The F Plus - 378: The Worst Creepypastas

Episode Date: October 22, 2022

Okay, so for this episode the plan was for us to read the worst-rated stories on Creepypasta.com, but we spent like half that time on some dude's insistence that his boner for the Venom symbiote is the cure for liberalism. This week, The F Plus vows to never turn left again.

Now I tell a tale of the Threshold People. So astounding that some of you may faint. This is a story of those in the Twilight Time. Once human, now monsters. In a void between the living and the dead. Monsters to be pitied. Monsters to be despised. A night with the ghouls. Oh no. It's the F-plus podcast. They have terrible things. And they'll read them with enthusiasm. In the room tonight we have Booze Reindeer.

Why thank you. She grinned, baring her large, sharp teeth at him in excitement. She took the chainsaw from her back and placed it carefully on the table. Now I'm both hungry and tired. Can we get takeout? Jimmy Franks! Have you ever wondered what would it be like to be dead? I'll tell you, it's not fun!

Yay! We've got Isfahan! Do you see what you've done, Abby? Do you see what you've done, Abby? Do you see what you've done? And we've got Zerla. Things are pretty bad in the U.S. and other places, but I sure hope this is not the solution. Curious why the author seems to hate the people of San Francisco

specifically. That was harsh. Softer hearts, open minds, and less hatred is needed, rather than replacing bones with muscles. And voting out the current president would help, too. Definitely a unique story, though. And Lemon. Fuck me! Holy crap

on a fucking cracker! Hey, F+. Hi. Hi, Lemon. Hi, Lemon. Hey, are+. Hi. Hi, Lemon. Hi, Lemon. Hey, are you terrified? Always and about everything. That question concerns me. I'm on my way, but I don't know if I'm all the way there yet.

I see, I see. Isvan, what are the top four things that terrify you? The news, not knowing what the news is, knowing what the news is, and asking other people what they think about the news today. Wow, wow. So every television is kind of like a Schrodinger's cat situation. Yes, it is a source of potential terror for me.

But also real terror regardless. Like, when you open the box, you're terrified regardless. Right. That's fantastic. That's the point of the exercise. That is actually, yeah, that's what they proved. I want to introduce you to a place that's very, very scary on the Internet. You know, there's not a lot on the internet that I think would scare anybody, except for

this site called creepypasta.com. Yay! Oh, boy. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. What's on it? Well, okay, I will actually tell you. So I believe that our audience in general, the F plus audience, is pretty well versed in the intricacies of the Internet. And thusly, probably a fair amount of them know what creepypasta is.

But I think Zarla, Zarla, what would you describe the origin of creepypasta as? Let's see. So back on some 4chan board, I forget, people would just post scary stories to try and scare each other. And another slang term they had for copying and pasting things was copypasta. And so they changed it to creepypasta because they were stories you would copy and paste to scare each other. Yeah, yeah, yeah. So this is sort of like, you would say this maybe would be like an internet tradition of kind of like ghost stories? Yeah, kind of.

And then presumably these creepypastas, for a creepypasta to be successful enough to be catalogued, it would be the most scary, right? Oh, yeah, definitely. There's a very high-quality bar on creepypasta. Not just anybody can write one. Yeah, apparently Slash X was the 4chan. Yeah, that's it. creepypasta. Not just anybody can write one. Apparently it was slash X was the 4chan. Yeah, that's it.

But anyway, yeah, so Is that because when you die, your eyes turn into X's? That's exactly what it is. And your tongue sticks out. Slash X, X Right, right, right. So yeah, it's slash XX carriage return P. So we're going to be looking at a document here brought to us by Dr. Interrogative,

who has produced a whole lot of F-plus documents for us lately, and thank you so much. But this document is called the lowest rated creepypastas from creepypasta.com. Yay. So yeah, real, real cool. Yeah.

So if you, if you go to creepypasta.com, you can sort by rating. Yeah, so we're going to look here at this story. This story is called Eat Your Greens. And it was posted on October of 2013. It contains death, murders, and disappearances. So, yeah, real scary, real scary stuff.

I think if we could, Jimmy Franks, do you think you could start us off here with a story with a rating of 3.8? That's not bad. It's all right. You know. My mother always told me to eat my greens. Like most, I was a fussy and picky child and didn't want anything to do with the disgusting-looking mass of otherworldly slime that she slopped onto my plate every meal. Okay, is your, are you Calvin from Calvin's House?

Did the greens actually attack you? Spoilers. I was a kid, all right? I was a kid. Give me meat. Give me dinner rolls. Anything but that. Give me that which I desire.

Eat your greens so you grow up big and strong. If all you eat is meat and sweets, you'll just turn into an aggressive thug, she always told me. Well, I certainly didn't want to be a thug. I was a nice person, you know. I was always polite to everyone and always patient, too. I couldn't stand those jerks who played football

and stuffed other kids into lockers. What? Hey, alright. Sounds like some real Newt Gingrich shit here. I'm working through some stuff here. There's certain people always eating meat and sweets. We know who we're talking about, right?

You'll just have to repeat. I got stuffed in a locker and I fished a divorce notice through the little slot. Oh, damn it! Such a bad time! And in, like, the worst advice that a parent can give a child when they're being bullied, you'll just have to repay them with kindness and outlast them with patience, my mother always advised. Wow.

Also, they're just jealous. Well, mother, I guess you were right. I will be more kind and patient than all the thugs and jerks. See? I invited the jerk over for dinner. Wasn't that nice of me, Mother? I'll even eat all my greens this time to make doubly sure that I won't turn into a thug. to make doubly sure that I won't turn into a thug.

I just wish that it didn't take so long for the human body to turn green. I'm getting really hungry and my dessert will soon spoil, mother. Oh my God. The last line is, I'm tired of writing this. Yeah, my name is Guest, and I got a comment to leave on this one. Yeah, what's up, Guest?

Yeah, it's weird but not scary. The point is to make someone feel creeped out. Try relating it to something we do. You don't eat people? Jeez. I thought this was a safe space. You know, when you pay for the Creepypasta Writers Retreat, it's the feedback that's the most valuable part of the experience.

Thank you. I'm glad I could help. My name is also Guest. Uh-huh. Okay. Guys, I like this one. That's all. These comments are powered by the open web.

Yeah, so that was terrifying. You brought a bully over, and then... Yep. Okay. Zarla. This next story here, it's slightly better, slightly better. 3.8. Oh, wait, no, slightly worse.

Slightly worse. Yeah, that was the best rated story we're going to read tonight. That was the best rated story we're going to read. Wow. I think we're reading in reverse quality order. Okay, no, I appreciate that. Okay, yeah, yeah, yeah. So this one's slightly worse.

It is called Beyond Truth. Contains death, murders, and disappearances, and madness, and paranoia, and mental illnesses. A great cocktail. From 2012. A great cocktail. From 2012. Something for everyone. I watched

the blood as it trickled across the slick wooden floor, as it began to hide under the furniture, as it began to spread and draw closer to me inch by inch. I was always a curious man. Was it wrong to peek? I thought not. Maybe I had been wrong. But good has come of this corpse that lay

here before me. Yet I have no regrets. I've regretted everything. Okay. Well, you have to... You have to decide. I no longer wish to let myself become lost in such emotions. The deed has been done.

Still, no, I must have been right. It was not wrong to peek. It was wrong to open the doors I have now. The door of knowledge has always been there waiting for me. Who knew it could cause this? Still, I will carry on. This sudden insight is confusing. I will learn to master my knowledge.

The blood that has been shed by my hands is no longer relevant. Nothing in this physical realm is relevant. I must understand what is yet to be understood by any other being. I will be patient and carry on. I let the blood reach me. What is yet to be understood. Yep. I let the blood reach me.

