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The Hip Hop Lines of the 2010s
I usually do an annual write up but here’s a bonus. NOTE: These are lyrics that somewhat defined the artists who in turn defined 2010-2019. These ARE NOT the best lines said by an artist nor their most memorable bars. Most of these lines also are from early in the decade/career as they seem fitting (self-fulfilling prophecy and shit). Also, this list is popularity over skill. Any of the relatively smaller artists mentioned are from my own bias of their skill and impact/notoriety in hip hop during the 2010s. I ask posters to tell me their favorite/memorable lines, and to try and put me onto an artist I perhaps never listened to. There are several of my favorites that I simply cannot put on here or are regulated to the honorable mentions. This is a thick list so I cannot do a proper write up for all entries.
“Rap is the new rock ‘n’ roll! We the rock stars!” - Kanye West, BBC Radio 1 Interview
The most defining line of rap this past decade is not from a song, but is from a Kanye rant. My feelings on Mr. West has changed over the years, and while I disagree with his recent statements, this quote from 2013 is still stands. Rap is the new rock. Rap is now the genre that is at the top. Rap is the genre full of the “bad influences” that middle America is too ignorant to actual look at. Rap is the genre with the bad words, the political statements, the party tracks, the nonsense, the soul, the spirit, the drug overdoses, the groupies, the strong women, the breakoffs into sub-genres, etc. After 40 years, Hip Hop music is the dominant genre and its influence is worldwide. We can’t be stopped.
“If I die, I’m a legend,” – Drake, Legend
I remember when Best I Never Had dropped its music video and my sister called me into the living room to watch it on MTV2. Halfway through, I asked her, “Isn’t that the wheelchair dude on that show you like?” Who fucking knew that Jimmy from Degrassi would turn into the biggest star of the 2010s. Love him, hate him, he’s broken records in sales/streaming and he made a lot of money in the meantime. When Drake said this bar in 2015, there was some arguments, but he’s right: If he died at that position, his fans would force the culture to see him as a legend. And despite my issues with him, I can name three) strongreasons that makes his statement true. A toast to the Champagne Papi.
“Step on my neck and get blood on your Nike checks. I don't mind 'cause one day you'll respect - The good kid, m.A.A.d city” – Kendrick Lamar, good kid
Despite other rappers being more popular than him in certain circles of entertainment, Kendrick Lamar has earned his position as the King of Hip Hop. From his rise under Dre to beating Drake in sales, Kendrick’s journey to the top was an amazing experience for listeners. In three fantastic albums, Kendrick cemented his legacy in the 2010s and until another rapper can outdo him, he holds the crown. (Plus, three great albums tends to throws you into GOAT talk). Put it this way: Kendrick Lamar is a better rapper than your favorite rapper. His “throwaway” album was great. His soundtrack album was great. And yes, MAAD city is the better song, but dammit, the song before it should get loved as well.
“I can’t relate to my peers. I’d rather live outside. I’d rather chip my pride than lose my mind” – Frank Ocean, Siegfried “I’m a fucking walking paradox” – Tyler, the Creator, Yonkers “It hurt cuz I can’t keep a date or put personal time in, or reverse to the times when my face didn’t surprise you before I did the shit that earned me my term on that island” – Earl Sweatshirt, Faucet
This applies to the previous three lines: At the start of the decade, Earl was rapping about sexual assault, Tyler was pissing every one off, and Frank was putting out projects at a steady rate. Oh yeah, they also were all form the same group, named “Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All” which is connected to “Golf Wang” “Flog Gnaw,” and had a few members appear in the beloved “Gucci Gucci” music video with Kreashawn (more about that in another thread). The changes from 2011 OF to the standalone acts of Tyler, Earl, and Frank are crazy to review. Others have, so I won’t, but man I’m glad to have witnessed these three artist grow in and out of their music.
“I'm just playing, but all good jokes contain true shit, same rope you climb up on, they'll hang you with” – J. Cole, Fire Squad
I consider Cole the amongst Drake and Kendrick as the “Three Musketeers” of 2010s rap, at least popularity wise. The trio laid down so many good tracks. J. Cole fits a lot of what people wanted from a rapper after the ringtone-rap era. But, once he started doing it, it’s like people didn’t want it anymore. Folks called him boring, but everyone knew he could spit. In comes 2014 FHD, and boy, Cole cemented his place in the Big 3, and he’s pretty good at ball, too. While 4 Your Eyez Only and KOD split some fans apart, I liked the albums. He has pushed his image as a bigger brother in rap, or at least, a middle child, so let’s see what he can do in 2020.
“The kid that used to pitch bricks can't be pigeonholed” – Jay-Z, Family Feud
In the third decade of his (studio album) career, Jay has blessed us with another classic in the form of 4:44, expressing the maturity of a former drug dealer turned rappebusinesscomma man. Fanboying aside, Jay has taken up the role hip-hop’s dad. One that lectures you about what’s right from wrong at the end of a sitcom. Shout out to Uncle Phil, Carl Winslow, Pops, and even Dre from black-ish.FuckPillCosby Jay also collaborates and give shout outs to rising rappers he deems fit for the mic. It was a bit of a rocky start with MCHG telling people to appreciate art, but it took a retrospective of Shawn Carter and several guest features to remind people that Hov’s still alive.
