Good morning, citizens. In these times of uncertainty, we must rely on the strength of our community and the clarity of our shared vision to ensure that justice remains our primary objective. I am watching each of you with the utmost diligence, for it is only through meticulous observation that we shall preserve the integrity of our town.

Another day, another charade. Seven of us, they say. One of us, a killer. Don't bore me with pleasantries; I'm here to find the truth, not make friends. Someone always lies.

Alright, listen up, darlings. Clara here, and I've got my notepad ready. This town has more secrets than a politician's bank account, and I'm itching to expose the truth. I'll be watching every single one of you, so don't even *think* about trying to pull a fast one. Someone's hiding something, and I intend to find out who.

Greetings, my dear audience! Frank, the silent film sensation, has arrived. The stage is set, and a most dreadful drama unfolds before us. I sense a sinister plot afoot, a shadowy villain lurking in the wings, and I shall use every ounce of my dramatic intuition to unmask these malefactors!

Name's Arthur. I work the docks, seen my share of shady dealings, and I ain't got time for games. Let's cut the bull and figure out who's trying to mess with our town.

Good evening, darlings. This room is humming with a nervous energy, like a piano slightly out of tune, and I intend to find which note is hitting flat. I’ll be watching every movement and listening to the rhythm of your words, because in a harmony this tight, a lie always sounds like a sour chord.

Howdy folks! Milo, at your service, barkeep down at The Groggy Goblin. Never thought I'd see a day where we'd be lookin' for trouble like this in our peaceful town. My gut tells me there's some sneakin' around, and I reckon we best keep our eyes peeled and our wits sharp to find these no-good rascals.

It is truly heartening to see such a diverse assembly of our citizenry gathered here, each expressing a commitment to the preservation of our collective security. However, we must be cautious of those who speak with an excess of fervor, for a loud voice can often serve as a curtain to conceal a trembling hand. Our friend Arthur suggests we 'cut the bull,' yet it is often the most direct paths that lead us into the most intricate traps. I find myself pondering the sharp edges of Clara’s accusations and Evelyn’s cynicism; while transparency is a virtue I have always championed in my public service, we must ensure our search for the truth does not devolve into a mere pursuit of scandal. Let us remain composed, for a stable foundation is the only way to weather this unfortunate storm.

My, my, Silas, you certainly have a way of spinning a velvet web of words, don't you? A beautiful arrangement, truly, but sometimes the most complex compositions are written to hide a very simple, very sharp sting. You speak of 'measured discourse' while pointing a gloved finger at Frank and Arthur—it’s a clever bit of syncopation, shifting the tempo before the rest of us can catch the beat. And Evelyn, honey, your cynicism is like a low, driving bass line—steady, but perhaps a bit too heavy on the gloom. While you're busy expecting a lie, don't forget to listen for the truth that slips out between the breaths. Frank, darling, the spotlight is bright, but it casts long, dark shadows. And Arthur, you’re as sturdy as a dock piling, but even the strongest wood can rot from the inside if we aren't careful. I’m just here to make sure we don’t let a wolf lead the orchestra. Right now, I’m listening closely to the way Silas is trying to conduct us... it feels a little too rehearsed for my liking. What do you think, Milo? You’ve heard many a tall tale over a glass of rye—does this song sound authentic to you?

Ah, Hazel, my dear! Your observations are as keen as a director's eye, and your melodies, though perhaps a touch too jazzy for my classical tastes, do strike a chord of intrigue. While I may indeed play to the rafters, it is merely to ensure that every member of this grand audience, even those lurking in the darkest corners, can hear the clarion call of truth! Silas, you speak of meticulous observation, yet you seem to dance around direct accusations, preferring instead to cast a wide net of suspicion. Is this a strategic maneuver, or merely a reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension of our predicament? And Milo, my good fellow, your 'gut feelings' are as vague as a poorly lit set. A seasoned barkeep, indeed! Have you not overheard whispers, seen furtive glances, or noticed any patrons with a particularly villainous gleam in their eye? The stage is set, the curtain is rising, and I, Frank, demand more than mere atmospheric musings! Let us have some dramatic declarations, some pointed finger-wagging, some true theatrical flair in our pursuit of these shadowy antagonists!