I washed it while it dried and ceased its journey across this unfamiliar place. Is the blood like the monster from Prey? Like it skittles around the room and turns into shit? It's the blood from the thing. The blood's journey was irrelevant, unlike what I must soon experience. I left him there to make my own journeys across these many unfamiliar places. Am I mad? Possibly.

Although I could never quite say what madness was. Credit to Mitchell. Ah! Ah! Ah! No, yeah. As Boots was just pointing out here in the chat uh the the layout of the

website could be fast.com it's really good um contains uh there's the first column it says dear abby that's what the first column is then the second column is a story that's called dear abby yeah the third column is a picture and that's's scary. The fourth column is another story. The first column is the picture of Dear Abby, followed by the text Dear Abby. The columns are about 200 pixels, I think. It's a four-column

two stories with thing, but most of the space is taken up by the image. It's really bad. It's very hard to read. So the next

worst story is called the Bambi Project. We're actually going to skip over that one because it is very, very long. And instead, going over here to the world of Wynonna. And this contains deaths, murders, and

disappearances, madness, paranoia, and mental illness. And it also contains Eileen Zier? I guess it's a username. Caution, Eileen Zier is in this story. Well, I'm not going to read it then.

It also contains high school and murder, which is different than the murders that I mentioned earlier. There's plural murder, and then there's also singular murder, and, crucially, the F plus, paint. Can't believe someone wrote a story with paint in it. Gross. Maybe it means like MS Paint. That's actually pretty scary.

It's funny, can you take this one for us? Okay. World of Wynonna. Wynonna Worlds was the girl everyone wanted to be. She had it all. Fantastic grades, excellent painting skills, great works popularity, and the most loving boyfriend one can have.

Girls and boys envied her equally. Every day, she'd sashay down the halls, silently boasting about herself. She'd arrive in denim miniskirts and leopard pink crop tops. Okay, so she is a drag queen, right? You're talking about a drag queen now.

Everyone wants to be her. Hair clips keeping her black bangs out of her face. And her relationship was one someone would kill for. Foreshadowing? Well, that's for you to decide. Her boyfriend, Raymond, would buy her the pinkest camellias he could find. She'd show up in the new clothes

daily that he'd buy for her. He was her king, and she was his queen. And he had an unusual amount of disposable income for a high school student. Yep. But of course, all beautiful things soon turn ugly and die. Ah!

One fateful October day, Wynonna didn't come to school. In fact, nobody in her group came to school. Not even Raymond. Where'd they go? Everyone was dead. I'm tired of writing the story again. Roll credits.

Standing ovation. That's a really good idea. You set up a story. You do this whole introduction. You introduce the character. It's like, and then you, the reader, died. It's too real, man. You'll never see this twist coming.

The cowboy picks up his revolver and shoots the camera. They'd usually be runway walking down the school halls by 8.30, but it's 9.14. Now we're in present tense. What happened to them? All drag queens? Everyone? Edited material out. One of the children, Ashanti Westbrook,

had exited the school without Mrs. Curtis knowing. Pressing her small body against the cold school doors, she jogged away from the children, Ashanti Westbrooks, had exited the school without Mrs. Curtis knowing. Pressing her small body against the cold school doors, she jogged away from the school, holding her backpack by one strap. She had a plan. She wanted to find out what happened to Wynonna. What, not everyone else? No, only Wynonna. She's the only important person at this school.

She's got to focus. If I find Wynonna, I'll find everyone else. The entire school is missing. Wynonna, I'll find everybody else. The entire school is missing. Wynonna's missing? Wynonna et al? While running through the cold winter air, tears

formed in her eyes from the freezing wind pushing against her face. I really wish I had a Robert Stack voice at this point. It's got like an Unsolved Mysteries kind of vibe to it. It does. Yeah, you say that. It wasn't too much to cause any disruptions, but it was unpleasant. Her sneakers were slamming

against the sidewalk pavement. She didn't even have a coat on. By now, Mrs. Curtis would have realized she was gone, but Ashanti didn't care. She slowed down a bit, knowing there was truly no reason to run. Walking through the empty street, her eyes were pacing back and forth from

street to street. The houses looked so different, each telling a different story. It was calming, but eerie. The relaxation was soon killed when a large thud peered out of nowhere. That's not a thud. Just like the comic book, like, word thud.

Zock. Yeah. Ashanti's head zipped over to the origin of the sound, the woods. Ashanti goes into the woods and finds a warehouse. The noise was loud. It was a slow, creaky noise accompanied with a small thud while the door hit the wall behind warehouse. The noise was loud. It was a slow creaky noise accompanied with a small thud while the door hit the wall behind it. The warehouse was dark.

Yeah, I was just thinking. Picturing like a little tiny thud just propping the door open. The halls were clean, but there were papers scattered on the floor. Walking inside, she closely examined the papers on the wall. There were sketches of a beautiful girl on them.

She looked just like Wynonna, but slightly different details. Admiring the pictures, she started to smell a strong odor. It wasn't bad, but it was... This other Wynonna... Did she have a big brown beaver? I guess someone had to. Sorry. It wasn't bad, but it was...

I'm gonna walk over to you to tell you what I think in a very peculiar way. She became curious and wandered deeper into the area. The odor confusingly got softer to the point where she almost couldn't smell it. With this, she noticed something weirder. Pictures on the walls began to get more and more distorted. They were still recognizable as a girl, just not

necessarily Wynonna. This creeped her out so much so that she almost lost track of what she was doing. What was she doing, by the way? What was she doing? She's wandering. Yeah. She got herself together and turned to the left.

And took a step to the right. It was truly one of the worst mistakes she's ever made. Never turn to the left! No left turn on red. To the left! No left turn on red. In the room she had just walked in... In the room she had just walked in, okay, was possibly the most unsettling sight a child can see.

Wow! Too gruesome to describe! Yeah, the old Lovecraft cop-out. There, covered in a mix of paint and what she assumed... Oh, shit! Not tape, no. Oh, I in a mix of paint and what she assumed... Oh, shit! Not to eat, no. Oh, I'm glad we got warned about that. Mix of paint and what she assumed to be red paint

was Wynonna World's. She was completely drenched in dried and wet paint. I'm going to be coy about this red paint for a while. She was sitting on a wooden stool, arching her back, holding a paintbrush in her hand. She was slowly adding details onto her painting of a pretty girl.

Suddenly, she snapped. She stood up, picked up a paint bucket, and threw the full bucket onto the canvas, staining it with orange paint. The sight was almost cinematic. Beautiful, to be honest. Okay, so we've got paint, we've got red paint, and we've got orange paint. And orange paint, yes. I'm keeping a catalog of this.

Do you know what color you make when you mix red paint with paint? Yeah. Red paint paint. It's just, if you look it up on the color wheel, you know. 100% saturation. Then Ashanti realized a sad truth. The woman she was drawing was her

Ashanti? The woman that she that Wynonna was drawing was either Wynonna or Ashanti because It's not clear There's nothing grammatically wrong

with the sentence. The woman that she was drawing was her. You know what, Lemon? All the information in me is right there on the page, man. You know what, Lemon? You are in right.

You are in right. She was throwing painted herself portrait. Okay, there we go. Because she couldn't bear to look at herself anymore. Wynonna dug her fingers into her hair, pulling herself by her black locks and slapping herself. She turned around and kicked a bucket over,

splashing pink paint all over Ashanti. Write that down, Boots. Ashanti's screen. I like this because I'm picturing it all directed by Sam Raimi. Oh, okay. So is Wynonna Ted Raimi or is Ashanti Ted Raimi? Both of them. Okay.

