I'm glad to hear it. [Not really. He's quite annoyed at how much that hammer really hurt.]
Perhaps it's good you didn't smash "better", as you nearly broke my femur. But I suppose we can let bygones be bygones. [Which means no AM still hates you.]
hey, i'm the guy with the bear skull who was chasing you around the other day. we ended up talking a while. figured i'd say sorry properly. you wanna go for drinks or something?
I'm more of a beer guy, but I'll drink pretty much anything. Catch you there.
[So it's not much later that he shows up at the bar, not looking much different than before except for the lack of abject panic. He glances around, keeping an eye out for hat guy.
And hey, what do you know, he isn't hard to spot at all.]
Remember giving anyone directions to your pad a while back?
Still squatting there, I hope.
Because, at that address, whether you're going out or in at dawn, or, heck, will need to stumble on it later, a... large (not... furniture-sized, but large) cardboard box will appear at the doorstep.
Wrapped in wayyyy too much duct tape. Under one of those strips of it is... a simple, folded white piece of paper.
On the underside of it - that is, that facing the box - whether this'll be seen at all, be seen via somehow managing not to shred it, or... be seen by putting the pieces back together after it is shredded, there'll be written, in black marker ink:
Merry Christmas!
With little snowflakes, bells, trees, and stick-reindeer drawn around it, and everything!
It... is February, but who cares, right?
Inside of the box, anyhoo, is... more tape, for starters, don't ask how it got there. And an abundance of... tiny white-and-primary-color balloons; apparently, someone lost patience with trying to get ahold of bubble wrap.
Floating among those, however, is...
...what certainly appears to be a large gun. About two-and-a-half feet long.
Not loaded, or anything, but there are a couple of squat cylinders also... floating indiscriminately in the package - metal, painted red. Smelling like fuel.
And, indeed, only a couple.
Should Wrench take the plunge and launch 'em - mind, only one'll fit into the barrel at a time - he'll get one approximately-twenty-foot-diameter fire-burst on each landing.
And should a reminder be necessary on where this is coming from, there's... another slip of paper, inside the package. A little more widely- and inkily-scratched out, reading:
[Not only is Wrench still squatting there, he basically owns the place now that the landlord and any other tenants have been mysteriously eaten by a monster. What a shame, what a rotten way to die, et cetera et cetera.
He does almost trip over the thing on his way back in, but it's too obvious to actually trip over it, totally, definitely.
So anyway he shoves the thing inside before giving the box a good look. Not a long look, though, because he must know what's in there, and the duct tape starts coming off. And off. And off. Man, that's a lotta tape.
He does manage to catch the weirdly festive message on his journey to the center of the package, and baffling as it is, it's not that weird, because holidays are all relative or something, whatever.
So he gets it open, and there's little balloons everywhere, which is its own kind of festive, and when he really gets into the meat of the thing...
Well, it's beautiful.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
Late Christmas and early birthday all in one.
The second he stops admiring the thing long enough to grab his laptop, he shoots off a message to Lucas. It's short, sweet, and to the point:]
There once was a boy who was a Halloween fanatic. He loved dressing up for Halloween, he loved pulling pranks and watching horror movies, and above everything else... he loved candy. One fateful year, while he went trick-or-treating, he visited a house. This house was creepy as hell! It was big, it was old, it smelled like a grandmother and it was owned by a happy, old rich couple. The boy came here thinking that he would be handed out big chocolate bars, because it was a rich person's house but when he knocked on their door... he was handed a bag of that shitty candy that nobody likes! Tootsie rolls, shitty flavoured dum-dums, those weird... peanut things... needless to say, the boy was heartbroken. He was so heartbroken that he died, right there on their porch and now, every Halloween he goes out and finds people to curse. He wants everyone to suffer the same way he did!
Everybody is already suffering from his curse!! Send this to ten people to break the curse, or to avoid getting cursed, or you'll be stuck looking freakier than usual for the rest of your life!!!!!!!!!!
Well this place is FUCKING MAGIC, Wrench, anything could happen!!!! So maybe you best get on sending so you don't have to put up with shit creepypasta???????
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
<0100000101001101>
<WRENCH>
I probably would have been a LITTLE less smashy normally... or I would've smashed BETTEr. DON'T WORRY about it.
<0100000101001101>
Perhaps it's good you didn't smash "better", as you nearly broke my femur. But I suppose we can let bygones be bygones. [Which means no AM still hates you.]
<WRENCH>
But yeah, BYGONES and shit. Try putting some ICE on the femur.
<boone>
<WRENCH>
SURE, man, let's hang out. I'm done with being FREAKED the FUCK out.
<boone>
<WRENCH>
Got a favorite place or anything, or should we just go CRAWLING til we find something that doesn't SUCK?