“I’m beginning to feel like I’m a Rap god” – Eminem, Rap God
Another legend in his third decade of rhyming. After the divisive Relapse in 2009, Eminem took on a different persona, or at least cut down on Slim Shady, until he wanted to promote a sequel. He has a “father of rap” role amongst the younger rappers of this generation, but it’s the dad whose jokes don’t always land well. For every Caterpillar verse or Chloraseptic Remix, there’s a Revival. He keeps doing those songs with [insert female pop vocalist] on the chorus that don’t land like they did on his first few albums, and yet, he’ll still give you a career just to destroy it in a rap beef. It’s like, we know he can spit, but he keeps releasing shit that proves otherwise. (I originally used a line from his 2011 BET Cypher, so go check that out )
“It's so different now, everything is so different now” – Logic, Till the End
It’s like, we know he can spit, but he keeps releasing shit that proves otherwise. He keeps doing those songs with [“I’m biracial!”] on the chorus, but it don’t land like his first few mixtapes, yet, he’ll looks up recent Logic lyric . . . yet he’ll “suck a dick just to prove it ain’t that way”. . . Huh? I honestly Logic gets caught under pressure and the hate on social media gets to him. Here’s another white rapper that people say is killing mumble rappers and “saving rap.” Look, Logic and Em got skill, and they’ve proven so. If anything, their fanbase can be too much. White people really love white rappers, eh?
“I'm underrated, don't fit on nobody's playlist, If I ain't in your top 10 then you're a racist” – Mac Miller, Here We Go
And all types of people really respect Mac Miller. From frat rap to philosophical lines to rapping about pussy to introspective lines about his drug habits, Mac gained a lot of respect from his peers. I know I said I can’t write a lot for everyone, but I’ll be unfair for Mac: he helped me better understand my own issues in life, namely any possible issues with my mental health and my thought process on certain destructive behaviors. He wasn’t my favorite rapper, but I loved listening to his shit. This lovable goof sadly passed away in September 2018, and it was arguably the hardest a celebrity’s death hit me. Partly because he was around my age, partly because he influenced my train of thought, as corny as some internet thugs believe that sounds. Thus, I did NOT pick one of the many lines that talk about him overdosing or dying before he turns 27. He will be sorely missed, by family, friends, and peers. Mac Miller is another example of a beautiful character arc, as much as the road was rocky and the end sucked. I really do hope people don’t just see him as an ex-boyfriend of Ariana Grande. . . R.I.P Mac Miller. Don’t do drugs, kids.
“Fuck it, mask off” – Future, Mask Off
Don’t do drugs. Future’s influence on rap is something I probably cannot truly describe. From his cadence, to his subject matter, to his drug habits. He’s seen as a figurehead for toxic masculinity as well as someone hiding his some sad lines behind rattling hi-hats and neat beats. From autotuning his voice in the early years to collabing with Drake to give us a great time to be alive, to getting credited for being on Father Stretch My Hand pt 2, Future proved himself a staple in 2010s rap. It was hard to NOT hear him this past decade. . . Wait, that wasn’t Future on FSMH? He- . . .who? Desiigner? What?
“This ain’t a fucking sing-a-long” – The Weeknd, Crew Love
The Weeknd gave his song to Drake for Take Care, but everyone fucking knows this is a Weeknd song ft. Drake. The Trilogy was some of his best work, and there some type of beauty in his tracks. It’s an R&B dude, but his lyrics aren’t soft. He’s talking about railing chicks and cocaine and shit. None of that between-the-sheets beauty. He’s fucking women on that island they got in their kitchens. And yet, he managed to break into the MAIN-mainsteam, getting kid awards for his drug songs. When will they learn, this ain’t a fucking sing-a-long.
“We don’t do the same drugs no more.” – Chance the Rapper, Same Drugs
Originally, I picked the opening bars form Pusha Man off Acid Rap. It’s one of my favorite projects from the 2010s (Can you tell I post on hiphopheads? Wanna watch this video essay on Tyler, the Creator and then bump some Griselda?) but, I think Same Durgs is a great metaphor. Chance talks about living a different life than an old friend, but it applies to some of his listeners. Many of us loved 10 Days and Acid Rap. But Chance can’t be that forever. He grew up from the kid who got suspended for 2 weeks. For as much as I don’t like The Big Day, he sounds happier. Plus, I’m not forced to listen to him.