Oh, oh, very good. Snap zooms Dutch angles into close-ups that are fisheye. Yeah. Ashanti screamed in fear. Wynonna looked up, deranged. Her makeup was smudged and she had black eye shadow plastered on her face The sight was horrifying But what was more horrifying was the second realization Ashanti made

Looking closer at the seemingly red paint all over Wynonna She noticed something off The smell coming from her was not the scent of just paint It was blood There was blood all over Wynonna World And she caught that from the smell? Yeah. Because the smell of blood is stronger

than the smell of paint. Yeah, like when you go into a room and you're like did somebody bleed in this room? This freshly changed room? Did somebody bleed in here? Sorry, I cut myself. I'm letting it off gas. Well, Ashanti didn't waste any time. She shrieked and ran off.

She didn't know if Wynonna was chasing her, but she didn't care. Her small feet were slapping against a hard pavement, the brightness of the light outside getting nearer. She fell out of the door, quickly getting back on her feet, but the escape wasn't very easy. She felt a firm, strong hand grasp onto her backpack, pulling her back. She screamed and yelled, begging Wynonna to let her go. Her legs were flailing back and forth, a desperate attempt to flee, but Wynonna wouldn't budge. She dug her nails deep into Ashanti's legs, so deep that blood came out almost instantly.

Ashanti screamed in pain. Wynonna pressed her face against Ashanti's cheek, whispering into her ear, You're a nosy, stupid bitch, and you deserve to die. She kissed. It's scarier without my accent. I don't know about that. Ashanti cried out in both fear and pain.

I was imagining that I was in a ranger's cabin, and I pushed the button, and it said, Smokey the Bear says, you're an always stupid bitch, and you deserve to die. Like, that in itself is pretty much a creepypasta. The friendly-looking thing said something dangerous. Yeah, that's all you need. You're close, you're close, but video games were at no point involved in that story.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Video games were cartoons. And then Mario was there. Squidward. Ashanti began rapidly slapping against Wynonna's face, causing Wynonna to drop her. She started to limp away, dodging all of Wynonna's attacks. She grabbed her shoe off of her foot and threw it at her. But Wynonna didn't stop chasing her.

Eventually, Wynonna grabbed Ashanti again and lifted her up against a tree by her neck, choking her. Wynonna's pupils were dilated, her smile was devilish, and she had Sanpaku eyes. Hell yeah! Probably. Had what, though? She had completelypaku eyes. Hell yeah! Probably. Had what, though? She had completely lost her mind. Wynonna slashed her manicured nails against Ashanti's cheek, causing the little girl to scream out in pain. She threw Ashanti on the floor, knowing she wouldn't be able to get up with her torn thigh. She towered over Ashanti, paint bucket in hand.

She was prepared to smash the little girl's head in with it. You should have stayed in school, she muttered. So that's the moral. Yeah. Ah! So that's the moral. By the looks of it, she didn't have to do any work. Ashanti slowly stopped breathing and fell limp, her tiny hands still grasped onto her unicorn shirt. From this, it seemed she had an asthma attack and died. Wow. Dun-dun-dun. She died off camera. You can't fire me, I quit.

Standing dumbfounded, Wynonna slowly walked over to Ashanti's supposed corpse. Are you... are you dead? She asked. She had a slight grin on her face, thinking that she had succeeded. In seemingly a second, Ashanti awoke. The quickness of it was too much for Wynonna to comprehend fast enough. Without thinking, Ashanti

grabbed a stick nearby and shoved it right into Wynonna's temple. The entire incident was so fast, it was as if time stopped for a second and then fast forwarded. Ashanti looked like that cool movie I saw, 300? Ashanti let go of the stick quickly, crawling backwards. Blood began to drip from the side of Wynonna's head, seeping down the stick. The sight was gruesome, but Ashanti couldn't look away. She was seemingly fascinated. Wynonna fell to her knees, rolling her eyes back before falling limp. Wynonna Worlds, the all-American girl next

door, was now dead. Ashanti got up, holding her withered thigh, and began to limp away. There was nobody near to help, but she didn't need anyone. She was strong. She killed someone all on her own and was completely not traumatized by it. The rite of passage that we all go through.

Yep. I said la, la, la, la, la. Directed by John Hughes. Many questions are asked and some are left unanswered. But the biggest one people have is, why did Wynonna snap? What made her do such a thing? Why was she all alone in a warehouse, painting herself?

Turns out, oh, so there are answers, and I know them. Is this a post-credits sequence? So anyway, you know how the mark of a good horror story is by tying up everything into a nice little bow?

Turns out it's because her boyfriend had been whoring around with her best friend. You know how the mark of a good horror story is by tying up everything into a nice little bow? I do know that, yep. Turns out it's because her boyfriend had been whoring around with her best friend. It's devastating, but enough for murder? No! Now, by murder, I mean the one she committed. Is this the sequel now? Are we in the sequel? This is the part of the story where you judge the characters.

I am on my porch, Whitland, and you are listening to my story, and here is the denouement. Everybody loves a story where the narrator just starts judging everybody. It's like the epilogue to Needful Things. The bodies of Raymond Willis and Aubrey Lanks were found completely decimated in one of his closets. Yeah, only a tenth of them were left.

There's their smoking shoes in the closet. The hiding spot was so terrible and the limbs were scattered everywhere. He did explode. Now you're judging the murder? Yeah. If I did it, here's what I would have done.

It's called OPSEC, people. Come on. Didn't even use lime. It seems she was in a big hurry to get them hidden because she knew what she had done. The walls were splashed with paint and blood.

Printed out pictures of Wynonna and Raymond scattered on the wall The smell was awful Blood and paint mixed together The warehouse where Wynonna went Buckwilding Outdooring spot

Yee-haw! It's time for Wynord to get turnt. Students from her school went over there to gawk at the pictures she glued onto the wall. Because it wasn't a crime scene and no cops had worked at all. The canvas was the biggest touring spot. People would gather around to take pictures of the paint-spattered canvas, but they couldn't touch it. They didn't

mind the smell, the horrible, disgusting smell. Shrines of Raymond, Aubrey, and Ashanti are located in the gym. They're there to honor them. Did Ashanti die? Shrines? They built shrines in the gym. Like in the middle of the basketball court?

It's like visiting teams always stumble over them, so it's a real good home to the kids. There are no cops in this town and there's also apparently no faculty at the school. Raymond and Aubrey in remembrance and Ashanti for her

bravery. Wynonna Worlds is now a common name in history the Regina George ripoff who butchered her friends that's the whole story they could have just left it at that sentence yay yay I like that all the paint was

scary I'm glad they tagged for paint I like that you named your own character as a Regina George ripoff. Who was the lead bully from Bean Girls. Yeah. One of the comments

points out that in the original version it said, covered in a mixture of paint and red paint. That would have been better. That would have been better. That would have been better. What a bad edit. I'm going to take this next story, but Boots, I would love for you to tag me in. Okay, yeah.

Or tag me in, rather. I'm also going to take the tags. Okay, great, great, great. Is there any, like, what tags are for this story, the Blue Meteor? The Blue Meteor, well, okay. There's apocalyptic and dystopian, dreams and nightmares, monsters, creatures, comma,

and cryptids is one of the tags. Yay, Mothman. Religion and spirituality, science fiction and aliens, which is a tag. Just like and cryptids there's a lot of ands like very specific combos space and cosmic horror strange and unexplained

slash oh okay this is two different sections of tags who knows how this site works alien invasions, aliens, apocalypse apocalyptic, armageddon, comets creatures, dreams, end of the world, end times, invasion, John B. Harris, meteors, prophecies, religion, religious, space, strange, symbiotes, unexplained, and visions. I think the first ones are like site made categories. And then the second ones are just any tags you can put in D1.

