The Mirdini MSPAF Mafia Memorial

Night Three Start

Once more evening approached, but this time the assembly was far more composed and collected. Niall’s lies had fallen apart piece by piece following the shocking revelations in the morning, until he was eventually reduced to insisting that anyone who attempted to drag him to the authorities would be going with him. The crowd bought not a jot of it as the day went on. curiousCat, who had been convinced his weavings were fabrications from the start, only seized upon the sudden modifications of his story as more proof of the web of lies he was undoubtedly constructing. As more and more people agreed with her, Niall grew yet more nervous – it looked like his time was up.

Which was exactly when his voice descended into raucuous snoring. Not that the crowd was deterred by this – Niall’s voice had gone missing for extended periods of time throughout the session, which they were sure was just a ploy for him to buy time, and soon after his final proclamation Airey and Blueberry both agreed that Niall had to go, as he was surely a MEDICAL MALCONTENT.

As the crowd drew closer to Niall’s slumbering form, they ascertained that he was indeed (as many had suspected) a personage of the canine variety – rather, a impeccably vicious breed of bulldog. Still, his sleeping form seemed harmless, and utterly ignoring the old adage to “let sleeping dogs lie” Blueberry reached for his snoozing form.

A moment, two passed as her arms curled around the dog, only to find that nothing was happening. It seemed his ploy had been a bluff, a ruse, and this only confirmed that they strange reality was that an animal had somehow joined the ranks of the enemy. Blueberry only became more determined by this discovery, and proceeded to carry Niall’s sleeping form outside to hand over to the authorities as per protocol. She crossed the parking lot without incident, reaching several policemen who had been hustled out to take custody of the “suspect”. Handing him over, Blueberry turned around to return to the lobby and what would presumably be another eventful night. She even made it almost halfway across the parking lot.

Niall had been in the grip of a rather deep slumber, but his manhandling by Blueberry had awoken an internal clock, one that ticked ever downwards as she crossed the concrete and pavement, as he was placed into custody of the police, as she absconded back towards the bright glass doors of C.J. Memorial. It ticked down to zero as she passed the empty parking lot where once Maralyn Arnsworths’ car had stood.

The sight was at once terrible and marvelous to behold. Some of the patrons of C.J. Memorial had seen angry dogs, some had even had the misfortune of being at the mercy of one or treating a patient with similar misfortunes, but none had ever encountered the sight of a fully grown demented pitbull letting loose. Needless to say, there wasn’t much left of the three officers surrounding the animal a few moments after he snapped awake.

Free of the hospital and without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the strudel of flesh and blood that surrounded him and his reasons for being there, Niall gambolled straight through a stunned police blockade and a rapidly parting crowd off into the sunset.

Niall was JAYDEN, SENILE ATTACK DOG. He had come to C.J. Memorial hospital with his master, who had refused to leave him at home when she was hospitalized for being TOO DAMN OLD (as Niall was himself). His master’s inevitable death forced the hospital to tranquilize him, sending him into a SNOOZENING. When he eventually woke up in the morning he tragically had no clue as to why he was even in C.J. Memorial due to a crippling case of DOG ALZHEIMERS (he was, after all, WAY TOO OLD.) All he knew was that everyone was making a HELLA LOTTA NOISE and that that was the signal for him to GET BITING.

Being a TRAINED ATTACK DOG he could have STOOD VIGIL at any morning. From that point forward until the following morning he would FURIOUSLY MAUL anyone who approached him (day or night!), rendering them ACCEPTABLY DEAD. However, being a FOSSILIZED MUTT he could only maintain this state of CANINE VIGILANCE for 24 hours – for the entirety of the following day he inevitably fell into THE SNOOZENING once more. For some peculiar reason you all were still be able to interpret his FRANTIC SNOOZE-SCRABBLING into something resembling language.

As he was a GOOD DOG, BEST MAULER he stood on the side of JUSTICE AND THE CANINE WAY. Thus he wished the nefarious MEDICAL MALCONTENTS eliminated, both because it was the RIGHT THING TO DO and because only then could he finally RETURN HOME – if he even remembered where it was. The thought that he could just MAUL his way out of the hospital never occurred to him as he was, of course, IMPECCABLY TRAINED.

With everyone in the lobby (and a rather terrified Blueberry) rendered speechless by the whirlwind of death that Niall had proven to be, you all retire to your rooms without much fanfare. There were, after all, actions to be taken this night as with any other.

It is now NIGHT 3. Please have your actions in within 48-72 hours.