Oh, you have got to be kidding me. I have been very proudly writing up, filming, and editing another video review for the last several days… and it turns out it’ll take about six more fucking hours before it’s uploaded to YouTube! GODDAMMIT!
… Um, so yeah. Hold on, I guess? Grand unveiling of a brand new episode tomorrow? And, far more importantly, I’ve switched conversion software for one that doesn’t compress the audio to hell? So, you can actually hear it! And it’s pretty awesome, if I do say so myself. I’m naked for a lot of it, which is admittedly less so! Stay tuned!
Welcome back to Internet Campfire Tales, the only web series scientifically proven to increase your penis size! So, yeah, if you don’t have one, this is going to be a real problem.
Now, you might say, why are we coming back to reviewing Creepypastas so soon after the last one? Well, voices in my head, I don’t have the time to continue my Nymphomaniac review today, so either I just make up some crap to justify it, or I use this review of Default.avi to save my bacon!
Ahem!
“Hello, my name is Dennis and I always fiddle around with computers.”
This is the weirdest Penthouse letter.
“I really enjoy doing this and I spent most of my time behind a computer.”
Or inside of, as the case may be. I seriously doubt there are USB attachments for your dick, Dennis.
“4 days ago I noticed something strange in my HDD. I was looking for cool files in my computer when I saw a folder in my hard disk, it said ‘Wind0ws666’.”
And in accordance to the Creepypasta Drinking Game, take a shot for awkwardly inserted 666!
“”Strange,” I thought by myself. “I’ve never seen this folder before.””
… Oh, really?! And here I was, thinking you downloaded “ThisIsTotallyAnEvilDemon.exe” all of the fucking time!
“I opened it and I saw 3 files. ‘Default.exe, Default.wmv and Default.avi’. I ran a virus scan and it didn’t seem to contain a virus, so I tried to open them.”
“The . exe file only opened a command prompt with some binary (The ‘language’ computers use, this contains 1’s 0’s. A computer converts this to images, games, music etc.) in it.”
… CAN WE PLEASE ASSUME THAT ANYONE MATURE ENOUGH TO READ CREEPYPASTAS IS MATURE ENOUGH TO KNOW OF THE OLDEST COMPUTER FACT SINCE THE RICK ROLL?!
“The second one was a .wmv file that contained a woman’s voice also saying some binary. It was an eerie sound, reminding me of Microsoft Sam.”
Well, to be fair, Microsoft Sam is fucking terrifying.
“The .avi file, however, contained a video.”
If this turns in to “twogirlsonecup.exe”, I am… well, actually, that would be legitimately terrifying.
“It was a video about a girl called Lucy and her dad it seemed to be recorded by a hidden camera in a living room.”
Man, the Paranormal Activities movies keep getting weirder and weirder.
“The voices are really faint and hard to understand but I managed to understand most of it. This is what the voices said:”
Wait, you’re… you’re not actually going to write the rest of the Creepypasta as a transcript, right?
“???: Lucy! Where are you honey?”
Oh, good god.
“Lucy: I’m here daddy!”
This is… this isn’t real, right? I’m being punked?
“Dad: Honey… I got some terrible news. Your mother *sobbing* had a car accident this morning and she just died in the hospital.”
I- I jus- GAH! Okay, first of all, “I’ve got some terrible news”, not “I got”, second of all, “sobbing”? I… what?! I don’t… you have to write what is actually going on! You can’t just say what’s going on and EXPECT IT TO FUCKING WORK!
“Lucy: *Screams* No! No no no no! *quick footsteps*”
“Quick footsteps”? Oh, did she jump in to a soft-shoe routine while she mourned her dead mom?
… ANKLES SHOULD NOT DO THAT.
“Dad: Lucy! Lucy can now be seen running through the living room hiding under the table where she sits for 12 seconds before the screen cuts to black. 2 minutes later the video continues. Dad sits next to the table holding an apparently sleeping or passed out Lucy.”
Shhhh, don’t bother me, I’m waiting for the perfect moment for a Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds reference.
“Dad: Lucy… I’m so sorry honey… I’m sorry… *Stands up holding Lucy, bringing her to her room*”
‘I know where he was carrying her because fuck you.’
“1 minute later the dad comes back in to the living room staring at the camera screaming:”
Oh, he stubbed his toes, gotcha.
“Dad: WHY DID YOU DO THIS!? HOW COULD YOU MAKE ME DO THIS!?”
‘Why did you make me buy the bargain bin Hot Pockets?! I’ve had gas for a solid month!’
“???: I’m sorry David. We just need this.”
‘We just needed the Hot Pockets. We have a thing for the cheese filling.’
“Dad/David: WHY? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT THIS, HUH!?”
You do realize you have other ways to draw attention to words, right? You don’t just have to capitalize? Seriously, bolding, italics, strikethroughs, you have options here!
“???: Let’s just say this is a little project of mine *giggles*.”
‘I’m just going to say that he giggled instead of actually writing ‘hee hee hee’, because as you can probably tell, I ran out of fucks to give a long ass time ago.
“David: WHAT!? A LITTLE PROJECT YOU SAY? YOU JUST MADE ME KILL MY WIFE! HOW COULD YOU CALL THIS A FREAKING PROJECT?”
Well, see, this is just his hobby! If it works out, he’s got a whole “murder your wife” Kickstarter planned out!
Five bucks says it’ll work out.
“???: Well it is… You are my project.”
Can they make this marriage work?
“David: WELL HERE IS YOUR FUCKING PROJECT! *pulls out a gun, and holds it against his head*”
Yeah, I once had a science project do that once. Worst paper mache volcano ever.
“???: Go on David. Do it! DO IT!”
Man, Nike has gotten cruel.
“David: *sobbing* Fuck you… FUCK YOU! *pulls the trigger*”
Which was positively the worst time to discover he was bullet-proof. Super awkward.
“???: *laughs* I knew you could do it David.”
You won a new car! … Oh, wait.
“Then a person would walk into the living room, looks up to the camera and then this happens: ???: Well Jake. That was test subject no.1…”
‘I have to say, our testing to discover new toothpaste went really overboard.’
“Jake: *grins* Guess it is… So where is test subject no.2? ???: *laughs* Let’s just say… He is watching us right now…”
Gasp! Such a shocking plot twist! THAT MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BECAUSE THE PASTA IS FUCKING OVER! THANKS FOR WASTING OUR TIME!
Hmm, I think I need a boost in my view counts… LETS REVIEW A MOVIE ABOUT PEOPLE SCREWING!
(Holy hell, I think my Netflix account is going to get techno-syphilis.)
It was remarkably hard to find a picture of this movie that didn’t require intense censoring, followed by an exorcism.
Diary Of A Nymphomaniac is a 2008 Spanish art drama, directed by Christian Molina, who also directed… absolutely nothing you’ve ever heard of, actually, so fuck it! Let’s rock, and by that, I mean let’s get ready to never experience sexual arousal again!
Ahem!
