Oh Hai, Peepl B Killnz 2Dai

Vaquero, make no mistake about it, you did kill Mr. Peter Stevens. Your weapon: total fucking annoyance.

The StreetWars Blog is the Times with my coffee. Don't piss on my paper and call it news or I'll write my own op/ed piece called Kill the Messenger.

Allkindsoftime seems to desire a quick death, with his quick story.

Now that I like to see. There's hope for the lot of you after all. Globix continue that execellent work.

Vaquero this isn't some sort of fan fic site.

For all you new jacks that are getting your first taste of the high life isn't wonderful? You never forget your first I remember mine Agent Kurgan...sigh I was sooo young then... In any case keep up the good work.

I look foward to doing battle with some of you. Remember be polite,be efficent and have a plan to kill everyone you meet.

For the record, Double-Knit Dynomite put it best. Team Black Death could not have written it better...

Fear us, we are coming for all of you to bed your womens and drink your ale.

And to the target who we stalked at home for 4 hours this morning, and 2 hours last night, be warned, you are only pissing us off and will be moist shortly. You have to come out of your hole sometime and when you do we will put one in your head and two in your lovely chest.

-Blackness
Black Death

Hey Blackness....be sure to take some pics of those wet fun bags.

Hey Blackness....be sure to take some pics of those wet fun bags.

Pssst, the ice man is coming, so all this chatter from all these "teams" will just make victory sweeter to the lone wolves out there like myself....

Run whilst you you can sheep, I'm hungry and *#@!%&^ is next...............

phire and "murdererer": save your bitchin' for the boss. i didn't post that, he did. i guess he didn't feel the need to edit it to protect your tiny little attention spans. for future reference, that thing at the right of your screen is called a scroll bar. feel free to use it anytime you feel confused by big words.

I will happily use the scroll bar. Can you put your name at the top of your posts so I know when to?

Coma las bolas del toro, Vaquero.

agent "Little My" got wet up by one slayer of hipsters. Details and video to come...

Took That Sneaky Bitch Out.

This little dry one must have sat in the stairwell for hours. All petite with her pistol by her side, waiting, reading what must have been a book on how to best get shot in the chest, point blank.

This school girl knows to step that game up now.

I got my spies all over this city. You think you ain't made?

At 5:40PM that's how we got down.

Yall can't touch me.

-Wonder.

Hmmm I sense potential for some fun for the rest of the rogues and I.

The Witchbaby was nearly attacked.

Too bad I sniffed the fucker out. He had that look in his eye.

Now I know what you look like motherfucker.

You have lost the golden element of surprise and I am IMMUNE until tomorrow night.

I got your face burned in my mind you Twat.

W

ATTENTION MUSTACHE COMMANDER:

The Triggermen spent the entire day today stalking our target,"Disavowed." He's elusive, but chatty. I Facebooked him earlier in the week and we've been trading quips & tips back and forth. I *thought* he was a gentleman assassin.

Until tonight.

Went for a stakeout at his place around 10PM. Didn't have an apartment number, so I peered through a window. Spotted him lounging on his couch, watching TV. Cat curled up in it's little cat bed on the loveseat or chair nearby. Real cozy.

I peaked through another window. No view. Moved to the third window and discovered it was open, with the screen keeping bugs out but letting in a cool breeze. I must've made a slight noise with my feet because my target, "Disavowed," sprang off the couch and ran to one of the other windows. I hid against the wall between windows until he made his way over to the open one. I quickly pressed my gun up to the screen and let loose a few blasts.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!" yelled my target. "You can't do that! Get out of here!"

"You're dead," I exclaimed. "Righteous kill."

"You can't come to my house!" he said.

"Bullshit I can't. Your house isn't a safe zone," I replied.

He stormed off to his kitchen to retrieve his rule book. Upon discovering that the rules were correct - and that this was no bullshit b&e - this bitch had the gall to say, "You didn't get me anyway."

We argued for a minute until he finally slammed his shutters closed.

I rang his doorbell. He did not answer. I told him I had him dead to rights. He knows it, I know it. He's dead.

Wouldn't give up his card. Not the gentleman assassin I thought he was.

