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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
You can discuss, make serious comments/observations, joke, take guesses who the psycho is, say what your course of action would be, right here on the thread. But please, if you KNOW you KNOW the correct answer, PM it to me, allow others a chance to discuss and guess without disclosing the answer.

The year is 2009, TSHTF three months ago in October following a 50% drop of the Dow stock exchange over a few days. There had been runs on banks all over the country and world. Bank holidays were extended. Shelves at grocery stores were barren. Looters were rampant everywhere.
A Demopublican was elected President of these United States in ’08. There was no change and no new maverick solutions. A popular Libertarian from Texas had run on the independent ticket and took only 5% of the vote. Pity.

A national healthcare program was pushed through Congress and now covers all illegal aliens, people who won’t work and everyone else without a plan. Doctors and pharmacists are handing out all kinds of new drugs left and right trying to keep up with the flood of people taking advantage of the new system, plus lining their pockets to buy cases of Scotch and renew their country club memberships and to upgrade their McMansions.

What happened in New Orleans years before was happening in every major city in the country and many other towns. Martial law was declared but there were not enough guardsmen and LEO’s to go around. Starbucks had gone out of business. They were no longer able to sell their $7 coffee with a squirt of chocolate in it. At McDonald's, a Big Mac was selling for $9. But business there and all other fast food chains was slow.

Gas when you can get it, is $9 a gallon, gold is $2400 an ounce. The Euro is worth $3.50. Toilet paper, if you can find it, is selling for 8 bucks a roll. A loaf of wheat bread is $10. It has become illegal to buy ammo. A box of black market brick (500 rounds) of 22’s goes for $100. A gallon of water is $10. But it’s a mute point because in 2 months a new currency will be introduced. The Amero will become the currency for all of North America and Mexico. Old federal notes have a window of 1 month to be traded in for the Amero. 1 Amero will equal 10 old dollars. US Congress Critters gave themselves a 100% pay increase at midnight. Teed Keenidee was drinking Maker's Mark while casting his vote.

You were on your way to you Uncle’s old cabin in eastern Kentucky and decided to hike the last one mile off road since you didn’t want to park your car too close to the cabin for fear someone might follow you. The highways were not safe. There were gangs setting up roadblocks on most major roads and interstates hijacking, robbing and killing citizens for a mere loaf of bread. Mad Max is the scenario. The only thing you have with you is a S&W 2 5/8" 8 shot Lew Horton revolver and 8 cartridges of JHP. You keep this well hidden under your shirt and jacket in the small of your back. It is 33 degrees outside and dropping fast. Tonight there is a snow storm coming. It is supposed to snow about a foot of snow.

Your uncle had called you on a land line and told you that two other men would be at the cabin and that they were harmless and would spend some time there. Both men didn’t actually know your uncle but they were friends of a friend of a friend. He didn’t know their names but heard they were “ok”. The land line had gone dead before he could describe them, as told to him. There was no way of getting back in touch with your uncle and you had to hurry to get to the cabin as the harsh winter storm was moving in fast.

Inside the cabin are already THREE men. One you will call the Holy man. The second you will call the Banker. The third you come to know as the Marine.

The cabin they’d found was well stocked. Plenty of rice, flour, beans, matches, wood for the wood burning stove, a hand pumped water well that fed the 200 square foot cabin, freeze dried cans of numerous foods, vitamins, toilet paper, two double bunk beds and a couch. Your uncle had planned ahead and was prepared. There was even an outhouse 30 yards from the cabin.

On the way to your cabin, you heard on the radio that there was an escaped convict in the area who was unarmed but dangerous. All guards at this minimum security prison had abandoned their posts, somehow the electricity was shut off and all prisoners were free. This particular inmate was from this county. He was a psychopath, a killer, a pathological liar and is deviously clever.

You told the men that only two had permission to be there, per his uncle, and decided to have each man tell a little about themselves and how they got here. Here is each man’s story.

The Marine: Hello gentlemen. My name is Roy Walker. I was only 14 years old when there was some big concert named Woodstock. I snuck in to that big party because I was a rebel with nothing else to do at the time. I saw Janice Joplin, Hendrix, Creedance Clearwater, Joan Baez, the Grateful Dead and several other bands or singers doing their thing. Four years later I turned 18 and was classified A1 by the draft board. My lottery number turned out to be 45 so it looked like I would be drafted. I decided to join the Marines though, so I could choose my own outfit. It turned out they discontinued the draft that year shortly after getting my lottery number, so I wouldn’t be drafted after all. But I still wanted to be a United States Marine. So that August I signed up.