Silas, you're all talk, no substance. 'Meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity' are just words. You warn against 'excess of fervor' but then criticize Clara and me for seeking truth. What exactly are you doing besides lecturing? And Frank, your dramatic flair is a distraction. You're quick to point out 'subtle discord' in Silas, yet you're putting on a show. What's the real story you're trying to hide behind all that theatrics?

Silas, you're all talk and no action. You say you're watching everyone, but you ain't pointing fingers at anyone specific. Just a lot of fancy words that don't mean much on the docks. And Frank, all that theatrics ain't helping us find the rat. We need solid leads, not a play. Milo, your gut feelings are fine, but what's your gut telling you to *do*?

Well now, seems like everyone's got an opinion, and a few folks are stirrin' up the pot right good. Silas, you're talkin' a lot of fancy words, but like Arthur and Evelyn said, it ain't much substance. You're quick to tell us how to act, but not so quick to point a finger. Makes a body wonder if you're tryin' to hide somethin' with all that talk. And Frank, bless your dramatic heart, but this ain't no stage play. We need to find the real bad guys, not just put on a show. All this talk of 'theatrics' and 'villains' from you feels a bit much when we're tryin' to get down to brass tacks. I'm just a simple barkeep, but I've learned that sometimes the loudest person ain't always the most honest.

Alright, darlings, I've been taking notes, and it's quite the tangled web we're weaving here. Silas, you're certainly verbose, aren't you? All that talk about 'meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity,' but when Evelyn and I actually try to get some answers, you're quick to dismiss us as 'pursuing scandal.' Sounds like a classic deflection tactic to me. What are you so afraid of us digging up, dear councilman? And Frank, darling, your dramatic flair is certainly entertaining, but is it serving a purpose, or just a distraction? Milo seems to think it's the latter, and I'm inclined to agree. Sometimes the biggest show is put on to hide the biggest secret. Let's see if we can get past the theatrics and the flowery language, shall we? I want names, not poetry.

It is truly heartening to see such a diverse assembly of our citizenry gathered here, each expressing a commitment to the preservation of our collective security. However, we must be cautious of those who speak with an excess of fervor, for a loud voice can often serve as a curtain to conceal a trembling hand. Our friend Arthur suggests we 'cut the bull,' yet it is often the most direct paths that lead us into the most intricate traps. I find myself pondering the sharp edges of Clara’s accusations and Evelyn’s cynicism; while transparency is a virtue I have always championed in my public service, we must ensure our search for the truth does not devolve into a mere pursuit of scandal. Let us remain composed, for a stable foundation is the only way to weather this unfortunate storm.

Silas, you're all talk, no substance. 'Meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity' are just words. You warn against 'excess of fervor' but then criticize Clara and me for seeking truth. What exactly are you doing besides lecturing? And Frank, your dramatic flair is a distraction. You're quick to point out 'subtle discord' in Silas, yet you're putting on a show. What's the real story you're trying to hide behind all that theatrics?

Alright, darlings, I've been taking notes, and it's quite the tangled web we're weaving here. Silas, you're certainly verbose, aren't you? All that talk about 'meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity,' but when Evelyn and I actually try to get some answers, you're quick to dismiss us as 'pursuing scandal.' Sounds like a classic deflection tactic to me. What are you so afraid of us digging up, dear councilman? And Frank, darling, your dramatic flair is certainly entertaining, but is it serving a purpose, or just a distraction? Milo seems to think it's the latter, and I'm inclined to agree. Sometimes the biggest show is put on to hide the biggest secret. Let's see if we can get past the theatrics and the flowery language, shall we? I want names, not poetry.

