Five years earlier...

In the once idyllic town of Nothing Bad Ever Happens Here (Notbad, for short)...

WHOOOOOOOSH

"I knew you'd come." Mrs. Johnson's voice boomed over the rain.

"Three hundred and sixty-eight years. Three hundred, and sixty-eight. I've been waiting for you to return. You're not...you're not some mafia. You're a disease. An idea. The very essence of what was actually bad within the saccharine soul of this quaint town of Nothing Bad Ever Happens Here. I've seen this happen a thousand times. And I'll see it a thousand times again. You...you killed countless citizens. Nineteen, if we're keeping count! TWENTY if you're counting Jonesy, and who in the blue fuck wouldn't! But this is nothing new. We're bound to repeat this cycle, over...and over...again. Up until the final tolling of the infinity bell, we will repeat this. You haven't won. This isn't the end. Nothing ever ends." her voice rang out, somehow incredibly loud and clear over the gusting wind. Mrs. Johnson's body began to twist and contort until it imploded completely, leaving nothing but an empty dress behind.

Present day...

The town was since rebranded to Something Bad Once Happened Here (Somebad, for short)...

The mafia now rule these streets.

"Ayyyy! Get a load of this guy!" Jimmy Spits jeered at the man seated at the bar, minding his own business and sipping down his Irish coffee.

A chorus of hearty chuckles from Jimmy's cronies boomed from the booth he was seated at. "HEY buddy you gonna give me a taste??" one of them called out.

The man continued to sip down his coffee, ignoring the inquiry. Jimmy sprung from his seat and sidled up next to the man.

"Ayyy...my friend asked you a question..." Jimmy blurted into his ear. "You hard of hearin or somethin'??"

"C'mon Jimmy, would you leave poor Bertie alone?? He's had a long day...he just lost his job, and, and his wife, and his..."

"Ayyy! Shove it, Martha! Let Bertie speak for himself now! Besides, I didn't ask for his life fuckin' story. All we's askin' for is a sip of his..."

*click*

"Is this man bothering you?" a gravelly voice growled out. Jimmy suddenly felt the cold sensation of a Colt .45 pressed against his temple.

"Listen I--" Jimmy whimpered, before getting cold cocked with the revolver and sent careening to the floor. The mysterious figure aimed the barrel back at Jimmy's head and repeated his question to Bertie.

"I...I mean I guess he..."

"Good enough for me."

BANG

The small amount of brains in Jimmy's cranium splattered all over Martha's bar floor.

"OH...MY...GOD!!" she screamed out.

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG

She hesitantly opened her eyes back up to see a cloud of smoke rising from the booth that Jimmy was just at. A throng of identical, cloaked figures calmly watched Jimmy's cronies draw their final breaths.

Martha shakily addressed the main cloaked figure.

"I...I don't know what to say. Those...monsters...have terrorized this town for years now. Y'know, this may have been an extreme measure but, I think it's what needed to--"

BANG

Martha opened her eyes once more to see a steady stream of blood leaking from Bertie's forehead. His large, grizzled head slumped down onto the bar and shattered his mug of Irish coffee, his blood swirling with its contents to create a fine pink cream.

"BERTIE!!!!! You...you...ANIMALS! HOW COULD YOU!"

Martha couldn't see the perpretators' faces, but one could sense a sly grin emanating from beneath each of their visages.

"Keep the change..." they all said in unison as they dumped the shell casings from their massacre on the bar and strode out of the establishment.

As a warbled version of Moonlight Sonata came from Martha's Nothing But The Classics jukebox (which had been struck by a wayward bullet), she narrowed her eyes and gazed out into the distance. It was if she was looking past the figures leaving, and was instead somehow seeing the entire town at once.

"It was...only a matter of time I suppose. Round and round we go, like a vinyl in the coffee shop Bertie got laid off from today. Evil didn't die with Jimmy Spits, it simply took on a new form. And I hope to GOD the denizens of Somebad have what it takes to snuff it out this time. Otherwise this town may just...well...let's hope that never comes to pass. All I know is..."

The jukebox suddenly skipped to the next song, Intergalactic by the Beastie Boys.

"The mafia. Is. Back. Again."

And with that, Martha Johnson turned her "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED" and began boarding up the windows. The long night had only just begun.

It is now Day 1. The day will end tomorrow at 7pm CST or when a lynch majority has been achieved. With 19 alive, you will need 10 to reach majority. Otherwise, the leading votegetter will be lynched.

Spin (2) - JJ, Reaper
Rodney (2) - Kat, Lamps
Curtis (2) - Nav, Ahoda
Reaper (1) - Herm
Lamps (1) - Rodney
Maddie (1) - Farlig
Farlig (1) - Maddie
Ahoda (1) - Spin
Nav (1) - Curtis
Badger (0) - Lamps
Kat (0) - Farlig

28 mins left!

final vote count
Spin (4) - JJ, Reaper, Rodney, Curtis
Rodney (3) - Kat, Lamps, TIB, Jamie
Farlig (3) - Maddie, Ahoda, Jamie
Curtis (1) - Nav, Ahoda
Reaper (1) - Herm
Maddie (1) - Farlig
Ahoda (1) - Spin
Nav (0) - Curtis
Badger (0) - Lamps
Kat (0) - Farlig
Lamps (0) - Rodney

A collective amnesia seemed to have befallen the citizens of Somebad. They had encountered the horrors of the mafia before but they just couldn't quite place their finger on how they were supposed to respond.

"Clue? Clue?! Has anyone found a clue!"

"It's simple, we kill the Curtis. C'mon, it's tradition!"

"I forgot why I'm even here!"

"I will lynch the next sonofabitch who says they forgot how this is done." JJ declared.

Spin strode into the town square with a hat full of little slips of paper. Determinedly, he shook it up and drew one of them.

"Ahoda it is!" he said excitedly as he held out the name for all to see.

"Good enough for me." JJ sussed away as she took Spin's legs out from under him. Reaper leapt to join the fracas as he helped pin him down, though it was hardly needed considering how accepting of the situation he was.

"Meh. I’m on my way to a work dinner, so no riling for me." said Spin, who would clearly be doing no such thing anytime soon as Curtis and Rodney gleefully joined in to take turns beating the life out of him.

Spoiler

+

Spin, TOWN (Brunton Compass), has been lynched. Your compass has the hidden potential to point towards scum. Wow! However, first, you must tune it. Each night, you can PM me a range of 15 posts (e.g. Posts #100 - 115). If there is at least one scum in these posts, this will contribute towards your tuning. You must successfully tune twice before you can fully use your compass. I will not confirm/deny until you are fully tuned. Once activated, when you PM me a range of 15 posts, I will send you back a range of 3 posts that contains at least one scum.

It is now Night 1. Night will end tomorrow at 6pm CST.