Less wanking, more killing... please...

Your daily kill stories

Mr. Six (1) stuck it to ShermStick (0)

Most noble Commanders, both Mustachioed and Supreme,

I'm writing to report the liquidation of Agent Sherstick.

The last four days were filled with anxiety and frustration - anxiety over whether or not I'd have a chance to draw a gun on my target, and frustration over the special circumstances under which my hunt was taking place. The target had lucked into what seemed like a dream situation for a game such as ours, with an apartment directly above the bar he worked at. At first glance, it was a dire situation indeed. Some recon was in order.

After much study of the target's habits while working, including one night spent in his bar and drinking the wine he brought us, I determined a weak point: He often stepped outside to help customers or to walk to the bar next door. It wasn't much, and it wasn't the grand battle I was hoping for, but it appeared that I were to dispense with him in the first week, it would have to do.

After missing him last night, I swung by his bar again earlier this evening. While mingling with the crowd outside behind the oh so simple mask of a fine cigarette, he walked out to take an order. On his way back in I stepped up and said his name. He looked up, and I fired at his heart.

It was a discreet, quiet kill. Had any one been watching they would have thought I was asking for the time.

Agent Sherstick was a perfect gentlemen about the whole thing. He ran inside to get me his card, wished me good luck with the rest of the game, and sent me on my way with a smile. Couldn't have asked for a nicer target, really.

I await my next assignment with great anticipation.

Globex (3) cooled down Village Heat (0)

I chilled in front of her work for a couple of hours after confirming by phone that she was in the building. My teammates gave me the intel that her office hours ended at 6pm (learn to sweet talk your secrataries!) so I waited. I even went as far as to go to her floor, but at about 5:50pm I was literally ten feet in front of her building entrance pretending to hail a cab, luckily it was rush hour on madison ave and 50th and there was no cabs to be found! From this vantage point I easily spotted her walk out her building at 6:05pm. I then proceeded to follow around her safe block till she crossed 5th ave and I nailed her in the middle of the intersection. She utterd the same words as our last kill, which was two blocks away, " Oh Shit!"

and now....she's gone!

FLip Dog

This message was brought to you by the Globex Corporation

Fresh Chango (1) read Dostoevsky to Ze Idiot (0) till he fell asleep

My cover job as an attorney with a white shoe Wall Street law firm is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that it affords me an aura of respectability that grants me access to certain circles without arousing suspicion.  A curse in that it regularly demands large swaths of my time, thus taking away from my opportunities to stalk and liquidate.

Anyhow, today I found myself in the rare position of leaving the office before most respectable folks are in bed.  In full alter-ego lawyer-garb, I immediately proceeded to 85th and York, the intersection nearest my mark's abode.  Not knowing his schedule, I pretended to make calls and be engrossed in my Blackberry, all the while keeping his front door in my peripheral vision.

I was soon distracted, however, by the Irish pub next door. Unable to resist, I went in and ordered a Brooklyn.  Bad omens immediately, in that the keg had just been changed and the beer foamy.  I had to settle for a Blue Moon.  I moved near the window on the long hope that my target would pass by.  Two smoking girls, smoking, were outside.  Standing next to my mark.  Could I be this lucky?  I went outside and pretended to be on a call, telling the non-existant party on the other end that the bar was cranking Aerosmith and so I had to go outside.

To maximize my stealth, my weapon of choice is a small hand-held, the equivalent of a water stilleto, for the savory close kill.  I weighed whether to ask the girls for a smoke, to stand next to my target, but I saw the butt of his weapon sticking out of the edge of his bag.  I had to play it cool, so I went inside to figure out my next move.  As I reentered the bar, he left.  "Fuck me" I thought. I had to act quickly.  I followed him for two blocks, down to 82nd, and headed towards 1st from York.  He was about halfway down the long block, so I did a crouched jog down the middle of the road, dodging cabs and parked cars.

He was waiting for the light to change.  I crept up, and called his name, squirting him as he turned.  Kill!!!

A gentleman, my mark.  He was on his way to stalk his target.  We spoke briefly, exchanging out Streetwars tales.  I headed to the bar for a well-deserved cocktail as he headed back the way he had come from.

Team Shark (2) wetted Il Padrone(0)

Team Shark dined out again this evening.  After exhausting the menu over three nights at the delightful French bistro across the street from the lair of the squid, we could no longer contain ourselves. 