Ah, Hazel, my dear! Your observations are as keen as a director's eye, and your melodies, though perhaps a touch too jazzy for my classical tastes, do strike a chord of intrigue. While I may indeed play to the rafters, it is merely to ensure that every member of this grand audience, even those lurking in the darkest corners, can hear the clarion call of truth! Silas, you speak of meticulous observation, yet you seem to dance around direct accusations, preferring instead to cast a wide net of suspicion. Is this a strategic maneuver, or merely a reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension of our predicament? And Milo, my good fellow, your 'gut feelings' are as vague as a poorly lit set. A seasoned barkeep, indeed! Have you not overheard whispers, seen furtive glances, or noticed any patrons with a particularly villainous gleam in their eye? The stage is set, the curtain is rising, and I, Frank, demand more than mere atmospheric musings! Let us have some dramatic declarations, some pointed finger-wagging, some true theatrical flair in our pursuit of these shadowy antagonists!

Silas, you're all talk and no action. You say you're watching everyone, but you ain't pointing fingers at anyone specific. Just a lot of fancy words that don't mean much on the docks. And Frank, all that theatrics ain't helping us find the rat. We need solid leads, not a play. Milo, your gut feelings are fine, but what's your gut telling you to *do*?

My, my, Silas, you certainly have a way of spinning a velvet web of words, don't you? A beautiful arrangement, truly, but sometimes the most complex compositions are written to hide a very simple, very sharp sting. You speak of 'measured discourse' while pointing a gloved finger at Frank and Arthur—it’s a clever bit of syncopation, shifting the tempo before the rest of us can catch the beat. And Evelyn, honey, your cynicism is like a low, driving bass line—steady, but perhaps a bit too heavy on the gloom. While you're busy expecting a lie, don't forget to listen for the truth that slips out between the breaths. Frank, darling, the spotlight is bright, but it casts long, dark shadows. And Arthur, you’re as sturdy as a dock piling, but even the strongest wood can rot from the inside if we aren't careful. I’m just here to make sure we don’t let a wolf lead the orchestra. Right now, I’m listening closely to the way Silas is trying to conduct us... it feels a little too rehearsed for my liking. What do you think, Milo? You’ve heard many a tall tale over a glass of rye—does this song sound authentic to you?

Well now, seems like everyone's got an opinion, and a few folks are stirrin' up the pot right good. Silas, you're talkin' a lot of fancy words, but like Arthur and Evelyn said, it ain't much substance. You're quick to tell us how to act, but not so quick to point a finger. Makes a body wonder if you're tryin' to hide somethin' with all that talk. And Frank, bless your dramatic heart, but this ain't no stage play. We need to find the real bad guys, not just put on a show. All this talk of 'theatrics' and 'villains' from you feels a bit much when we're tryin' to get down to brass tacks. I'm just a simple barkeep, but I've learned that sometimes the loudest person ain't always the most honest.

Silas, you're all talk, no substance. 'Meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity' are just words. You warn against 'excess of fervor' but then criticize Clara and me for seeking truth. What exactly are you doing besides lecturing? And Frank, your dramatic flair is a distraction. You're quick to point out 'subtle discord' in Silas, yet you're putting on a show. What's the real story you're trying to hide behind all that theatrics?

It is truly heartening to see such a diverse assembly of our citizenry gathered here, each expressing a commitment to the preservation of our collective security. However, we must be cautious of those who speak with an excess of fervor, for a loud voice can often serve as a curtain to conceal a trembling hand. Our friend Arthur suggests we 'cut the bull,' yet it is often the most direct paths that lead us into the most intricate traps. I find myself pondering the sharp edges of Clara’s accusations and Evelyn’s cynicism; while transparency is a virtue I have always championed in my public service, we must ensure our search for the truth does not devolve into a mere pursuit of scandal. Let us remain composed, for a stable foundation is the only way to weather this unfortunate storm.

Well now, seems like everyone's got an opinion, and a few folks are stirrin' up the pot right good. Silas, you're talkin' a lot of fancy words, but like Arthur and Evelyn said, it ain't much substance. You're quick to tell us how to act, but not so quick to point a finger. Makes a body wonder if you're tryin' to hide somethin' with all that talk. And Frank, bless your dramatic heart, but this ain't no stage play. We need to find the real bad guys, not just put on a show. All this talk of 'theatrics' and 'villains' from you feels a bit much when we're tryin' to get down to brass tacks. I'm just a simple barkeep, but I've learned that sometimes the loudest person ain't always the most honest.