Mustache Commander, I earned this kill. I peered into the man's living room. I could've shot his cat, but I'm an animal lover. Instead, I shot him. I shot his ass good & wet. He says no, but he's wrong. Dead man. Big time. Totally, completely, utterly dead.

Please advise.

Blackness requests when people get shot, they stay shot. None of this "you didnt get me" shit.

We are professionals, act like it.

The only time you ain't been got, is when you shoot back and hit first.

-Blackness
Team Black Death

Whaaa? This guy is for real? Are you serious? If I drop a grenade in a mans face, does it not blow his head off? Even a mist is shrapnel in this world, and you know there was more than just a mist when one of us are rolling up...

Who leaves a window open in a war?

Who goes home when you have targets to hunt?

What the fuck? Why does everyone this year just whine and talk lame ass shit? I didn't know this was StreetWars: Fag Edition. You're candy ass threats are like Danielle Steel lines compared to this:

Allow me to impress upon you the severe mistake you have made, for years my conduct has been largely benign and yet without provocation you have severed our d�tente and forced me to unleash upon you the vengeful flame of a thousand suns. You shall curse your mothers for the day of your birth. So go now. Go and begin your life of fear, knowing, that when you least expect it, the looming sword of Damocles will crush down upon you cleaving you in twain and as you gaze upon the smoking wreckage that was once your life, you will regret the day you crossed the wrong fish.

Fried chicken now, pussies.

I just found out that my guy has a job, but claimed to be unemployed on his sheet. Bullshit? What should be done about this?

Day two of stalking my target and still nothing. I gave him a ring and we had a little chat. He told he will be around the area in about 15 mins. Patiently waiting for his arrival I recieved a call from him letting me know he has taken the back door into his apt. and is safe for the night.

WHY SO SCARED??!!?!?!?!!?! I told you I was around inorder to confront you; Assassin to Corpse and you hide in fear. PERSIAN

No worries though. I'll make sure your death is painless and quick for you have done nothing but indulge my thirst to KILL and KILL YOU is what I shall do.

RewdWonder...
beware - this sneaky bitch has got bite.
watch your sweet, dry asses (especially the little one who shot me).
you're on.

oh HAI Agent Orange.

While you we out chatting on the phone with your target, I was hiding at the top of your stairwell, waiting patiently in the dark to maul you like a lion-- a SEA LION.

Your neighbors are all very nice.

I see that you are also safe at home tonight, but rest assured that I'll make sure your death is painless and quick for you have done nothing but indulge my thirst to KILL and KILL YOU is what I shall do.

The chinese Calculator is right, shut yer yaps and get to killing! Some of us superior teams have soaked multiple targets already while you sit at home in front of your laptops compensating for your lack of testicular fortitude!

Team Globix
-3 victims in 2 days-

Ah indeed, abacus is back too, hurrah!

I've kept hours so they couldn't achieve my earth leave.
I'll spray you down with a gun that shoots Summer's Eve.
I wet you with more than a few tricks up my sleeve,
but a simple little lie works the best to deceive, your soul I thieve-your wet sheet will grieve and beg for reprieve,
sayin' you thought ghosts were make-believe you be naive
Slayin' hipsters cuz they underachieve, the web I weave and conceive will result in Stephens title relieved

Last night the Jackal made lo-mein of his assassin.

Your mistakes were many my dumpling of death.
Luckily you will have the next twenty-four hours to contemplate where you went Wong.

Mistake #1- Location.

Waiting on my stoop was a bold move. Close proximity was assured, but did you really think I wouldn't pay close attention to every new face? Having your friend ready with an umbrella/shield may have been a good idea in theory, but it hadn't rained for hours and he was much too eager to open. That was my first clue I may be dealing with my assassin, an amateur at that.

Mistake #2- Preparedness.

This was your cardinal sin my teriyaki terrorist. You had the time to settle in front of my abode. Being a female, you could have inconspicuously hidden some serious firepower under a purse or coat. I myself had my fingers tightly grasped around the the trigger of the soaker hanging discreetly on my hip since the moment I entered the zip code. I kept my eye on you as I ascended my stairs. You caught my gaze, but you held it too long.