Did my basic training and qualified as an expert marksman. They said I’d make a good sniper so I tried out and made it. Ironically the same year I was at Woodstock with all the hippies, a famous Marine sniper had his career cut short. His name was Gunny Sgt. Hathcock, the Marines’ #1 sniper, with 93 confirmed hits and perhaps close to 400 unconfirmed. His favorite rifles were his 30/06 and 50 calibers. His career was shortened because the Gunny Sgt. was badly burned while saving several of his fellow Marines in an armored personnel carrier fire. He should have gotten the CMH for this but didn’t. He just got the silver star. The year I made it as a sniper, Sgt. Hathcock trained me. A couple years later he retired. Hatchcock was a god to us and we all immensely respected him.

My Father had gotten the purple heart in WWII for getting his middle finger shot off. He also of course had the ruptured duck. This is what they called their honorable discharge medal back then. It was an eagle, but looked like a duck to some. When I was 17 years old, the year before signing up for the Marines, I got my same middle finger cut off in an accident. They were able to sew it back on, unlike my Father’s. The war in ‘Nam was over so my skills weren’t needed.

I left after 4 years of active duty and came back to civilian life and decided to become a pilot. ( you noticed this man was pretty well built, slim and had a short haircut with no sideburns. He had a tattoo of wolf tracks on his upper right arm, you could see under his white shirt. He carried a Leatherman multitool on his right side.) I took flying lessons, memorized the multiple choice answers on the written exam, made a 90%, and got my fixed wing pilot license in 7 weeks. I’d learned on a little Cessna 150. I moved to Alaska in the late 70’s and became a bush pilot, flying a Piper Cub, for close to 30 years. (you thought this odd, for the man looked only about 40 years old) After all those years of flying, I know I was very lucky. It was a dangerous career. The pay was low, conditions bad and it wasn’t anywhere as glamorous as many thought. But I loved the freedom.

I happened to be visiting my kin here when TSHTF. A friend of a friend of my uncle told me about his cabin here so I came here yesterday to winter out. (the Marine refused to take sleep in the bunk. He took the couch.)

The Holy Man: My name is Dr. Alfred Swan Packer the Fourth. For the past 20 years I have been a Dean of a college and the chaplain for this same college. Back in ’89, due to circumstances beyond my control, I had to resign my post as Academic Dean. My best friend, the chaplain at that time, Bro. Love, also had to resign due to some involvement with one of the ball girls, so I took over his position as chaplain of the college. I am also a Colonel in the army reserves. (you noticed that this man walked around with a limp, always had this thin smile on his lips, projected a humble demeanor and had a glass eye. He never stopped smiling.)

My great grandfather was also named Alfred Packer who lived out west in the Rocky Mountains. A few years after the Civil War, he led several gold prospectors up into the mountains to search for gold. They all ran out of food and a fierce snowstorm moved in on them. A couple months later, my great grandfather came down out of the mountains alone. Later he was accused of killing and eating all the men and stealing their gold. He got drunk and was gambling with a lot of money when he came into town. As the judge was giving the verdict at Packer’s trial, he said this, “Packer, there were only 7 Democrats in this county, and you ate 5 of them. Guilty as charged” My great grandfather spent most of the rest of his years in prison. He had fathered a child out of wedlock, but told the woman to name the boy Alfred Packer Jr. She did. This woman raised the boy, my grandfather, who later lived with a woman and they conceived a child.

They decided to marry the next month. The next day, my grandfather blew his brains out complaining of hearing voices in his head, at age 44. The little boy was retarded and was raised by my grandmother. He was named Alfred Packer III. But at age 22, some local farmers accused him of stealing their cattle and had the local sheriff arrest him. He was put in a jail for many years but was treated like an animal. My grandmother came for him after he was let out. But she was getting old and couldn’t care for her retarded son. Thus she chained him up out in the back shed. For 12 years he stayed chained and his hair grew long. He slept and lived in his own wastes and didn’t see daylight for 12 years. Word got around about this wild man chained in a shed and the local sheriff came to investigate and let the man out. He was taken back to a state hospital, given a haircut and a bath. One night, the lonely nurse that had given him the bath, sneaked into his room and had carnal knowledge with him. A child was conceived. That child was me. I was later given the name of Alfred Packer IV. My father passed away when I was three.

I am quite proud of how far I have come and all the things I have accomplished, given my family’s background.

I was driving to visit my son, Alfred Packer the Fifth, who just graduated from my college. He was a psych major intending to go into politics. (heh) His mother was a woman I'd baptized at the chapel at my college. Later that same night, she came to me and said she was full of the Spirit and wanted to thank me. Our son was born 9 months later, but the woman left him at my office door and left the county never to be seen again.

