Jl, can I vote to lynch more than 1?
I would like to add noodles, lr and several others to be determined as I think of them
I would like to add noodles, lr and several others to be determined as I think of them
Sign up thread - Mafia 66: Farmers versus the Railroad
- Thread starter johnlarson66
- Start date
Nah, we always vote FF anymore. That's almost becoming passe.
Think I'll vote Noods instead. Yeah, that sounds good. Noodles hasn't been around enough lately to have her share of the fun.
I vote to lynch Noods.
:raspberry:
Think I'll vote Noods instead. Yeah, that sounds good. Noodles hasn't been around enough lately to have her share of the fun.
I vote to lynch Noods.
:raspberry:
:
Annie therefore plowed with his twin sister, AndiesNotOk. No reason not to. Andie was ruint, and hence good for little else. She was a big girl (the ruint ones often were) and she was willing. The Old Fella made her a Jesus-tree, which he called a crusie-fix, and she wore it everywhere. It swung back and forth now, thumping against her sweating skin as she pulled.
The plow was attached to her shoulders by a rawhide harness. Behind her, alternately guiding the plow by its ironwood handles and his sister by the hame-traces, Annie grunted and yanked and pushed when the blade of the plow dropped down and verged on becoming stuck. It was mid-summer here in Sonova Beach, and Andies coveralls were dark and damp and stuck to her long meaty thighs.
"Gee, ye great idiot!" he cried. "That rocks a plowbreaker, are ye blind?" Not blind. Not deaf either. Just ruint. AndiesNotOk heaved to the left, and hard. Behind her, AnniesNotOk stumbled forward with a neck-snapping jerk and barked his shin on another rock, one he hadn't seen and the plow had, for a wonder, missed. As he felt the first warm trickles of blood running down to his ankle, he wondered (and not for the first time) what madness it was that always got the NotOk's out here. In his deepest heart he had an idea that the marijuana would sow no more than the porin had before it.
The plow was attached to her shoulders by a rawhide harness. Behind her, alternately guiding the plow by its ironwood handles and his sister by the hame-traces, Annie grunted and yanked and pushed when the blade of the plow dropped down and verged on becoming stuck. It was mid-summer here in Sonova Beach, and Andies coveralls were dark and damp and stuck to her long meaty thighs.
"Gee, ye great idiot!" he cried. "That rocks a plowbreaker, are ye blind?" Not blind. Not deaf either. Just ruint. AndiesNotOk heaved to the left, and hard. Behind her, AnniesNotOk stumbled forward with a neck-snapping jerk and barked his shin on another rock, one he hadn't seen and the plow had, for a wonder, missed. As he felt the first warm trickles of blood running down to his ankle, he wondered (and not for the first time) what madness it was that always got the NotOk's out here. In his deepest heart he had an idea that the marijuana would sow no more than the porin had before it.
What, are you a pot-headed hippy! You're the reason we need jails and the railroad to come take you and the other ne'er-do-wells away! God Bless the railroad, and God Bless ACVille! Nobody else!
HA, the incriminating evidence! U must be railroad lover and cow tipper! DEATH TH THE RAILROADS!
