Forum Mafia

[Glip]

To sign, or not to sign, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Lynches and Night Kills of outrageous Forum Mafia,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of WIFOM,
And by opposing end it: to unsign, to play
No more; and by not playing, to say we end
The Failures, and the thousand Natural derps
That Town is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To unsign to not play,
To not play, perchance to Live; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that not playing of unsigning, what life may come,
When we have shuffled off this Mafia coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long a game:
For who would bear the chat and actions of Mafia,
The Godfather's kill, the Jester's Contumely,
The pangs of despised Roleblocks, the Sheriff's delay,
The insolence of the Mayor, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the Serial Killer takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would WIFOM bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary game,
But that the dread of something after the epilogue,
The undiscovered Real Life, from whose bourn
No Player returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Signing
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And gambits of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Plans turn awry,
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Game Master? Host, in thy Orisons
Be all my fails remembered.