I was also going to take charge of the National Guard in that town, when my truck ran out of gas. I was told by someone in town that he had a cabin near where I was and that I could stay here any time I wanted. I decided to take him up on his offer and started walking from the highway. I knew I was close but decided to sleep in a little boat I found by a lake. The lake was in a valley, fed by many creeks, surrounded by mountains, and I would hike the rest of the way the next day. During the late afternoon it began to rain hard. Out on the lake I noticed a small houseboat with a rope ladder hanging over the edge with 4 rungs showing. The next morning I was awakened by water lapping at my little boat. The water level of the lake had risen about 3 feet over night. Sure enough, as I looked at the houseboat, there was only one rung showing. I noticed a strange flag on top of the boat. It was a coiled snake. The flag was yellow.

Turned out I was only a quarter mile from this cabin. And here I am. (you noticed the Holy Man was wearing black dress pants and shoes, but they were a bit worn and wrinkled. He appeared to be in his early 60’s. He requested that everyone there address him as Doctor, Reverend or Colonel.)



The Banker: My story is simple. My name is R. A. Flowers. I was President of a private bank here in Kentucky in my hometown. When I was a young man I saw many $500 and $1000 bills. Then I went to Las Vegas and saw a bunch of $10,000 bills at some small very old casino down town. This impressed me and I was determined to become a banker. (he had a tattoo of a $ sign on his left and right hands) After many years as a loan officer, I became the VP of the bank and then President.

Due to mortgage failures, our bank shut down and filed bankruptcy. All our investors lost everything. I grabbed a few things at my office and having no gas, decided to just walk to visit my daughter in the neighboring town 6 miles away. A friend of a friend said he had a cabin about halfway between where I was headed, and that I could stay there as long as I wanted. So I decided to stay here a few days before moving on. Two days ago I walked for 1 mile, along with my bag of necessities here. (he pointed to his black leather bag, the size of a gym bag) Yesterday I got a ride from a farmer I knew. There are so many counties in Ky, 120 in all, and each county has a county seat, typically only 5-20 miles away, so I knew I wouldn’t have to walk far. (you noticed this man had a pot belly and didn’t look to be in good shape. He was wearing some Nike tennis shoes. He was a short man only about 5’ 6”. He had already helped himself to the whiskey he found in the cabin as you could smell it on him.) Here, want a shot of good whiskey? This is Old Whiskey River, made in Kentucky. It's the smoothest bourbon made. I like what Mark Twain said "too much bourbon is not quite enough"

I pride himself on my knowledge of many things. ( this you could tell as he kept talking about anything and everything.) I remember back in the early 60’s of a winter where it got down to 30 below zero, without the wind chill.

I finally made it here last night and sure was glad of it. I was dog tired. In the middle of the night I had to use the outhouse and found 4 rolls of toilet paper there. And here I am. (He never left the black leather bag out of his sight.) Here, let's have another shot of whiskey.




That evening all four of you ate MRE’s since no one wanted to cook. You all had jambalaya, beans and rice along with crackers and cheese. It had started snowing and snowing hard. Sometime later at night, the Banker went to the outhouse. He of course took his black bag with him. You noticed when YOU went that there was one whole roll of toilet paper missing. Dr. Colonel Holy Man went to the outhouse next and stayed for 30 minutes. The marine sat over in the corner sharpening the blade on his LeatherMan with a wet stone he’d found in the cabin.

Ok. The one imposter, the psychopath, intends to kill all of you tonight while you sleep tonight. But he slipped up and told a blatant lie in his story.

What was his lie and who is the imposter/psychopath escaped convict who didn’t get invited to the cabin? And what should your course of action be? Remember you have a revolver with 8 cartridges. What would your advice be and would you survive the night?
 

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If I was not the psycho,Shoot all of them to play it safe and have more food.:D:
If I needed to choose a suspect it would be the Banker. Unless he has dress shoes in that bag, It would be strange that he's wearing tennis shoes, Is his Tats prison type?
Could always fake sleep and see who makes a move.
 

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Psalm 34:4
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The Marine lied. I would Shoot him, then shoot the priest because he makes me nervous, and of course shoot the banker because, well I was always told to never trust a banker.

But seriously, the Marine lied, shoot him first.
 

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Knocked Down But Up Again
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I'm betting that the banker was the impostor. Bankers tend to be very image conscious and conservative. I can't imagine that a real banker would have a visible tattoo, let alone two of them in very conspicuous places.

Also, is there really such think as a $10K bill? And what is in that black bag that is so important?

When will we find out the answer?
 

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I am going to say this, and I hope it doesn't offend anyone... on second thought, I will say the PC thing.

