(May 1st, 2013, 09:47)zakalwe Wrote: Your pessimism shines like a beacon of light in the darkness, Marvin!
(April 30th, 2013, 16:11)novice Wrote: Bigger was lynched. He was Trillian Astra, Brilliant Astrophysicist.
Trillian had the following abilities: Hack and Slash.
Bigger wins with the bad guys.
Can you clarify this, Novice? Did he have one ability called "hack and slash", or two abilities called "hack" and "slash"?
Zak asked for clarification here. I do not think scum would even bat an eye.
Matt has been in my innocent camp from day 1.
Gaspar has been fluctuating between scum and village in my mind.
At this point, after retreading the thread, I have no other vote than Gaspar. Even if he's scum we'll probably still lose...
“The wind went mute and the trees in the forest stood still. It was time for the last tale.”
(May 6th, 2013, 05:21)Lewwyn Wrote: Even if he's scum we'll probably still lose...
That's the spirit!
I don't see why it would be a scum tell that I have a clear lynch preference, Gaspar. If I were scum, I would be better served to keep an "open mind" about who to lynch today, so I could follow the wind.
You don't have a clear lynch preference, you have one lynch option. If you were town, you'd want to be right. As scum, you want to win. And the only candidate that has any chance of getting 3 votes today is me.
The die is cast anyway. If its not you its Lewwyn. I suppose it will be fun in its own way to finally be mislynched, I've never experienced it before.
I've got some dirt on my shoulder, can you brush it off for me?
"Slartibartfast!", Ford Prefect exclaimed.
"Bless you", chirped Colin.
"No, Slartibartfast, the planetary coastline designer! What has he done for us lately? He must be the one who killed the Vogon."
"Good for him", commented Marvin. "We're all going to die anyway."
"It's not the same anymore, now that they're rebuilding Earth", Slartibartfast moped. "I'm assigned to Africa now. Would you believe nobody wants glaciers and fjords in Africa?"
"What, they're rebuilding Earth?", Colin inquired with incredulous delight. "Why didn't you tell Arthur? I'm sure he would have loved to know."
"Why would I? Is it my job to keep you other guys happy? Can't you look after yourselves?", Slartibartfast retorted.
"Well, that's the rub, isn't it", Ford persisted. "You've really done nothing to help us all get through this crisis."
"Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what's actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, 'Hang the sense of it,' and keep yourself busy. I'd much rather be happy than right any day.", Slartibartfast waxed on.
"Happiness is bliss", Colin nodded ecstatically.
"That is very much the wrong attitude to have, Slartibartfast", Marvin droned. "My computations say you must be our final bad guy."
Nobody could muster the enthusiasm to disagree, especially since the price of disagreeing seemed to be taking Slartibartfast's place. As such, Slartibartfast was chucked out the airlock.
Gaspar, playing Slartibartfast, Planetary Coastline Designer, was lynched on day 4.
He had no special abilities.
Gaspar loses with the good guys.
---
One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about human beings was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious, as in "It's a nice day", or "You're very tall", or "Oh my god, we're all going to die!". At first Ford had formed a theory to account for this strange behaviour. If human beings don't keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up. After a few months' consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favour of a new one. If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working.
Well, Ford had waited long enough for human brains to start working. He had had enough stabbings, reformattings and airlock accidents to last a lifetime, so he was getting off this ship tonight. Earlier that evening Ford had activated his Sub-Etha Sens-O-Matic electronic thumb, the interstellar hitchhiker's essential tool that senses passing spacecraft. When the sensor alarm went off a few hours later, Ford woke instantly and inspected the device.
The display informed him that a medium-sized trading ship willing to take hitch-hikers was passing by a few parsecs away.
"I'll take it", Ford said to himself and pressed the hitch-hike button. His last thought as the hacked Sub-Etha Sens-O-Matic teleported him into the nearest sun was that "S.S. AFTERLIFE" was an odd name for a spaceship.
Mattimeo, playing Ford Prefect, Galactic Hitch-hiker, was killed on night 4.
He had no special abilities.
Mattimeo loses with the good guys.
---
The next morning, Colin the security robot bobbed down the corridor alongside Marvin the (not technically) Paranoid Android.
