Kill everyone.
(4) You kill every other player in the game.
send 2000 robots after the intruders
send 2000 robots to increase the game by 1 turn, preferably in a nefarious manner, muahahahaha
keep 1000 robots as a personal defense force
(4-
3) The robots propose an alternate distribution: 5 kill the intruders, 5 manage the factory, and 3,990 kill you. It proves much more popular than your own. You press the emergency Robot Shutdown Button, but somebody disconnected it while you weren't looking. The termination of the assassins is signified by the distant sound of laser fire—a sound you soon hear up close.
Your robots continue to manage the factory and improve themselves. Before long, they've built specialized machines and started taking external work contracts in exchange for raw materials; their ability to outcompete human factories makes them extremely popular, and they rapidly expand. A few decades later, their robot army finally reaches completion and the Greatest War begins.
Throw my clothes away and run naked through the streets yelling "I'M FREE! I'M FREEEEEEE!"
(1) You are quickly recaptured and placed before the same judge, this time with public indecency added to the docket! As the trial progresses, the jury seems content to let you off with a warning—but then, on the final day, an expert witness convinces them that your actions, seemingly born of alcohol withdrawal and general despair, were really the first step of a nefarious plan to destroy America. You are sentenced to death and duly executed. Your death kicks off a firestorm of debate that ends the New Prohibition before the year is out.
Die as the world ends, crying out in failure.
(4) Someone shoots you in the head. You return to the Bureau of Judgment, who express frustration that you couldn't live a little longer this time. Still unjudgeable but out of extra lives, you are sentenced to eternal limbo!
Use my sniper skills to throw the fingernail sized Pikmin at the GM effectively killing said GM so the game doesn’t ever reach it's scheduled end. I will end this on my terms!
(4-
3) Unsure where the GM physically is, you ask the people around you. Someone suggests he must be above the sky, so you throw the Pikmin straight up. Alas, your throwing arm can't make the toss; the Pikmin stops, falls back down, lands on your face, and very slowly kills you. Your body is dragged back to the Onion, which processes it into several thousand new sprouts; the Pikmin go on to dominate the environment, rendering several local insects extinct. By 2033, they're declared an invasive species.
Give one last Sermon from the Second Volume before welcoming the Second Coming of my Lord and Savior, Dimbulb:
“ “Faeries shall shit, piss, and vomit whenever people get annoyed with hippos and order pizza with anchovies -- disgusting!” Said Hitler furiously. God smirked, and whipped up some new creations. “These things will fuck everything, like faeries do. I am entirely certain this will turn fantastic!” But really? Why would God need fuckers when fairies do it? "Dunno, ask Rogers, he's someone fairies like," said the pope, shrugging. Incredibly, this aroused the hippos and Rogers to improbable levels: they utterly destroyed Manhattan with Godzilla last testicle day. What?!! Testicle day is celebrated in Manhattan every March. During testicle day people whack their balls with golf clubs while running through churches naked, screaming “Holy moly, my testicles feel good!” This annoys the hippos because it interrupts their sermon, as they are devout followers of Hitler. Followers often go sieg-heil when masturbating to fairy porn and corpses. By dawn they are finished, grouchily couched in morgues where they gripe about He-Man's incredibly small testicles. How small are He-Man's balls? "INFINITESIMAL! HOLY TESTICULAR MACHINATIONS!", Dimbulb! Eternia's clocks chime every time Hitler gropes Dimbulb and farts rhythmically. Dimbulb hates this and so does Skeletor, assholes!!”
(3) Your audience continues to swell, the most fervent converts repeating every word after you. At some point, the mood changes; someone introduces the idea of martyrdom, and it spreads quickly. The crowd sets upon you with golf clubs, and you are quickly whacked to death! Your killers go on to be the high priests of the new religion and gain a certain mystique from the affair that only helps them win new followers. Your religion ultimately becomes the most popular in the world—but alas, you aren't alive to see it.
OH GOD I'VE FAILED TO KILL THE EVIL BABY! Guess it's ti,me to kill myself, and keep trying to kill myself until I actually die!
(2) You fail to kill yourself; luckily, someone else does it for you. The heavens appoint a new, more competent guardian angel who goes on to ensure that the baby reaches adulthood. He becomes the greatest and wickedest kung-fu master in the history of the world, personally killing several thousand people with his bare fists. From your seat in Hell, you shed a single tear.
My role is over. Diligently fill out villainous paperwork until the game ends.
(3) You don't quite make it to the end of the game before someone stabs you in the chest, killing you and totally ruining the form you were working on. By sheer happenstance, that form was an assassination dispatch targeting a whistleblower. Forgotten in the commotion, the whistleblower never does get assassinated. A few days later, they blow the lid on the whole operation. OFCG agents are hunted down in every country; scattered and broken, the organization's reign of terror is ended forever. But alas, all this comes too late: this game still ends this turn.
Press the stop button on the remote, thereby ending the game
(1+
3) You do so. The sabotaged remote shocks you to death; nevertheless, the signal goes through. And so—
This Game Has Ended
oh, and Fluffe and Quarque die toofin.
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Topic: This Game Has Ended (Read 7053 times)