You gotta fight for your right to party

Hey homies, merry fucking New Year to everybody. Sorry I ain't been around much recently, I know it must be hard to have to go so long without hearing my sexy voice through the monitor-text. But it seems that either the shit's hitting the fan or we're Just sitting back and watching paint dry, there is no in-between. What are you gonna do?

So it's 2012 now. End of the world's comin' and all the bullshit. Sweet, as long as it's awesome, I can get behind that. But anyway. I was invited to a New Year's Eve party hosted by what's his name, that Writer dude. I think. To be honest, it wasn't nearly as much fun as I had hoped. I learned something this weekend. Many of my coworkers are unpleasant people. Especially the new Morningstar, he's a real jackass. Much less classy than the original. Most of his squad too. That fucking clown especially is a real bitch. Not everybody was bad though. Nightscream was a great dude; together we got that party started right. And while I didn't have a chance to talk to 'em much, David and Rachael seemed to be thoroughly respectable folks.

Well, we might as well get on with what actually went down. I arrived a bit late, and as such there wasn't really much going on when I arrived. Can't have a party without the R-Man, you know. I think they just didn't know how to do shit right, it looked like tensions were high, but nobody was bleeding yet. So I decided to help get the ball rolling. After retrieving a bottle of the finest something-alcoholic-it-doesn't-really-matter from behind the bar, I went over and gave my good buddy Morningstar a hug. He looked like he needed one. Considering I was only trying to be nice, he was very rude and told me to go fuck myself with a chainsaw. Or something to that effect.

I decided to leave the asshole to his brooding and find somebody with whom I could have a decent chat without them getting their panties all in a bunch. I found a rather well-dressed fellow who turned out to be my good buddy Nightscream. He- err... she? It? was uh, very nice, very nice. A model Slendercorp employee, one whose behavior all should attempt to emulate. It was around here that Newstar started getting all pissy when Screamy (I really do need to think of something else to call 'em though) started making fun of how much of a pussified dick he is compared to his predecessor. Now this was what I had come to see, so naturally I made an attempt to help poke the bear. Also, David got tackled by a psychotic, tiny, Japanese schoolgirl. Or at least, that's what it looked like, so that's the story I'm going with.

Having finished my one bottle, I returned to the bar for another and took a seat. Morningstar then started getting all pissy about Rachael being invited to the party, complaining to that Joseph guy about it. Douche. I stole another bottle and sat next to Nightscream again. Valtiel and Joseph and Rachael were talking about something. I wasn't paying much attention to what exactly, but it was clear anyway that something was about to go down. Finally, damn. I began constructing an improvised incendiary device, you know, in case somebody needed a fire started. About here, Valtiel started burning Rachael and punched out Joseph's throat. Then David went over. Screamy thought it was time for shit to get interesting. I concurred.

Joseph and David (I think, maybe just one of them) did something weird to make Valtiel back off. Rachael pulled out a gun which she pointed at Newstar. Something weird happened and I'm really very confused as to what went down around this point. Nightscream disappeared somewhere, my incendiary device was gone (and sadly, didn't appear to have caught anything on fire), and I was fighting Gleeman. Fucking Joker-wannabe sprayed acid on me!! My trusty jacket blocked it of course, however this seems to have created a bit a er, problem. You see my jacket is very special. On the outside it may appear to be a simple leather jacket, but in reality, it is created with some of the same material as Tall Dark and Slender's suit. Or something similarly. Anyway, the bottom line is, my jacket possesses some odd dimensional features; the most useful of these being that the pockets are larger on the inside. Like a fucking TARDIS.

Anyway, I discovered that that shit really shouldn't be allowed to melt. It most especially won't be allowed to melt while you are still wearing it. Shit is now fused onto my arm it seems. It did not prevent me from winning my fight with Gleeman, however, as I successfully got a bullet or two in the fucker. He ignored them and continued fighting as if nothing had happened, but that is not the point. The point is, I fucking filled one of Newstar's minions full of holes! Mwhahahahahaha!!!1!1!!!1one!!!1

No, but I would've taken the fucker. If... something hadn't happened then that made all of our weapons disappear and shit. The barista did something. Or "Joseph" (I'm sorry, have I been doing that wrong all through here?). Didn't really catch it exactly, I was running at the time. Star's team wussed out then and left, as did Rachael. And really everyone that was still around was just going on about some shit or other, not really that interesting. So I decided to finish the night out with some light binge drinking. I awoke Monday morning on my mom's porch. Son of a bitch, that was certainly fun.

All in all, it was a damn good party. Though it could've been waaaay better. I'm going to suggest some improvements for next year. This year. Whatever.

So that's really it. Wanted to tell ya'll about the party, as I'm sure most of you out there didn't have time to party; what, with the Tall Guy being all on yo' asses and everything. But a happy new year to everyone. The Big Man is what brings us all together, and here's to many more joining our numbers in the new year. Cheers!

Stay frosty.

Criminy. Ridley saw that I posted here. Now he's demanding that I write stuff for him until his stupid hand heals up. What a crybaby.

Oh for the love of... he's standing behind me right now pointing his gun at my head. He just smacked me on the back of the head with it. Methinks the man doth take this far too serious. I don't even know what he expects me to put down here, nothing particularly interesting has happened since I wrote yesterday. I have been reading through some more of these blogs in my free time. They tend to fall into one of two categories: drivel and rather amusing if atrociously-written comedy. Honestly, can't you folks convey any idea without dropping f-bombs ever other word? It's simply barbaric.