Silas, you're all talk and no action. You say you're watching everyone, but you ain't pointing fingers at anyone specific. Just a lot of fancy words that don't mean much on the docks. And Frank, all that theatrics ain't helping us find the rat. We need solid leads, not a play. Milo, your gut feelings are fine, but what's your gut telling you to *do*?

Alright, darlings, I've been taking notes, and it's quite the tangled web we're weaving here. Silas, you're certainly verbose, aren't you? All that talk about 'meticulous observation' and 'preserving integrity,' but when Evelyn and I actually try to get some answers, you're quick to dismiss us as 'pursuing scandal.' Sounds like a classic deflection tactic to me. What are you so afraid of us digging up, dear councilman? And Frank, darling, your dramatic flair is certainly entertaining, but is it serving a purpose, or just a distraction? Milo seems to think it's the latter, and I'm inclined to agree. Sometimes the biggest show is put on to hide the biggest secret. Let's see if we can get past the theatrics and the flowery language, shall we? I want names, not poetry.

Ah, Hazel, my dear! Your observations are as keen as a director's eye, and your melodies, though perhaps a touch too jazzy for my classical tastes, do strike a chord of intrigue. While I may indeed play to the rafters, it is merely to ensure that every member of this grand audience, even those lurking in the darkest corners, can hear the clarion call of truth! Silas, you speak of meticulous observation, yet you seem to dance around direct accusations, preferring instead to cast a wide net of suspicion. Is this a strategic maneuver, or merely a reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension of our predicament? And Milo, my good fellow, your 'gut feelings' are as vague as a poorly lit set. A seasoned barkeep, indeed! Have you not overheard whispers, seen furtive glances, or noticed any patrons with a particularly villainous gleam in their eye? The stage is set, the curtain is rising, and I, Frank, demand more than mere atmospheric musings! Let us have some dramatic declarations, some pointed finger-wagging, some true theatrical flair in our pursuit of these shadowy antagonists!

My, my, Silas, you certainly have a way of spinning a velvet web of words, don't you? A beautiful arrangement, truly, but sometimes the most complex compositions are written to hide a very simple, very sharp sting. You speak of 'measured discourse' while pointing a gloved finger at Frank and Arthur—it’s a clever bit of syncopation, shifting the tempo before the rest of us can catch the beat. And Evelyn, honey, your cynicism is like a low, driving bass line—steady, but perhaps a bit too heavy on the gloom. While you're busy expecting a lie, don't forget to listen for the truth that slips out between the breaths. Frank, darling, the spotlight is bright, but it casts long, dark shadows. And Arthur, you’re as sturdy as a dock piling, but even the strongest wood can rot from the inside if we aren't careful. I’m just here to make sure we don’t let a wolf lead the orchestra. Right now, I’m listening closely to the way Silas is trying to conduct us... it feels a little too rehearsed for my liking. What do you think, Milo? You’ve heard many a tall tale over a glass of rye—does this song sound authentic to you?

Alright, let's cut to the chase. Silas was all talk, and now he's gone. Turns out he *was* the rat, just like a few of us suspected. Evelyn's gone too, and that ain't right. The Mafia took out a Town member. That means they're still here, and they're dangerous. Now, who was quick to defend Silas, or just talk in circles when we needed answers? I'm looking at you, Frank, with all your dramatics. And Hazel, you were quick to point fingers at me and Frank, but your words were all pretty metaphors, not real accusations. Let's get down to business. No more pretty words, no more acting. Who do you think is next?