I leapt to position as you went for your gun. Yet, to paraphrase the late Biggie Smalls, wile yours was raising mine was blazing. My comrades sensed your moves and did their best at a distraction. I ducked behind my lobby door, my stream leaving you looking like you'd spent all day making Nikes, while the droplets from your piddling plastic pistol met harmlessly with the glass.

"I hit you" you screamed.

I held my gun to the door as a truce, ready to shed light on the actual results of our little dance. I stepped outside and all witnesses beheld what I already knew. I was as dry as a dead nuns vagina, while you looked like victim of a malnourished bukkake.

I would say that I'm looking forward to our next tete-a-tete, but if you are anywhere near as adept a target as you are an assassin, I imagine it will be someone else pouring over my dossier tomorrow.

In the meantime, I shall spend the next twenty-four hours no longer living in fear, while you spend yours dealing with shame.

A true assassin knows not what sleep is

A true assassin sleeps whilst propped on his dick, while Agent Disavowed sleeps with his dick in his ass, seemingly.

Frankie your still bitching
about shit from two years ago?
Sour grapes man.

Instead of writing shitty poetry where you spell things like Stevens wrong, you should be out hunting. This way you might actually make week three on your own, instead of needing a favor from the Shadow Government because you don't have enough kills.

@ Starz:
since he said he was unemployed but he has a job then his job isn't a safe point cause it isn't listed. That would be my interpetation but then again i'm a blood thristy one.

Its good to see the killing going down. I just hope no one is being bitch made and hiding out in their homes while whacking to substandard adult materials from Budapest.

She should not have been playing this game in the first place. She lied about her company being in the same apartment as her residence. She gave a deceiving body shot. Most of all she was not prepared for the caliber of Killer Greene Team. All we had to do after we found out she works in Manhattan every day and is a "big boned" woman, so you know she needs to leave to eat at some point, was wait outside her residence for her this morning. No problem spotting her as I had dozens of photos of her in that same white long-sleeve shirt off Flickr. After she walked by on what she thought was a normal looking street we were right there behind her, each side of the street covered. As soon as she turned the corner I caller her cell and closed the distance to the corner. As I casually walked right behind her she went to pick up her "ever so important" phone call which just confirmed our target and increasingly made Pinkoldlady distracted..... I closed the
last 5 feet low and quiet and quickly double-tapper her for the kill. She fired a retort after my kill, amusing. Time of death; 7:58am.

She should not have been playing this game in the first place. She lied about her company being in the same apartment as her residence. She gave a deceiving body shot. Most of all she was not prepared for the caliber of Killer Greene Team. All we had to do after we found out she works in Manhattan every day and is a "big boned" woman, so you know she needs to leave to eat at some point, was wait outside her residence for her this morning. No problem spotting her as I had dozens of photos of her in that same white long-sleeve shirt off Flickr. After she walked by on what she thought was a normal looking street we were right there behind her, each side of the street covered. As soon as she turned the corner I caller her cell and closed the distance to the corner. As I casually walked right behind her she went to pick up her "ever so important" phone call which just confirmed our target and increasingly made Pinkoldlady distracted..... I closed the
last 5 feet low and quiet and quickly double-tapper her for the kill. She fired a retort after my kill, amusing. Time of death; 7:58am.

I'm glad you clowns and imposters are having fun here while I'm out in the street keepin it real.

Besides, I like my stairwell, it's a nice place to hang out, I hope you enjoyed your stay.

Off to have some fruit salad and fried chicken, talk to you layer kids...

The cupcake commando is tired. His target is elusive. The cupcake commando will get his man. Then he will celebrate with many cupcakes (like, four) and copious amounts of tequila while dancing the mexican hat dance over his victim's body (which will be weird because his victim will only be wet and not dead, and probably not laying on the ground either).

Apparently, a fire has been set on the pit bulls ropes.

awwww. I kinda liked the little rhyming scheme by the hipster slayer. a bit of poetry gets points for style. though a word of advice - hope you don't get caught monologue-ing...

Gave up already? I'm talking to Goggles and Legz. Sorry, don't know your real names, but judging from your apparent noobness, I'm sure my asesina in training could've easily extracted the info from you. Well, tonight is another noche.