We open the film with- oh fuck, an IFC Logo?! STOP FOLLOWING ME AROUND, IFC! Anyway, we actually open with close-up shots of the titular diary, presumably of said nymphomaniac. We cut to a grown-woman on a swing, asking her Grandmother if she loved her Grandfather. And they have a conversation about sexual equality, and for once, they manage to do without being unbearably awkward and making me want to claw my eyes out! See, Sexual Chronicles Of A French Family, this is how you do it!
(Hmm. Two foreign films about fucking in so-many weeks. I hope this isn’t becoming a habit.)
Swing Girl sighs about her sex life and slut shaming, and her Grandmother advises that she write her thoughts down in a diary instead. And speak of the devil, the diary starts narrating as we cut to the past to show Swing Girl’s first time having sex!
Annnnd she’s 15 years old.
…
A month. Please, just let me go a month without any pedophilia. I am begging you here.
So, yeah, we get to watch Teenage-Swing Girl and her long haired boytoy going at it, but afterwards, she says it just didn’t feel right. Soooo we cut to them trying round two! And then three. And then four. And then- IS THIS SERIOUSLY A FUCKING MONTAGE?!
*pinch bridge of nose between fingers*
Although, I’m pretty sure we could make this awesome by throwing You’re The Best Around as the background music.
But noooo, instead we’re stuck with the Spanish version of The Police playing in the background. We get to see the duo grow up through out all the fucking, just like a really weird photo album, before we cut back to Swing Girl and her Grandma in the future- er, present. Look, space is warped and time is bendable, and we soon cut back to… I’m going to say the past?
After another session of love-makin’, Swing Girl, who we learn here is named Val, tries to convince her lover to stay, but he’s all tired out. Well, to be fair, if they’ve been fucking for 14 straight years, a little weariness is to be expected! That, and some severe chafing.
At work, Val gets a call from an old friend, I assume, and the two set up a meeting. And then we cut to her fucking said friend in a bathtub! And… covering him in champagne? Is that… is that some bizarre kink that I’m just too scared to google?
They exchange dueling narrations for a while, all over-laid with the aforementioned over-laying. (Get it? Oh, shush, I am the best at what they do.) Oh, and when they’re done with sex, they talk for a while! And by talk, I mean he shoves a glass bottle up her vagina!
… I really, really hope that’s not actual thing. Although, that would explain why gynecologists have to wear safety goggles.
Pictured: Safety goggles. Because pictures of a vagina with glass shards is too mean even for me.
At work, Val and her friend talk about love for a bit, and Val starts to wonder about how her life is so lacking in love. Hmm. You know what would fix that? Cutting to Val fucking! Eh, yeah, that works. You know, props to this film where every other movie about sex has failed, they make the sex actually look like fun.
But yeah, Val is fucking Alex, her old boyfriend… I think. Anyway, after their lovemaking, Alex explains that he can’t see her any more because he has a girlfriend now! Whiiiiich you probably should have mentioned after you… ya know, screwed her. I hope you have a condom that protects against glass shards, man.
After he leaves, Val contemplates how lonely she is. And decides to fix it by finding somebody just waiting at a bus stop, then banging him. All without exchanging a single word! I guess vaginas are telepathic now? Best. Superpower. Ever.
She gets confused for a hooker, by a hooker, which is mild to moderately insulting. And then proceeds to get turned on by somebody stalking her while she has a shower! Because I guess that’s just something that happens in Spain.
Val gets laid off at work, and just to show that the universe just really hates her, gets a call from her Grandmother, who is deathly ill! Which is both terrible, and means that I have absolutely no fucking clue how the chronology works! Anyway, Grandma is sick, and when Val confesses about her nymphomania, Grandma dispenses some primo grandmotherly advice! Aww, how sweet! Val goes to the other room to fetch the knitting for her Grandma, and when she comes back she’s… dead.
…
Wow. You’ve got to love it when the last words to your loved one was, “Hey, I can’t help but fuck people!”. You should put that on her tombstone!
… PLEASE TELL ME SOMEBODY HAS DONE THAT.
Val has her own personal sadness montage, and when she’s done with that, she decides to go job hunting instead! The first interviewer flirts with her and offers her a ham (… okay), and the second one turns her on so much that she spends the rest of the day sniffing his… business card?
…
…
…
Okay, if this was a man, this would be UNBELIEVABLY CREEPY. So I think it’s only fair to say that, as a very attractive woman, YOU HAVE SERIOUS ISSUES, VAL.
Welcome back to Internet Campfire Tales, the only web series that both exists, and is a thing!
Internet Campfire Tales is our brand new segment where we find and review Creepypastas, and see what we can do to make them better! And, you know. Riff them. It’s kind of our thing, and today, we’ll be looking at Jason Loved To Read! A Creepypasta that was written… like, literally seconds ago. Not even kidding.
Ahem!
“Jason loved to read.”
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A TITLE!
“Every day he would take a walk to a nice place, like the park or the beach, and sit down to read for hours. It didn’t matter what the story was about, or who the author was, because Jason just loved to read.”
If this is a long elaborate set-up to a “Twilight Sucks” joke, I am burning this Pasta down and collecting on the insurance money.
“One weekend, his usual places were a little crowded due to the gorgeous weather. He decided to take a walk in the woods to see if he could find a clearing, or an interesting log, where he could relax and lose himself in a book.”
The library was out of the question, of course, because there’s only so many times one can have a bookgasm in public before they start banning you from places.
“Jason walked through the forest for quite some time. These particular woods weren’t good for hiking and had no trails, so he was sure to have some solitude.”
It had no trails, so the quiet bookworm made it through the woods by… by… oh, fuck it, books move in the space between spaces, alright?!
“He wasn’t sure how far he had walked before he came upon the mysterious building. It looked somewhat like an old bank, and was covered in moss and vines.”
Ah, yes, the First National Bank of the Hundred Acre Woods. I believe they went bankrupt when it became clear that Piglet was embezzling millions into an off-shore bank account. Christopher Robin is writing the upcoming book on the case, last I heard.
Don’t drop your guard, he’s got a gun behind his back.
“The doors were open and falling off the hinges, and the windows were filthy and broken. Jason figured this strangely placed building might be just what he was looking for.”
Jason is kind of a moron!
“As he entered through the crumbling doorway, he saw dozens of shelves lined with books. What was a library doing in the middle of the woods? It didn’t matter to Jason.”
Man, even the narrator is confused about this. But Jason? Just doesn’t give a fuck! He’s gotta get his fix, man!
“All that mattered was that he was staring at what might possibly be a treasure trove of unread narratives.”
Yeeeeah, Jason, you have a problem. Anybody gonna give him an intervention? Or should we just wait for him to overdose on some uncut J.K. Rowling?
“He wasted no time grabbing a random book off the closest shelf as he dropped his book bag without care for its contents. Jason inspected the book and it was surely something he had never heard of.”
Of course, Jason had never heard of string-cheese, so it wasn’t that impressive.
“He returned it to the shelf and went to further investigate the library. The whole place was filthy, but there wasn’t any random clutter like one might expect from an abandoned building.”
Except… you know, a metric fuckton of books. What, did you forget about that part?