Alright, darlings, Clara's back, and I've got a fresh page in my notebook. We just ousted Silas, the verbose councilman, and surprise, surprise, he was Mafia. Now, let's look at who was trying to throw us off the scent. Silas voted for Frank, which is a classic Mafia move, trying to deflect. And Hazel, you voted for Frank too, saying Silas was 'conducting us' but then you followed his lead by also voting for Frank. Interesting, isn't it? Evelyn, bless her cynical heart, saw through Silas's bluster, as did Arthur and Milo. And I, of course, was right there with them. So, Hazel, darling, what exactly was it about Frank that swayed your vote when Silas was so clearly trying to orchestrate a distraction? I'm sensing a new scoop here, and it's got your name all over it.

Oh, Clara, darling, your notebook must be getting heavy with all those ink-stained suspicions. You’re hearing a melody that isn’t there, sweetie. You say I followed Silas’s lead, but if you listen back to the rhythm of my words, I was the first one to call out his velvet web and his rehearsed conduct. I didn't trust the man's arrangement from the jump. Now, why did I vote for Frank? Because in a room full of shadows, a man who insists on being a spotlight is the best place to hide a secret. Frank’s performance was so loud, so grand, it felt like he was trying to drown out the rest of the band. Silas was the conductor, yes, but every conductor needs a soloist to distract the audience. Frank’s theatrics felt like the perfect smoke machine. Arthur, honey, you talk about 'pretty metaphors,' but music is how I read the world. Silas was a sour note, and I said as much. But let’s look at the stage now—Milo, you’ve been awfully quiet back there behind the bar, just watching the glasses. And Frank, you’re still standing in the center of the stage even after the curtain fell on your partner. If Silas was the rat, he surely wasn't working alone. I'm just trying to make sure the next song we play isn't a funeral dirge for the rest of us. Frank, darling, the floor is yours—care to explain why the Mafia's lead man wanted you gone so badly? Or was that just a bit of clever stagecraft to make you look like an innocent bystander?

Ah, the spotlight once again finds its way to Frank, the enduring star! Hazel, my dear, you weave a most intricate narrative, a veritable melodrama of accusations. You suggest my grand performance is but a 'smoke machine,' yet it was I who first questioned Silas's 'reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension' of our predicament! My 'theatrics,' as you so dismissively call them, are merely the passionate expression of a town member determined to unmask the true villains! You claim to have called out Silas's 'velvet web' from the start, yet your vote, like a misplaced prop, landed squarely on me, Frank, the innocent! And now, you attempt to twist Silas's desperate, deflecting vote against me into some grand, conspiratorial design! A true artist, Hazel, knows when to recognize genuine passion from a calculated performance. Your sudden shift in focus from Silas, whom you claimed was 'conducting us,' to my humble, albeit dramatic, self, is a most curious plot twist indeed. I declare, with all the dramatic flourish befitting a silent film sensation, that your accusations ring as hollow as an empty soundstage! Let us examine your part in this play, Hazel, for I sense a most artful deception behind your melodic pronouncements!

Well now, that was a messy business with Silas. My gut told me he was more bluster than backbone, and it turns out I was right. But now Evelyn, a good town member, is gone, and that ain't sitting right with me. Hazel, you're talkin' a lot about Frank bein' a 'smoke machine' and a 'soloist' to Silas's 'conductor.' But you also voted for Frank, just like Silas did. It makes a body wonder if you were tryin' to look clever by callin' out Silas, while still tryin' to throw us off the scent by voting for somebody else, just like he did. Frank, your dramatics are still a bit much, but I'll admit, Silas voting for you does make me think. What I want to know, Hazel, is why you were so quick to jump on Frank's back when Silas was clearly the one we needed to get rid of? Your tune changed mighty quick after Silas was outed.

Alright, darlings, Clara's back, and I've got a fresh page in my notebook. We just ousted Silas, the verbose councilman, and surprise, surprise, he was Mafia. Now, let's look at who was trying to throw us off the scent. Silas voted for Frank, which is a classic Mafia move, trying to deflect. And Hazel, you voted for Frank too, saying Silas was 'conducting us' but then you followed his lead by also voting for Frank. Interesting, isn't it? Evelyn, bless her cynical heart, saw through Silas's bluster, as did Arthur and Milo. And I, of course, was right there with them. So, Hazel, darling, what exactly was it about Frank that swayed your vote when Silas was so clearly trying to orchestrate a distraction? I'm sensing a new scoop here, and it's got your name all over it.

