "Hummmmmmmyummmmmmmah!" said the door as it closed in Arthur's face. "Good morning", the Vogon said to Arthur and ambled peacefully up to him. "Did you enjoy my poetry?" Arthur had an odd feeling of being like a man in the act of adultery who is surprised when the woman's husband wanders into the room, changes his trousers, passes a few idle remarks about the weather and leaves again. "Er, good morning to you too, sir", Arthur stuttered and hurried down the corridor. Just as Arthur thought he was safe, the doors in front of him slammed shut. "Wait a minute!", the alien exclaimed, "You DID enjoy my poetry last night, didn't you?" "This must be Thursday," said Arthur thought to himself, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays." Mustering the courage to face his accuser, whilst simultaneously wondering what exactly he was being accused of, Arthur turned around slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about. As far as I know, anyone exposed to Vogon poetry would instantly repress the memory, to preserve their sanity. What are you doing on this ship, anyway?", Arthur replied, as defiantly as he could manage. "I'm asking the questions here", the Vogon snorted. "The fact of the matter is that you were busy enjoying my poetry last night, which means you can't have been sneaking around murdering your crewmates." "Right, so that's good, isn't it?", Arthur replied. "Not at all! The absence of any deaths is in fact irrefutable proof that your poetry-induced bedazzlement was the only thing stopping you from killing someone!" Arthur was trying to decide if the world had gone mad. The situation was so absurd that his conscious mind didn't know how to react. Meanwhile his unconscious was desperately trying to get in control and panic. "I see you have nothing to say in your defense!", the Vogon continued triumphantly. "And nobody else is objecting either, so you must be Trillian's accomplice!" "But there's nobody else here", Arthur objected. The Vogon didn't listen though. He unceremoniously shoved Arthur into the nearest airlock and pressed the depressurization button. "The gods must truly hate me," Arthur thought to himself. He hoped and prayed that there wasn't an afterlife with angry gods out to get him. Then he realized there was a contradiction involved here and merely hoped that there wasn't an afterlife with angry gods out to get him. "You know," said Arthur, as the air was slowly pumped out of the airlock, "it's at times like this, when I'm trapped in an airlock by an irrational Vogon, and about to die of asphyxiation in deep space that I really wish I'd listened to what my mother told me when I was young." "Why, what did she tell you?", the Vogon asked. "I don't know, I didn't listen." Uberfish was lynched. He was Arthur Dent, Last Survivor of the Human Race (almost). He had the following ability: Order tea. Uberfish wins with the good guys. Final vote tally Uberfish (4) - Gaspar, Lewwyn, PocketBeetle, Zakalwe Gaspar (1) - Uberfish PocketBeetle (1) - Mattimeo Vote history: It is now night. Night 3 ends at 2100 GMT, Saturday 4th May. Night actions must be submitted by PM to me by then.
I have to run.
 Hubris thy name is Pb Well played to the wolf, I'm glad this is still going. I hope there's a lot of  going on in the lurker thread!I'm off to gird my loins for a serious defense tomorrow. 
I was starting to feel like Uberfish was innocent yesterday, but honestly I couldn't take the chance of switching to Gaspar until after Uberfish was dead. If I go back to Day 2, I voted for Uber >Gaspar>Bigger. I couldn't decide between Uber and Gaspar so I voted for Bigger. Now that Ubers dead, Gaspar's back on top. Gaspar probably didn't kill anyone Night 2 because he wanted to go into the day with more people and less information for the town via night kills. Of course tonight someone will die and its likely me.
“The wind went mute and the trees in the forest stood still. It was time for the last tale.”
Wait, I was defending someone whose alignment I didn't actually *know*, and I turned out to actually be correct ? I... I don't think that's actually happened before...
Grats on a worse lynch than Ryan, though, everybody 
-- Don’t forget.
Always, somewhere, someone is fighting for you. -- As long as you remember her, you are not alone.
I am also pleasantly surprised but not completely thunderstruck that Uberfish turned out to be a false trail.
