Mafia 65: Dreamland II [Hidden]

[brainbomb]

Brainbomb gets a free Captain Crunch lunchbox if he votes for everyone in the first 24 hours.

##Vote Jamiet99y2k

If you vote me at any point ill probably vote you back.

##

[ghug]

##VOTE kgray

[lfischl]

##Vote Jamiet99y2k

If you vote me at any point ill probably vote you back.

##

I think ill just stop talking now.

[TheMadMonarch]

Let us begin.


##CALL GM Who is AREA-51, and who isn't? I can't tell.

[thamrick]

I hardclaim Foxcastle

[ghug]

Is there a reason for this?

Brainbomb gets a free Captain Crunch lunchbox if he votes for everyone in the first 24 hours.

that makes a lot more sense. Why captain crunch?

Randy walks with a measured, forcibly calm step to the living room where he does most of his dining, usually while facing his thirty-six-inch television. He sets up his San Miguel, an empty bowl, an exceptionally large soup spoon—so large that most European cultures would identify it as a serving spoon and most Asian ones as a horticultural implement. He obtains a stack of paper napkins, not the brown recycled ones that can’t be moistened even by immersion in water, but the flagrantly environmentally unsound type, brilliant white and cotton-fluffy and desperately hygroscopic. He goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge, reaches deep into the back, and finds an unopened box-bag-pod-unit of UHT milk. UHT milk need not, technically, be refrigerated, but it is pivotal, in what is to follow, that the milk be only a few microdegrees above the point of freezing. The fridge in Randy’s apartment has louvers in the back where the cold air is blown in, straight from the freon coils. Randy always stores his milk-pods directly in front of those louvers. Not too close, or else the pods will block the flow of air, and not too far away either. The cold air becomes visible as it rushes in and condenses moisture, so it is a simple matter to sit there with the fridge door open and observe its flow characteristics, like an engineer testing an experimental minivan in a River Rouge wind tunnel. What Randy would like to see, ideally, is the whole milk-pod enveloped in an even, jacketlike flow to produce better heat exchange through the multilayered plastic-and-foil skin of the milk-pod. He would like the milk to be so cold that when he reaches in and grabs it, he feels the flexible, squishy pod stiffen between his fingers as ice crystals spring into existence, summoned out of nowhere simply by the disturbance of being squished.

Today the milk is almost, but not quite, that cold. Randy goes into his living room with it. He has to wrap it in a towel because it is so cold it hurts his fingers. All is in readiness.

Randy takes the red box and holds it securely between his knees with the handy stay-closed tab pointing away from him. Using both hands in unison he carefully works his fingertips underneath the flap, trying to achieve equal pressure on each side, paying special attention to places where too much glue was laid down by the gluing-machine. For a few long, tense moments, nothing at all happens, and an ignorant or impatient observer might suppose that Randy is getting nowhere. But then the entire flap pops open in an instant as the entire glue-front gives way. Randy hates it when the box-top gets bent or, worst of all possible worlds, torn. The lower flap is merely tacked down with a couple of small glue-spots and Randy pulls it back to reveal a translucent, inflated sac. The halogen down-light recessed in the ceiling shines through the cloudy material of the sac to reveal gold—everywhere the glint of gold. Randy rotates the box ninety degrees and holds it between his knees so its long axis is pointed at the television set, then grips the top of the sac and carefully parts its heat-sealed seam, which purrs as it gives way. Removal of the somewhat milky plastic barrier causes the individual nuggets of Cap’n Crunch to resolve, under the halogen light, with a kind of preternatural crispness and definition that makes the roof of Randy’s mouth glow and throb in trepidation.

The gold nuggets of Cap’n Crunch pelt the bottom of the bowl with a sound like glass rods being snapped in half. Tiny fragments spall away from their corners and ricochet around on the white porcelain surface. World-class cereal-eating is a dance of fine compromises. The giant heaping bowl of sodden cereal, awash in milk, is the mark of the novice. Ideally one wants the bone-dry cereal nuggets and the cryogenic milk to enter the mouth with minimal contact and for the entire reaction between them to take place in the mouth. Randy has worked out a set of mental blueprints for a special cereal-eating spoon that will have a tube running down the handle and a little pump for the milk, so that you can spoon dry cereal up out of a bowl, hit a button with your thumb, and squirt milk into the bowl of the spoon even as you are introducing it into your mouth. The next best thing is to work in small increments, putting only a small amount of Cap’n Crunch in your bowl at a time and eating it all up before it becomes a pit of loathsome slime, which, in the case of Cap’n Crunch, takes about thirty seconds.

