"Why am I even being voted? Every argument I've heard is just ambiguous nonsense!" Simone de Beauvoir slammed her wine glass down on the table.
"Oh I don't know, look at how nice this apartment is, full of fine wines and fancy cheese and books in French. Seems pretty bourgeoisie to me. Mark cracked his knuckles threateningly.
"I'm French you mérinos mal peigné. And the game isn't called counter-revolutionaries."
"I have a very good reason to vote for you, Simone," said Kant. "You said you were having fun earlier, but right now it seems like you've been getting frustrated. If we universalize that and everyone were to claim they were having fun and then change their minds we'd never be able to tell if anyone were having fun playing games. So we're obligated to lynch you since this can only be manipulation."
"Okay, first that's a terrible argument, and second, you can't reduce an ethical system to―"
"That's kind of a bad faith argument, don't you think, Simone? Everyone can decide on their own reasons for lynching you."
"And what are your reasons, Jean-Paul?"
"And if you say 'radical freedom' you are sleeping on the couch for a week."
Sartre cut off whatever answer he was about to give and shrugged.
"Isn't there anything I can do to change your minds?"
Epictetus stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"You cannot control the votes of others, only your own scummy reaction to the wagon."
"You could always self-hammer," Sartre chimed in.
"FINE! I'm making it my personal project to eat every last bit of camembert in the house, so there."
DatSwan in particular was lynched. Not just swans in general, but datswan. They were Simone de Beauvoir, a Vanilla Townie.
Night 2 begins now and ends February 13, 2019, 04:00:00 pm.