“But why was it abandoned? Who could just leave all these books to rot?”
… Wait, the books are rotting?! Well, there’s your problem right there! Your books are bound in human fucking flesh!
The Necronomipubliclibrary.
“Jason only thought about it for a moment, as he was too engaged in reading the names of all the books, wondering if he’d find something he recognized. He didn’t find anything remotely familiar.”
He did, however, find about six volumes of Mein Kampf.
“Books were meant to be read, and Jason felt like these books weren’t fulfilling their purpose, and for a long time it seemed. It was time to start reading. He picked one called ‘Black Wing Adventures’ and sat Indian-style on the floor.”
By ‘Indian Style’, I assume you mean that “What Makes The Red Man Red” started playing in the background?
“The story was incredible! It had everything anyone could want in a good book: adventure, romance, action, even philosophy. But it wasn’t just that it had so many good qualities, it was that those qualities shined so much brighter than anything he had ever read. If this book was this amazing, what treasures did the other books hold?”
… You’re… you’re not going to actually describe the books, huh. Just, “they were really good, take our words for it”? Okay, that’s… that’s quality story telling, right?
“Jason was excited in a way he never felt before.”
I think the soundtrack just switched to “Jizz In My Pants”. Maybe slow down, Jason?
“It was getting late and Jason knew that his girlfriend, Melissa, would be pissed that he wasn’t answering her texts.”
Wait, this guy has a GIRLFRIEND?!
…
SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF, RUINED!
“Normally she understood that this was Jason’s ‘me’ time, but he usually came home hours ago. He took the book with him so he could finish it later and started his journey home. He wasn’t sure if he would find the library again, so he marked trees along the way with a sharpie he had in his book bag.”
I’m suddenly imagining this kid drawing cocks on every tree in the forest. It’s like the trail of breadcrumbs home, except it would be a lot more awkward if the forest animals tried to eat these!
“Jason got up a little early the next morning so he could read.”
I think it’s pretty obvious by now that Jason is actually a plant on behalf of librarians everywhere.
“He grabbed his book bag and took out what he expected to be ‘Black Wing Adventures’. The book now had a different title, ‘Love Without a Friend’. More rummaging through the bag produced only his other boring books that he had previously been excited to read. “
‘Pssh, fuck off, Game Of Thrones, I have real books now!”
“Did he grab the wrong book? No, that wasn’t possible. He hadn’t let go of the book before putting it in his bag. It was obviously from the same library because it was covered in thick dust. He must have taken the wrong book. It was the only explanation.”
Or, possibly, Jason is actually a mutant with the worst super-power imaginable.
“He decided that he would read ‘Love Without A Friend’ even though the title didn’t really seem anywhere near as cool as ‘Black Wing Adventures’. Boy, was he wrong. It was just as good. It didn’t have adventure or action, but it had a strikingly human quality to it.”
And by that, he meant it had way more orgies in it.
“Jason had never felt the kinds of emotions the story was invoking. Turning each page was like opening a Christmas present. He couldn’t wait to receive each word, each thought, each feeling.”
Seriously, just… just a plot synopsis here, man. I am begging you.
“It was late, and Jason began to nod off.”
What do you mean “late”?! I thought it was “a little early the next morning” like five minutes ago! Either Jason is the slowest reader imaginable, or that book has dominion over time and space! Damn, maybe it really is the Necronomicon.
Pictured: The worst cookbook of all time.
“He didn’t want to stop reading, but eventually he passed out. The next morning he was still holding the book in his hands. It was still opened to the page he left off on, and he started to read again. He had no idea what he was reading. The story had completely changed.”
Oh, so THAT’S how Steven King keeps coming out with book after book!
“There were different characters, different thoughts, different feelings. He closed the book and looked at the title. It was ‘Men and Monsters’.”
Please tell this is the gritty reboot to “Of Mice And Men”, where Lenny is actually Godzilla.
“Jason was even more shocked than the first time. This book hadn’t left his hands. He hadn’t returned to the library to exchange it for another book. None of this was possible, and Jason was getting understandably freaked out.”
Soooo, you could say he was starting to… freak out?!
“All he could think of doing was going back to the library. Maybe he could find one of the other books he was reading. Upon his arrival, Jason received a text message from Melissa that read, “Are you ignoring me?””
That would be a yes, Melissa! Seriously, why are you dating this guy? Is he hung like a bookshelf?
“He responded, telling her he had found a new spot in the woods to read. He left out the part about a mysterious library with curious books, figuring it would only lead to more questions. Once Melissa’s concern had diminished, Jason shut off his phone.”
Yes, venture in to the dark forest with the mysterious haunted library, telling absolutely nobody what is going on, and turning your phone off so you can’t possibly call for help! Holy hell, can we have another protagonist? This one is defective.
“When he got inside the library, he searched long and hard for ‘Black Wing Adventures’ or ‘Love Without a Friend’, but he was unsuccessful. In fact, none of the titles he remembered from before were anywhere to be found. Every book was different.”
And all of them were Rick Riorden books, bizarrely enough.
“Could this be another abandoned library? How many could there possibly be? Even one seemed strange.”
… YOU ARE BAD AT THINKING THINGS. I AM REVOKING YOUR LICENSE TO THINK THINGS.
“Jason just wanted to experience what these books were capable of, so he didn’t want to think about how strange the whole situation had become. He just wanted to read.”
Jesus, I think I’ve dated girls like this. Good god, Jason, YOU HAVE FOUND A MAGICAL SHAPE SHIFTING LIBRARY! BE MORE IMPRESSED! WHAT HAPPENED HERE IS A MIRACLE AND I WANT YOU TO FUCKING ACKNOWLEDGE IT!
“He knew he didn’t have much time, so he quickly grabbed a book called ‘Our Nation’s Last Hero’. It was a political drama with as many twists and turns as a great mystery. Jason had never read anything like it. He rarely thought about politics, but it was suddenly the most interesting subject in the world.”
As previously indicated, Jason isn’t very smart. Who wants to bet that each book is just a blank page and he’s making all this up?
“It started getting dark, so once again, Jason left the library and took the book he had been reading. He hoped it would still be the same book when he woke up the next morning. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.”
Of… of course it wasn’t the same book! Seriously, are you just getting this? You get a day with each book, then you go to bed, and when you wake up, it’s gone! I’ve seen lemmings with better pattern recognition than you! Hell, I’ve seen sports fans with better fucking pattern recognition than you!
“Jason didn’t know what to do. These books were amazing, but apparently he wasn’t going to be able to finish one unless he read it in less than twenty-four hours.”
Pssh, you call yourself an avid reader, and it takes you up to twenty four hours to finish a book?! SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF, RUINED!
RETURN OF THE CHAIR FLIP!
“He was going to have to stay awake for a long time, so he packed his book bag with caffeinated energy drinks and a few deli sandwiches in case he got hungry. Jason knew Melissa would be looking for him, but he didn’t care.”
And what does our panel of celebrity judges say?
“ASSHOLE!”
And we have a winner!
“He cared so little that he left his phone at home on purpose.”