So that'd be my guess. I like that because it means that there is a site tag called and cryptids. I'm looking for apocalypse stories. Not necessarily apocalypse. Apocalypse. It was a clear night in a small community near San Francisco, California, when a mysterious blue light was seen by several residents as it fell from the sky. The next morning, a none-too-bright man in his early 20s went out to check out the field

where the strange blue object landed and found a small crater. Shiny blue stone about the size and shape of a football lay in the center of the small crater and the curious local, a high school dropout who still lived with a single mother who had never been married or been in a committed relationship for more than a week.

Really? Wow. I thought the last story was Judge Nettle. Yeah. Thought the stone might be worth some money. To his surprise, the space rock suddenly split open and released a shiny, slimy black goo. Rather than leaving immediately, Antonio Manza, who was like far too many of San Francisco's residents. Okay. Like, yeah.

So, like a typical San Francisco resident, he was barely literate, unskilled, and yet another typical product of the San Francisco public school system got closer. Anyway, sorry for that aside.

Yeah, I was thinking. So why are the aliens landing? He should have run when the meteorite cracked open. The gooey black thing that came out of the blue stone was actually a parasitic symbiote, and it suddenly latched onto Antonio's left arm and crawled under his shirt. It released a toxin that made its new host forget what just happened as it entered his body through a small cut in his shoulder. And when Antonio wandered back home in a drunken stupor,

just as he would on most other days when he didn't have enough drugs in his system to make a bull elephant hallucinate for a week, he's a drug addict. I forgot to mention that. I don't think this narrator likes it, though. You already said San Francisco. You don't have to specify that. And then later he's going to take a dump on the sidewalk. Winks as good as a nod

I can see. Yeah, absolutely. And thus Antonio became patient zero. The parasitic pandemic that would change the world forever would start with him. I feel like Antonio might be a bit of a parasitic. A week later in a small town in Alabama,

Jay was fishing in a small stream when a clumsy man... Jay Maskus? Yep, Jay Maskus was fishing in a small stream. And then a clumsy man bumped into him and fell over. Jay Maskus helped the man to his feet and thought nothing of it as the man left. He was wondering if the guy was drunk. Little did J. Maskus know what was to come. That night, he was unusually hungry

and ate four times as much as he usually would as would normally be a feast for him at the buffet he went to. What the fuck? That night, he was unusually hungry and ate four times as much as he would normally be a feast for him at the buffet he went to. Yep. Yep.

J.Maskus had never eaten that much at one meal and was known for his big appetite. After a deep and peaceful sleep, J.Maskus was shocked to find that he was wearing a thick rubbery black bodysuit. This is taking a different turn. This is a unique

story. Settle in. Here we go. The strange stretchy suit covered everything except for Jay's face, ears, and the thick shaggy brown hair on Jay's head. It looked just like a full

bodysuit. So it covered the part of his head that isn't his face or his ears? Yeah. Or where his hair is. Or where his hair is. Yeah. His neck. It's a turtleneck.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Everything except for that. Yeah. Yeah.

It looked like a full bodyset of bulging muscles with a big white spider on the chest. What could this be? What could this be? This is my original character. Don't steal. Lawyers knocking on Lemon's door. Get the fuck out! Get the fuck out!

I got a gun! Let's get the lawyers. There's like Sony lawyers and there's Marvel lawyers, like, Disney lawyers there, and they're just fighting each other. It's like Alien versus Predator, yeah. Sony lawyers all have nunchucks. Marvel lawyers have knives.

Yeah, absolutely. Okay, so, yeah. So, it felt like a soft rubber and was close-fitting as a diver's wetsuit and was rather clingy. Jay was not wearing this last night. Jay could still move normally despite the heavy suit's great weight. And somehow it felt strangely stronger. What the hell is this? No way I'm going out in public

with this thing on me, but... Either this bodysuit goes or I do. Okay, okay. I'm gonna just lean in and tell this one. Lemon, are you a fan of putting too fine a point on things? I'm gonna tell this. Everyone, everyone, plug your ears. I'm just going to just tell this

just to Jimmy Franks, okay? Okay. So, Jimmy Franks is just for you, okay? But,

this outfit that resembled the Venom creature from Marvel Comics with the gruesome head, horrible teeth, or blood lust was still designed

to be a fashion nightmare in its own way. Venom is a registered trademark of Marvel Comics. Allegedly. Jay felt around for some kind of opening or seam on the suit's back since there wasn't one on the front, but there was none. Whatever it was made of was super stretchy, however, so maybe he could get out through the neck opening, which was the only opening. When Jay pulled on the body-hugging suit's neck area. He got a disturbing surprise when it actively pulled back and resisted

him. The suit suddenly felt like a super sticky glue trap. Okay, that's hot. As it desperately clung to every inch of Jay's body with an impossible strong gooey grip. See, this is why I stopped shopping at Spirit Halloween store for my Halloween

costumes. Why is that? Because they turn into a strong gooey, they have a strong gooey grip and I can't take them off. And then they possess me and I go bananas and start murdering people. Yeah, yeah. I mean, you'll get that sometimes, but like the realism and the prices. You can't beat the price. Is it literally a banana costume that you're wearing? Now you have become the banana.

You're coming down the stairs. You're coming down in pairs. B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Okay, so he's trying to cut the suit, right? He's trying to cut the suit with a razor-sharp hunting knife, but the fearsome blade only made tiny scrape on the rubbery muscle goo suit's surface that healed almost instantly. This was just the beginning of Jay's sticky problem. Boy, he's sure spending a lot

of time thinking about how sticky and muscly this suit is. I bet that's for no reason. No, no, it's just, yeah, it's just an interesting sort of... It's texture. Stories need texture. A loud burst of thunder made Jay jump just as he was contemplating his gooey and very muscular wardrobe malfunction.

When Jay saw that he was clinging to the ceiling like a big insect, he realized he had spider powers. Right. Cool. Good. I'm watching this movie on Fast Forward. Two large, veiny, and gross- Whoa! Okay.

Two large, veiny, and gross-looking lumps had. Too large, veiny, and gross-looking lumps had now formed on Jay's wrists. Those proved to be web shooters. Though formed by the suit, the web shooters were connected to Jay's blood supply as if they were his own organs like his kidneys or liver, and that main mass was embedded in each of

Jay's arms among his arm muscles. It was clear that the situation was permanent. Narrator doing a lot of work here. This is gonna be a huge issue, Jay thought. He could feel other, even freakier

changes taking place. Jay's stomach rumbled. He was strangely hungry again. He jumped down from the ceiling and began to prepare breakfast in spite of what was happening to him. Jay had 50 pounds of fish in his freezer from multiple successful fish trips.

Jimmy Franks, I'm just... Like, I'm trying to set a story. I was on board. I was complete... Like, my disbelief was suspended. And then you come in with this. Completely took me out of it. I'm just trying to set a scene.

My boner is gone. You're just trying to build this character with just little sous-sins, little hints. You won't necessarily catch them on the first read. Are you fly fishing? Are you ice fishing? I need the details, please. I like picturing it just standing at a stove delicately cooking fish with a spatula

in this giant black muscle goo suit. In his bootleg Venom costume. He spends like 20 minutes trying to cut it off, and he's like, well, guess I gotta make dinner. So the 50 pounds of fish, only after frying and baking and then eating it all in one sitting, you realize he'd eaten all of it. He also drank many gallons of water. Why is this happening? It must be this blasted suit. Where did this thing come from?

As the thoughts raced through his mind, Jay could swear he could feel his bones dissolving and turning into muscle. Hey, Will, I mean, fine, but you're not going to be able to stand up. He's turning into Stretch Armstrong. Look at that muscle puddle right there.

That's the strongest puddle you ever seen. Look at that human coral reef. And his hopelessly non-removable suit was growing. I need to get to the doctor. However, he could not. Jimmy Franks, are you back on board with this character? Because this is a dynamic character. I am invested.

Okay, cool. So this character, who is the protagonist of the story insofar as he is the only character? There was Antonio. So he says, I need to get to the doctor. However, he could not help himself from falling asleep. His massive needle.