Menu

• Appetizer: "Baked" Calamari
  
• Entree: Stunned Live Squid Sushi
  
• Dessert: Pizza, a nice Chianti and Coffee Ice Cream

The evening's highlight was the magnificent display of Agent Hammerhead's efficient Squid Neutralization technique while Agent Mako continued plotting global domination.

The squid earned our lasting respect before its untimely visit to Davy Jones' Locker with its vehemence towards its own prey and its Southern hospitality.

Team Shark is still hungry and the ocean is deep.

Team Shark (2) delicatedly erased DelicateZero (0)

Agent Hammerhead was growing weary of calamari day after day.  Wouldn't a late lunch of stringray be a welcome change?

The stingray fought valiantly but its 99 cent neon green barb missed the mark by a mile. 

It was the finest stingray Agent Hammerhead has ever feasted upon, since the helpful fish provided fantastic information on the crustacean it has been hunting.

The ocean is deep, dark and cold and the sharks are swarming stealthily.

We remain your humble servants and eagerly await our next feeding.

Team Bushwick Country Club (5) took down one more member of the Drunked Redheaded Sluts (0)

Team Bushwick Country Club eliminated one J.S., who as of 9:26 am ceases to squirt. This mornings hit came as a complete surprise to Agent Slater. After luring her into a false sense of security with a kamikaze agent, we underwent a long night of binge drinking and strategic discussion. At 6:15 am Team B.C.C. mobilized and positioned ourselves at the agents place of residence. After 2.5 hours of surveilance, 6 cups of coffee, and what must have been 3 liters of urine, agent Slater emerged from her home. Upon identification by agents who had been in close contact with the mark yesterday, the active members moved in and eliminated the target. She literally didn't see it coming. We are currently drinking red bull and awaiting further instruction.

Firestarter (1) gave a Sweetback (1) a watery set back

After days of extremely patient surveillance yours truly, Agent Firestarter, smoked the target known as [Agent Sweetback]. I didn't catch his agent name. Cupcake or some pussy shit like that. Anyway, his punk as is drying off right now.

At approximately 6:30 this afternoon I spotted the target leaving his job with two look-outs guarding him. He walked past me as I continued reading the New York Times. Did you know that even though city crime have dropped, youth-related crimes continues to rise? Well I trailed the target and watched as he nervously looked around. I thought he had spotted me when he reached the end of his work block, looking back twice. As he and his bodyguards made a left I continued straight ahead. Now this was quite a risky move, as I had lost sight of the target circling the block. But since he was out of my site I was out of his. Now it was on. Throwing the newspapers in a pile of trash I reached for my gun and made a nice 360 around the block to find the target waiting at the light. I crossed the street, not making any eye contact, then turned around as if suddenly realizing that I was headed the wrong way. Now we were facing each other at opposite corners waiting for the light to change. It turned green and the target walked right towards me. As we crossed paths I called his name and that was the end of it.

Who's next?

Oh, and I neutralized Humperdink for the second time yesterday. Where's the real agents at?

El Matador (1) screamed "OLE!" and Charrington (0) charged to her chagrin

By Agent El Matador, Agent Charrington, at approximately 9:40 pm Friday evening, on the corner of 46th St and 5th Ave.

I was starting to wonder if my training had failed me; or perhaps I'd burned out after my countless years in Uganda as an assassin for Idi Amin. Had I lost my touch? Maybe I just didn't want it bad enough. Or worse still, was I growing a conscience? Well, I was finally able to put all those doubts to rest after a textbook stakeout and ambush of Agent Charrington. I had broken the cardinal rule ALL assassins must live by: Never underestimate your enemy. I thought Agent Charrington would roll over easier than an ugly prom date, but I was wrong. She proved to be a worthy adversary and refused to accept defeat even as the life was drained from her arteries by my barrage of aquatic annihilation. I will be happy to see you again in the next life Agent Charrington. Meanwhile, the killing must go on ...

My next assignment please, esteemed Commanders.

Your Humble Servant,

El Matador

Agent Stealth (1) swatted Agent Fly-On-Shit (2)

First day on the rag, first kill. It must have been the blood that made me hungry.