If this doesn’t end with this brat getting devoured by bookworms, I’m declaring this Pasta inedible and sacrificing it to the Elder Gods.
“And so it began. Jason was on a mission to finish one of the magical changing books. What else could they be but magical? A book that changes every day? What an incredible thing!”
No, wait, lemme rephrase that: “HOLY FUCK THIS IS COMPLETELY IMPOSSIBLE! CALL THE PRESS! TAKE PICTURES! SPREAD THE WORD!”. Are reasonable reactions just not cool any more?
“Though Jason had been upset about not being able to finish one, he was thrilled at the fact that he was reading books that no one else would ever read. If he managed to finish one, he would be as satisfied as he could ever be in his whole life.”
And I guess scanning the pages on to a computer and reading them later would just be cheating?
“He chose a book called ‘The Lion’s Tears’, and began reading. As he read, he would periodically take a few swigs of energy drink and take a bite of a sandwich. Eventually he ran out of drinks and began crashing from all the caffeine. It was too soon! He hadn’t finished the book!”
And then his heart exploded because of all the energy drinks, right?
“There were just a few chapters left, but he couldn’t stay awake any longer. He hoped that he would wake up again before the book changed. When he awoke, it seemed as though the next day had not yet come, but the book had still transformed into something new. Jason decided he was wrong about when the change occurred. It wasn’t when the next day came, it was whenever he fell asleep.”
So just… pull an all-nighter? You do realize that you can just stay up all night, right? Seriously, there are so many solutions to this problem, it’s not even funny.
“Jason stopped leaving the library. He had no time to walk back and forth, or spend time with his girlfriend, or do anything other than read the magical books.”
Oh, so he’s just fucking insane now. Good to know!
Pictured: … A library, I guess.
” He tried to stay awake long enough to finish one, but it was no use. He just kept falling asleep. Jason was getting angry now.”
And you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry! I mean, not that you like him now, of course…
“This wasn’t a treasure trove of beautiful works of fiction, it was a curse. He was obsessed with finishing one of the books, and it was eating away at his sanity.”
This is a remarkably specific curse, that would only work on some strange, bizarre subset of humanity that I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist!
“No food, no water, no contact with other human beings. When Jason would begin to fall asleep, he would take a piece of broken glass from one of the windows and cut himself to stay awake.”
… That escalated quickly.
“After several cuts, he began to feel weak from blood loss. His mind was becoming warped as he sucked every word into his now crippled consciousness.”
Um. Trigger warning, self harm, I guess? Actually, that reminds me, is that a thing people do? Throwin’ up warnings just all over the place, as to not offend anyone’s sensibilities? Because if so, I will need to just cover my whole site in the fucking things.
“The books he chose became more and more macabre. Titles like ‘Making Love to Murder’ and ‘The Man Who Ate Himself’ were overtaking the other, more gentle ones.”
Trigger Warning: Spooky titles.
“If Jason was going to finish one of these books, it had to be something that interested him, and gentle things were no longer in his interest.”
Trigger Warning: Gentle things.
“There was no telling how long Jason had been in the library. He wasn’t eating or drinking, but somehow he wasn’t hungry or thirsty anymore. It was as if the books were keeping him alive.”
Trigger Warning: Being alive.
“They wanted him to read.”
Trigger Warning: Reading.
“They wanted him to finish. He kept getting closer and closer to finishing one of the books. He was sleeping less and less, and his dream was going to soon come true.”
Trigger Warning: True things.
“But which book would be the lucky one? Which one would be read from front to back by a willing participant? He picked up a book off the shelf and looked at the title. It was called ‘Jason Loved to Read’.”
Yeah, I wouldn’t read that one if I were you, it’s pretty boring.
“His eyes widened. His mind raced. What an amazing coincidence! A book with his name in the title! And it’s about someone who loves to read!”
Okay, I think it’s wildly clear at this point that Jason is a very special breed of stupid. You could have left him in a room with piece of paper that said “turn over” on each side, and he’d still start going insane.
“Adrenaline rushed through Jason’s body as he opened the book and began the first chapter. He read of a teenage boy who found an abandoned library in the woods. He read about books that magically changed their content whenever the protagonist fell asleep. He read about himself. This was the book that he would finish. This was the book that he HAD to finish.”
Oh, OF FUCKING COURSE! The one time you actually describe the plot of one of these books is the one THAT WE ARE ALREADY FUCKING READING!
This story is just a gritty reboot of the Reading Rainbow.
“Jason’s heart pounded like mad as he reached the final chapter, when suddenly he was interrupted by a shouting female.”
“”What the hell, Jason?! THIS is where you’ve been?! I’ve been calling! I’ve been texting! Everyone is looking for you! I only found this place because I happened to see those marks on the trees and thought that maybe you made them! Hello?! Jason?! Are you deaf?!””
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Awkward Expository Dialogue Theater! And wow, you really just followed a trail of Sharpie’d trees in to the forest in the vague hope that you’d find your boyfriend? I’d make fun of how stupid that is, but hey, it worked!
“Just then, she noticed the cuts all over Jason’s body. She fell silent, and took a step back. Here was her boyfriend, cut up and bloody, buried in a book, paying no attention to her tirade.”
Well, obviously he got in to a fight with a roving hoard of bookworms.
“”Jason… what’s going on? Are you alright? Why won’t you look at me? Jason?” Her voice was concerned but hesitant. Jason just sat there Indian-style, reading his book. Melissa lost her temper.”
Wait, he’s still sitting Indian-style?! Oh, so she just found him by following “What Makes The Red Man Red”!
I still cannot believe people let this exist.
“”Look at me, Jason! What the fuck?!” She began to cry. All she wanted was to find her boyfriend and discover why he had been missing.”
Turns out, the answer is, “He’s a terrible fucking boyfriend”! WHO KNEW!
“She expected him to embrace her and tell her that they were together again and everything was going to be alright. She ran to him, bent down, grabbed his arm and shouted, “Jason!””
Well, this is definitely going to end well.
“In a split second, Jason grabbed a piece of broken glass, already covered in blood from using it to cut himself, and jammed it firmly into Melissa’s neck. Her eyes became wild with fear as she gurgled and jiggled, eventually falling to the floor with the glass still in her neck. Jason’s face had no expression as he continued reading his book; his legacy.”
See, you might THINK this is incredibly fucked up, but this is actually really common in libraries. Why do you think they keep vats of acids and body bags by the return desks?
“It was about to happen. The last page. Jason couldn’t believe it. He had finally stayed awake long enough to finish one of the magical books from the mysterious abandoned library in the middle of the woods. His hands shook as he turned the page and saw the words ‘The End’ towards the bottom, below the final paragraphs. It was then that he became horrified for the first time in his entire life.”
‘Snape killed DUMBLEDORE?!’
“The book ended with the protagonist, Jason, stabbing his girlfriend in the neck with a shard of broken glass. Jason didn’t move, didn’t blink, or even think.”
Yeah, I think that part is pretty obvious.
