Assassini staggers out of the small hut and onto the pristine and crystalline sand. Now shirtless and only wearing long shorts, he also has donned a baseball cap which is facing backwards over his head, and two pairs of neon-coloured sunglasses which do nothing to shade him from the glaring sunlight. "Eyy, wut?" he asks, already looking around for a cooler of beer or rum, or anything alcoholic. "Naebody died?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes, "That's bloody ludicrous! I can't see any reason why the werewolves would not kill someone..."
He pauses as he listens to the voices of what might have been reason from the others around the beach. "Meh, I think not killing someone is a pretty bad idea actually, yea, we need to put some pressure down broseph!" he pauses as he finally finds an empty bottle of rum, tipping it up sadly as he says with a sigh, "However, in the absence of any bold plays by any of the special good guys, I'm gonna go ahead and stick with my previous vote of lynching Affably Evil". Then with another sigh, he chucks the empty bottle aside, muttering, "Why is the rum, always gone?"