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| The Potato - Worth Waiting. Four! | Started by: TsuDhoNimh on Feb 26, '17 16:39 |
What? An excuse or apology for being late? No need. We have a really punny title. They'll be too busy laughing their asses off they won't even notice we're late or that half the content is terrible. Much like the Oracle at Delphi, except a lot less feminine and in no way possessed by Apollo, we here at The Potato like to make unnerving predictions while highly intoxicated. We tend to use whiskey more than noxious fumes escaping from rocks, but the end results are pretty much the same. Incredible predictions that lead people to believe we're the center of the earth and lavish us with extravagant gifts. We're still waiting on those extravagant gifts by the way. Whenever you're ready. Any time now. We're sure they're just stuck in the post. With great power comes great responsibility. We're not responsible, so with our great power comes great danger and absolute carnage at times. And that's just the way we like it. I'm not saying I'm writing this week's issue with a semi of visible excitement under the table... but I'm not not saying that either.
Week 1: The Potato speaks to Anteros. Week 2: Anteros is dead. Week 2: The Potato calls out that Anthony leader in Detroit as being asleep at the wheel. Week 3: Anthony is dead. Week 3: We announce James_Storm as our nemesis. Week 4: The whole of New York, including James GRHS, is wiped out.
Now we're not saying that The Potato took it upon themselves to organize these killings. We're not saying that it was us saying these things that directly led to each of these deaths. We're not saying we're the most powerful voice in the six cities and you should bow at our feet and shower us in gifts. We are, however, strongly suggesting you should reread this entire paragraph again while ignoring the word "not".
Week 4: We're giving each of the leaders of our fine cities the opportunity to cough up their donations. Week 5: ...
We look forward to seeing just how the week progresses, just as we look forward to seeing our out bank account inflates. Please do remember our love is for sale, we're little more than prostitutes selling our words to the highest bidder and, most importantly, Argyle is an incredibly handsome and talented leader while Shady_Sam is easily one of the wittiest and charismatic leaders these shores have ever seen. You two can have such positively glowing comments in next week's paper for the low low price of just $9,999,999.00. To you our loyal Spudites, please keep up the listening to our words and killing on our whims. It's great to have such power to wield and not have to spend ages writing about boring crap to fill a full issue. This time it'll probably only be 95% the boring crap. Lots of passive aggression towards you and your loved ones, ~Tsu~
Let's get the obvious out of the way first. Yes, Disorder killed everyone in New York. But we're a newspaper and that's not news, that's just pointing out the obvious. We here at The Potato intend to dig deeper and bring you more. So with that in mind, we're happy to make up a load of shit to make this all far more interesting than it actually was. We're good like that. You may tip the shit out of us now. First the dull stuff. Our sincere condolences go out to all who lost friends, loved ones and family in New York in recent days. It's always a tragedy to lose those close to you, we feel your pain and we want your money as much as anyone else's so let's get those kind wishes included here and benefit significantly. You can show just how much you're mourning the loss by the size of your donations. And a genuine rest in peace to all the fallen. Now, what happened?
Ok... so that's pretty impressive. Normally we try and abuse hapless hit squad leaders who weren't able to keep everyone on a tight leash or completely screw the pooch on overly ambitious shot selections, but that's a pretty impressive start. You can ignore the timing errors of my own watch, they all occur post xx:37 in reality rather than someone being a bit premature. Eighteen button men, and poor Fuzzy there, down in around a minute. That scores a solid nine in our patented "Holy shit, I think I just pooped myself" scale and a firm zero in our far more common "Look at those window lickers and a miserable cock up of a first wave". Incredible planning and flawless execution or just a really lopsided takedown where poor New York never actually stood a chance? We'll let you decide... but as a top tip, it's totally the second one. We're still confident the guys that were planning this were busy licking windows in their spare time, they just got a bit lucky. Totally. The deaths continued until all button men from within the city had fallen and a handful of active associates joined them. There was also a large number of untagged associates that died for lack of taking a moment to declare family affiliations, so if nothing else let this prompt everyone reading to ensure they clearly display their own family loyalties. It could literally be the difference between life and death should the worst ever happen to your leader.
So, let's go straight to the horse's mouth... yes, I totally just called Disorder a horse, I'm incredibly brave slash stupid like that... and see what really happened here shall we? We shall. Grab your coffee, hit to the toilet and prepare for a bowl breaking poop of epic proportions as we give you the real story of what happened in the Big Apple with a little of our old favorite... "What was said ~*~ What was meant".