Tag! Okay. I'm going to take over this exciting story. Jay slept through a rainy and stormy day. Yeah! And woke up 12 hours later once a mere 140 pounds 5 feet 3 inches. He was now 250 pounds of muscle and 18 inches taller.

But his forever stuck-on living muscle suit weighed 500 pounds. Okay, this is a sex thing, right? Jay effectively weighed 750 pounds with the unsettling way in which the accursed thing was now bonded to him. It's just innocent details. Innocent details about the muscle suit. There's nothing weird about it. What is creepypasta about this? The symbiote had merged with his flesh

on a molecular level and every cell in his body was now half symbiote. Even his DNA was half symbiote. It was impossible to tell where Jay ended and the symbiote he was literally stuck with began somehow jay knew this instinctively to top it all off his bones were gone replaced by muscle which was abundantly clear when he reached for a light switch 20 feet away and saw that he now had

super stretch power he is stretch arms oh my god he is you're right uh in addition to the spider powers and organic web shooters and super webs, Jay's now excellent vision meant his glasses were no longer a necessity. And once brown eyes were now glowing green ones, he would never need a flashlight or a lantern again

because he could see everything in the dark with that one. See, you know, there's a bright side to everything. I wonder if the author is 5'3", 140 pounds with glasses. Do you think maybe their name starts with a J? I think the odds

of that are low. What the fuck happened to Antonio? Antonio was dumb. He made fun of me in school. I showed him. He was a shitty San Franciscan. I live in Alabama. No surprises there, unfortunately. At least He was a shitty San Franciscan. Yeah, I live in Alabama. Yeah.

No surprises there, unfortunately. At least I don't need glasses anymore, he said to himself. Jay knew he also had immense super strength, invulnerability, and regeneration abilities. Oh, he's all of the X-Men. He could lift a 1,000-ton boulder with little effort and was incredibly super stretchy, practically indestructible. It had super spider powers and super webs and regeneration. This is so scary. It was really cool and all of the girls wanted to kiss him on the mouth with talk.

They all let him touch under the shirt. they all let him touch under the shirt but he was now the parasite completely dependent on the symbiont to support his body and now Jay you are the parasite no John you are the parasite now that he didn't have bones

Jay could harden, soften and expand at will and withstand fire, ice and extreme heat and cold as well. He had advantage to all saving throws. He was... Just the softening powers activate. Fire, and also ice, and also hot, and also cold. Sorry, that broke me.

Also, he was super rich and he had a really cool car oh here's Jay talking I'm a super powered freak of nature and to add insult to injury I look like one and I know it this is a nightmare

okay to be fair he is that's like exactly how comic book characters talk to themselves. The nightmare had one last freaky permanent surprise for him. Jay suddenly felt a weird squirming sensation in his armpits. Within seconds, the symbiote suit formed a second pair of arms under Jay's own black clad and now mega muscular arms. This is not a fetish story. Though made

entirely of now we're Goro. Though made entirely of symbiote muscle goo they look just like his own suit covered arms inside Jay black goo nerves embedded in his flesh connected these symbiote arms to his brain so he could feel and control them.

Since they had organic web shooters like the ones embedded in Jay's own arms, this meant twice as much super webbing. In shock and not sure what to do, Jay turned on his TV, which he hadn't watched in several days. We all told our own ways. Okay. All right, take, take. Oh, Tucker Carlson. That'll call me down. He's such a good character.

He's made breakfast. He's gone. He's napped for a long time. He's watched television. Yeah. This is great. I feel like I'm really getting to know this character. Jay's the survivor's guy with the big muscles.

Walking several miles in this character's shoes. When Jay turned on his TV, he saw reports coming in on every channel that were all about one headline-grabbing subject. That big headline, of course, was an unstoppable new nationwide outbreak that started a week ago and was traced back to the blue rock from space that had fallen to Earth in a field near San Francisco. Thousands of people across... How near? You know, around.

It fell into Oakland. Surrounding San Francisco. The opening paragraph to this established that Antidia was in a small town near San Francisco, which I don't think exists. Yeah, no, yeah, okay. Never mind, that makes sense. I assume underwater. thousands of people across america were infected with black symbiotes just like the one poor jay was now trapped in for life we are all venom we are all trapped in this story doctor's offices were inundated with patients facing the same very sticky suit situation jay was in and there was no

cure or treatment to stop it. Containing its spread was impossible since its ability to hide inside the cells of its host made it undetectable until it formed the inescapable black super spider suit. At this rate, everyone would soon have one of these slimy, stretchy, and indestructible body-hugging permanent glue traps forever stuck on them. Not a fetish story.

Everyone. Not a fetish story, nope. Not a fetish story. Everyone would be... Everybody zip your pants back up. In fact, everyone found it kinda hot. Okay, I know it sounds great, but there are some downsides.

Everyone would be forced to be dependent on the parasites to walk and perform basic mundane tasks once their bones turned into muscles. Will they be spanked if they don't? Will they be spanked if they don't? Will they be spanked if they don't? At the same time, we'd gain the same superpowers Jay now had whether they wanted them or not.

At least Jay wouldn't be alone or too humiliated to be seen in public. Why hide if everyone is afflicted? Being merged with a symbiote that weighs twice as much as he does was still no laughing matter for Jay. Inside the very thick and very thing it felt like and was being stuck up to his earlobes in a rubbery living tar pit

that will never let go. The powers. Superwebs. Bonelessness. Really focused on that. With the power of bonelessness. Bonelessness. Really focused on that. With the power of bonelessness. Bonelessness powers activate. Yeah, that's my favorite secret move to use in Tony Hawk.

Bonelessness. Experiencing a bonelessness epidemic in this country. Bonelessness and whole body Hulk-like physique with these monstrous giant symbiote muscles everywhere and the mega strength to match that came with them would be a major life adjustment. Maybe. Jay would never get used to the freaky feeling of the shiny black organism attached to him and stuck

on him like rubbery super glue or being literally stuck in a lifelong host-parasite relationship where he was the dependent parasite. Not a fetish story. The next paragraph is literally describing all that again. You're the host, not

the parasite. I'm going to skip. Wait, there's one sentence in there. Where it's like, the most disturbing part was that being stuck in this gooey, stretchy, super sticky, glue rubber living tar pit body trap felt strangely pleasant. And he liked it.

Not a better story. Oh, what a horror. This sounds terrible. No one knew how they spread so quickly. In 10 days, half of the American population was affected and trapped for life in mega-muscular... Have I made this clear? Black symbiotes that completely covered them up to their chins and earlobes like Jay. Amazingly, civilization had not collapsed like Jay and many others initially thought this might cause it to.

In fact, it got much better. Bitcoin just went up in value. It got super hot and people were like, wow, Joe Rogan's right. might cause it to. In fact, it got much better. Bitcoin just went up in value. It got super hot and people were like, wow, Joe Rogan's right. Society continued to function. We got mega muscular capitalism. As if everyone was simply ignoring what had already happened to at least 50% of the people in every state in the mainland USA, with many also affected in Alaska and Hawaii, but not Canada. Why did you mention mainland USA?

Why did you do that? Why did you say mainland USA? But also the parts that are not part of mainland USA. But not Canada, because the symbiote apparently respects borders. Guam was just fine I find it hard to ignore big black spider people honestly I think that might change my daily routine

Jay was dumbfounded but at the same time glad America hadn't gone down the tubes though California seceding from the Union to become its own country. The day before the symbiotes were first noticed in it, and a few other states wasn't doing that former state

any favors. That was a sentence. The Democratic Republic of California or DRC. Alright, now this story is getting good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, listen,

I'm going to put a fucking gun to your head. And if you do not type the words Nancy Pelosi in the next five sentences, I will pull the trigger. This is just like unfettered wish fulfillment just vomited onto the screen. Hey, didn't Jay live in in alabama i wonder if the author lives in alabama jay's a good god-fearing boy from alabama but unlike those filthy idiotic drug-addled uneducated californians in san francisco typical so anyway

the democratic republic of california DRC, was facing several severe crises that had nothing to do with the symbiote outbreak. Yeah. Taxes. Sounds like taxes. And many of its wiser residents were now former residents living in neighboring states to avoid giving up their status as U.S. citizens.