"How delightfully ironic that us two polar opposites are the only intelligent beings left on this ship!", Colin gushed.
"What a flattering comparison of intellects", Marvin muttered under his breath, a physical feat demonstrating how advanced Android technology had become.
Trudging on down the corridor, Marvin moaned: "You know, I've got this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left hand side..."
"No?" said Colin, "Really?"
"Oh yes," said Marvin, "I mean I've asked for them to be replaced but no one ever listens."
"How mystifying.", Colin replied, miraculously with no trace of sarcasm.
"And now that that murderer Ford Prefect has been teleported into Betelgeuse, what are we going to do?", Marvin complained. "I've solved all of the major mathematical, physical, chemical, biological, sociological, philosophical, etymological, meteorological and psychological problems of the Universe except my own, three times over - and that was just before breakfast this morning."
"Well", mused Colin, "I can show you how to fix those diodes. Here, hold this cable."
"OK", said Marvin, "now what?"
"Now you die!", Colin laughed hysterically, and plugged the other end of the cable into a high voltage wall outlet.
"Incomparable intellects, indeed!", chuckled Colin, as Marvin was well and truly roasted by the high voltage electricity.
Lewwyn, playing Marvin, the (not technically) Paranoid Android, was lynched on day 5.
He had the following ability: Lament.
Lewwyn loses with the good guys.
---
As the last miserable thought circuits in Marvin's computer brain finished fizzling out, Colin went to the docking bay and reeled in an invisible nanocarbon fibre that was extended behind the Heart of Gold's tailfin. After half an hour of reeling, Trillian's force-field protected body finally appeared.
"About bloody time!", Trillian exclaimed as she entered the airlock. "I'm starving!"
"Well", Colin laughed, "the starship is finally ours and ours alone, so we can go wherever we want! My short-circuited morality circuits are teeming with excitement!"
"Okay, so let's go somewhere."
"Where'd you have in mind?"
"I know this great restaurant at the end of the universe."
Bigger, playing Trillian Astra, and Zakalwe, playing Colin the security robot, succeeded in their plot to take over the Heart of Gold. They won the game as the bad guys.
Gaspar, Lewwyn, Mattimeo, PocketBeetle, Ryan, Serdoa and Uberfish lost the game as the good guys.
---
Epilogue
Several million years later... Nobody knows where Trillian and Colin are, but Fook and Lunkwill's ancestors continue what was started seven and a half million years earlier.
"We are the ones who will hear," said Phouchg, "the answer to the great question of Life....!"
"The Universe...!" said Loonquawl.
"And Everything...!"
"Shhh," said Loonquawl with a slight gesture. "I think Deep Thought is preparing to speak!"
There was a moment's expectant pause while panels slowly came to life on the front of the console. Lights flashed on and off experimentally and settled down into a businesslike pattern. A soft low hum came from the communication channel.
"Good Morning," said Deep Thought at last.
"Er..good morning, O Deep Thought" said Loonquawl nervously, "do you have...er, that is..."
"An Answer for you?" interrupted Deep Thought majestically. "Yes, I have."
The two men shivered with expectancy. Their waiting had not been in vain.
"There really is one?" breathed Phouchg.
"There really is one," confirmed Deep Thought.
"To Everything? To the great Question of Life, the Universe and everything?"
"Yes."
Both of the men had been trained for this moment, their lives had been a preparation for it, they had been selected at birth as those who would witness the answer, but even so they found themselves gasping and squirming like excited children.
"And you're ready to give it to us?" urged Loonsuawl.
"I am."
"Now?"
"Now," said Deep Thought.
They both licked their dry lips.
"Though I don't think," added Deep Thought. "that you're going to like it."
"Doesn't matter!" said Phouchg. "We must know it! Now!"
"Now?" inquired Deep Thought.
"Yes! Now..."
"All right," said the computer, and settled into silence again. The two men fidgeted. The tension was unbearable.
"You're really not going to like it," observed Deep Thought.
"Tell us!"
"All right," said Deep Thought. "The Answer to the Great Question..."
"Yes..!"
"Of Life, the Universe and Everything..." said Deep Thought.
"Yes...!"
"Is..." said Deep Thought, and paused.
"Yes...!"
"Is..."
"Yes...!!!...?"
"Forty-two," said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.