He pours the milk with one hand while jamming the spoon in with the other, not wanting to waste a single moment of the magical, golden time when cold milk and Cap’n Crunch are together but have not yet begun to pollute each other’s essential natures: two Platonic ideals separated by a boundary a molecule wide. Where the flume of milk splashes over the spoon-handle, the polished stainless steel fogs with condensation. Randy of course uses whole milk, because otherwise why bother? Anything less is indistinguishable from water, and besides he thinks that the fat in whole milk acts as some kind of a buffer that retards the dissolution-into-slime process. The giant spoon goes into his mouth before the milk in the bowl has even had time to seek its own level. A few drips come off the bottom and are caught by his freshly washed goatee (still trying to find the right balance between beardedness and vulnerability, Randy has allowed one of these to grow). Randy sets the milk-pod down, grabs a fluffy napkin, lifts it to his chin, and uses a pinching motion to sort of lift the drops of milk from his whiskers rather than smashing and smearing them down into the beard. Meanwhile all his concentration is fixed on the interior of his mouth, which naturally he cannot see, but which he can imagine in three dimensions as if zooming through it in a virtual reality display. Here is where a novice would lose his cool and simply chomp down. A few of the nuggets would explode between his molars, but then his jaw would snap shut and drive all of the unshattered nuggets straight up into his palate where their armor of razor-sharp dextrose crystals would inflict massive collateral damage, turning the rest of the meal into a sort of pain-hazed death march and rendering him Novocain mute for three days. But Randy has, over time, worked out a really fiendish Cap’n Crunch eating strategy that revolves around playing the nuggets’ most deadly features against each other. The nuggets themselves are pillow-shaped and vaguely striated to echo piratical treasure chests. Now, with a flake-type of cereal, Randy’s strategy would never work. But then, Cap’n Crunch in a flake form would be suicidal madness; it would last about as long, when immersed in milk, as snowflakes sifting down into a deep fryer. No, the cereal engineers at General Mills had to find a shape that would minimize surface area, and, as some sort of compromise between the sphere that is dictated by Euclidean geometry and whatever sunken-treasure-related shapes that the cereal-aestheticians were probably clamoring for, they came up with this hard-to-pin-down striated pillow formation. The important thing, for Randy’s purposes, is that the individual pieces of Cap’n Crunch are, to a very rough approximation, shaped kind of like molars. The strategy, then, is to make the Cap’n Crunch chew itself by grinding the nuggets together in the center of the oral cavity, like stones in a lapidary tumbler. Like advanced ballroom dancing, verbal explanations only goes so far and then your body just has to learn the moves.

[brainbomb]

I refuse to read that. but what a weird start

[Jamiet99uk]

Dance like nobody's watching you, Randy
And love like you've never been hurt
Supersize it when you get hungry, Randy
And eat like it's the last night on earth
Oh, you could be nobody in heaven
Or you could be a star in hell
You could have a billion dollars and blow it all
Oh well

[BunnyGo]

Cryptonomicon is an interesting reference. Not quite in theme, but good book.

[brainbomb]

Item Theif has never made an impact on a game ive been in with items. ive gmed item madness twice. I would expect that mafia here would think they have tons of cool abilities and they get rolled anyway.

[Jamiet99uk]

Now Randy said
"If you live in Japan
You're Japanese
If you live in Canada
You're gonna freeze
If you live in a plastic house
You'll never die in a fire
If you work in television
You're a fucking liar"

[thamrick]

That was beautiful ghug
That was beautiful, ghug
That was beautiful-ghug

[ghug]

Cryptonomicon is an interesting reference. Not quite in theme, but good book.

It's my immediate mental association whenever anyone brings up Cap'n Crunch.

Plus I went to school with Neal Stephenson's son, and who doesn't like a chance to brag about a second degree connection to someone nobody's heard of?

[ghug]

That was beautiful ghug
That was beautiful, ghug
That was beautiful-ghug

I am beautiful ghug.

[brainbomb]

Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.

[Jamiet99uk]

That was beautiful ghug
That was beautiful, ghug
That was beautiful-ghug

I am beautiful Randy.

Don't become unfocused Randy
And everything'll be okay
That confidence will come in handy
And everyone will be forced to say

That Randy's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
Randy's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
Randy's God tonight
He's God tonight
He's God tonight
Randy's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
He's hot tonight
'Cause we just wanna see the hot hot side of Randy.

[Jamiet99uk]

Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair.

Male pattern baldness is such a common problem. Sorry man.

[BunnyGo]

Cryptonomicon is an interesting reference. Not quite in theme, but good book.

It's my immediate mental association whenever anyone brings up Cap'n Crunch.

Plus I went to school with Neal Stephenson's son, and who doesn't like a chance to brag about a second degree connection to someone nobody's heard of?

That’s pretty cool. Stephensons books have been my go to at many different life stages.

[ghug]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hA_uPJ2vQQ0

[dargorygel]

Let us begin.


##CALL GM Who is AREA-51, and who isn't? I can't tell.

That's for me to know and you to find out.

But I assume you mean which roles.
Gunman Item Thief MP Secretary Man in Black