Those still in the DRC were facing food shortages, drought, rampant crime, including a murder rate ten times that of the worst state that was still part of the USA. Which state is that? Are you going to tell us?

Maybe Alabama? Is it Alabama? This guy's writing is really coming into its own now. Yeah. Just a failing economy and various struggling, this is creepypasta, by the way, and various struggling social programs that were doing more harm than good, provoking increasingly violent protests that had already caused major destruction and dozens of deaths in several cities. For some reason, few people were symbiote infected in the DRC.

They were not touched by the goo gods. They were not worthy. And no reports of unclassified biology altering parasites or UBAPs. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. As the media called them had yet come from any other country.

USA, USA. Jay was still adjusting to his new symbiote-stuck life. This is the leftovers. This doesn't sound like a fetish now, but it is a fetish. Yeah. We're definitely still jacking off to this. My fucking anger fetish.

Yeah. The next three days saw the rest of the U.S. population get forced into rediscovering life as arachno-suites, as those afflicted with the symbiotes were now called. Reports of UBAPs also began to rapidly increase in the DRC. The riots in the DRC began to become less violent. It only took 21 days for the outbreak to infect the whole USA. Only three weeks.

America was literally muscle bound, which was, which now meant being stuck in several hundred. Oh my God. Which now meant being stuck in several hundred pounds of slimy symbiote goo muscle that merges DNA with yours against your will. Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It sticks to you like your worst combined glue, rubber, and fashion nightmare as a permanent living tar pit you wear that forces you to be the boneless this should have been the whole episode, man.

It forces you to be the boneless parasite that depends on it binding you to it for life. So, given everybody's superpowers made the riots less violent? Yeah, I don't understand. California was the last ones to be domed by this parasite. Held out as long as he could.

Applebee's has all-you-can-eat boneless parasites this week. It's pretty good. Is it in Cajun or Buffalo style? Yeah, yeah. I like him, Blaine. Strangely, there were still no reports of UBAPs or arachnosuitors in any other countries. USA! USA! Only in

good old God-fearing U.S. of A. Goo-fearing U.S.A. Yeah. Well, none of those other countries have the Second Amendment, which gives you the right. Yeah. No. Everyone else can play that joke to the end if they feel like it. Six feet and 630 muscular pounds was now average adult size.

So at six feet, nine inches and 790 pounds with his extra muscular symbiote, Jay was now considerably taller than average and one of the heaviest. Ladies. Keep going. Okay. His powerful symbiote had really muscled out for some reason some reason and gained the

additional 40 pounds when it formed the extra arms everyone had the extra arms regardless of his or her muscular new size though jay had been richly rewarded for finding a missing diamond wedding ring and returning it to the couple that belonged to three days after being infected and suited up by a symbiote and gave most of his reward money to a charity that helped Christian refugees escape unspeakable and horrific persecution in war-torn countries. Unspeakable persecution. Yeah.

Well, hold on. Is this WarioWare? He's just, like, popping off for side missions. Jump! Took an odd turn. Many of these people have been rescued with this donation, and Jay's feeder instinct business was... Feeder insect business. Oh, damn it.

Two thoughts there. Feeder instinct would have been funnier, but to be honest, that is not what it said. Feeder. instinct business was feeder insect business. Oh, damn it. Feeder instinct would have been funnier, but to be honest, that is not what it said. Feeder instinct. Feeders insect business was thriving. Jay was able to use the money he earned from selling feeder insects to go diving for tasty lionfish and other Oh, yeah!

The bait shop owner saves humanity. What do you think John B. Harrison Alabama does For a living With a symbiote he didn't need it This is not creepypasta This is therapy It's like writing therapy

It's creepypasta.com It's creepypasta okay This is the only place that didn't take the story down It just downvoted it And this is even only place that didn't take the story down it just downvoted it and this is even the worst voted story that's true actually nope there's worse ones on this website it's the

fourth or fifth worth story he didn't need a wetsuit fins or dive mask for seeing underwater and could stay where the fish he hunted were for much longer. His symbiote formed an organic dive mask and organic fins when he dove and enabled him to stay underwater for hours at a time.

Also, sometimes he finds golf balls that people hit and you can get like two dollars for them. He used the reward money for returning golf balls and he donated to charity. He convinced Mike Pence to overturn He used the reward money for returning golf balls. And he, like... Donated to charity. He convinced Mike Pence to overturn the election.

Anyway. And his superhero's name was the Beachcomber. So anyway, he stayed underwater for hours at a time without scuba gear by storing oxygen, which it released into his bloodstream while he was underwater. Okay, okay, Zarla, tag. On day 22, all the news outlets ran with a new headline. A clue to the origins of this bizarre epidemic had been found on the blue space rock that brought the first symbiote to Earth.

On the inside wall of the hollow blue stone was a mysterious set of symbols that could not have been created. Typical. Whoa. Those Hebrew letters formed words, and the message was clear. Be grateful for this gift. It is both warning and blessing. Use it wisely. Know who I am and remember my laws. Oh. Under this message was a line of golden Hebrew letters that spelled out an unmistakable name. It is both warning and blessing. Use it wisely. Know who I am and remember my laws. Under this message was a line of golden Hebrew letters that spelled out an unmistakable name.

Yeshua HaMashiach. I said that wrong. Mashiach. Mashiach. The Hebrew name for the Savior, Jesus Christ. Jesus wants you to become an Arachnist. And, right, like you don't need to drive that point home. You probably don't need to belabor this, right?

Like we got the picture. No, see, that was my twist. Okay, so this is, you know, that night, Jay and millions of other people across America had vivid dreams and visions about the symbiotes providing a path for humanity to make the world a much better place and bring an age of enlightenment and about

the rapture, tribulation, great white throne judgment. Some of the dreams were beautiful and others were horrifying. Everyone who bring an age of enlightenment and about the rapture, tribulation, great white throne judgment. Sentence ends. Some of the dreams were beautiful and others were horrifying. Everyone who had these visions and dreams saw and experienced all the same things in their sleep. Jay and all the other random symbiote-fused random Americans who had this experience were moved and compelled to tell those who didn't have visions what they saw that night.

I thought everyone had a symbiote at this point. Didn't they? We have. Oh, okay. And I'm guessing that they all vote for a certain political party. Have you heard the good news? The half goes in the rapture and half gets to be in a goo suit. Let's see.

The message and warning these dreams carried seemed to be that it was either the symbiotes or the end of days, and that many would have been left behind after the rapture to endure the tribulation, and thus the worst seven years in history. With 100-pound blood-red hailstones mixed with fire raining from the sky, rivers and lakes turning into deadly poisonous blood, unimaginable horrors at the hands of the demon beast, and a foul plague worse than any currently known illness on all those who chose to take the evil shapeshifting beast's mark.

Evil shapeshifting is not the suit. It's not the goo suit. No, that's not at all. That's the gift. That's Jesus' goo suit. Yeah, that's... This vile disease had horrifying symptoms. Fevered madness, gut-wrenching, stabbing stomach pain, bloody vomiting and diarrhea, black

and green necrotic lesions, unbearably painful festering boils and sores filled with oozing, reeking disease spreading green and yellow pus that attracted flies and fat wriggling flesh-burrowing maggots with horrific hook-like mandibles and frequent infestation with lice, ticks and flesh-eating worms and revolting black leeches that can

kill in an absolutely repulsive manner, reduce some of the ghastly symptoms of this awful disease and that's why you have to pray to Jesus or you're going to go to hell, and that's what's going to happen to you. This whole story, like, this was... This is the written word hell house. This story was written by John Less-is-for-pussies Harris.

