Oh, the horror.

Your daily kill stories

Mildred (2) dealt a good, wet hand to Jack of Spades (0)

They say the first kill is the hardest but the second is the sweetest, thats right ....
Jack of Spades is dead.

In a hong over daze I rode the buss all the way out to SF State it was raining but I was wearing a low brimmed hat.

After consulting the map I made the short walk across the campus. I got hungry along the way so I decided to stop at the pizza shop and get a slice. While in line I met a super hot 19 year old blond girl. I turned on the assassin charm and convinced her to lead me to my targets room. She said she didn't like him any way and he should get shot. She seemed kinda disappointed when she found out I was only going to shot him with a water gun.

As we were walking up to the dorms eating our pizza (looking like regular student folk) Jack came walking around the corner with a group of friends, only to receive an icy blast in the face from sparkly pink and purple water pistil. I quickly retrieved his card and went inside the dorms to finish my pizza with my nubile young coed.

Total stalk time 25min. I got a shitty slice of pizza and a date next week
with my new concubine.

Nahsor (3) made two kills in 24 hours with the wetting of Jay Likewise (0)

Dearest shadow government,
I have archived what may be the dream of many... the elusive 2 in 24. Jay Likewise was hopeless against me. Posted in front of his house, I saw someone with an older man getting ready to work on a car. Unsure if the mark was mine, I waited until he went inside and asked the man if that was indeed Jose. He said yes. Knowing that this was my chance, I went between the door and garage and waited for him to come out. Then I capped him. Sucka. whos next? I want 3 in 24.
-Agent Nahsor

Zeno (6) continues his seemingly unstopable killing spree by taking down TMP (0)

After the circumstances surrounding Mr. Opolis' demise and a reevaluation of my own acceptable risk levels, I decided that I might benefit from greater research on my next Target. As luck would have it, Friday morning revealed quite a bit of useful information about Mark #6.

As a 19-year-old college student working nights and weekends at the local supermarket, Mark had the appearance of the perfect schedule for his own benefit: maximum safe zoneage coupled with the unpredictable vigor of youth. As observers, we can expect Mark to have an erratic sleeping/waking cycle, coming and going at ungodly hours of midday and midnight, nearly untraceable without constant surveillance.

Alas, there was a fatal flaw in this design, and like Alexander the Great through the knot of King Gordius, one swipe of my sword laid bare the solution: supermarkets are notorious for reporting employee schedule information to anyone phoning up claiming to be said employee.

Thus it was at 2pm today I found myself a hundred meters from Target's house, sipping a bitter cappuccino at a small round table outside of Royal Grounds, with the sweet knowledge that when Mark left for work, I had a clear view of his departure.

As 10 minutes to 3pm ticked itself out of my life forever, I realized that Mark may have been lucky enough to find himself waking in the bed of another this morning, as those virile college students often do, and my glorious soaking might have to wait another eight hours for him to leave the safety of the corporate nest. However, an alternate truth soon revealed itself: instead of walking to work, he cut his commute in half with a portable HPV. At 2:52pm, he emerged with a skateboard and began to skate towards safety, quickly rolling from my grasp.

As I watched my luck quickly fade, I determined not yet to give up hope. Fleet of foot, I ran parallel to Mark's trajectory, knowing that if I could maintain my speed uphill, our paths would cross soon enough. Four blocks away, I realized my Target's deadly sin of choice was none other than Sloth, and it proved to be his undoing. I graciously greeted him:

- "I know you're running late for work, so I'll keep this short."

[Spurt.]

- "Oh, shit."

They say that water giveth, and water taketh away, and the waterworks measuring my own time here has begun to run dry. When the time comes for a refill, I grok that the new watergiver's coming will signify a new existence for me, a parting with the resplendent life I have enjoyed here in streetwars, sharing my own life-giving water with those whose paths I have crossed. It is my hope that I may still have the chance to extend my water-brothership to others before the watergiver visits me again.

I patiently await my next assignment.

-Agent Zeno