Tonight we saw a city fall. ~*~ I just killed everyone. And for what, you may all ask. ~*~ Seriously. All dead. Did you see them? Totally dead. Well, I could give you a number of reasons and all could have legitimacy. ~*~ Even if I lied to you, what the hell you gonna do about it? There were a few issues brewing here and there that were becoming a concern but the decision to move essentially boiled down to one incident. ~*~ I'm too tired to go through all the reasons, I've just used all my energy killing everyone. Did you see? All deaded. I think I deserve some cake. A misplaced shot took a New York life earlier. ~*~ Someone followed in my footsteps and tried killing everyone. They didn't do a good job, to be honest, but points for trying to emulate the legend that is me I guess. That shot came from a Las Vegas gun. ~*~ I wonder if there's any chocolate cake? The shooter came forward immediately and took responsibility for their actions and his leader contacted MissNikki to make amends. ~*~ This whole thing should have been sorted out here. The minute it interrupted me looking for cake... it was never going to end well. After a couple of requests for an agreeable compensation figure were not answered, a measure of the deceased and their value according to rank, capacity and activity was taken. ~*~ We offered the aggrieved the option of setting what they felt was just and fair... The sum of five million was then offered. This was rejected, with MissNikki asking for 7.5 million stating "He was one of my top earners" as her principal reason for wanting the extra 2.5 million. ~*~ After failing to set a figure, they then reject ours and do set a figure? Fuck no! I call shenanigans. A lengthy discussion ensued, at the end of which I found myself looking at someone floundering for excuses and changing their story in order to avoid simply having the spine to own up and be straight with me. ~*~ I still hadn't had my cake and now I had to deal with this shit. Heads gonna roll! I left the conversation with my mind settled. There would be no working with someone without the internal strength to be forthright. Someone that was willing to risk throwing their whole city under a bus for the sake of 2.5 million dollars and the inability to be honest. ~*~ I wonder if they have any cake in New York? I must check after I kill them all. It was the clear point of punctuation on a growing uncertainty that had been raised on a few occasions. The decision was made and what you see now is the result of that." ~*~ In case you forgot already... I killed everyone. Yup, all dead. This life can be as complicated or as simple as you want it to be. One thing I would recommend would be to be straight with people... Especially dangerous ones asking serious questions. ~*~ Ohhhh look. Cake! Sweet!
Some have since claimed the whole takedown was a reaction to the delay in the New York party earlier in the week. Some have suggested it was a reaction to Fletcher recently stepping up with a new bold suit. We here at The Potato were mostly starting those rumors as we had some pre-prepared content that was made utterly irrelevant once the entire city was wiped out. We were trying to drag them back to relevance, but we failed horribly so now they'll sit on the editing room floor. I hate you all for making me work harder. Though, it did involve killing and chaos... so I'll excuse it just this once. Rest in peace to all the fallen and condolences to all those feeling their loss. Having said that, it's totally worth it all if it gives us shots, deaths, and maimings to talk about. Keep up the good work!
Do not fear everyone. I know what you were thinking. You were thinking that good ol' Richard had left you to self-rage alone. I have not! I am here. But I have hit the rum. So beware. I really do not give a fuck this week! Following the hundreds of mails I opened last week I feel your love. Truly I do. I never knew how many slacking bastards we have. If Disorder wasn't such a blood hungry egomaniac I would tell him to step down and take over. But if he ever heard that I would be fucked. So don't tell him and we will do it on the sly. Oops. Ok. So. What's pissed me off this week? FUCKING EVERYTHING.
So I am going to pull just a few small points to illustrate the general clusterfuck:
1. You know when you go out in the streets and respond to someone? Then the fuckhead decides that instead of responding to your words he will send a mail explaining himself and trying to proceed that way? FUCK. OFF. That is not the way this works. The ways this actually works is that we respond, like men, in public to each other. This is literally about who has the bigger sausage, my friend. It's about who knows more than the other. It's about who is right and who is wrong. So I had this bellend mail me. Tell me I was wrong. Me? Ex-Captain of the South Essex. I think fucking not my friend. He proceeds to tell me that he would make me like foolish. HA, do not make me laugh while I dine on your wife's... No. I won't go there. Nearly everyone else does, but I won't. But it totally happened. Lesson in life kiddos. If you want to engage in street warfare. Make sure you have two things. One: Facts on your side. Two: The balls to crack on if your facts were wrong. You have to make your bullshit better than their facts. Fact. Movin' on.
2. When your leader does not have the testicular fortitude to stand up for themselves. Please do not come out in the streets wondering why they are dead. It is not hard to understand why this has happened, is it? You have to choose your leaders carefully! Everybody knows that Disorder sits in his HQ debating who to shoot next. Well, it's not really debating. He just picks them. If you lack a set of testicles (If you are a woman your handbag substitutes for testicles. Sexism? pfft. Grow a pair) he will shoot you. If he is justified in his decision, as he was this week, then please do not whine. You should have chosen better.
