All 14 entries tagged Stupidity
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January 29, 2007
In a complete reversal of last time, I died just 7 short hours into the first Assassins’ Guild game of the term.
The plan was to kill the guy outside his lecture with my poisonous spider. The spider should have been attached to me by a string of web, in case I were to miss. However, my spider apparently decided to betray me, and when it flew through the air where my target no longer was, it took the string with it.
I panicked and ran for the door, but there were too many people about, and as I was trying to wade through them, he stabbed me in the back.
I wonder if I can bribe the umpire to make everyone Wanted…
November 17, 2006
I’m going to seriously regret this come Monday morning…
November 08, 2006
Day 4 (continued):
I know that one of my targets is in the Tocil bible study group, due to information from James. I can also find on the CU website some information about when and where that group meets. So I get there 10 minutes before the specified time, and wait in the cold. After about 20 minutes, I decided the information on the website is probably out of date.
Meanwhile, if my understanding of things is correct, another assassin has found the correct place, and infiltrated the meeting. Or possibly a party after the meeting. She chats to the target for the evening, and only when they are leaving does she get her pet stegosaurus out to kill him. Even when he sees it, he doesn’t realise he’s moments away from death. It’s a brilliant story, so I don’t regret not finding him earlier.
I have two targets. One is a girl living in Leamington without any decent pictures available. One is a guy I know from the short game, who will recognise me. Neither are promising, but then when I mention my dilemma to James Williams, he says that it’s just possible that the first target is currently going out with his flatmate. I am happy, and ask him to try getting some photos of her to me.
With James Silver, I hatch a plan to get my other target, in case that falls through. We get into his accomodation, and leave James’ bag in the corridor. James will knock on the target’s door and ask him if it’s his bag. I will shoot him as this happens. Unfortunately, he’s not in his room. There’s someone in the kitchen that might be him, but I don’t want his flatmates to be able to describe me if it’s not, so I decide not to do anything.
I don’t get the email of target 2’s pictures in time to wait outside her last lecture, and I don’t see her at the bus stop. The likelihood is that she’s already halfway home, so I decide to wait until Monday to make an attempt on her. Unfortunately, this leaves me in danger of not continuing my kill per day, and that just isn’t acceptable. I throw caution to the wind and make another attempt on the guy who knows what I look like.
It turns out that bursting into his room firing works a lot better than any elaborate deception would have, and I get my kill for the day. I also find out that my other target made an attempt on him earlier, and he gunned her down, making the sneakily acquired photos totally useless.
The competency deadline of five days has been reached, and five of the remaining eight players are wanted. On the way to the short game, I stop by on two of them living on the same corridor, but neither of them are in. Only seven people turn up to the short game, so it’s not too eventful. The guy with the super-soaker wins both games where ranged weapons were allowed. We try a melee weapon only game, in which I’m allowed to use my spider hanging from a strand of web (piece of string) attached. Unfortunately, it falls off at a vital moment, leaving me undefended. At some point, I lose my dagger.
Afterwards, a bunch of us go back to the two wanted people living on campus, but the person who answers the door doesn’t let us in. Maybe we should have gone with a different tactic to “Hi, we’re here to assassinate some people.” I’m left without a kill, so decide to take the weekend off, and make it a kill every weekday.
I fail to find my dagger, but I do find some foam darts from someone’s gun lying around where we were playing. I pick them up so I can return them at a later date.
At the end of a lecture, I feel someone hit me over the head with a newspaper. Since lecture rooms are a no-kill zone, this was a significant error on my would-be-assassin’s part. We leave the room and then the building, eyeing each other suspiciously. At one point, I lost track of her, and became extremely worried for a few seconds that she was going to suddenly appear behind me. Then I realised that she’d just cut through the library. Hiding around the corner from there, I waited in ambush for her, and a couple of minutes later she followed. She saw my gun and started running, but I shot her before she could get away.
There’s a corrupt inquisitor running around, and I decide to try to take him out. I get to one of his lectures after everyone’s gone in, and spend an hour talking to James Silver, James Wright and some other people, mostly about the Assassins’ Guild. I don’t see him leaving, either. After an hour in DCS, I finally find him leaving a second lecture. I stab him with my extensible dagger (aerial), but at the same time, he stabs me with a knife. I’m sure that due to my longer reach and with the element of suprise, I must have gotten him first, but I can’t convince him of this. He suggests just ignoring the incident, and after considering it for a bit, I agree.