“He just sat there in absolute shock. Was this really happening? Why did the book say that he killed his girlfriend?! That was impossible! Jason was no killer, he just loved to read!”
Insert sad trombone music here.
“He stood up and screamed a desperate, primal scream, throwing the book on the floor next to Melissa’s body. He looked at her as if noticing her for the first time.”
‘Oh, hey. Have we met?’
“There was blood all over the floor. Melissa was surely dead, and Jason must have been the murderer. He walked home in a daze, and called 911 to turn himself in.”
They proceeded to laugh at him for about ten minutes before they realized he was serious.
“According to Jason’s story, the police expected to find Melissa’s body in an abandoned building in the woods. When they arrived at the proper location, they found only her corpse amid the blood stained leaves and branches. Nothing that resembled a library was anywhere in sight.”
So, either the library is magic, or much more likely, Jason is a fucking psychopath! Good to know!
“The details of the trial and conviction aren’t extraordinary, but what you may find interesting is what happened when Jason arrived at prison. His cellmate offered him a book to pass the time. Jason politely replied, “No thanks. I hate to read.””
GASP! SHOCKING TWIST ENDING!
…
Wait, no, that makes no sense. Did it turn out that he was actually lying about the whole thing, murdered his girlfriend in cold blood, then made up the books thing later on? Did the library make it so Jason hated reading? Or was the library the one who made him like reading in the first place, and now he’s back to normal? Is Jason ACTUALLY A BOOK?!
Eh, guess we’ll never know, because it’s FINALLY over! So that was Jason Loved To Read! How was it? Kinda… um. Boring?
There’s no real details put in to any of the stories, and that’s what just kills this Pasta before it can even sprout legs. If some effort had been put in to actually writing the books, even short little summaries, that would definitely make it more interesting and pull us in to the story. Jason has really very little personality, ditto with Melissa, so this whole story just turns in to “bland person reads bland things, stabs bland girlfriend”. Which is… you know, creepy? I guess, for some people? Ooooh, booooks?
I hope you enjoyed today’s session of Internet Campfire Tales, and if you want to help pick next ICT, just sneak in to my bedroom in the middle of the night and carve it into my chest! With a number two pencil, of course, we have to keep clean, after all.
Huh, I wonder if there are any good movies coming out soon…
Oh, that looks neat! I can’t wait to see that! I always love to see somebody trying something new with found footage! Anyway, guess I’ll go watch some Cracked videos now.
Wait, they’re showing ads here too? Damn, I thought the whole point of the internet was that it didn’t have ads. That’s a thing, right?
[Editor’s Note: Not even close to being a thing.]
Huh. Well, fuck it. Guess I’ll go watch some Jonathan Coulton videos on YouTube.
… This is just getting eerie. Um. Blip?
Okay, seriously, are there any other video sharing sites? Lets try… wow, do I really know that few sites? Tumblr, maybe?
Facebook?!
EMAIL?!
MY DESKTOP BACKGROUND ADORABLE FISHIES?!
Am… am I dying? Is that what this is? Are you my version of the afterlife, or are the drugs just really kicking in today?
Oh god, why am I so sick all of a sudden, this is completely unfair. Well, seeing as my nose is doing a passable impression of a mucous fire-hose, that means either it’s time to take a trip to Omegle and mock everything in a mile radius, or pass out on the floor sobbing!
Or both, I guess.
Ahem!
How are babies made?
The Large Hadron Collider, duh.
Weirdest place you’ve had sex?
A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind…
so today this chick started to talk to me on fb, I noticed that she was in a relationship. I asked her about it and she was like he’s to sweet. what you guys think? should I be mr steal yo girl?
… Okay, for fuck’s sake. I usually try to be good about not correcting people’s grammar and spelling, you know, let them stand on their own- but just look at that! You could eat a fucking type writer and puke a better sentence structure! Here, lemme try:
“Alas, good sir! This day, a fine lady of high social standing began conversing with me, but upon closer examination, it became wildly apparent that the lady had a significant other! And when questioned about it, she simply stated that he is far too charming! I submit to you, should I be ‘Sir Duke Doesn’t-Respect-People’s-Relationships’?”
Pictured: Omegle.
I have an emergency and I need to talk to a Swedish person immediately
… I think that is the first time that sentence has ever been used in human history, so, you know, bonus points.
what is your age and sex?
Eh, I’m open to suggestions.
I DONT KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS WEBSITE!!!
… You’re my soulmate.
do a roleplay
If you make me make a Dungeons And Dragons joke again, I’m going to castrate you with a curling iron.
If you want an honest rating on anything (face, boobs, instruments, pets, etc.)
Oh, for the- stop following me! I’ve gotten this fucking message twenty times! I’M NOT GOING TO SHOW YOU MY BOOBS!
… Besides, they’re all the way on the other side of the room.
If countries were humans, which countries would date each other?
I feel a disturbance in the force… as though a million Hetalia fans cried out in shipping… and were suddenly silenced.
… Oh, balls. I’ve been busy working on a script for another video review!
[Editor’s Note: Well, do you have anything else written? Anything at all?]
Um. I have a scary story I wrote a couple weeks ago?
[Editor’s Note: Great! Go with that!]
Um, okay!
Ahem!
Heh. Heh heh. Oh, have I got a story for you.
We’ve all had to move, right? You know the story, the parents want to change jobs, or maybe neighbourhoods, so they scoop up the entire family and toss you across town. I mean, not that I’m complaining, it’s not like the new neighbourhood was bad or anything, it was your standard upper middle-class slice of life, but all of a sudden, my friends had to go out of their way for several hours just to hang out, so yeah, my social life has just gone out the window.
My brother, oh yeah, he was the one having trouble adapting. Of course, Jack was your standard industry older brother. Annoying, smarmy, and somehow infinitely better at everything than I am. Better at sports, better at acting, better at dating- seriously, where do they get guys like that? Anyway, anyway, not important, the thing is, once we moved, he started getting, well, squirrley. For lack of a better term. He stopped sleeping, and would instead stay up all night just pacing the new house, and even when he did sleep, he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I tried to help out, tried to get him to calm down and accept that the move wasn’t that bad, but you know how older brothers are. He punched me and called me a dick. As usual.
Mom and Dad, meanwhile, were just having a ball of a time. Local park, friendly neighbours, plenty of local restaurants with all sorts of pleasant reviews in the local papers. Good for them, I guess.
You know when you first move in to a new house, and you’re still finding all the stuff that the last people who lived there? Well, I made it my personal goal to find all the crap I could find. Lessee, I found boxes shoved under the stairs, filled with all sorts of old stationary and winter jackets. Which, interestingly enough, the sleeves had been sewn shut. At the time, I just figured the previous owners were just amputees. Which is… a tad depressing, I’ll admit. Um. Okay, moving on.
I also managed to find linens, a whole collection of scratchy blankets that nobody would miss. Or, hell, maybe they left them here on purpose. I found a laundry chute, leading from the main floor to the laundry room, which I didn’t even know they made any more. And then, once Mom made me stop rummaging around the house and finally start unpacking after a week living here, I found a hole in my closet.