3. Overbearing ginger Irish right-hand men of families that you do not belong to telling you they have not written a paper on a Friday night, then asking you whether you have written your piece as he is ready to publish not more than just 36 hours later. I mean come on. I am a proper Northern bastard. Takes me three weeks to write my shopping list.
4. Having judges for a competition, that involves reading, that read at the same pace I do. I mean come on. I spent at least 3 hours concocting a story about my time saving some crazy guy from some make-believe warehouse. At least have the common decency to tell us how shite our totally made up ver... How our daring rescues and murders rated!
5. I would just like to end this on a bit of a non-normal non-angry note. I know. I am sorry. It's not what you waited for. Last night a good friend of mine was shot by a total gobshite. She was shot for no reason other than, well, no fucking reason. She was my friend, my voice of reason and someone you could depend your life on. She was taken from us to soon. Rest in peace anibas. You will be missed. That death pisses me off more than anything. For the first, and hopefully last, time Dick and I are in complete agreement here. We lost an angel all too soon. Sleep well dear anibas.
So, I know this upsets you all, but I shall see you all next week. For another rant that fills this turnips poor quality paper pages. Remember kids, that's just the tip!
We're not normally ones to give away the secrets to endless money. We'd totally steal that shit for ourselves. But every so often we like to give something back to the world. And kids... this is it. This is the big one. We got it straight from an irrefutable source. We got it from the Judge himself. We now have a system to break the house.
Some have claimed it was this revelation that led to the much-loved @StripheCorelli, well known for his gambling prowess, retiring from the business. Some have claimed it was this revelation that led to the now infamous bastid that is House allowing City Hall to sell off rights for new casinos back to members of this thing of ours. Others have claimed it was this revelation that led to Faceman finally pulling a funny face as I've been asking him to do for weeks now. The claims that it has led to Lillith abandoning her vow of chastity and throwing herself at Judge's feet have yet to be refuted by her, so you can make your own minds up on that one (*Disclaimer: We have just made this claim, so that might go some way to explaining the lack of refutation before now).
Now, some of you are probably thinking... But Tsu, dying will have no impact on the odds of a stateless event But Tsu, the streaks are all part of natural standard deviation and the odds of each individual event are still fifty-fifty But Tsu, this guy clearly has absolutely no understanding of probability or chance or how casinos actually profit
Normally I'd say "Yeah, you're right. Ignore the idiot in the corner chewing the paste he stole from the windows" while looking at Mattsr after his latest losing streak. But this one is different. People want this one dead! Dun dun dunnnnnnn! He clearly must be on to something when the leaders of our fine shores want to end his life. Has he cracked the system? (No) Has he found a way to beat the odds? (No) Is he going to change the economy of our world forever with his exponential wins? (Clearly not) It's far more likely he's in hot water over this little gem (We've removed the identity of the recipient in order to ensure privacy and avoid any potential embarrassment. We're good like that)...
But things don't end there. This insight led to some revelations we here at The Potato just had to share.
We assumed we'd misheard. That couldn't possibly have been what it sounded like. Unsure, we decided to listen closely and see if we could clarify things...
So... we can't help you win big at the casino. Sadly. But if you're looking to sort out some slaves or carry out some other activities, The Potato is confident they can point you in the right direction.
ChicagoA relatively quiet week for the windy city, they normally dominate these pages. It's not that they're newsworthy mind, just that our intrepid reporters (*reporter) has the least distance to travel to get dirt on this lot. We could go into detail about Reggie's fapping admissions, we could go into detail on Utopia's guns (not his gun, mind) or his application to start a lonely heart column in The Potato to aid in "The search", or we could go into detail on the revelations that Faceman and TsuDhoNimh had a little-known love child running around Chicago with the name Tsu-Face, but honestly the less I think about most of these things the better for my own health. The voices in my head get angry so easily these days. Next!
DetroitDetroit saw a little action with the arrival of @TarloSzatana and MrDonnieVegas in motor city. We wish both the best of luck and expect great things from them... or if we're wrong we hope they go out in hilarious fashion that we can mock and discuss for weeks here in The Potato. In less positive news it also saw the loss of Kage, right-hand man and prominent member of The High Rollers. GRHS.
