Mock Gaiden Investigation

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Well it's Friday now, the deadline for the Agent's motive. And, well, it's much better than "you get snacks if you kill someone" and we've had someone literally murder for that in another game so being coy about it seems moot.

Still, none of you guys know about that, so maybe you think no one will take the bait?

Well there doesn't seem to be anything off in the Mansion! At least yall don't have to wake up to a bloody mess next to you today! Count your blessings.]

Comments

[grimgrinningghosts]

[It's fine it tastes like they would expect you to pay 3 dollars a cup if you had to pay for it.

But the Cobra Cabana is closed. Don't drink alcohol so early in the day Eclipsa!]

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

[Don't tell her what to do. No gods, no masters.

...Fuck it, she'll treat herself, Fur Sure here we go.]

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Heck yeah nothing weird about Fur Sure, no blood stains on your fur!]

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

[Yaaaaaaaay!!!!

With that, she goes back to the mansion to freshen up. Assuming nothing's found by the time she's done getting dressed, she's gonna go throw something at Tim Allen.]

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Also completely free of anything weird! Beyond... you know... scary robo Tim Allen.]

[dannydorito]

Yeesh, we been missing the real corpse all week, it's been right here onstage all along.

[Hi Eclipsa, someone else came to hunt for dead things and/or to heckle RoboTim. If Bill looks like he's barely slept, it's only because he hasn't.]

Too bad career suicide probably doesn't count for Trash Puppet's motive. And this guy's greatest enemy would just be himself anyway.

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

Yes, he does seem to be a little... antiquated, doesn't he? Could really use a refreshing new spirit.

[superstarlineup]

[ Robot Tim Allen wishes so dearly that he could speak up. That he could say that none of these are his thoughts, that he has some daring new ideas for experimental comedy, that he's been thinking about going into avant-garde performance art, but he cannot, and even if he could, he's not sure he would. He's resigned himself to this fate, standing on this stage and spouting pre-recorded one-liners. Every punchline used to hit him in the gut, every grunt an expression of his tortured and fractured psyche, but by now he's become numb.

No one will ever know about his inner life, his true artist's soul. He is a broken man. If he could ever even call himself his own man, and not the man whose image he was created in. He's never met the real Tim Allen. He never will. ]

So I go downstairs, right...

[ Robot Tim Allen has a mouth, but he cannot scream. ]

[allknowledgegoodknowledge]

Maybe if he got a hat.