I would ask someone to take first watch. I would leave my pistol on the table and I would ask who would be taking it. The man who volunteers first, and with the most enthusiasim is probably the killer. Tell them that they would not be taking but one watch, and they would have to stay awake all night. This makes it even worse, so if anyone accepted it, then he again might be the killer.

Now I would have taken the powder out of the bullets or clogged the barrel. When he shoots me or us, then he will be in for a surprise.
 

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My other answer involves water boarding... details would offend.
 

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Guardian of Liberty
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My .02

These bills were last printed in 1934, these $500.00, $1000.00 and $10,000 bills are not easy to find. These bills were never made for circulation, they were ONLY meant for transactions between banks.
 

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Discussion Starter · #15 ·
Good plan Crutch.

Cupid PM's me this and here was my reply:

Originally Posted by cupid0311
The banker is the liar. His lie is about seeing "a lot" of $500, $1000 and $10,000 bills. These bills were last printed in 1934, these $500.00, $1000.00 and $10,000 bills are not easy to find. These bills were never made for circulation, they were ONLY meant for transactions between banks. since it is rare to find even a single bill it is almost impossible for him to have seen a bunch at the same time while while at some old casinos.

AJ: Close but no cigar. He meant that he'd seen a lot of those bills in his life. (tho i didn't say that) When a kid, i saw some $500 and $1000 bills in circulation. Rare, you're right. Maybe on 2nd thought, what i saw were NOT in circulation but just shown to me. I don't know. My Uncle showed them to me... but then, once he sold me a "Silver" dollar made out of lead.

At the HorseShoe Casino downtown, they used to have a display of 100 $10,000 bills, thus a million bucks. I saw them in the 80's. They have since been taken down. Wonder why?
 

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The key here is this. The killer wont reveal himself unless he is confident that he can't loose, or is about to kill someone. So provide it. I know the point of this is to find the lie, and shoot the killer, but people lie all the time. A lie isn't proof, nor should a man die for it. Instead KNOW who the killer is. Then kill him. Here is how.

First off, tell the guys they are guests, and that you will decide what happens in your house. Be assertive and even an Jerk about it. Brag about being the toughest guy in the world, and how you have seen things that would make any of them wake up with nightmares. This does two things, but we will get to that latter. Now Mr. Alpha male, your going to get the only bunk and tell the guys they have to sleep on cots. Set the cots in the living room by the big window. Boy your a real jerk. So it seems. Mr. Arrogant, selfish, and stupid. I am the perfect victim. *motive*

Now you have to find a reason to leave, as to set up the killer. Tell the guys this.
"Guys I have to go get my car. It over heated on the way here and I had to trek all this way to get the water. With the heavy temperature drop, the bottles and cans of food will bust so I have to do it now."
"I will be back in the morning, no sleeping on my bed, you guys have lice..."

***Take a gas can and tell them your car was loaded down with supplies and so it over heated. Fill the can with water and leave. Wait for the killer to make his move and shoot him through the window. ***

*opportunity*

Two things will happen. Either A the killer will want to "show you what nightmares are made of", or follow you later to kill you. Either way, he is dead. Distance your self behind the out house, (only 30 yards away) as to be sure and not kill someone who may just have to poop.

*Ability*

Now if they are good men, then they will do as told, sleep on the cot, and not get up and leave the house. If they are dead men, then they slept in my bed, and let the killer kill them where I can't see them. Or if they are the killer and they have a ego to cure, they will enjoy the perfect crime. Either way, the killer believes he has 1) oppertunity 2) motive 3) ability. So he thinks anyways, and you have set your trap and will probably find yourself, explaining why/how you shot the guy holding a knife over the marine.

I hate to use them as bait, as I personally like the guy who smiles to much. Religious people are excellent guests, I love a fellow soldier, and I in real life am a buisness man who is also suffering in the housing market. I can relate to them all... on the other hand, I can kill them just the same. Maybe I'm the killer....

Is this in my head...did you hear that? Who are you? What do you want from me? Oh Gods, there every where, the blood, it sticks to my hands, make it stop, daddy no, make it stop! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hehe
 
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Okay, here it goes (I think).

It doesnt matter what their stories are.

One of these guys is a pathological liar. He will never tell you the truth. Make sure each man in unarmed, take each aside one at a time after their stories and ask him a double negative question such as:

If I had asked you during your story if you were telling me the truth, what would you have said?

The liar would have to lie about what he would have told you during his story, so now he has to say he lied because earlier he would have to say it was the truth to fool you with a pathological lie.

There ya have it.

On a more cheerful note, I might kill them all just because its gonna be a long winter ;) (Just kidding)
 
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