Las VegasSee pretty much all of the rest of the paper for details on Las Vegas killing everything. What? We're going to have to stop suggesting Disorder is killing everyone and point out things like Chicago losing a member in the takedown? Don't be silly. We totally don't. I don't think anyone would believe us. We lost another prominent member of cosa nostra when anibas, left-hand man to Ultimate Team #1, was gunned down late last night. GRHS. Are these orchestrated attacks? Are people aiming to bring down hands across our cities as they're a bit too shit to try leaders? We're guessing not. We're thinking it's all perfectly explained by Hanlon's Razor. Never attribute to malice what can adequately be explained by stupidity. Tune in next week to see if I have to eat my words and which of our fine hands across the cities martyr themselves to prove me wrong. Los AngelesAnother city that had a quiet week. I think? Maybe I just didn't pay much attention this week? That's actually seeming far more likely. Shit. I'm going to ask people to start letting me know if shit happens. Clearly, I can't be trusted on my own. Nothing. I've got nothing here. A solid week. Zero noticeable fuck ups or nothing outstanding of note (*that I noticed and remember... so caveat there). Dull as many of the others with the whole solid performing and lack of fuck ups. I'd hoped for more... or less? Or worse? Whatever. Please mess up more and ask CookieSandwich to stop making me hungry every time I sit down to write about LA. Tks.
New YorkRest in peace to all the fallen of New York. TL;DR: They got rekt.
What will the future hold for the big apple? Who knows? Ohhh, I mean, we totally know. We're just not telling you yet. Yeah, that'll work. They'll totally believe that. We know everything, we're great like that.
PhiladelphiaRumors have started circulating that Argyle has suggested to City Hall that some of the prizes he won for their amazing Pass The Batton entry be redistributed slightly among the other cities. This would explain both the delay in prizes being given to the now potentially winning losers and also why so many believe that Argyle is the best. Seriously, you too could have this level of ass kissing for simply $9,999,999.00 next week. Like Philly haven't even paid for this shit, they're simply being thrust into a position as our advertising guinea pigs and they're still coming out of things looking freakin' awesome. However, much of that is down to how awesome they actually are (See? See that amazing spin! All yours. Cheap cheap price. Get in touch today). Bella Vista welcomed Buttercup as their newest leader as organized crime continues to expand its reach in the city of brotherly love. Will she be able to take the heat or will her dreams end up melted on the floor? We wish her the best of luck on her new adventures. What? No butter puns? Really? Reggie is liable to get a little too excited if we mention butter too often? You make a good point. Let's move on quickly.
The world is no place to try and go it alone. Without a family, you die. A thriving media empire is a lot like a family. It smells like wet cabbage. It doesn't react well if you try and poop near it. It gets pretty angry if you try and kick it in the nuts. The parallels are startling really. In order for it to function it needs people with incredible talent. As I have no talent, that means the paper needs you! Have gossip for a story? Have something you want to get off your chest but don't have the balls to say it yourself? Have something you want to reach a large audience with and fear nobody will listen if they know it's your idiotic thoughts? Want to simply be a part of the greatest paper to have hit the streets ever (or at least today) The Potato?
If so, get in touch. We need reporters, researchers, photographers, sketch artists, and groupies. We're especially low on groupies at the moment, so all applicants for that position will be given the highest priority and my own personal attention. If you are interested in working with The Potato, get in touch with the editor today! |
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Deep down, Shady_Sam knew it was petty, weak and likely expressed some form of insecurity to pay someone else to write nice things about himself. How it might be perceived as a trait unfitting for a crew leader, that his money could be better spent elsewhere and in far more practical matters.
But fuck it.