Hrm.
It didn’t lead anywhere in particular, it was just a tiny nook carved in the back of the closet, nestled in the insulation between the floors. I slipped some rubber gloves on, in case the hole was filled with spiders or millipedes or anything else wonderfully unpleasant, and pulled out a small hunk of wood with singed edges. I rolled it over in my hands, admiring the peculiar heft to it, before I noticed the carving in the wood.
heWHISTLESwhenheWALKS.
Yeah, good luck trying to research that. I ran Google Searches on that phrase for hours, and all I got was stock footage of people in hoodies walking around and whistling.
I tried asking my Mom, of course, and she just slapped my hands away and made me go back to work. Dad, meanwhile, just told me that it must have been an old art project the previous owners left here. And when I asked Jack, he just started laughing and laughing, but it wasn’t his normal laugh. He usually had a broad, full laughter, the kind that makes you want to laugh along. But this time, it was a high pitched, keening laughter, like a hyena, and his voice started to crack as he forced himself to keep laughing.
That night, after a rushed dinner with the family that ended awkwardly as usual, I stashed the wood in my dresser and went to bed.
I can still remember the bright sheen of my alarm clock when I awoke with a start at 3:12. It’s almost as though it’s stuck in my memory. And outside my window, I could see the orange light from the street lamps shine through the night and blazing through the shrubs.
And the shrub moved.
Not a big, over exaggerated movement, of course, it just… moved.
Like it just stepped to the left.
I tried to peer through the gloom and figure out exactly what I was looking at. Some kind of big… broad shape? Like… oh god, it’s a man, it’s a fucking man, there’s a goddamn man standing outside my-
The last thing I remembered that night was the shrill hiss of a tea whistle.
When I woke up, I was still half groggy. Not a morning person, see. It took me a minute to remember what happened last night, until I saw somebody standing outside my window. And I, in diplomatic terms, lost my shit. I was halfway out of bed and fully out of my goddamn mind before I realized it was Jack. Apparently first thing in the morning, Jack decided it would be a great idea to start tearing apart the shrubs outside of my window.
I pulled the window open, and demanded to know what the hell he was doing.
“… Gotta get rid of them.”
“Um. Okay. Any particular reason?”
“I can’t let it get you. I can’t let it get you. I can’t let it get you.”
“… The shrub?”
Suddenly, Jack shook his head, and started swearing up a storm as he realized what he was doing. Yeah, seems he was sleep walking. I tried to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but as it turns out, he was just as confused as I was.
I really wish I could say I spent the next day trying to research what the hell the “whistling” meant, because that would have been the more respectable and cooler thing to do, but yeah, I spent the entire day playing video games and masturbating. Um. Okay, moving on.
Considering what happened last night, I didn’t really want to go to sleep that night, and I stayed up as late as I possibly could. I think I made it around three, before I was ready to risk falling asleep. It was then, thankfully, that I heard it.
A soft whistling.
Not like a tea kettle, I mean, not like last time. It was… like a wind chime. Like a soft tinkling song, like a nursery song I only half remembered. And I wish, I wish, I wish I could say I had the balls to get up and find it.
But no. I wrapped the pillow around my head, and hid myself in the gloom of my room, trying desperately to ignore the soft whistling. And no, no, it wasn’t just that. After every whistle, there was a dull thud. Not loud enough to wake anyone else up, but simply… there.
Stomp.
Chime.
Stomp.
Chime.
Stomp.
Chime.
Finally, sleep took me.
The next morning, I woke up like every generic morning, and managed to put the whistling out of my mind for the moment. I slipped on my pyjamas, and pulled myself out of bed and staggered over to the kitchen for breakfast. And when I passed Jack’s room, his door was open. I could still remember his strange laughter, and the shadows that seemed to be growing under his eyes with every day, so I decided to stop and check in on him.
Jack wasn’t in there.
No, wait, scratch that, nothing was in there. There was no bed, no dresser, no Black Sabbath poster on the wall, absolutely nothing to show that anybody had ever lived in there.
“Um. Mom?” I called out as I made it to the kitchen, my heart shaking my whole damn rib cage with every beat.
“Yes, honey?” She was setting up the table for breakfast, with a plate of pancakes for me, Dad, and herself, but nothing for Jack.
“Where’s Jack?”
“Who’s Jack?”
“… You’re kidding, right?”
“Wait, wait, I’ve got this. Is it a boyfriend of yours?”
“N- no?!” My head started to throb, and the room began to spin. “Your son! My brother!”
“Um. Honey, you don’t have a brother.”
Oh, no. No no no no no no no.
That conversation continued with pretty much everyone in my extended family over the rest of the day. I called all of them. Every aunt, every uncle, every grandparent, every cousin, and not a single damn one could remember Jack. I called Jack’s friends, Jack’s girlfriend and his vast collection of exes, I checked Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, email- hell, I even tried to hunt down his birth certificate. And there was nothing.
My brother had never existed.
I’m not too proud to admit I started crying.
My parents, of course, were very worried about their psychotic son who was now claiming that he had a brother (hah hah hah hah), and tried to get to me to a hospital. I denied that I was crazy, and tried to convince them that I was just playing a vast practical joke on them. Not sure I convinced them, really, but the two had to go to work, so they left their hyperventilating son sitting home alone all day.
The first thing I tried was rummaging through Jack’s old room, trying to find anything that could explain this. Not that much could, mind, but I tried anyway. There was nothing.
Except for a small hole, carved in the wall where Jack’s bed had been. I reached inside, and pulled out a small shard of singed wood.
whenheWHISTLESheWALKSforyou.
I spent the rest of the day, holding a steak knife and hiding in the corner.
That night, thankfully, passed by without incident. And I should know, I didn’t even try sleeping. And the next morning, I continued trying to convince my parents that I was totally normal! Don’t have to sent to an asylum or anything, don’t be ridiculous, hah hah hah.
I think I’m starting to hate them.
I hopped on my bike and rode to the library, hoping to get some research done. And lemme tell you, there is no way to convince a librarian that you’re not crazy when you’re sitting around, asking her to research holes in reality. Which is a shame, she was cute.
No good, by the way. There aren’t any books for “case studies of entire world forgetting somebody”, which, in retrospect, I guess I couldn’t be too surprised. If the entire world has forgotten about somebody, how would anybody know it had happened? It could be happening every day, and nobody would even know. Heh. What a pleasant thought. At this point, I even tried to give the mythology books a read, looking for anything about some kind of Whistling Man or Whistling Thief or Whistling Jackass or literally anything about whistling to try and find out what the hell was going on.
Also a no-go. Only, on the last book I tried, I found something carved in to the cover.
YouwillWHISTLEwithHIM
I reported it to the librarian. She made me pay for it. Hah.
When my parents got home, I tried to ask some sly questions about the previous owners. Did you ever meet them, did they ever seem weird, did they whistle at all, the usual. But all Dad could tell me was that the man who lived here had very little to pack up.
“Wait. Wait. One man?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“This is a five bedroom house. Why the hell would only one man own all that?”