It still feels like it has to be Gaspar, then. Lewwyn and Mattimeo both look pretty good based on their day 2 voting, and Pocketbeetle's play just seems needlessly fancy if he's the last scum. Though I have to say, his reaction post tonight actually looks a little fake. Gaspar's day 2, on the other hand, is very consistent with him being scum. He tried to get Uberfish lynched, which must have seemed like a promising avenue, and only switched to Bigger when it became clear that either Bigger or Gaspar would hang. See also my detailed timeline in post #196. Tonewise, I think he is also the scummiest player, and his posts generally have little substance. I also think Uberfish made some good points against Gaspar, even if I didn't let them sway me yesterday: (May 3rd, 2013, 02:55)uberfish Wrote: Whereas if gaspar is scum then he:
If you know what I mean.
A little known fact about Vogon poetry, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy explains, is that its effect is deadly on Vogons. It's just that Vogons never listen to their own voice - after all, if Vogons were to listen to themselves speak, their absurd bureaucracy would break down immediately.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy also has a few things to say on the subject of towels. A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value — you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindbogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you — daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough. More relevantly, a towel can be wrapped around your ears to block the deadly sound of Vogon poetry. At night, when Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz sat down in his room to work on his poetry collection, his stereo system suddenly switched on. From the speakers, a voice-distorted version of Jeltz's own poetry started flowing, inasmuch as Vogon poetry can flow. I HATE THY LOOKS AND MANNERS I hate thy looks, Thy big, bogus head. Thy white shrivelled, withered hair, That stinks like glabeshglum. Thy bloody, bagshot eyes; Thy long, hook shaped nose; Thy pointed goblin ears; Thy mouth which drinketh blood; Red like the blood of the unicorn; Thy teeth with distraught tentacles; Long and sharp; Thy horrible jaws with high cheeked bones; Like those of beasts sitting on thrones; Thy muddy, fraudulent face; Adorned with pimples and rashes. I hate thy neck like that Necadopolis, Long with horrible hairy spines, Thy muggy, bulgy throat, With a terrifying, burly, droning voice. Thy chest, big and puffy, Hairy, and fat, and fluffy. Oh! How thy armpits stink! Tis' sweaty and smelly, The cradle of boils, Emitting uncountable gallons of pus. Thy piggy and ever-consuming belly, Fat and full of jelly. And tapeworms own thy belly. Thy thick thighs Filled with meat, and beefy. Thy skinny legs like hooked shaped pegs, And lots of bloody dregs. I hate thy skin is scaly, white and pale Slippery with slime And is beautified by pores. It's rotten, stinks and is frail, Flies lay their eggs on; Worms and maggots feast upon. Thy skin is adorned with ringworm, Measles, roundworm and rashes. Thy skin fades and falls, Eaten contentedly by leprosy. Yes, I hate it all, Thou are as skinny as a broomstick (for I count all thy bones in a second) and yet as fat as an elephant (for I see naught but flabby flesh), As dirty as a pig Thou stinks like the rotten flesh of a skunk. I hate thy looks. I hate thy manners, Thou art lazier than a sloth And as stupid as a donkey. As stubborn as a goat, As mad as a bull As haughty as a peacock (thy haughtiness is vain) As wicked as a piranha which kills for vain pleasure. Yes indeed, I hate thy looks and manners. Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz had not brought his towel. PocketBeetle, playing Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz, Vogon Captain, was killed. He had the following ability: Recite poetry. PocketBeetle wins with the good guys. It is now day 4. Day 4 ends at 2100 GMT, Monday 6th May.
I have to run.
GG, Pocketbeetle. Great roleplay.
 I am more than happy to lynch Gaspar. Should we claim our roles? As noted, there's a theoretical possibility he is innocent, in which case continued secrecy might be better, since we might be able to prevent the night kill. And if nobody has any results to implicate or clear anyone, I'm not sure it's actually relevant.
If you know what I mean.
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