GGoats ThWWee: Here It GGoats Again - GAME THREAD

This forum made possible through the generous support of SDN members, donors, and sponsors. Thank you.
Unyeet MKG

Yeet Clem
 
But MKg is a hit ISTG
 
Then bring it up with more than 10 minutes to go so we can all talk about it?!
Your push on Fruit felt very manufactured to be completely honest
 
no you really need to explain why i shouldn't smother you with a sticker tonight.
genny genny genny genny genny genny genny

MKG is in her wolf meta. It’s just not village!MKG.

She’s provided zero content or analysis resembling game solving.

She’s floating. She’s been floating. It’s not real.
 
zenge you came in with 20 minutes to go, made a random vote, tried to get everyone on the wagon, would not ellaborate further than "she isnt right!" and thought that was appropriate.

respectfully, let me know why we shouldnt look into you? in a town!zenge world, you would do the same thing for anyone else
 
zenge you came in with 20 minutes to go, made a random vote, tried to get everyone on the wagon, would not ellaborate further than "she isnt right!" and thought that was appropriate.

respectfully, let me know why we shouldnt look into you? in a town!zenge world, you would do the same thing for anyone else
I understand.

Respectfully though. I don’t think MKG is village. I get that she shot PSV. It buys a lot of village credit.

I implore you to read her posts and tell me with a straight face she’s analyzing the game and trying to solve
 
are you a cult????
No. 😔

If I was I definitely would have recruited MKG by now. Mayoral powers, with the village credit for shooting a wolf? Yes pls. Welcome to Skeleton Grove!
 
I understand.

Respectfully though. I don’t think MKG is village. I get that she shot PSV. It buys a lot of village credit.

I implore you to read her posts and tell me with a straight face she’s analyzing the game and trying to solve
i will humor you and look deeper into it
 
It’s not like I’ve been sitting on this and waiting for the opportune moment

harry potter book GIF
 
dubz and vampy?
Are you asking a serious question?

You think I’m a cult leader and I just tried to flash wagon MayorKG, in a game where no one is concerned about a cult, and I’d be trying to fly under the radar?
 
dubz and vampy?
Please
Please stop
I am just me, all by myself, he literally just almost got me killed with this outburst, please stop pairing me with people when it is clear no one actually cares that much if I die
 
IM JUST DUBZ! ANYWHERE ELSE ID BE A TOWN! IS IT MY DESTINY TO LIVE AND DIE A LIFE OF FALSE SCUMHOOD? IM JUST DUBZ! WHERE I SEE SCUM THEY SEE THEIR FRIENDS! WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR THEM TO SEE THE TOWN I SHOW ON SCREEN AND FIGHT FOR MEEEEE
 
Zenge,
I don’t know what just happened. Your actions, regardless of who you’re trying to yeet, were not village. If your village, and have a village read on Dubz, idk how that was a good idea. So the only conclusion I can make is that you’re not village. You’ve been around this cycle, the level of chaos and confusion in the last 10 minutes of the cycle only benefit scum. You slid down my reads list today and idk, now I need to figure out if you fit in my POE as a wolf or 3p.
 
Goatapalooza - Day 3

The sun rose sullenly on the third day of Goatapalooza, casting a gray haze over the historically jubilant meadows of Gruffendale. Normally by now, the festival grounds would echo with cheerful bleats, experimental banjo solos, and the thunderous clatter of hooves dancing to obscure folk-fusion acts. But not today.

Not after the murder.

Baroness Twinklehorn III had been found the night before - lifeless, curled like a question mark at the bottom of the cider trough behind the hay bale stage. Her silk neckerchief, embroidered with gold thread and heirloom clover blossoms, was missing. The cider was stained with something darker than apples.

Whispers turned to murmurs. Murmurs to gasps. And now, as the morning mist clung to the grass like regret, suspicion curled like smoke through the horns and hearts of Gruffendale's most celebrated goats.

Among them stood a quiet figure - stoic, shadowed, and unnamed. Her coat bore the rough curls of the northern highlands, and her eyes were the color of peat bogs and secrets. She'd come alone to Goatapalooza, and since Baroness Twinklehorn's death, she'd spoken hardly a word.


She was the enigmatic Madame Noodlebark Featherflop.

She arrived that morning in a dramatic swirl of violet velvet and silver bells. Her hooves tapped the cobblestones in perfect iambic pentameter, her eyes hidden behind spectacles far too large for her face. She was a mystery, wrapped in taffeta and veils, rumored to be descended from a line of screaming cheese-makers.

She sniffed the air and said only, “Justice has a flavor. And it is...nutty.”

That was all.

