mincey fucking faggot balls

where does supreme live? how do we get this information?

the fruit with the golden gun should get himself another drink.

Props to FlipDog for popping the hammer, you're the man, was good hanging with you last night.

If any living assassins have balls were at pj leahys having some drinks. 50th and vernon right outside the 7.

No this is not a set up.

come and hang.

Everyone but Bobby can come...cause he's fucking lazy.

Bobby ask your mommy where Supreme lives she'll know.

Bobby ask your mommy where Supreme lives she'll know.

Funeral is tomorrow....

I fucking wish this info was available while I was still up there, don't worry supreme, stay dry until saturday and I'll fucking get you, I PROMISE!!!

There's nothing pussy about me (except I eat it)....

I'm starving right now, so I gotta go get some grub......

the ice_man in mourning......

Agentile axed one Frankie the Hipster Slayer one step from safety.

Frankie the Slayer of Hipsters, Frankie the Hipster Who Slays, whatever... He dead.

Ya played well. Respect for coming out to a bar full of rogues.

See ya Sunday.

FLipDog of the now disbanded Globix Corporation has eliminated The Hebrew Hammer.

This story starts two years ago in the last NYC game where the Hammer eliminated one over exposed Dr. Pickles, the appointed leader of the GlobEx corp, and took out our entire team about 2 weeks into the game. It was a crushing blow for such a promising young business venture, our greed and bloodlust went unsatiated!

Today FlipDog has rectified the matter and we bask in glorious corporate revenge!

The hammer's reputation for Paranoia and evil genius was well known, I had done my research, read Agent Oat's amazing kill story from the last game, spoken to Agent Orange who was hunting him last, scoped his building, heard the lore from Stevens himself, I knew this was not going to be easy, especially having my attention divided by the main prize of wetting supreme, plus all the whiskey I have for breakfast.

I'm not ashamed to admit that in the end I just got really really lucky!

Having gotten todays update from supreme about his work address and when he planned to leave, I headed down to the SOHO area for a little recon, and to try to figure out where he was going from work. Unfortunately I was spotted by Phire pretty quickly and thought the day was lost. At this point I decided to switch to hunting my secondary target, the hammer. I slowly walked the neighborhood looking for the elusive jewish tool to no avail. Getting a call from my ex-team mate Brock, I started up to meet him at a local bar to continue my all day breakfast...one block away from Supreme's office I see a short guy walk past me. I notice that his complexion matches my targets, and take a closer look to see that his beard and mustache color don't match his hair color, I then realize that this guy with a blond beard has crooked ass Jet black hair, totally a wig. At this point I'm walking 5 feet behind him gun out, finger on the trigger when he panics, goes for his pocket and starts turning around....He was wet before he made it 90 degrees! and then even wetter at 180. He def got a shot off, and was gonna contest the kill until I showed him his wet backside.

Hammer is a professional and conceded his defeat like a man, giving up his card, which brought Dr. Pickles an unbelievable amount of joy. Hammer told me that he had seen me about twenty min before his death, wearing a blond wig and walking with some friends, said I walked right by him. To this I said " well why the fuck didn't you neutralize me!?" Something he will probably be asking himself till next June.

FlipDog

Six AM. Im on a bus.

Lets all have a laugh cause I went to sleep at two.

To the rookie who fired from a moving car, you should have come back. I would have gladly shown you how to shoot straight. You obviously need the help.

Slowly the sun begins its accent in the east, its quite pretty actually. If your among the unfortunate who are awake now take a peek.

And a new day begins..the final day?

Oh stevens i forgot to text you this morning.
here's a sample from the 5 am text
"ha ha"

Private email from Carl:

"Oh, Out gunned and I should make a suicidal charge? You walked right in front of my car at 50th St. Subway crossing the street to meet the other "homeboys". I recognized many of Supreme's homeboys outside the bar. ALL of my teammates were either sick or AWOL or in "vocal classes". On a side note, you looked nice. Was that a long sweater?
Looking forward to putting a cap in your ass."

No honey, not a suicidal charge, but an appearance at least, not mere surveillance. And WHAT TEAM MATES?!! You should have capped their asses already. Mine you cannot afford.

I could have sworn the team concept was buried several days ago...props to Globix for figuring that out, even if Medusa can't shoot straight.

Remember that time that all the remaining players sucked and totally lost supreme and then drove around LIC shooting at people with no real aim or direction?

That was fun