You learn about this in Sunday school. The symbiotes were a bizarre and stern wake-up call to a wayward nation. It headed down a terrible path. See, this wasn't just a fetish. I can jerk off to Jesus' gift, but it's actually for a reason. It's good. Freaky and disgusting as they were, they were far better than what would soon come if America

and the rest of the world continued on its appalling and hopelessly depressing current path. These life-upturning organisms had saved the country rather than destroying it. Me salivating over their muscularness is not related. Jay smiled as he watched an uplifting report about how people were actually heeding the message of the Me salivating over their muscularness is not related. Just a bonus.

Jay smiled as he watched an uplifting report about how people were actually heeding the message of the visions from the night before. The social disaster the last two decades had turned the USA, and by extension the rest of the world, into was already changing for the better. Finally, Jay shouted, at last, at long last, at last, it's about freaking time people started caring. I was afraid I'd have to endure the agony of spending the rest of my life helplessly watching the world slowly die in front of me. I'm only in my mid-thirties, but until two weeks ago the state of affairs on this planet made me feel like I was in my mid-nineties. Thank God himself

that nightmare's over. John, I've got Kirk Cameron on the phone and he says tone it down a bit. My boners will save this world he does like the goo suit though this thing I'm stuck in infused with it's no picnic but being symbiote stuck for life is still better than living out the rest of my life on a planet that's completely intolerable

what have been if this never happened and the end times didn't come Jay's neighbor agreed thanks Jay's neighbor thanks a bunch, buddy! You know, like, aside from giving everyone superpowers, like, how does that fix everything? Like, it didn't say it made them more peaceful,

it didn't, or, like, more kind or generous to each other, like... Reading between the lines, like, the symbiote went to the right people, I guess? And then what, did they just jerk off and stop bothering people, I guess. And then what are they? They just jerk off and stop bothering people, I guess. No, they beat up liberals. This story was written by John Harris,

and John is a name that starts with a J. Oh, wait, wait. No new big stories broke on any of the news stations for the rest of day 23. But after sunset... The news today, nothing. Nothing at all. No news, just the goo suit. Don't you

love your goo suit? Look how muscular it is. But multiple football-sized and shaped glowing blue meteors identical to the first symbiote-containing stone were seen and reported by witnesses falling from the sky around the world, just like America. Each and every country on Earth received one glowing blue meteorite.

Credit to John B. Harris. Did, like, micro-n Did Micronations get tiny ones? Sealand got one, yeah. Did the Pitcairn Islands get one? One of the comments is, how is this a creepypasta? It's some terrible version of a misguided comic book scenario.

I couldn't finish this. It's part incoherent rambling, part superhero wish list. Purple Bobsicle says, this seems like a Venom ripoff. What? You mean the several points in the story where he said this is a ripoff of Venom?

The multiple times that he said Venom suit? What a fucking terrible story. What a fucking terrible story because he gets the symbiote and nothing happens. Like, no action takes place

but the United States turns holy as a result. Like, they all get the suit, and it makes them muscular, and then they're like, and then liberals go away. Yeah. Look, Lemon, I know that it wasn't a very good story, but it was also long. It was like 45 minutes.

It was long, so Marvel's good option. 60% of the story was him describing the muscliness and gooeyness of the suit. In various ways. Also, no bones. What are the muscles attached to? Shut up.

I had some other plans for the rest of our things, but I didn't realize that story would take four days to read. So we're going to have to skip down to this story. It is called The Town of Blanche. The Town of Blanche has only one tag. It's one of the worst rated stories on this. A rating of 2.62 from 3,000

votes. Boots, this only has the tag of locations and sites. So that's pretty good. You want to tell me about The Town of Blanche, please? The Town of Blanche was written by... Oh, this one doesn't say.

Okay. If you visit Francis Cote d'Azur in your lifetime, do everything you can to avoid a small town called Blanche. Okay. Well, is that because Azure means blue and then Blanche means white? Story's just over. It's like, okay, bye. That's it.

I was in the country once with my parents around eight years ago I was 12 at the time I am now 20 we were on family vacation and we found ourselves looking for a place to get some rest and enjoy some of the local color we were

getting because it was called Blanche we were getting really hungry on the road so it was called Blanche. We were getting really hungry on the road. So it was with some luck that a town unmarked on our map rose unexpectedly on the horizon. This was the town of Blanche. Immediately after we entered Blanche, we noticed that the colors of the houses

were darker than anything I had seen in my entire life. It's not like they were gray or black. They were normal colors for walls. They just look not right. It's hard to explain. Almost like it was a color that we don't even have a word for because it's so dark and strange. Get off the stage, Lovecraft. word for because it's so dark and strange get off the stage lovecraft a few minutes after driving around the town we all began to notice the fishy stench like a friday market except for the fact

that no fish were being sold the people in the town also had a really weird skin tone almost frostbitten and tinged a deep blue. If I recall correctly, my father said something like, these guys sure look like the sea. And then a skeleton popped out! We had originally

planned to stay in the town for a while, but my mother and my sister were so disturbed by the creepy atmosphere of the town's denizens that they insisted we keep driving and find a different town to stay the night. My whole family was racist. When we arrived to the next town, it was like we all gave a gigantic sigh of relief at once. We felt that we were back in normal civilization. However, the people who ran the inn that we stayed at

in the second town did tell us some very freaky stories about Blanche. Stories that made us really glad we didn't stay there. First draft of Shadow of Innsmouth is pretty weak. So it's just the Shadow over Innsmouth in France. Sarli, you gave me an idea for like a new, it'd be like a lost HP Lovecraft. And it was like,

the detective went to a town and black people were there. It's like half of his stories. He went into a shop and the shopkeeper was black. It's like a known phrase. He's being like, expand on how black the shopkeeper was. Be racist as possible. be racist as possible.

This is one of the very, very worst stories our doctor interrogative, our document provider points out. This is not actually the worst story, so we're cheating a little bit. The worst story in this document is called Dear Abby. It contains the tags of madness,

paranoia, and mental illness. But doctor interrogative says, technically the worst of madness, paranoia, and mental illness. But Dr. Interrogative says, technically the worst rated story on the site, but it's not bad enough in my opinion and overly long. So instead we're going to scroll just as slightly up to this story called Horrors of the Commonwealth. Is it fine to take the one, please?

Horrors of the Commonwealth. Tags include deaths, murders, murders and disappearances cruelty of men deaths again post-apocalyptic and short the best tag of all its rating is 1.72 out of 10 for 90 votes wow the ground was dry and covered in fallen pine needles rotting away back into the earth from which they came the smell of moss and pine was thick engulfing cliff's nostrils there's no apostrophe there but i'm assuming cliff is a person it was not a discomforting scent, rather sweet, but there was something more. And it was discomforting, unwelcoming, and growing.

Now that it was no longer hidden in the aroma of the woods, it now carried as an aroma of its own, growing stronger like the sensation of a discovered wound. He felt unnerved and decided he would be better off heading his way back to camp. Find another spot to pee. If Clift turned right to leave, life may have been a little easier. There would be

less nightmares, less things rattling Oh, this is the second story we're turning left. It's the worst thing that happened. It's the sinister direction. It is the sinister direction. It is the sinister direction. Oh, wow. Less nightmares, less things rattling the cage in his head.

Every waking hour of every waking day. But he did not turn right. He's at the podium just flipping through his notes. Nightmares. Almost immediately after he turned left, he found her, the girl the group was chasing yesterday.