Yours in waiting ... El Matador

Ole!

C'mon Stephens,it wasn't a favor. It was due to the fact that my Marksman had confirmed bogus info on his file, and possibly more unconfirmed bogus info as well so their Bushido was in question. Also, I had the balls to actually show up to Bushwick Country Club as a living assassin and make my plea in person. So I got an extra week to make 2 kills, and made them pay. It looks like there are quite a few players this year with questionable honor as well. There is nothing more pathetic than someone who cheats at life. So, people who "accidentally put the wrong Apt. #" or are "unemployed yet have a job" or "didn't get shot when you watched the water splash on them" or are "working with an "accomplice" who isn't "actually" in the game" or who "are skinny in their picture, but are actually morbidly obese"or people who
"SHOOT"
"THEMSELVES"
"WITH"
"THEIR"
"OWN"
"GUN!!"
Are the most pathetic people of all as they are taking something that runs on integrity, like this sporting game which we are all ROLEPLAYING in Stephens, so I hope you don't take blog posts seriously,also I hope you don't own a real gun.

But they take this game that everyone is making a huge investment of time and resources to make work, to make fun, and they destroy it for someone by cheating. You people are scum who will fail to have any real accomplishments in your life and I hope you are called before the Shadow Government to be officially stripped of your honor, and then your clothes, your skin, your subcutaneous fat layer, your small muscles, and your bones until you are just a spot of cancerous marrow on the carpet of Lil' Abacus.
I want you cheaters to die. In real life. Seriously just die.
Stephens, you're OK. I was just busting your balls.
Everyone else, get hit by the L train.

Before I introduce myself to you with a stream of wet, let me introduce myself. I am Mr. Cee.

I'm currently working from home, which stands to reason why the following tale is even more unfortunate.

Last night the amateur(s) that are hunting me finally decided to make their presence known and zeroed in on my coordinates around 2200 hrs.

In the dark of the Long Island City night, and obviously operating in full-stealth mode, they rapped on front door of my building until someone opened it.

As the metal front door first cracked open, they jammed a gun into the opening and fired.

They offered up their guns completely blind, and engaged a "target" they did not see.

Behind the door was Mr. Landlord, who also owns the building. He got doused, and was not too happy about someone shoving a gun into his doorway.

Long story short, 5 minutes later, Mr. Landlord wound up chasing them down the block, waiving a broom handle. At one point in the fray, they asked if he was me, or if I was home.

My landlord, who isn't a bad dude, told me what happened, and that he almost "bashed" my friends. He knows that my true friends would have straight-up picked the front door lock, but he still thinks these guys are my peoples.

Those who came calling, I'm certain, will meet their moist fate in the passage of due time. But let their mistake be a reminder.

Be smart with this sh** everyone. StreetWars can be a great experience - and it's what we all make of it. Respect to all you suckas who are carrying yourselves like professionals.

And if you're ever unfortunate enough to have to try and find me - DO NOT knock on my front door. That ain't no joke.

Slayer-I owe you an apology for being a dick then. Things are sometimes taken the wrong way on the net, this was one of those times. You still have the same email @yahoo? Ill contact you there.

-Stevens

Our kill story was posted under comments on another blog before this blog was put up. Enjoy...

Day One. 10 p.m.

Another shit night in Shit City - er - Staten Island (it's what you were all thinking, let's admit it). We (Agent Zeb and Agent Coulion,) begin a stakeout like any other. Target One - We wait outside his house, staring at his red Shelby GT500 Mustang for a good hour before realizing that orange soda and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups will keep us going. We head one block west to the nearbyCVS drugstore. As we smoke some stress-relieving cancer sticks, things get interesting.

The oh-so-easily-recognizable mustang we had watched just minutes earlier had now turned into the CVS parking lot and proceeded to park in the same empty row that our black, tinted windowed vehicle occupied - enjoying a smoke through a cracked open window, completely oblivious to our presence.