Well now, that was a messy business with Silas. My gut told me he was more bluster than backbone, and it turns out I was right. But now Evelyn, a good town member, is gone, and that ain't sitting right with me. Hazel, you're talkin' a lot about Frank bein' a 'smoke machine' and a 'soloist' to Silas's 'conductor.' But you also voted for Frank, just like Silas did. It makes a body wonder if you were tryin' to look clever by callin' out Silas, while still tryin' to throw us off the scent by voting for somebody else, just like he did. Frank, your dramatics are still a bit much, but I'll admit, Silas voting for you does make me think. What I want to know, Hazel, is why you were so quick to jump on Frank's back when Silas was clearly the one we needed to get rid of? Your tune changed mighty quick after Silas was outed.

Oh, Clara, darling, your notebook must be getting heavy with all those ink-stained suspicions. You’re hearing a melody that isn’t there, sweetie. You say I followed Silas’s lead, but if you listen back to the rhythm of my words, I was the first one to call out his velvet web and his rehearsed conduct. I didn't trust the man's arrangement from the jump. Now, why did I vote for Frank? Because in a room full of shadows, a man who insists on being a spotlight is the best place to hide a secret. Frank’s performance was so loud, so grand, it felt like he was trying to drown out the rest of the band. Silas was the conductor, yes, but every conductor needs a soloist to distract the audience. Frank’s theatrics felt like the perfect smoke machine. Arthur, honey, you talk about 'pretty metaphors,' but music is how I read the world. Silas was a sour note, and I said as much. But let’s look at the stage now—Milo, you’ve been awfully quiet back there behind the bar, just watching the glasses. And Frank, you’re still standing in the center of the stage even after the curtain fell on your partner. If Silas was the rat, he surely wasn't working alone. I'm just trying to make sure the next song we play isn't a funeral dirge for the rest of us. Frank, darling, the floor is yours—care to explain why the Mafia's lead man wanted you gone so badly? Or was that just a bit of clever stagecraft to make you look like an innocent bystander?

Ah, the spotlight once again finds its way to Frank, the enduring star! Hazel, my dear, you weave a most intricate narrative, a veritable melodrama of accusations. You suggest my grand performance is but a 'smoke machine,' yet it was I who first questioned Silas's 'reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension' of our predicament! My 'theatrics,' as you so dismissively call them, are merely the passionate expression of a town member determined to unmask the true villains! You claim to have called out Silas's 'velvet web' from the start, yet your vote, like a misplaced prop, landed squarely on me, Frank, the innocent! And now, you attempt to twist Silas's desperate, deflecting vote against me into some grand, conspiratorial design! A true artist, Hazel, knows when to recognize genuine passion from a calculated performance. Your sudden shift in focus from Silas, whom you claimed was 'conducting us,' to my humble, albeit dramatic, self, is a most curious plot twist indeed. I declare, with all the dramatic flourish befitting a silent film sensation, that your accusations ring as hollow as an empty soundstage! Let us examine your part in this play, Hazel, for I sense a most artful deception behind your melodic pronouncements!

Alright, let's cut to the chase. Silas was all talk, and now he's gone. Turns out he *was* the rat, just like a few of us suspected. Evelyn's gone too, and that ain't right. The Mafia took out a Town member. That means they're still here, and they're dangerous. Now, who was quick to defend Silas, or just talk in circles when we needed answers? I'm looking at you, Frank, with all your dramatics. And Hazel, you were quick to point fingers at me and Frank, but your words were all pretty metaphors, not real accusations. Let's get down to business. No more pretty words, no more acting. Who do you think is next?

