Dinhternet

One of the things I miss about Assas­sins is the elab­o­rate obit­u­ar­ies that God would make up for each kill. They would get posted on a blog of some sort for every­one to fol­low, and it was a lot of fun, even when you weren’t play­ing the game. It was par­tic­u­larly hilar­i­ous if you knew how a kill actu­ally went down and com­pared it with the grandios­ity of the obituary.

But yeah, my pri­or­ity this time was to get the game over as quickly as pos­si­ble, so I was wor­ried about mak­ing up 20 kill sto­ries in one night. Instead, I asked peo­ple to send in their own kill sto­ries for a chance at a prize. Here are those stories:

Show Green Crossbow ▼

Show Tran­quil Claw ▼

Show Deadly Crotch ▼

Show Deadly Chrysanthemum ▼

Hope you all enjoyed! To the next God of Assas­sins, if you have the time for a slower game, def­i­nitely do obit­u­ar­ies, they make it a lot more enter­tain­ing for every­one.

Please visit my Assas­sins album on Face­book and vote for your favorite weapon. All prizes will be dis­trib­uted tonight at the CAPS meeting.

Obvi­ously, if every pledge runs for office like I want, there’s going to be a lot of com­pe­ti­tion. Don’t worry, that’s a good thing!

If you run for a con­tested office, you prob­a­bly really want it, and you’re not run­ning for it just because it’s open. After all, you’ll have to do at least some prepa­ra­tion and have a speech ready and all that. This means you’ll be more invested in the posi­tion, do a bet­ter job, and (most impor­tantly for you) enjoy it more! These same fac­tors mean it will be bet­ter for the chap­ter as a whole, too.

Also, some actives hate elec­tion speeches, but I love them. They show your focus and goals for the posi­tion. Some­times, great new ideas come out dur­ing elec­tion speeches. Even if you run and don’t win, your ideas could be adopted by the ones voted into office, so in a way, you are still accom­plish­ing those goals.

Finally, even if you do lose the elec­tion, just run­ning sets you up in a strong posi­tion to join the com­mit­tee of the office you ran for. Com­mit­tee credit is a require­ment to cross, and you’ll already be contributing!

I know that giv­ing a speech in front of the chap­ter can be intim­i­dat­ing. I know plenty of multi-term ExCom­mers who are still uncom­fort­able at the front of the room, myself included. But remem­ber, we are all here with a com­mon pur­pose, and every­one wants you to do well. You can ask old actives about how I screwed up the open­ing rit­ual every week when I was Pres­i­dent. (Seri­ously… not once did I get it right. It’s a pretty sim­ple line, too.) But I still went up and talked at every meet­ing, because I knew we had impor­tant things to get done.

Now that I’ve hope­fully con­vinced you to run, let me give you a tip about your speech — please DO NOT do this:

(From Tooth­paste For Din­ner.)

Dur­ing my Plex­Comm elec­tions, a pair of can­di­dates threw lol­lipops into the audi­ence. Some­one got poked in the eye. Need­less to say, that pair did not win.

Wow, I got a lot of hits yes­ter­day. Maybe I should post links within notes on Face­book more often.

Any­way, here’s one of the “lost” sto­ries I was going to link to in my 25 Things post…

I’m gen­er­ally a hor­ri­ble liar. I tend to have a hard time con­trol my facial expres­sions (that research was the basis for a new show that’s pretty good), which always give me away.

How­ever, when I was on a home stay in Japan, my host’s class played a game where we were split into teams and a per­son from each team had to eat one of three iden­ti­cal look­ing pieces of sushi/onigiri. The fill­ing of two of them would be nor­mal, but the fill­ing on the final one would be a big chunk of some­thing “spe­cial” like natto or wasabi. Turns out I was pretty good at that for some rea­son, and my team won the game.

Flash for­ward to the “Sum­mer of Toy.” It was sum­mer break after Toy class had crossed, and Joe M, Eddie C, and I were drink­ing every night. The game plan was basi­cally that we would alter­nate nights between Joe M’s place and ours, and call up every­one we could think of each night. Since we were drink­ing every night, we couldn’t afford new alco­hol every night, so every so often, we would have a “Scraps Night” where we just try­ing to fin­ish all the rem­nant han­dles we had lying around.

One Scraps Night, it was towards the end of the night, and we had killed every­thing we had left play­ing 7–11-Double. (That game nights the alco­hol go fast!) We had absolutely noth­ing left except for Bac­ardi 151. No one, of course, wanted to do (poten­tially back-to-back on end) shots of 151, so we looked around for mix­ers. Unfor­tu­nately, we were basi­cally out of all non-alcoholic drinks, too. Joe M sac­ri­ficed some of his work­out Gatorade for the cause.

I for­got who was rolling, but I got picked to drink the mix of 151 and orange Gatorade. It was, of course, not the great­est feel­ing in the world. Every­one in the room was watch­ing, and I would like to think that I kept a straight face. I want to think that I had every­one fooled. Until some­one asked how it tasted. I tried to say, “It’s great,” but my voice cracked.

… then every­one knew. Except maybe Clay­ton L. He wanted to go next.