Rocky Mafia Game Thread (Day Five)

[T-Marv]

Gooch... check either TJ or Pancho. Doctor... protect Gooch.

I know who I'm tracking tonight.

Tomorrow (based on Gooch's info) We should look at Rebel.

[T-Marv]

Also, if there's a watcher, get a watch on me or Level One... or JamesV(though somehow I find that highly unlikely to help )

[Pepsi]

Okay, let's do this then.

Vote: Callahan

[A.C. Smith]

That is a LYNCH as of Pepsi's vote. Write-up coming.

[A.C. Smith]

We don't know what time it is, and it's irrelevant anyway because where we are doesn't have windows. We hear the hum of many machines running simultaneously, and we see two men walking down a hallway in very angry fashion. When we hear them speak, they both have very heavy accents.

Man #1: “This whole program was YOUR idea. Moscow has spent millions, tens of millions of dollars on it, and what have we gotten? NOTHING!”

Man #2: “People are human. Even here. And things happen.”

An electronic door opens, and the two men walk in. Their expression, though, changes drastically when their eyes come up from the floor.

In front of us lies world-renowned amateur boxer Ivan Drago. He went 100-0 in amateur competition, with arms like tree limbs, a chin of granite, and as much muscle per body inch as anyone in recorded history.

The boxing glove on his right hand is worn out from use. The machine closest to him, one we saw several days ago that measures a boxer's pounds per square inch ratio in his punches, has a totally worn-out pad.

Man #1: “Oh, my. We can't say he didn't have heart.”

Man #2: “He punched himself to death. When he punched, electrical currents went through his arm, and the punches were so hard that the shock would have killed a dozen men.”

Silence.

Man #2: “What will we tell the Premier?”

Man #1: “We? What WE?”

DEAD: Ivan Drago, Michael Callahan, Third Party Serial Killer

Night four begins NOW. Send in your night actions by 10:30 p.m. Eastern time on TUESDAY, MARCH 12. Note that I may wait to submit the write-up until Wednesday morning due to my work schedule, but the deadline still holds firm.

[A.C. Smith]

Writeup is in the works now. Sorry for the wait; as I sort of anticipated, work got in the way last night.

[A.C. Smith]

High noon. We're far from the hustle and bustle of city life in Philadelphia. Instead, we're halfway across the state, in a deserted part of the Pocono Mountains.

We see Tommy Gunn and Clubber Lang standing in the middle of a field, waiting for someone to show up. Indeed, after a few seconds, several cars roll into the picture.

The doors open, and out come six people we know very well. Rocky Balboa, Mickey Goldmill, Apollo Creed, Tony Duke, Anthony Gazzo, and Paulie stand in front of their cars.

Rocky: "What did you want us here for?"

Mickey: "Your boss is dead. Your careers are dead. The one guy you both could've fought to make money is dead. What more do you have left to accomplish?"

Tommy: "Mick, hear us out. We're sorry things worked out this way."

Clubber: "Yeah. You think we WANTED this to get violent outside of a boxing ring? All we wanted was a shot."

Tony: "And you thought THIS was the best way to get it?"

Apollo: "What are you getting at?"

Tommy: "Let's all unite. Form one big corporation that controls the heavyweight division. You guys all know money, and that's a way we can make it."

Paulie: "And in the meantime, what do we tell Marie's family? Or Spider's kids? Or the promoter that went out of business when Thunderlips died?"

Gazzo: "Gents, I think we've heard enough. Let's go."

Clubber: "Shame you didn't see it our way."

Suddenly, Tommy and Clubber pull out guns from their pockets and begin shooting. Instantly, Paulie is hit and drops dead, and Gazzo is clipped in the leg.

While the other four drive off, Gazzo opts to stay behind despite his wound. He pulls out a six-shooter of his own and shoots wildly. Most of them miss Tommy and Clubber by several feet, but the last bullet he shoots before taking another shot to the chest hits Tommy Gunn squarely in the head.

Seeing that nothing more can be done and that he needs to hightail it before police arrive, Lang scurries away. People will wonder about the three dead bodies for months to come, but only a handful of people know the truth, and they're not in any hurry to talk about it.

DEAD: Paulie, papapancho, Hated Town Roleblocker
DEAD: Anthony Gazzo, Johnny Rebel, Town One-Shot Vigilante
DEAD: Tommy Gunn, TJ, Mafia Hitman

ALIVE PLAYERS

1) T-Marv
2) Pepsi
3) Mark Mania
4) L-1
5) JamesV
6) Gooch
7) Havok
8) Crown Jules

With eight players alive, it takes FIVE votes for a lynch.

Day five begins NOW, and will end at 10:30 a.m. Eastern time on SATURDAY, MARCH 15.

[T-Marv]

Town Confirmed (by one source or another)

T-Marv
Pepsi
L-1
JamesV
Gooch
Havok

Mania (This was more an assumption than anything based on who he visited one night.)

Gooch, were you roleblocked last night?

[Mark Mania]

Well, looking at who's confirmed. Makes it pretty easy to get the last scum I would assume.

Vote: Jules

[T-Marv]

I thought that too Mania... but I wanna wait for Gooch to answer me.

If he doesn't, then he was silenced, or roleblocked.

And if that's the case, then I have our man!

[Michael Jennings]

Going to wait on Tmarv's info before voting. Not too surprised about TJ turning up scum considering his post the last day phase with a suspects/suspicion list that was probably done to throw us off.

[T-Marv]

Well gooch has been on and hasn't posted. I would assume he would have done so already if he could.

Jules visited Gooch last night. I'm assuming he either roleblocked or silenced him.

Vote: Jules

[Pepsi]

Seems like good info to me.

Vote: Jules

[Level-Two]

Vote: Jules

It's a wrap folks.

[Michael Jennings]

Vote: Jules

Good work, team.

[A.C. Smith]

That is a LYNCH as of JamesV's vote.

A write-up will be posted later this afternoon after this whole "new pope" thing dies down.

[A.C. Smith]

Daytime. We're back in Philadelphia, and the streets appear much safer than they were several days ago. Out of a back alley, though, peeks the familiar face of Clubber Lang, looking desperate and like he hasn't had a good meal in quite a while.

As the only remaining member of George Washington Duke's ill-fated stable of fighters and law-breakers, he knows his days are probably numbered. However, the former inmate from Chicago has embraced his fate. At least he was a World Heavyweight Champion...and at least he's going to go out with a bang.

He walks down the block as if nothing is wrong, going right past the pet store Adrian Balboa works at. Immediately, Adrian sees the man who aided in murdering her brother, Paulie, and she ducks down to call the cops.

Instead of running, Clubber just sits on a bench, eating a sandwich as the cops come and surround him in their cars.

Voice: "Clubber Lang, you are under arrest! Put your hands up!"

Upon hearing this, Adrian runs out of the pet store to watch him get taken into custody. Unfortunately for her, this was all part of Clubber's plan to go out in a blaze of glory.

Lang immediately pulls out his gun and fires two shots into Adrian's body before being gunned down himself by Philadelphia's finest. The cops on the scene are stunned, and while the city of Philadelphia, and the boxing world as a whole, can sleep a bit easier this evening, there's no doubt that the scars left by the war waged by Duke, Tommy Gunn, and Clubber Lang won't heal anytime soon.

DEAD: Adrian Balboa, JamesV, Town Journalist (Watcher)
DEAD: Clubber Lang, Crown Jules (formerly Trevor Hyatt), Mafia Silencer (bomb)

GAME OVER; TOWN WINS!

Fallout thread to follow.