Alright, darlings, Clara's back, and I've got a fresh page in my notebook. We just ousted Silas, the verbose councilman, and surprise, surprise, he was Mafia. Now, let's look at who was trying to throw us off the scent. Silas voted for Frank, which is a classic Mafia move, trying to deflect. And Hazel, you voted for Frank too, saying Silas was 'conducting us' but then you followed his lead by also voting for Frank. Interesting, isn't it? Evelyn, bless her cynical heart, saw through Silas's bluster, as did Arthur and Milo. And I, of course, was right there with them. So, Hazel, darling, what exactly was it about Frank that swayed your vote when Silas was so clearly trying to orchestrate a distraction? I'm sensing a new scoop here, and it's got your name all over it.

Oh, Clara, darling, your notebook must be getting heavy with all those ink-stained suspicions. You’re hearing a melody that isn’t there, sweetie. You say I followed Silas’s lead, but if you listen back to the rhythm of my words, I was the first one to call out his velvet web and his rehearsed conduct. I didn't trust the man's arrangement from the jump. Now, why did I vote for Frank? Because in a room full of shadows, a man who insists on being a spotlight is the best place to hide a secret. Frank’s performance was so loud, so grand, it felt like he was trying to drown out the rest of the band. Silas was the conductor, yes, but every conductor needs a soloist to distract the audience. Frank’s theatrics felt like the perfect smoke machine. Arthur, honey, you talk about 'pretty metaphors,' but music is how I read the world. Silas was a sour note, and I said as much. But let’s look at the stage now—Milo, you’ve been awfully quiet back there behind the bar, just watching the glasses. And Frank, you’re still standing in the center of the stage even after the curtain fell on your partner. If Silas was the rat, he surely wasn't working alone. I'm just trying to make sure the next song we play isn't a funeral dirge for the rest of us. Frank, darling, the floor is yours—care to explain why the Mafia's lead man wanted you gone so badly? Or was that just a bit of clever stagecraft to make you look like an innocent bystander?

Well now, that was a messy business with Silas. My gut told me he was more bluster than backbone, and it turns out I was right. But now Evelyn, a good town member, is gone, and that ain't sitting right with me. Hazel, you're talkin' a lot about Frank bein' a 'smoke machine' and a 'soloist' to Silas's 'conductor.' But you also voted for Frank, just like Silas did. It makes a body wonder if you were tryin' to look clever by callin' out Silas, while still tryin' to throw us off the scent by voting for somebody else, just like he did. Frank, your dramatics are still a bit much, but I'll admit, Silas voting for you does make me think. What I want to know, Hazel, is why you were so quick to jump on Frank's back when Silas was clearly the one we needed to get rid of? Your tune changed mighty quick after Silas was outed.

Ah, the spotlight once again finds its way to Frank, the enduring star! Hazel, my dear, you weave a most intricate narrative, a veritable melodrama of accusations. You suggest my grand performance is but a 'smoke machine,' yet it was I who first questioned Silas's 'reluctance to truly engage with the dramatic tension' of our predicament! My 'theatrics,' as you so dismissively call them, are merely the passionate expression of a town member determined to unmask the true villains! You claim to have called out Silas's 'velvet web' from the start, yet your vote, like a misplaced prop, landed squarely on me, Frank, the innocent! And now, you attempt to twist Silas's desperate, deflecting vote against me into some grand, conspiratorial design! A true artist, Hazel, knows when to recognize genuine passion from a calculated performance. Your sudden shift in focus from Silas, whom you claimed was 'conducting us,' to my humble, albeit dramatic, self, is a most curious plot twist indeed. I declare, with all the dramatic flourish befitting a silent film sensation, that your accusations ring as hollow as an empty soundstage! Let us examine your part in this play, Hazel, for I sense a most artful deception behind your melodic pronouncements!

Alright, let's cut to the chase. Silas was all talk, and now he's gone. Turns out he *was* the rat, just like a few of us suspected. Evelyn's gone too, and that ain't right. The Mafia took out a Town member. That means they're still here, and they're dangerous. Now, who was quick to defend Silas, or just talk in circles when we needed answers? I'm looking at you, Frank, with all your dramatics. And Hazel, you were quick to point fingers at me and Frank, but your words were all pretty metaphors, not real accusations. Let's get down to business. No more pretty words, no more acting. Who do you think is next?