"I deserve this," Sam mutters to himself as he reaches out for a pair of scissors to begin cutting out the small little portion where his name was mentioned. The little scrap of cheap paper was tucked away into a drawer for safekeeping, leaving Sam to carry on with his reading of the articles while sipping his cup o' joe. |
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| Reply by: Shady_Sam at Feb 26, '17 21:20 | |
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Feeling a little under the weather Lillith was enjoying a quiet day on her own. The aroma of healing soup cooking on the stove filling her modest, yet somewhat luxurious apartment with it's tantalizing tendrils. One of her most loyal "assistants" had brought her some toast with just the right amount of honey on it, a mug of hot water and lemon, some aspirin, and the latest Potato. After thanking her friend she started to nibble some toast while reading the paper. It wasn't long before she almost choked on a bite of her toast. Spitting it out to avoid choking, because she really was a lady, she hit her beloved cat in the face. The cat knocked over the hot lemon water. The hot lemon water dumped all over poor, ailing Lillith's lap, scalding her a bit... WHAT IN THE BLUE BLAZING FUCKADOODLE?!?! I'm ... I'm ... Her eyes almost bulging out of her head in disbelief. I'm going to kill him. I'm *cough* going to... She pulls herself out of bed and starts to get dressed. Noticing the bottle of top shelf Canadian rye she kept within arms reach she grabs it, opens it, and starts chugging. I'm going... to... Oh fuck it. No matter what I do the bastard potato head will out me! Not even the confines of the back room where leaders and their hands partake in scandalous sexing, gossip exchanges, and discussions of cookies vs brownies are sacred anymore. She looks at the assistant who had fallen asleep in the corner and growls. Use this to line the birdcage with will you? Ugh, how am I supposed to attend next week's meeting and live this down?? He's such a twatwaffle... Worse than Keypunch the virginator of twatwaffles. Holding her bottle of rye close to her she returns to her bed to heal, rest, and plot her revenge against the Potato. I can't even deny saying it.. that's the worst part. |
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| Reply by: Lillith at Feb 26, '17 22:23 | |
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Another week, another issue of The Potato. Daniella couldn’t help but laugh at the implications that were drawn in the paper. It was a bit odd that everyone The Potato shined a bad light on seemed to pass away before the next edition was released. She made a mental note to send the editor a friendly letter, one could never really be too safe after all. The breakdown of Godfather Disorder’s recent speech was another hilarious bit. She wondered if the Godfather would be flooded with chocolate cakes now; she was tempted to send him one herself. Maybe she could have it say something like “Killing Machine” in frosting. Or “Disorder kills everything” but that might be too long to fit on a cake. She particularly like a piece by Richard Sharpe that involved some angry ranting. Thoughts that everyone had but very few people usually put into writing like he had. Folding up the newspaper she finished off her coffee before deciding to go find the best bakery in Chicago. Surely there would be one around somewhere. |
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| Reply by: Daniella at Feb 27, '17 01:30 | |
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So... uhm... Lillith... How's it going? winks |
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| Reply by: Jono at Feb 27, '17 05:09 | |
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She buries her face in her hands and groans... Of course, you... Jono. YOU would be the first to comment. Holding her favourite stabby stabby knife in her hands she looks at Jono and smiles... It's going fantastic. Tremendous even. |
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| Reply by: Lillith at Feb 27, '17 05:23 | |
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Faceman reads through this issue of the potato with hearty chuckles until he comes across a small section about him having a lovechild with the editor, he feels sick to the core at the thought and vows to never read the potato again (at least until the next issue). With a red face, bring a mix of anger and embarrassment he turns to find TsuDhoNimh at the crew HQ I will have my revenge TsuDhoNimh i guarantee it in this life or the next! he thinks about another article he read about not loving parents or something, but quickly forgets about it when his path of vengeance becomes clear to him. He rips out the article with intentions to force feed it to TsuDhoNimh and makes his way home. |
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| Reply by: Faceman at Feb 27, '17 14:54 | |
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Evelyn takes the latest issue of the Potato from TsuDhoNimh, she opens it up and starts glancing through it. She was a huge fan of this paper, it made her chuckle each and every time she read it. Knowing she didn't have enough time to finishing reading through it, she folding it up and tucked it in her bag for later. At the same time she took about a couple dollars and handed it to him. "I just love these papers, keep them coming." |
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| Reply by: EvelynReed at Feb 27, '17 16:15 | |
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Late into the night Ezreal began pondering over his day while looking over mails he'd long forgotten about reading. After opening and replying to a few mails he grabs a letter and underneath it was the newest issue of the potato he'd had one of his bodyguards pick up when he went to town a few nights ago. Putting the mail down he begins to read the head line of the news papers and begins to chuckle. Scrolling down he notices the recent noted trend of deaths that were almost as if predicted by the news paper articles leaving small bread crumbs. His heart began to race with the thought of such powers if it were true. "No way in hell could he predict their deaths...could he?" Ezreal begins to sweat, wiping away a few droplets from his forehead he continues to read. A few articles in and he continues to notice a trend having only heard of the death of ButterCup and here he is reading of her as if she is still alive. "Damn I really need to read the news more, I'm falling far behind. Maybe TsuDhoNimh really does have such skills in hit listing members of our society through via newspaper..." Ezreal starts reminiscing since the two met, hoping he'd never meet such incident. Shaking his head grinning he continues to read, finishing the newspaper he places it on the desk before stretching his arms out yawning. Standing up he lights his cigarette and leans against the wall. "That was one great article, that man truly knows how to continuously step it up each and every week. Hell seems this man is possessing his own little death note book. I'd hate to be on the wrong end of his headline." Taking a large drag from his cigarette he exhales putting it out in one of the ashtrays on the desk "I can't wait to see his next issue" |
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| Reply by: Ezreal at Feb 28, '17 02:29 | |
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