After much deliberation, the villagers had decided they suspected the werepenguins had, in fact, infiltrated their group and now walked among them. However, they were not about to simply carry on with their lives and allow the werepenguins to grow comfortable. No, not these villagers.
They pulled together in a meeting by the river. Accusations flew across the group like poo in a monkey fight. Who should hang? Who are the penguins? IS IT JANE AGAIN? No! Roundy! Wait - it's that Shifter character, isn't it?
Finally, after all had made their case for whom they suspected and why, a vote was held. Shifter would hang this night. A message must be sent to the penguins. The villagers were going to destroy them, starting with their suspected mole-werepenguin. Shifter.
Not about to allow his life to simply be snuffed out like a candle at the end of its wick, Shifter began shrieking in a pitch and volume he had not exercised before. It was like an incredibly loud fossa's mating cry, paired with the sound of an infant on a plane - you know the one; the infant that doesn't yet know how to pop its ears and is in excruciating pain. Nearby glass windows shook, one or two even broke.
As he was being dragged by his hair to the gallows, he began accusing the other villagers of conspiring against him. Even those that had not voted to lynch him. Through tears and strangely high-pitched shrieks, he yelled, "THIS IS NOT THE END. YOU FUCKERS! THIS IS NOT TH....."
His words were cut off as the rope around his neck came to its end and pulled tight. Shifter twitched. He peed in his pants one last time. His life force was gone.
Shifter, the village Exorcist, hanged to death just before sunset on the eve of the first night of what would be later known as the Perth Massacre.
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Little did the villagers know, but those shrieks were actually at a frequency that was resonant with the skulls of werepenguins. 3 werepenguins also died with Shifter, their heads exploding like tiny pimples being squeezed, and a slurry of blood and brains staining the walls of the lookout tower they had claimed the previous night. However, Pebbles McWaddlebottom and Fishcakes von Peckington were not among the dead, and they were now eager to avenge their fallen brothers.
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The villagers set up camp at Greyfriar's Bar. Night would be upon them soon. This was a somber day, to say the least, and they all needed a drink to calm their nerves.