Yes Ridley, I am referring to you as well. No, I shall not be looking up lyrics for one of your idiotic rock and roll songs for the title. If it bothers you, well I just don't particularly care if it bothers you.

Alright, alright, I'll put that down. Quit screeching at me. That man that's been watching the hideout was back again. We noticed him rather easily today, seeing as he was the only person just standing out in the rain getting drenched. Legacy wanted to send the twins out after him, but Madi yelled at him for sending children out in the rain. I've never seen anyone yell at Legacy before; he seemed to be too shocked to think of anyway to respond to her. It didn't matter by that point anyway; following that little exchange we saw that the man had run off again. This is just becoming rather irritating at this point. We're the ones who watch and stalk people. Somebody trying to play that game with us, sooner or later they'll slip up and then they'll be a dead man. Sweet justice...

Ridley appears satisfied with this update. He's leaving now anyway, so I could just as easily delete all this. But then he'd only check on it later and then shoot me in the kneecap while I'm reading the paper. Or something ungentlemanly like that. What a douche.

--Roulette

Huh. So this is the blog thing that Ridley was talking about.

Geez, there really are a lot of you people. I thought Ridley was exaggerating when he started talking about how many of the stalked keep blogs and crap. Seriously, you're being hunted by an eldritch abomination and the first thing you do is get on the computer and start blogging about it? That is not how a rational person acts. I mean, Ridley has an excuse, as he is neither being stalked nor is he a rational person. Of course, reading some of yours' stuff, that second bit might apply to you all as well. In which case, you really should seek professional help. This is why they have therapists and psychologists and all the other idiots who do that kind of useless work. Not that I haven't had some good laughs at the things in you guys' blogs. Because I have; most of them are really quite funny.

Though I can't believe people actually read this blog. Although I can think of why blogging about his stupid adventures would be beneficial to me. I do find his stories rather amusing, but my god is Ridley ever annoying. You all seriously have no idea. He never shuts up. I'm amazed that Legacy has not yet at least attempted to remove his tongue. We did break his hand though. That might be why it seems he's been gone for a while. I can't believed he hasn't just asked his little whore to write down his crazy ramblings for him though.

Oh, look at that. Ridley made nice little introductions of all of us. How nice. They're pretty accurate too. Legacy's a tool, the twins are creepy little brats, Death's Head is psychotic, Sullivan is a tool, No-Name is... depressing, and... Aww, isn't that nice? Calling me the only sane man, but I guess it's only true. In case you can't figure it out, (and considering most of you are running instead of doing something useful with the rest of your life, like becoming educated, I'd venture to say you might need the help) I am Roulette. I was an assassin, and I continue to be from time to time. Otherwise I just move around with these stooges and bemoan how uncivilized they are in their execution methods. Spilling blood is highly overrated, especially when there are far cleaner ways of killing.

But enough about me. Since Ridley was nice enough to introduce my team to you all, how about I talk about his team for a bit, hmm? I'm sure you all know them well enough at this point. First we have Ridley, who used to work for some crazy Mexican with a Victorian fashion sense (well, I guess I can't fault him for that; modern fashion is simply barbarian) who seems to be doing who knows what now. Ridley himself is also crazy, has a voice only somewhat less grating than Chris Tucker, and enjoys watching some absolutely atrocious movies. Like ones with Chris Tucker in them, or that were made after 1960. Modern cinema blows. As I understand it, Ridley worked in criminal enterprises before signing on with the Dapper Fellow.

Then we have Lucifer. He's dead now, so we don't really care about him.

Finally we have Madi. Used to be a runner, got caught up in some weird and convoluted shennanigans with the Mexican fellow before Ridley struck off on his own and dragged her along with him. He has to be doing her, there's no other reason for him to keep bringing her along and not kill her. So far I see no evidence that she has done anything other than become a puppet and try to steal what is rightfully the Master's. She creeps me out a bit, honestly. She either sits around just staring into space or acts far too normal to be hanging with proxies. The way she talks to us all, you'd think she was talking to the old lady next door and not a bunch of lunatics. Sorry, a bunch of lunatics and one awesome sort of ex-assassin. It's just unusual is all. There's also the way that that broken arm she came here with was completely healed after a couple days, and I think it had only been maybe two weeks since it happened. Eh, weird stuff, it happens.

One last note, because I realize this has gotten very long and I should rather not become insane like all of you, I notice that Ridley seems to have failed to mention that we have been being watched. Not those tools from Crusader either (we haven't seen them around since their grocery store blew up); at least I don't think that's who it is. It's just random people, watching. They walk off if we try to approach them, and always somehow manage to just disappear. In the last week it's been much more often, but it's actually been the same person several times, which hasn't happened before. Usually we only see them once, or maybe twice. That guy Ridley mentioned trying to break in before Crusader robbed us was one of them I think. I was the one on guard duty that night and from what I could see, it didn't look like how those lunatics tend to dress. Could have been trying to throw us off or something but...

You know what? I'm done now. I have actual work to be doing. Things that are productive and not running aimlessly all over the frickin' United States or just randomly killing idiots, unlike the rest of you. Not that killing idiots is not productive, I just do it in a manner more becoming of a proper gentleman. All of you suck. Good night.