Well, my well-thought out, painstakingly patient and agonizingly strategic planning and waiting and stressing all paid off this evening (Thursday) when I made my kill, staring right into his sparkling blue eyes.

Who did I have in my kill packet but a LAW SCHOOL PROFESSOR. Hilarious. With much consultation from one of my own friends in law school, we devised a fake persona (Jessica) that used his law school email address. We also gave him Jessica's killer and detailed resume! we emailed him on Sunday morning saying that Jessica, a second year law student, had a second round interview at some prestigious law firm he had worked for (my friend's idea) and that she would SO love to meet with him to chat about his experience, get advice for the interview, and overall gain perspective. It was my firm belief that I couldn't be an agent that ambushed from waiting on the street, I needed to be a secret undercover agent. I needed to set up a rendez-vous with my prey.

So, I agonized over every email to send. I created another persona on Monday that I tried to make as his fake killer - a dude. I created an email address that was crude and sent him a bafoon-like message, saying he shouldn't expect to live past Tuesday, in order to lure him away from thinking that Jessica could be his killer as we tried to set up a meeting for Wednesday or Thursday. He suggested that Jessica meet him in his office. DAMN! I couldn't strike. I researched a great little coffee place near his office and sent a very forward email that urged him to meet me there because it was such a great place, and i really wanted to treat him to coffee and pierogis for being so nice and taking time to meet with me. a little too forward. maybe too suspicious. he didn't write back for way longer than a non-suspicious person should. i knew i had to do something so i emailed him from the fake killer address saying that I had just died and someone else was his killer now... so much strategizing, and i later found out that it barely was analyzed by my prey! maybe he should have been thinking better and playing more mind games!

anyway, to cut to the chase, it's an hour before the meeting we were partly planning for today, i'm at work - a good hour away from brooklyn - and Mr. Law Professor has not confirmed our meeting. i don't know if it's on or off, or if i'll ever live long enough to finally see a meeting through!!! i'm despairing, and at the 11th hour, he emails and says he'll see me there!!!! i have to convince my bosses to let me leave early, and run for my life to brooklyn. i had good subway karma, yet i felt like i was gonna have a heartattack the whole way. the anticipation. the fear. anything could happen. i needed luck, stealth and grace. it would be my first time ever fooling and killing, as i'm usually an innocent character. i tried to force myself to breathe as i positioned my gun and spray bottle (it gets better squirting mileage, i swear!) in my bag, trying to think of how long i'd keep the ruse going during our meeting.

there he was, sitting at the outdoor cafe. i feigned like i didn't recognize him, though i had immediately. after all, this was jessica's first time seeing him! immediately i sat down so close to him at this tiny little table, with my bag on the back of my chair. thinking: how am i going to pull the gun out...i better do it soon before my true identity becomes obvious., luckily, for a good ten minutes i could carry on a conversation with him. mostly he talked while i encouraged him to answer questions about the AMAZING firm he had worked for. ooooh, how interesting...NOT. he was a sweet man though. i could see it in his eyes and the longer i tried to get his fake career help, i felt a little guilty! i was about to pretend to get my resume out of my bag and shoot him, but before i had to, lucky for me my cell phone went off. i said excuse me as i rummaged around in my bag, then finally pulled out my spray bottle___ BAM BAM BAM, a few squirts and he was DEAD! i t was so awkward to squirt him in the middle of our totally formal professor-student career mentor-lowly entry-level discussion. i felt like my mind going blank a little, almost like leaving my body or being in a totally absurd movie. i squirted once (on his chest) and then a few more for good measure as the look on his face went from stunned to denial to recognition of his fate. being the sweet and innocent person i usually am, i right away actually said "sorry" and hugged him, though i could feel his resentment, and said i was buying us drinks! we ended up drinking two rounds of Brooklyn and then eating candy at his house. we had a talk of the trials and tribulations of being a lone agent. i basked in my glory. i felt primal, yet stuck giddy and crampy to the seat of a cafe chair. i wanted to run around the block doing a victory lap with my weapons waving in the air and screaming: who's your daddy! who's the winner!!!! but the brooklyn seemed to ease my frayed nerves. i can now die in peace. thank you target, and thank you my accomplice friend, and thank you YOU, Agent Stealth, ME, for being so goddamned cunning!

AGENT STEALTH SCORES!