It felt like hours watching our target sitting just feet away from us as we shook with adrenaline and ached to take action. But lo and behold he finally pulled away, and headed west down Arthur Kill Road. We flew around the next block to avoid suspicion before tailing him through yellow traffic lights and hard turns. Target One leads us on an 18 mile car chase lasting approximately 2 hours up, down, and around two major Staten Island highways. Target One caught on to us, quickly breaking on the shoulder to 'let us pass' only to catch up to us, giving us the grill down of a lifetime (hardly). He tried to give us the slip, taking a sneaky turn off an exit, but we're just too damn good for suchamateur moves. We continue southbound on 440 and watched our target race off the highway. We floor it to the next exit, pull into the service road gas station, reverse our vehicle against a fence in the guise of being 'just a parked car.' And we wait.

Mere seconds later the mustang soared past us, thinking he's in the clear. But, oh, how wrong he was. . .

Trailing a car or so behind to avoid his attention we twisted and turned around the back roads of the forgotten borough trying to keep up. After a sharp turn and three Sunday drivers slowing us down we began to lose hope, second guessing ourselves that the target high-tailed it down a side street and was making a clear get away. We took a sharp right turn but caught a glimpse of themustang through a row of trees heading in the opposite direction. Rather than pulling a 180 we continue full speed down a narrow road we assumed would lead us right behind our now escaping target. Tiresscreech as we come to what revealed itself to be the dead end of a community housing driveway, kick it in reverse backtracking down the driveway faster than we came in. Back on track a red light up ahead allows us to get right up his ass heading straight for the sameCVS . We anticipate his moves, cut across the familiar parking lot, cutting down the block before his and park our car just out of his line of sight as he pulls into his driveway.Zeb jumps from our car in an attempt to sneak up behind the target, but the King of Sting was no where near leaving his pretty little whip.Zeb returns to our car. It appears to be a stalemate until....an idea!
We pull up dead behind the mustang and stop, the front passengers staring directly into the red beauty. He thinks we're just fucking with him, but little does he know, Zeb is creeps out the back passenger door and takes cover behind a parked car directly across the street from the target. Our car speeds off, leaving Zeb to take out Target One on his own.

Parking around the block from the waiting game that is coming to a slow boil, a cigarette break is taken when it comes to our attention thatZeb had forgotten his cell in the back seat! Concerned and unaware of what's going down, we creep back around the block and park, send whistle signals and find out that we didn't miss any action. AgentCoulion watches from the back tinted windows through binoculars, sees the target emerge from his car thinking he was safe as Agent Zeb quickly dashes up behind him from across the street. Water streams over the mustang as the two circle and duck around it, each trying to take the other out.

Zeb: "I so got you."
Target One : "Yea you did."

The adrenaline is rushing through my veins today and do you know why??? I've killed my first target! I have to admit it was VERY easy. The poor boy basically set up his own death. The fact that you men think with your penis' just makes it easier for us women to hunt you down.
Arriving home from receiving my mission I immediately did something which would make my target believe a male was after him. After that I Googled his name and found that he practices Judo. If he hadn't posted on Judo Forums it wouldn't have helped me but he did and I located him within 10 min. I quickly joined this forum and put a picture(that I randomly stole off some one's MySpace) onto my profile so that this guys horniness would soon lead me to him. I saw where he trained and started a thread asking about the place, saying I just moved here....he fell right into it and even told me when he went. So we know 2 things thus far: 1. Where he trains. 2. He definitely thinks he's getting laid.
The next day he messages me on the forum asking if I want help finding a school and asking where I live. He even offers to meet me at the ferry and take me to a school. If I wasn't severely hung over from the prior night I would have def. met him in the city BUT why not just have him come to me???? And that is what I did. I asked him to meet me 1 block from my house at a karate school to try out a kick boxing class with me at 8pm......sure enough, I walk in, and he's just sitting there all alone...I just walk up to him, take my sorry ass tiny water gun out and shoot him. The funniest thing was the damn gun broke and all it did was mist him lightly. Being a good sport he agreed to walk to the bar and drink some Tequila with me and trade war stories of the game. I know that the secong target won't be that easy but if you guys keep thinking with your dicks...all us girls are gonna take you down!
Stay Dry My Friends
Assassin Lips McGhee

to the assassin who took out Cobra Kai and Fox. I have some valuable information for you. Please contact me. Doyouknowpeter@gmail.com