GGoats ThWWee: Here It GGoats Again - GAME THREAD

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vampyrica said:
we still have time to win! we can do this. 7 players, scum is still overpowered if it’s 5 town to 2 scum!
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Night 4 Kill = 6 players.

Day 5 Misyeet me = 5 players

Night 5 Kill = 4 Players = Parity.

Wolves win.

It's over.
 
WildZoo said:
Idk guess I'll **** off and stop trying to resolve the Zenge issue then, pretty neat to have this happen two days in a row, pretty goddamn neat
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Ok so I went to my parents’ place which means I’m really dedicated to this game if you know anything about my parents.

Wolf team is vampy and beans, Zenge is 3p at best. But I’ll resolve that tonight when i burn him with the lighter.
 
genny said:
Ok so I went to my parents’ place which means I’m really dedicated to this game if you know anything about my parents.

Wolf team is vampy and beans, Zenge is 3p at best. But I’ll resolve that tonight when i burn him with the lighter.
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because i’ve been nice to beans that automatically means i’m paired with her? so wrong
 
genny said:
Ok so I went to my parents’ place which means I’m really dedicated to this game if you know anything about my parents.

Wolf team is vampy and beans, Zenge is 3p at best. But I’ll resolve that tonight when i burn him with the lighter.
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Hi genny what
 
Goatapalooza - Night 4

The fourth night of Goatapalooza had always been rumored to be the strangest. Gruffendale's moon hung low like an overripe fruit, casting copper light across the scrubby hills and jittering over the stage where beats thumped like hooves on hollow log. It was during House of Pain’s set that things began to unravel.

Their latest number had the goats in a frenzy, bopping along to the lyrics that pulsed through the sound system:
​
Pack it up, pack it in, let me bleat again
I came to win, bring the sin, drop a hoofie grin
I won't tear out your thatch, no slack, no flinchin’
Duck fell off a string? Spa time intervention!
Jump up, jump up, and goat down!
Jump up, jump up, and goat down!​
Click to expand...

And somewhere in the back rows, behind the hay bale barricades and blinking cornstalk lights, stood Admiral Bumblesnuff T. Gritlegums. Wrapped in her weathered military cape, patched with coupons and stickers from distant co-ops, she watched.

Admiral Bumblesnuff was a legend in Gruffendale. Not just for her tin can canoes that could slice silently through river weeds, or her infamous moon-sticker traps that had once foiled a cider heist. She was also the only one who’d seen the truth about General Hoofinstein McScuttle’s murder. She’d spotted the twisted fibers in the killer’s wool, traced their shadow through the pepper stalls and lavender baths. Her testimony had led to a banishment that still echoed in whispered bleats to this day.

But tonight, her eyes were heavy. Not from age, no. From something deeper. Something tangled.

That night, the maaarket featured bizarre choices of concertgoers. Given the options for items galore, a significant number of goats - scores, even - had chosen the option of red paint. They'd trotted off, triumphant, only to discover later that the paint neither glowed, nor stuck, nor impressed a single goat. It was dry, and useless. It painted nothing.

No one was sure what they'd meant to do with it, but they were sure they'd been ripped off. And they felt strongly that the buyer was always right.

The joke was on them, because none of them spent any money to begin with.


Even as the concert rolled on and the crowd chanted, “Jump up, jump up, and goat down!”, the Admiral remained still, eyes scanning. She felt it: the pulse of unease behind the bassline. She could sense the convergence of bad decisions.

Her dream - oh, her dream. The spa for ducks who’d fallen off their string. Ducks who’d known structure, purpose, only to unspool and unravel. She’d imagined cedarwood saunas. Tiny pebbled footpaths. A pond that sang back. It would have been beautiful.

But she wouldn't live to see it.

Some said she slipped backstage for a nap, others that she wandered into the maze of overturned cider kegs. The screams began, horror at what they'd found, and in one goat's case, horror at her beautiful gown that appeared to be on fire - and the music cut.

They found her near the henna tent, her body cold. Her famed sticker pouch emptied, tin whistle snapped. Her eyes open.

No one spoke. Not at first. The goats gathered slowly, a circle of silence forming like frost.

Some began to mumble. “Vote,” someone said. “We must vote again.”

But no.

This time the elder nanny raised her voice, hoarse and cracked:
“If we vote out another villager tonight, all will be lost to Bad Nooz.”

And every goat fell silent.

Dead is...
@genny, Admiral Bumblesnuff T. Gritlegums, and a...
vanilla villager
You are Admiral Bumblesnuff T. Gritlegums. You once captained a canoe made of recycled tin cans and dream of opening a spa for stressed-out ducks (being off the string is very distressing).
 
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it basically cock blocked whatever dubz wanted to do and anyone who wanted to act on her, i thought it was just going to protect her…. note to self: keep picking useless items
 
vampyrica said:
i wanted to make sure dubz stayed alive bc i found her really helpful
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1750469702779.gif
 
It's okay Dubz this means she mustn't have read the ATE you left for the wolves no no she wouldn't say these words if she'd read you begging for death that would just be too much hmmyes everything is okay
 
Y'all maybe I'm spiraling a bit but here's where we are
I don't think its mkg or lissa for reasons previously discussed
That tube stunt between vampy and dubz leads me to think neither is a wolf
That leaves zenge who is adamant we would be misyeeting him and lose the game. Even if it is zenge idek who he'd be paired with
And if we misyeet today we lose the game
I don't know whaaaaaaaaaaaat to dooooooooooooo
 
so its me, mkg, lissa, beans, dubz and zenge left..

what the helly
 
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