Later on, I went for another wanted player. I wasn’t expecting to get very far, because his accomodation looked harder to get into than most. But I got lucky, and got to his door. The conversation went something like this:
“Who is it?”
“It’s Bill.” I mentally kick myself in the head for being so stupid. The pseudonym I’ve been using in the game is Agent Bill – everyone playing the game knows that name well.
“Bill.” Too late to change the name now; I might as well run with it.
“Is it Agent Bill?”
“It’s Bill, we met in the union the other day.”
He opens the door cautiously. I shoot him.
I make plans to kill the corrupt inquisitor again, but some inquisitors team up and get him first.
I phone up the player with no facebook and an address that doesn’t exist. I claim to be David (I do learn from my mistakes) from one of his Management seminars, but I doubt he believed the story. I was waiting outside a lecture he was likely to be in, but couldn’t keep him on the phone for long enough to find him like that.
I go to DCS, where I find that I’m now on the wanted list for withholding information. I practically skip home in happiness. I come up with a brilliant plan for killing an inquisitor (if I’m on the wanted list, then why not?). I pick up the foam darts from the short game and head off to return them to their owner. I know that he doesn’t check his emails very often, so he wouldn’t know that I’m wanted, and the darts gave me a valid excuse for being there. If possible, I wanted to ask him how the darts were loaded into the gun, get hold of it, and shoot him with that.
It was the perfect plan. Maybe even too perfect. One explanation of what happened next is that I was so distracted by the knowledge that I was about to pull off the perfect plan, that I didn’t have any time to actually think about what I was doing. If I had, I might not have pulled out a gun and shot him while he was still pointing his gun at me.
Once again, I was part of a double kill, but this time the other guy wasn’t suggesting we ignore it. Damn karma.
September 29, 2006
August 20, 2006
So, my update–once–a–week plan lasted 3 weeks, followed by 6 weeks of not doing so. In that time, I have done little. Certainly, there is no reason I could not have worked through my "stupid crap to eventually write about" list (currently containing 6 items).
What went wrong?
For starters, I picked myself to implement this update plan. A rookie mistake, really – don't rely on anyone who couldn't motivate his way out of a paper bag.
Additionally, I have just enough distractions to get me through any given day without having to do anything important or even interesting.
And thirdly, everything I have to write about is either uninteresting or outdated (or probably both).
What to do now?
Plan A: Stop writing anything. The uninteresting stuff remains uninteresting and the outdated stuff becomes outdated to the point of uninterestingness. This solves everything, but I remain incapable of remembering anything from further in the past than a couple of months. My memories of university become a mushy green goo smelling vaguely of peanuts.
Plan B: Train myself to update every day by whipping myself for every day that is missed. Problem: I don't think I'm physically capable of whipping myself without dislocating my shoulder. I'd have to build some kind of robot whipping machine, and I'd just end up delaying that as well.
Plan C: Write some kind of wacky Perl script that would update for me. Geekiness levels would rise and relevance levels would fall, but other than that, a good enough script could be indistinguishable from the real me. Problem: I'd have to tread a thin line between making something that sounds like me and making something that becomes sentient and tries to kill me.
Plan D: Continue trying and failing to update regularly with interesting and amusing posts about my life. Only update sporadically, when the peanut smell gets too strong.
June 20, 2006
May 07, 2006
Jack Bauer storms into the building, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He takes down hostile after hostile with pinpoint accuracy.
Without even noticing it, my attention moves away from the TV. My eyes don't close, but I fail to take in anything of the ongoing excitement. It drifts away into nothingness, and my body starts to shut down for the night. I'm falling asleep in front of the TV – a regular occurence, I'm sure. But for me, this lapse could be fatal.
The peaceful nothingness fades to burning heat. My body is slowly engulfed in pain, moving from my arms to my chest to my face. My skin turns bright red, and I moan the only cry I'm able to. Someone rushes to my side, but by this point, I'm oblivious to everything but the pain. They were probably too late.
The scientists told me I have melatonin anaphylaxis. I just tell people I'm allergic to sleep. It's treatable of course, or at least it usually is. My case is unique, the doctors say. Unique enough to kill me.