Despite her poise, the votes from the council of Gruffendale went back and forth between her and one other goat. “I’M INNOCENT!” he cried. “I WAS AT THE JAM TENT! I WAS EATING FIGS AND BEATBOXING! YOU ALL SAW ME!”

But suspicions stuck to him like burrs. He sweated nervously into his jam-stained vest. Madame Noodlebark simply raised an eyebrow. “Figs. Curious,” she said.



By afternoon, the festival tried to move on. The smaller stage opened for what was supposed to be a lively interlude: a niche performance by The Irish Brigade, a band of underground folk goats known for politically-charged bleats and goated harmonies.

Madame Noodlebark’s veil fluttered with excitement. “Oh!” she whispered, as if someone had told her a secret about the sky. “They’re playing that song…”

The crowd hushed as the band began:
“And it’s up the rocky hillside,
Through the fog and rain and sleet,
There’s a terror in a wool coat—
My little mountain goat...”​

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “That line,” she whispered. “It always makes me think of my cousin. He once knocked over a bakery in County Bleat.”

But just as the song ended and hooves began stomping in applause, a commotion burst forth from the northern pasture. A young goat, barely more than a kid, clambered atop a hay bale.

“I KNOW WHO DID IT!” she shouted, her voice high and clear. “It wasn’t Gary! And it wasn’t Madame Noodlebark either! IT WAS BAD NOOZ!”

The crowd froze.

She spun in a circle, pointing toward a goat in the back - the supposed hero who claimed the shot that took Lady Fluffernuzzle's cursed life. “HE’S BAD NOOZ!” she yelled. “He’s the one who poisoned her clover! He was behind it then, and he’s behind this now!”

The accused blinked. Then shrugged. There was always one nutter in a crowd, wasn't there. He nibbled a daisy and wandered away, unperturbed.

No one listened to the young goat. Her cries were drowned by the announcement of the evening's dance lineup. "Must be bedtime," the elders agreed.

As twilight bled into night, the crowd gathered for the final vote beneath the Lantern Tree, where truth was supposed to shine brightest. Despite Junebug’s frantic warnings, despite the many noisy protestations, and despite the stillness of the unnamed goat watching from the hilltop, the villagers had made their choice.

By a narrow margin, and with a final, tearful bleat from Elder Thistlechin, Madame Noodlebark Featherflop was voted out of Goatapalooza.

She stood tall, her veil fluttering in the evening breeze, bells chiming softly as she gave a gracious nod. “The notes were discordant from the beginning,” she said, voice smooth as churned butter. “But mark this, Gruffendale: the wrong melody always returns to the chorus.”

Then she turned and walked into the mist, her silhouette dissolving like fog on warm stone.


Behind her, the festival awkwardly resumed. Somewhere in the dark, the young goat sobbed, and an unnamed goat stared coldly into the gathering shadows.

And far beyond the firelight, a feeling of Bad Nooz chilled the air.
Goatapalooza was not over.

But Madame Noodlebark was.

Dead is...
1750210781712.png

@Clem J, Madame Noodlebark Featherflop, and a...
vanilla villager

You are Madame Noodlebark Featherflop. Your hobbies include interpretive sneezing, spoon collecting, and arguing with your reflection about politics.
 
9 players remain.

1.) @Zenge142
2.) @genny
3.) @mkg323
6.) @vampyrica
7.) @WildZoo
11.) @GreedyBanger
13.) @beans2020
14.) @Sakuraaa --> @Animal Midwife
15.) @Lissarae06

Out to Pasture:
9.) @fruitsalad, Muffinwump the Slightly Moist, vanilla villager
10.) @KayJayQueue, General Hoofinstein McScuttle, vanilla villager
5.) @potentialsheltervet, Lady Fluffernuzzle von Maaahstein, vanilla villager converted to wolf
8.) @madrigal01, Count Dinglefluff O'Bleep, vanilla villager
12.) @ClinicalABA --> @samac, Baroness Twinklehorn III, vanilla villager
4.) @Clem J, Madame Noodlebark Featherflop, vanilla villager

Subs:
we're out of subs, so no one else need one pls

Tots:
@JaggedJimmyJay
@kaydubs
@Dinashadow
@Barkley13
@oliversacks4thewin
@chicandtoughness

It is now Night 3. Night closes on 6/18 at 9 PM EDT (10 PM Mermaidland/8 PM CDT/6 PM PDT).
 
the level of chaos and confusion in the last 10 minutes of the cycle only benefit scum.
No one. Literally no one. Followed me onto your vote.

Let’s not overstate the “confusion and chaos” of the moment.
 
Top