Mafia: It's Like Werewolf But Better

Mafia: It's Like Werewolf But Better is a game of Mafia, hosted in The Spectrum by Mushy Pea. It was the first Mafia/ Werewolf game played in The Spectrum that used the Mafia theme, as the previous four games in the region used that of Werewolf. The game is currently in progress, and it commenced on 16th April, 2007.

Players

1. Dhatsun
2. Daveanoyl Chloride
3. Buttery Boonswoggles
4. Calumnius
5. Oldham Road
6. Sherylannia
7. White-Rose
8. Nintenduu 64
9. Don Flanioso
10. Domas-Porada
11. Adoggo

Rules

Courtesy of White-Rose
Rules were pretty much standard. Day and night lasted for one realtime day each to give players chance to use night abilities if they have them. WEEKEND WAS CLASSED AS ONE DAY.

In order to vote, clearly state who you are voting using the 'Vote: [name]' format. When votes were cas players would either inform Mushy Pea either in person or by telegram so the vote was counted rather than being pushed off the messages lists. Change of vote was easy, it could be carried out as many times as a player liked, as long as the last vote was unvoted first, by saying 'Unvote: [name]'.

Plot

Day One

PROLOGUE –

The moonlight reflected off the softly undulating tide, causing all shadows to flicker and shake as if they were nervous. Two figures, with a third suspended between them, lumbered their way along the pier until they came to their grimy destination: the enormous container full of the fish that had spoiled that day before they made it back to shore. Tomorrow, it would either be dumped into the ocean for the sharks or it would be used as bait, whichever came first. Either way, it was what they wanted. two of them were there because of a job. Not a particularly hard job; in fact it was insultingly easy, which was part of the reason why one was in such a sore mood that night. The other was there because the Don had told him he would be at the pier one way or another, and he took that to mean the worst, which it probably did. Life was hard in the mafia. It got fun with the occasional whoopee cushion on the Don’s chair at dinner, but it wasn’t fun for long, especially if said dinner required a steak knife.
They looked at the container and grabbed their payload at each end hurling it into the stink pit, sending a pungent and extremely disgusting volley of squid towards them upon impact.
“I’ll get tha car, you clean this up.”
“Well, why me?”
“’Cuz I said so.”
“Well I ain’t doin’ it.”
“You wanna die?”
“No.”
“Then do it.”
“Shut up, I ain’t doin’ it.”
“Well it’s gotta get done. The workers know that the seagulls don’t eat 50 pounds of squid all at once.”
“Well, I ain’t doin’ it.”
“Why?”
“’Cuz”
“’Cuz why?”
“’Cuz I don’t like squid, a’ight.”
“…”
“What? I don’t.”
“You’d better be f*ckin’ jokin’ me. TELL ME ya f*ckin’ jokin’ me.”
“No…They’re all slimy n’ smelly n’ they f*ckin’ ink all over the place, an’ Ma jus’ got me a new suit wit summa tha casino money, an I don’ wanna piss ‘er off, a’ight?”
“Then why’d you agree ta work tha stiff?”
“I made you take tha messy end. Plus, they got that beak.”
“…”
“No, seriously, they got that hard little beak that they bite on stuff wit. That’s a f*ckin’ nightmare right there. What if one o’ thems is still alive?”
“Do they f*ckin’ smell alive to you?”
“What if one bites me?”
“Then I’ll kiss it and make it all f*ckin’ betta.”
“Whateva’, I still ain’t pickin’ up no squid.”
“No squid, then? Fine…”
He drew his pistol, a .45 his father had gotten him for his birthday when he was 14, and made a few of the squid about as dead as anything can get.
“There. Now it’s soup. Pick it up.”
“That’s f*ckin’ gross.”
“Look in tha mirra, momma’s boy.”
“Just because my Ma loves me betta than yours is no reason fa you ta bully me aroun’”
“She don’ love you, she just thinks yous is too much uva igormus ta know ya head from ya arse without her help.”
“That’s ignoramus.”
“Why thank you, Dr. Princeton-F*cking-Dipsh*t! Next time ya feel like gracin’ me wit your amazin’ smarts, why don’ ya gimme fair warning so I at least know when to get down on my knees, wilyeh?
“Eh, f*ck you!”
“You would, pansy!”
There was a tense moment of silence during which nothing happened. Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen. Minutes passed as the two did their best to avoid each other’s eyes until…
“Look, maybe you could jus’ kick tha squid inta tha wata, and th…”
“What was that?”
“I said maybe ya could jus’…”
“I’m sorry, my hearin’ must be bad tonight. Speak up.”
“Look, jus’ kick tha squid inta tha wata and we’ll be done wit it.”
“Oh, do my ears deceive me, or did you jus’ cut me sum slack?”
“Oh, yeah, do that then. F*ckin’ rub it in. Real nice.”
“A’ight, a’ight, but I won’ fuhget this.”
“You will if I tells ya to.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and began gingerly nudging all the squid into the water one by one with his toe. While the other turned the corner, slid into the driver’s seat of his ’72 Cadillac, discovered it wouldn’t start, swore at it until it did and drove around to meet his partner.
“Hey, who was that stiff anyways?”
“Him? That was Jimmy Salieri.”
“You sure?”
There was a pause.
“Y…e…a…h… why?”
“I dunno, it didn’ really look like ‘im. Looked familiar, but not like ‘im.”
“Well, maybe he dyed ‘is hair or sumthin. He was hidin’ from the Don.”
“Maybe. Come ta think of it, I don’ think Jimmy lives in a house. ‘e lives in a ‘partment in Queens, righ’?”
“Huh.”
“Hey, you know who that stiff reminds me of…the Don’s ol’ friend, Joe Carducci.”
“Oh, yeah, Uncle Joe. Heh.”
Silence.

“Oh sh*t,”

DAY 1 BEGINS.
DAY 1 WILL END 8PM TUESDAY
Joe Carducci [Whitmorium] sleeps with the fishes