<boone>
<WRENCH>
[So it's not much later that he shows up at the bar, not looking much different than before except for the lack of abject panic. He glances around, keeping an eye out for hat guy.
And hey, what do you know, he isn't hard to spot at all.]
Nice hat.
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02/11
Remember giving anyone directions to your pad a while back?
Still squatting there, I hope.
Because, at that address, whether you're going out or in at dawn, or, heck, will need to stumble on it later, a... large (not... furniture-sized, but large) cardboard box will appear at the doorstep.
Wrapped in wayyyy too much duct tape. Under one of those strips of it is... a simple, folded white piece of paper.
On the underside of it - that is, that facing the box - whether this'll be seen at all, be seen via somehow managing not to shred it, or... be seen by putting the pieces back together after it is shredded, there'll be written, in black marker ink:
Merry Christmas!
With little snowflakes, bells, trees, and stick-reindeer drawn around it, and everything!
It... is February, but who cares, right?
Inside of the box, anyhoo, is... more tape, for starters, don't ask how it got there. And an abundance of... tiny white-and-primary-color balloons; apparently, someone lost patience with trying to get ahold of bubble wrap.
Floating among those, however, is...
...what certainly appears to be a large gun. About two-and-a-half feet long.
Not loaded, or anything, but there are a couple of squat cylinders also... floating indiscriminately in the package - metal, painted red. Smelling like fuel.
And, indeed, only a couple.
Should Wrench take the plunge and launch 'em - mind, only one'll fit into the barrel at a time - he'll get one approximately-twenty-foot-diameter fire-burst on each landing.
And should a reminder be necessary on where this is coming from, there's... another slip of paper, inside the package. A little more widely- and inkily-scratched out, reading:
Still hungry for some roast pork?]
no subject
He does almost trip over the thing on his way back in, but it's too obvious to actually trip over it, totally, definitely.
So anyway he shoves the thing inside before giving the box a good look. Not a long look, though, because he must know what's in there, and the duct tape starts coming off. And off. And off. Man, that's a lotta tape.
He does manage to catch the weirdly festive message on his journey to the center of the package, and baffling as it is, it's not that weird, because holidays are all relative or something, whatever.
So he gets it open, and there's little balloons everywhere, which is its own kind of festive, and when he really gets into the meat of the thing...
Well, it's beautiful.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
Late Christmas and early birthday all in one.
The second he stops admiring the thing long enough to grab his laptop, he shoots off a message to Lucas. It's short, sweet, and to the point:]
DUUUUUUUUUUUDE.
[He likes it!]
no subject
Except he was totally all bound-up thinkin' about how Wrench was going to react.
He practically slaps up his laptop grinning and giggling up a storm...!]
Who died???
[Cute.]
no subject
Some guy I ate before I practically tripped over this shit but that's beside the point.
[Ha ha.]
But DUUUUUUUUDE!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!! This requires A LOT of exclamation points !!!!!!!!!!
You're THE BeST, dude.
no subject
Aaaaand onward, let 'im take a bow.]
Awwwww so you got it???
[You left it on his friggin' doorstep, Lucas, stop playing aw-shucks.]
Just don't prove me wrong in thinking it's gonna be in damn good hands, brother!
>:)
[Did you... just...]
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<C_137>
<WRENCH>
<C_137>
WTF are you attaching it to anyway?
<WRENCH>
Mostly I'm trying to hook a bunch of computers together. And other shit but mostly that.
Re: <WRENCH>
What other shit are we talking about?
WTF are you powering with your supercomputer?
<WRENCH>
<C_137>
<WRENCH>
<C_137>
<WRENCH>
10/01
There once was a boy who was a Halloween fanatic. He loved dressing up for Halloween, he loved pulling pranks and watching horror movies, and above everything else... he loved candy. One fateful year, while he went trick-or-treating, he visited a house. This house was creepy as hell! It was big, it was old, it smelled like a grandmother and it was owned by a happy, old rich couple. The boy came here thinking that he would be handed out big chocolate bars, because it was a rich person's house but when he knocked on their door... he was handed a bag of that shitty candy that nobody likes! Tootsie rolls, shitty flavoured dum-dums, those weird... peanut things... needless to say, the boy was heartbroken. He was so heartbroken that he died, right there on their porch and now, every Halloween he goes out and finds people to curse. He wants everyone to suffer the same way he did!
Everybody is already suffering from his curse!! Send this to ten people to break the curse, or to avoid getting cursed, or you'll be stuck looking freakier than usual for the rest of your life!!!!!!!!!!
<WRENCH>
And there was all this HYPERREALISTIC BLOOD!!!
And then YOU WERE THE DEMONS!!!!!!!!
<LCerberus>
<WRENCH>
<LCerberus>
So maybe you best get on sending so you don't have to put up with shit creepypasta???????
[He is smiling so hard.]
<WRENCH>
<LCerberus>
<WRENCH>