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Why You Shouldn't Find Strange VHS Tapes In Your Garbage Can (A Comedic "Horror" Story)


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Starting off, I'm going to say that this is a trollpasta, but since the wiki is dead; mainly since people were being assholes on there, it's kinda hard for me post this somewhere. So I decided to post to doomworld lmao. Also, there will be some tense-swaps here and there, mainly to make fun of creepypastas in general.

 

 

Hey you! Yeah you, have you ever found a weird vhs tape in your garbage, because I know I did; I'll explain how I got this weird tape. I had just gotten back from walmart; mainly since I live in the more shitter parts of town, and well, let's just say that the local rednecks were rubbing off on me.. Eh, anyways, I had gotten into my driveway, only to see a kid in cheap looking tracksuit drop a vhs tape into my garbage pail. Now, at first I was gonna ask the kid on what crew he was representin', but since I was still wearing my flags, I decided against asking the kid. Fucking gang-wars...

 

After the kid left, I walked up to my garbage can and fished the vhs tape out of it; it was navy-blue and had a rather, well, disheveled looking sticker. The sticker itself had some writing in permanent marker in a language that I couldn't understand; but judging from the fact that the language was just a bunch of triangles and inverted triangles with weird squiggly lines and eyes all over the triangles, I probably had no chance learning it.

 

"Another unfamiliar vhs tape.." I heard a voice mutter from behind me; I immediately turned around and got my glock outta my pocket, only to see that no one was there, now like I said before, I'm in the more worse off parts of town, so that includes a lot of gang violence. But I doubt that you really care about that, in fact, you're probably screaming at your computer screen asking me to continue with the story; oh, I'm getting to the story alright..

 

Anyways, I put the tape into my vcr; which was pretty hard for me, mainly since I'm mostly illiterate compared to most people; *Sigh* fuck the public school system.. Eh, anyways, I pressed play on the remote and grabbed some popcorn; oh and of course! I grabbed a nice ice cold glass of fanta from my kitchen counter, kept ice-cold by my pet chicken, which I've owned since the 1980's muthafucka!

 

"Press play on that remote, and I'll press play on your genitals!" The voice from before screamed into my left ear sensually; I was absolutely horrified, mostly since one of my biggest fears was someone screaming into my ears; I sure got tears from my fears. After the voice got done screaming about how the fanta I was drinking was evil, I looked back at the television screen, only to see something horrifying. On the screen, there was picture of the abandoned church I was born in; now, I was angry, not only because of how much sentiment was attached to that church, but also since it was the same location in which I was initiated into my crew, so I was naturally pissed at the tape's knowledge of the place.

 

More strange pictures appeared on the tv screen, the most common being those of my strange exploits throughout the city; oh, whatever lewd bastard took these pictures must of had a field day from those pictures of when I had to take down some guys on motorcycles while waiting for a friend to get back from the store. And after those pictures passed, I heard loud knocking coming from my front door, and of course since my tv and vcr were in the living room, which was really just a couch near the front door while the vcr and tv sat on a coffee table, I heard the knocking up close and personal.

 

After the knocking stopped, I heard loud german expletives coming from the front door, and before I knew it, the door flew of off it's hinges and smashed into the tv; that pissed me off, so I pulled out my glock and aimed towards the now vacant doorway, and I was horrified at the sight before my very eyes. Three nazis dressed in SS honor-guard uniforms ran through the doorway and aimed their guns at me; the one on the left held a STG44 in his gloved hands, while to other two on the right wielded MP40s, and all three aimed their guns at my face.

 

"Vhere is ze fucking tape amerimutt!" The one in the middle yelled at me; now at first, I thought that the fanta I drank was expired, and I was having hallucinations from the expired soda, but I then realized that soda, especially fanta never expires. So I guess you can say that I was quite, disheveled from this experience.

 

I immediately pulled the trigger on my glock, and then hopped behind my couch, hoping that none of the crazy germans in my house would shoot me at point-blank range. I then grabbed the sawed-off shotgun that was underneath my couch and shot one of the nazis, after that, I then ran towards my bathroom as the two other germans chased me; the bathroom door closed and locked, and before I knew it, I was alone again.

 

I felt sick, like, really really sick after that fucked up experience. And other then that, I looked around my bathroom for the rocket launcher under my sink; god I love america.. Anyways, I found the rocket launcher, only to realize that I couldn't use it in my house. So I decided to walk out of my bathroom and use the shotgun again.

 

"Y'all muthafuckas want me! Well now y'all punk ass bitches got me!" I screamed while firing the two uzis in my hands; those german boys in blue didn't stand a chance. And it was delicious, absolutely delicious.

 

After getting done with taking out the 'trash', I sat down on my bullet-ridden couch and cracked open a cold can of fanta; just like mother said, if it ain't cold, then it ain't worth it; only basic hoes like it warm. Oh, I miss my mother.. Anyways, after drinking the fanta, I noticed something disturbing, the three nazis that I gunned down were missing, and I don't mean that they got up and left, no, I mean that they turned into weird puddles of goop, and for some weird ass reason, the goop was orange; I didn't care, after all, why should I care about dead nazis turning into puddles of slime, that's not my place!

 

Oh, I was a dumbass, that's for sure. Before I knew it, someone knocked me out by smashing a beer bottle against the back of my head; I was angry for the briefest of moments, but it did not matter, for I was now in a dark room somewhere.

 

"I see that you have woken up, my newest slave," A strangely accented voice said from the darkness. "Welcome to my dungeon; I am the dungeon master, and I will force you to live out your D E E P  D A R K  F A N T A S I E S."

 

I screamed, I screamed louder then any human on earth could ever scream, because I knew what my fate was. To star in shitty music videos accompanied by footage of locker room wrestling; oh how I took my life for granted, shit.. If you're reading this, please don't watch strange vhs tapes you find in the garbage, otherwise, you'll become another slave in HIS dungeon, and you don't want that; and as I type out this warning, I can feel that bitchy redhead pressing the M9 beretta into the back of my skull. Please, please, please don't watch those vhs tapes..

 

 

(THIS MESSAGE IS SPONSORED BY THE ULTOR CORPORATION.)

 

Hope you enjoyed this horrendous piece of 'literature', because I enjoyed writing.. For a minute that is.

 

Edited by CrystalHawk_Doom

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Just giving you the constructive criticism, not the third degree.....okay.

 

   Whelp, I think it was okay in general, but maybe you could do some practice exercises, like "poetry you write, not to keep, but to throw away". Try writing short to medium sized poems, 20 to 40 lines and just toss them. It could help you get over any "separation anxieties" you might have. No need to get crucified by a weird memory that you've already personally had closure of.

 

Then write us some more. Go long if you want to and let the people complain about length; It's not the same story without half of the content.

 

I'm not a very heavy reader myself, but I know I take the time to read at least one or two 120+ page books a year.

Have you read (I get them at the library): A Star Wars book? Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? A mystery book (like Agatha Christie)? A short story?

 

What is on your "essential reading" list?

 

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I would call this terrible, but then I'd be ignoring your reason for posting this, which doesn't exist. So, instead, I'm going to like this post.

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