“I dunno, people are weird like that. Besides, we bought the house, and we’re only using two bedrooms.”
Two bedrooms. Five bedroom house. I wonder how many siblings I used to have. Heh.
Night came, as you’d expect, and after I found an excuse to avoid having to interact with my friends when they called me, then I went to bed. Not to sleep, mind. Because I can’t hold a knife when I sleep.
Don’t ask me what time it was when I finally heard the whistling again, I wasn’t in any right mind to pay attention. It was… almost pretty.
Whistle.
Stomp.
It was right outside my door.
Whistle.
Stomp.
I tried to scream, but it got caught in my throat.
Whistle.
Stomp.
My door slowly slid open, and I got to see it.
Heh.
I don’t know what, I don’t know what, I don’t know what it was, is, always was, whichever verb you fucking want to use. It was huge. Massive. Taller than the door, and twice as wide. Not fat, it was just bloated, twisted, insane muscle that seemed to twist and bend under his own skin. Heh. Butcher’s apron, I don’t know why, just a goddamn butcher’s apron, coated in black ichor. And oh god, the legs. Just below the knee, it’s legs were gone, and all it had were hollow brass tubes, riddled with holes.
Like a wind chime.
Whistles. Walking.
Hah.
I can’t, I don’t, I can’t even remember what I was doing, I just, I just, I just stopped. It’s face, with the wrinkled and twisted and skin, and it’s bottom half was covered with tight leather, drawn across it’s skull and stapled in to the skin and hah hah hahah oh god the eyes almost as if they were lenses, plunging out of the skin and there was nothing there-
I tried throwing the knife at it. It just sort of… bounced off. Not even sure if it stabbed him. Not even sure if it would have mattered if I did.
It ducked and whistled it’s way inside, and I got to see oh the hands. It’s left one was thin and boney and it snapped and cracked and bent and seemed like it could never stop moving and the other one was just brass and gears and steam-
I jumped at it, and I tried to tear in to it, kill it, hurt it, make it scream, and the Whistling Man just stopped me.
Slammed it’s insane brass hand in to my chest.
It went through me.
Shredded me.
I tried to cry, honestly, I did.
But I just laughed.
It grabbed me, flung me over it’s shoulder, and just whistled it’s way back. Whistle. Stomp. Whistle. Stomp. Whistle. Stomp.
I considered singing along.
Not entirely sure where we are now. I think under the stairs. Heh. There are so many others down here. That’s the really funny part. They have no hands. Not even stumps, they just end. I think Jack is down here. He’s laughing too.
Heh heh.
I’d tell you to watch out, but there’s honestly very little you can do. He can tear your entire family down and you’ll never know. Maybe he already did. Ever have a memory you’re not sure where it came from? Maybe an empty room? Some clothes, a knick knack, anything you can’t really remember?
… I don’t even know why you’re bothering to read, at this point. Like, honestly, are you even interested in what happens in The Apparition? I know I’m not- hell, at this point, I doubt even the creators were interested in what happened.
“Once You Believe, You Die”. I knew a church with the same philosophy once.
Previously, on The Apparition: Perky and Blandy are haunted by the ghosts of college, and for once, that doesn’t actually refer to that STI you picked up after an enthusiastic pool game! And while they sleep in a motel to get away from the terrifying… not scary stuff, the ghosts decide to attack them by tucking them in and gluing them to the ceiling.
Ahem!
I know it’s hard to believe, but our INCREDIBLY BRAVE AND STRONG HEROES manage to best the eeeeevil powers of the bedsheets, and the next day, they get a call from Patrick. Who then proceeds to explain the plot. That’s nice of him. Yeah, in case you couldn’t figure it out, they accidentally called the ghosts through from another world, and now it wants to bring itself in fully. So now, to stop it, it’s time to break out the ghost busting gear!
[Editor’s Note: What, like proton packs?]
Oh, god no, they just plan to broadcast the footage of the experiment around the house. So it’ll trap the ghost in the spirit realm! Because, you know. Recordings are magic.
[Editor’s Note: Um. Okay, I… I guess that’ll work. So, the ghost is haunting the house?]
Nah, it’s actually haunting Blandy. And the university. And Patrick. Actually, it’s haunting pretty much everything but the house.
[Editor’s Note: … So, why is the house important?]
Well, you see, it’s because SMOKEBOMB.
Preeeeeetty.
As they set things up for their big climax, a box starts… SHAKING! Ooooooh! So Perky nails the door shut and locks it in the laundry room, but because the ghost is a bit of a jerk, she teleports the ghost on to the other side! Now you’re locked in! With… with a single shaking box.
… Spoiler alert, it turns out her old vibrator is on the fritz.
No, no, a ghost actually starts crawling out of the washing machine, and of course it’s as boring and generic as can be. Pale face, long black hair, twisted face, cheque please! And, after Perky screams her head off for the last ten minutes, Blandy FINALLY manages to notice and get her out. Gee, great job completely ignoring your girlfriend. What, are you practicing for when you finally get married?
That night, they get ready to capture the ghost, and start transmitting the experiment through the house. And of course, the house starts shaking itself apart as the ghost goes haywire. Um. Oh, gee, so surprising! EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU TRY THIS DUMBASS EXPERIMENT, YOU MAKE THINGS WORSE! YOU’RE A DISCREDIT TO THOSE HIPSTER GLASSES!
After all the shaking stops, we cut to the next day, as they’re cleaning up after their little ghost-a-palooza. And oh, I’m suuuuuure the ghost is gone for good. Not as if we have twenty fucking minutes left! The ghost grabs Patrick’s chair and drags him, Zuul style, in to the garage. Which, when Perky checks it out, is completely riddled with mold and dead plants. I’m pretty certain this movie is only scary to interior decorators. Or mold enthusiasts.
When Perky checks back in from the garage, she and Blandy find that all the furniture in the room has been super glued to the walls and ceiling. See, that’s how you can tell this thing used to be a college ghost, he already has dorm room pranks down pat!
Pictured: PURE EVIL.
The duo run off to go hide in Patrick’s ghost-proof safe-room, which comes complete with a running recording of plot relevant exposition. Turns out that most of the people who ran the experiment are dead, and despite how old this thing must be, there are absolutely no records of it. Well, to be fair, that’s probably because it isn’t very interesting.
Once they make it to the ghost-proof little cage, the lights start flicking, and suddenly Blandy disappears. Well. Nice work on the whole “anti ghost cage”, Patrick, it lasted a good… oh, three seconds before the denizens of the devil dragged Blandy through the wall like a Mirror-Verse Kool-Aid Man.
And yeah, seriously, it dragged him through the wall, she finds him stuck halfway through. With a massive ‘o’ expression, like he tried to give Optimus Prime a blowjob. Soooo with all the people who performed the original experiment dead, the ghost is over, right? Oh, silly man, The Apparition is not a place for things to make sense!