Chasing her around like a chicken that escaped the coop, he thought. She was still popular expression. We're going in media res here. Yeah. She was still covered in mud, now dried into clinging lumps of dirt

she was laying on her back one arm stretched out in a yawn what the arm was yawning I guess and the other placed clumsily at her side she was naked down to the skin no clothes in sight as in a place

and this made Cliff feel very nervous. Oh dear lady, I'm sorry. Excuse me, miss. His first reaction was to look away as his foster father had taught him before to never peek at a naked girl

especially one so young. Of course, he was only 12 years old and his curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he turned his head back to her. This was his second mistake. She stabbed him! Man, Cliff's just messing up left and right here.

Yeah. Stupid kid. She was not sleeping. A clear realization he had almost instantly and wished to God he hadn't wished he had left, assuming she was in a deep slumber. In a way, she was. She was dead.

I guess that... Fuck yeah! She wasn't sleeping, yeah, that's true. Curtain! What a rollercoaster ride this paragraph has been so far. But then Cliff felt his heart stop in his chest and found it difficult to stand. The urge to cry

fell over him like a trap net. Trying to pull him down to the ground and keep him there for the hunter to find. Hunter of what? The feeling meant to own him entirely but he could not let it. He had to stay strong. If Ford ever saw him entirely, but he could not let it. He had to stay strong. If Ford ever saw him cry, he would surely give him something real to cry about.

Harrison Ford? Was this not real? He looked, this time really looked at what he was seeing, and his stomach tightened like a drum. His knees went numb. I love similes. His knees went numb, but he still managed to stand. Through the clumpy mess of mud, he could see her face, twisted in a tangle of knots and bruises, deforming her, eyes swollen shut. He remembered how she looked before.

Beautiful, as much as a mud-writhed 14-year-old could be. Now she lay like a crude clay sculpture that had been mutilated by a drunk, petty competitor. What? My pottery class. There was a dark blue ring around her neck, swollen twice its normal size, and his eyes ventured down.

What instrument was that dark blue ring like? I need a comparison. I can't visualize it. Was it a tambourine? Yeah. like? I need a comparison. I can't visualize it. Is it a tambourine? Yeah. His eyes ventured down. This was it. His biggest mistake.

Another one. Three so far. Three biggest mistakes. I hope there's like an entire WWF audience. One! His biggest mistake was blood. He saw blood.

Blood! What had set everything into motion over his last remaining days as a child. The child he had denied himself to be, that Ford had denied him. That set the images that would not stop, nightmares that would not end. Blood! It covered her private places completely, dried to a thin

brown crust, matting down the little pubic hair she had grown in her compromised adolescence. I don't like that sentence. That sentence that you wrote there, Cliff. Bell biffed a foe, no. Cliff clapped his hands painfully over his face

and at last the tears came, treacherous and screaming with freedom. He could feel the hot, wet drops running through the spaces between his fingers. Oh God, Cliff choked under his breathe, and hideous grief and shame washed over him like an acid bath. Oh, my God, he choked again,

not removing his hands, tears flowing faster and hotter through his hands. She was a virgin, he thought numbly. She was 14 years old, and a virgin she had been. The end. Medical. Yeah, yeah, no. Whoa!

Good job, the Commonwealth. That's fucking rule. Oh, boy. Jesus Christ. Horrors of the Commonwealth. Horrors of the Commonwealth. That was the Horrors of the Commonwealth. There was like multiple points in that story

where I was like, oh no, where is this going? Nowhere. It's going nowhere. The things that actually happen in the story are Cliff saw a body. Yeah. Yep. That body, but that body did have blood. Blood.

I love the first comma on the story that says, men writing women. That's a much better joke than any of us have. Yeah. We've been outdone. That's true. You just won the episode. No. Can I find more comments from you you're funnier than us

oh good you could thumbs up it as a guest okay yeah yeah yeah thumbs up the shit out of that comment oh what did we learn from any of this don't turn left like with many

creative writing sites, people just kind of use it as a place to put their issues down on the page. I do like the exercise of just finding the worst things on the site. It's like most of what's on the site, I'm sure,

is pretty bad, but boy, was this bad. I love that. Or so I should let you Most of what's on the site, I'm sure, is pretty bad. But boy, was this bad. Yeah. I love that. More sites should let you sort by lowest rated. Oh, it's so good. Yeah. Also, it doesn't matter what the site is,

somebody will put a fetish story on it. Yeah. Not even hiding. Does, like, Literotica have that feature? Like, can you like worst porn story? He put his dick in her then he came to the end. I'm gonna look.

Lemon, a story of that quality wouldn't even get you on like the first few pages of search results for worst stories. You're probably right. I feel like there was there was two different kinds of stories that are in the worst here

and the first one is like there was a guy and he was dead that's the one story and then the other story is there was a guy my fucking weird issues that guy was dead but was he muscly and boneless

that guy really loved having no bones that was a weird part of his fetish god damn love it was now 790 pounds because the arms were 40 pounds no yeah I'm into I'm into him. I'm into John, what is his name? John from Alabama?

John B. Harris. John B. Harris, the insect farm, insect feeder. Also incel. Incel insect feeder. If only California wasn't a part of the U.S., that would solve all our problems. California, woo! We resisted the big goo muscle monsters

and we're the bad guys for some reason. Yeah. Haiti and the Dominican Republic got their own individual meteors. I mean, like, there's just no, like, none of these stories have, I mean, a narrative is one thing, right? Like, a narrative is kind of difficult

to write. But, like, the very concept of cause and effect shouldn't be hard to write, right? Like, that should be pretty basic. Of, like, a man was punched, he fell down. They can't even do that. They're like, a man fell down! And then, like, three paragraphs later, it's because he was punched. He fell down. They can't even do that. They're like, a man fell down. And then like three paragraphs later,

it's because he was punched. Yeah. There was a lot of efforts to sound very literally, literaries, like the last one with all the similes and stuff like that.

It was trying very hard. Our website is always thefbl.us. There's a bunch of episodes on there that you can listen to if you choose to. Bye.EFBL.US. There's a bunch of episodes on there that you can listen to if you choose to. Bye.

Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Let's see. Bye. Bye. Okay, bye.

Oh, but hey, Boots. Bye from the Boots podcast. Oh, Boots, I didn't know you were. Come on back. Y'all come back now, you hear? You know, Boots, I really wish you would have brought that same energy to the episode. I don't need your fucking notes! Oh, my God.

Oh, classic boots. Classic boots. Doris, get out your poison pants and take a letter. I have to write to Count Dracula. You know, he wrote me a letter. All right, Doris. Dear Count Dracula, I am writing to you from Cucamonga. Cucamonga, the weather is lovely.

The nausea of noon. The wind is always blowing. Boots, what are the lyrics to Greensleeves? I went for a walk and I got my sleeves. They got very green. It's a beautiful ballad. In the folds of my verdant green sleeves. It literally is an entire song.

Green sleeves, the sleeves are green. The greenest sleeves you've ever seen. A 23-minute song about how green his sleeves are. Verse 12, no seriously. Oh my god, they're so green. Guy up on a karaoke stage sweating. Remember it being this long. Jesus.

What synonyms are there for green? God. The king and queen just circling their hands like, get on with it. Queen rhymes with green. That's very good. This one's dedicated for the queen. I call this queen sleeves. Yeah, you see my sleeves.

It's popping. It's popping. Green sleeves, my sleeves are green. The hurry up motion from the queen. The F plus green sleeves lyric writing challenge. Apparently Google Docs has a character limit? Who would have thought? That's an hour of garbage day.

We get people on ball pit to submit lyrics for green sleeves and then make Adam sing them for an hour. Oh, the more you say that, it's really actually pretty good. Yeah, no, I want an hour of Adam doing lyrics to green sleeves.