Perky runs outside, only to find her car being dragged partway in to the ground- wait, seriously? Good god, ghost, learn a new trick already. And she starts sprinting through the forest, all while we hear Patrick going on about how powerful and brilliant this ghost is, wearing people down until they can’t fight any more, and he’s ancient and he’s learning our defenses, and we’ve opened a portal to bring all of the spirits in to our world and- seriously, motherfucker, what are you on? Literally none of that has happened. This thing just grows fungus and makes like Shadowcat! It’s like he’s discussing a much better movie, instead of the piece of garbage we’re watching!
So, yeah, the ghost catches her, and we cut to Perky wandering the empty city, until all of a sudden, dozens of hands appear from nowhere and start grabbing her! Annnd the end!
…
Wait, no, not the end, I have several questions! Is she dead? Is that what the end was? Or did the ghosts take over the world? If so, how, and why? What happened to that girl who disappeared in the beginning? What about their neighbors, were they attacked by the ghost too? Are they still alive? Why didn’t the plan to trap it work? Where did all the hands come out of nowhere? Why did it bother chasing Perky? Why was it so interested in her? Why did it have to hunt down everybody who summoned it? WHY IS IT CALLED THE APPARITION?! WHY CAN’T I BELIEVE IT’S NOT BUTTER?! WHY DID YOU TRY AND MAKE ME BELIEVE IT WAS BUTTER TO BEGIN WITH?! IF I WAS A TREE, WHAT KIND OF TREE WOULD I BE?! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAH!
… Erm. So, yeah. That was The Apparition! How was it?
…
Zzzzzzzz…
This is just a pain to sit through, and I think the buzzword for the evening is DULL. Capitilzed. With SEVERAL ‘U’s, in places you wouldn’t expect them to be. And really, what more can I say? Other than the fact that there is so little so say about the movie, I HAD TO PHYSICALLY SIT DOWN A PAD OUT THE CONCLUSION, BECAUSE THERE IS *THAT* LITTLE TO SAY ABOUT THE FILM!
You might have noticed that I’ve been using Ghostbusters references for the titles. Well, see, that’s because The Apparition is so damn boring that I can’t think of a single damn title to use for it!
Seriously, any ideas? I’ve… I’ve got nothing with this thing.
“Got Your Nose, The Major Motion Picture”
Previously, on The Apparition: Years ago, a bunch of university students decided to try and create a ghost, and understandably, it went badly! And nowadays, Blandy McClone and his girlfriend Perky are being haunted by ghost fungus, until Blandy’s old university friends sent him some emails talking about how they tried to trap the ghost they created!
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT WE DID! WE BROUGHT IT IN TO OUR WORLD! IT’S LOOSE! IT’S FREEEE!”
It went less than well.
Ahem!
After Perky gets out of her depressingly unscary shower, she finds that her entire closet has been completely messed up, all tangled and torn up. Like, completely, the wooden coathangers are twisted like pretzels. Which is… more confusing than scary, actually. How did the ghosts manage that, do they have degrees in wood-working?
Anyway, Blandy picks up and bat and him and Perky search through the house to find whoever did this. And all the while, the standard issue things go bump in the night, until the duo hop in the car and go out camping, rather than spend one more minute in the house.
“Somebody must have broken in!”
“Why aren’t we saying what we’re both thinking?”
“It can’t be ghosts, our house is too new for that, it has no history!”
“You saw the hangers, what could have done that?”
Oh, I dunno, criminally bad screenwriting?
Pictured: Ultimate terror?
Also, seriously, Blandy? You get an email telling you that a ghost is coming after you, then five minutes later, a ghost comes after you, and you don’t put it together? Dead people in the audience have put it together by now!
While the duo camp in the front yard, we cut back inside to show that on the security feed, the cameras are shutting off one by one. While Blandy goes off too investigate for… some reason, the ghosts grab the one remaining camera, and we get to watch the security feed as it slowly drags the camera over to watch Perky while she sleeps. Um. Why? Does the ghost have a thing for her? If it does, why does it need a camera? If it was created in a psychological experiment, why would it have any affinity for her, or for that matter, technology in general? Wouldn’t the camera aspect make more sense if it used to be human? And yes, I am asking questions rather than watching the movie, wouldn’t you?
Blandy finds the camera, and the next morning, Perky goes off to work while Blandy stays home to clean. And, of course, break out his old ghost hunting equipment! While he does, he gets a call from Patrick, his old college friend, but he doesn’t answer. Which is a shame, because that means I can’t use the “This Is Patrick” clip yet.
While Blandy cleans, he notices that the mold infection has somehow spread on to the kitchen ceiling, and like an genius, decides to start pokin’ it with a stick! Oh, congrats, you now have more lung infections than there are lung infection. And what does he find inside the mold, but a destroyed version of the ghostly model from their old experiment! And a chocolaty nougat center!
Blandy drives off to work, and the second he leaves, the ghosts pull out all the stops and… OPENS THE GARAGE DOOR!
…
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
If this is as scary as this movie gets, I’m killing myself right now.
When Perky gets home from her job at the vet’s, she brings home a new dog to make up for the one that her house killed, and she gives it to the little girl! Aww, how sweet! How does the little girl respond?
“… YOUR HOUSE KILLED MY DOG.”
Eh, everyone’s a critic.
Perky gets home to find the scaaaawy open garage door, and also finds Blandy’s old trunk of ghostbustin’ equipment. She pulls out some kind of hard drive, and hooks it up to her computer to watch the footage of the original experiment. Why yes, thanks, you… you already showed this bit. Um, if you were going to show this bit now, why did you show it at the beginning and completely spoiled where the ghosts came from?
Anyway, we do get to see a bit more of the experiment, namely the fact that the girl who got spirited away got straight up dragged through a wall, and was never heard from again. My god, I knew it! The ghost was the Kool-Aid Man the entire time!
Once Blandy gets home, he gets an earful from Perky- completely justified, I might add. “So, why exactly didn’t you tell me that you knew that the ghost is real, is an incredibly powerful monster that you made, and is completely capable of killing me?!”
“… I was trying to keep you safe.”
“Oh, well, of course I’d be more safe not knowing that a murderous stalker ghost with the ability to blow up figurines and drag people in to the space between spaces was hunting you down!”
“… Really?”
“OH YOU CAN JUST FUCK RIGHT OFF.”
After she kicks him out, he calls up Patrick, and meanwhile, all the lights inside the house go out. So, instead of just… you know, leaving, she instead elects to wander very slowly through the pitch black room, starring at a thermal imager two feet away from her fucking face. And after a series of unimpressive jump-scares, Blandy just walks back in and takes her to a motel. And in the weirdest crossover ever… he takes her to the Bates Motel.
… Well, okay, not really, but wouldn’t that be awesome?
(I haven’t watched the show yet, actually. Is it any good?)
After they fall asleep, Blandy suddenly wakes up… pinned to the ceiling, floating above… himself sleeping?
I… I don’t… what the hell is going on?!
And meanwhile, Perky gets choked by the eeeevil bedsheets, because… you know, those are so hard to breath through.
…
Wait, one second, lemme try that.
…
Okay, good news is, those are surprisingly easy to breath through! Bad news is, I have a new fetish now!
A VERY STRANGE PLACE 