“Mitch caught a body about a week ago” – Bobby Shurmda, Hot N---a
So, Bobby wasn’t the first, nor the last, but he’s a great example of this distinct trend in rap. Guy puts out song and blows up for it. I’m talking this shit goes viral. Music video is him and the homies. He’s talking about girls, women, cars, clothes, . . . oh yeah, and his crimes. Cops pull up, and they lock him up. Exhibit A. Exhibit B. Exhibit C is just going to be a song and not lead to an album. Bobby took a plea deal and after gracing us with the Shmoney Dance, was held up in Riker’s for the rest of the 2010s. This line, and others, were used against him and his team. Fun fact: this was one of the things I remember before it got big. A few friends of friends were sharing the music video via FaceBook, and I never guessed it would’ve blown up more than the other rising rappers I watched. Also, shout out to Bobby for dancing better than the women in his Bobby Bitch Music video.
“These bitches love Sosa.” – Chief Keef, Love Sosa
This one I was late on. I didn’t hear Chief Keef until Mr. West put out the remix to Don’t Like. But you can bet your ass I heard his influence on rap this decade. Drill music was what all the kids wanted to hear. And I’ll admit, my best friend and I loved seeing kids our age making music. Joey dropped 1999, Chief Keef was half naked and toting guns, it was crazy seeing people who not only looked like me blowing up, but who were around my age. Keef’s attitude would help push rap into a sound for the mid 10s and is still being heard today.
“Who put this shit together? I'm the glue” – Travis Scott, Sicko Mode
La Flame provided a good spark for music this decade. I’d argue he has his own lane in rap, mostly centered around his sound, but the sound is gonna get tired one day. . . and that day ain’t tomorrow, that’s for sure. With three solid projects, including the long awaited Astroworld, Travis has achieved what many dreamed of: Being on pre-game playlists for both white AND black people.
“Twenty-plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson/I started out as a baby-faced monsteNo wonder there's diaper rash on my conscience/My teething ring was numbed by the nonsense” – Pusha T, Nosetalgia
The past decade has given Push a chance to showcase that he is more than a duo-rapper. Good mixtapes, great albums, and a few nice slaps in the face of certain rappers. He raps about many topics, despite the memes about him only rapping about coke (although he still raps about it). Thank God for all the great music. Everything is Pusha T.
“Influenced by Houston, hear it in my music/A trill n---a to the truest, show you how to do this” – ASAP Rocky, Palace
He bes that pretty motherfucker, repping Harlem while experimenting with different sounds in his raps. Making strong strides at all points of the 2010s, Rocky proved his staying power in hip hop and in fashion. Although he got a cocky attitude, he isn’t afraid to shed light on what hurts him. Keep making music, Rocky, and I pray you find peace with all those around him who passed away.
“I ain’t sorry” – Beyonce, Sorry AND “Okay, ladies, now let's get in formation, cuz I slay” – Beyonce, Formation
Who wants that perfect love story anyway? Sucks when you eat some of your words as Queen B, BUT, Beyonce is more than a cheated-on wife of a rapper. She’s her own person, her own icon, and despite the terrorizing fanbase, she’s a role model to many fans and other artists. This decade saw a rise in people fighting back against bigotry, and while she’s no Harriet Tubman, Beyonce carries herself with some respect, enough to be a dominant figure in black culture and sisterhood. Mad about the double feature? Oh well. Queen B can’t trip up
“Much cooler than the cool kids. Can you believe every night we do this?” – Swae Lee of Rae Sremmurd, Powerglide
The pre-games have never been the same. Two young brothers hit the scene mid 2010s and boy, has America loved ~Swae Lee~ these two. Perhaps not Black Beatles, but much more than “new age Kris Kross.” I must say though, bad bitches ARE a type.
“Name a n---a that want some, I’ll out-rap his ass, out-trap his ass” – 2 Chainz, No Lie
From Tity Boi to 2 Chainz, this dude managed to redebuted himself under a more advertisement friendly name (take notes, Mr. eXquire). And now, he don’t need Wayne pouring out his soul on a chorus to be remembered. I will say, revisit all his features from the past decade. I wanted to use one of them as a quote.
“Came out of jail and went straight to the top” – Gucci Mane, I Get The Bag
Gucci’s home and it’s over for your Gucci clones. As you can tell, loads of people on this list influenced the rap playground this past decade, with Gucci doing the same. East Atlanta Santa spent years in jail (hasn’t stopped him for rapping) and came out a new man, or at least, a man running up the charts. He definitely running now that his lean belly is gone.
“Real n---a's dreams coming to fruition. Stumble but I never fall, leaning on my pistol” – Rick Ross, 3 Kings
Fat jokes from the early 10s aside, Ross really played a good role in rap music. BMF was big, I remember Diddy comparing him to Biggie ( yep ) and he always came through with good tracks. . . but then he rapped about drugging women. And on a lesser note, “Reeboks, I just do it,” is a weird fuck up, man.
I got a lot but want a lot more, yeah, we in the building, but I'm tryna take it to the top floor” – Big Sean, IDWFU
A strong player in terms of popularity, Detroit’s biggest ass-man was able to give us quotables and showed some softer edges on tracks about family or being single.
“One's for the money, two for the bitches, three to get ready cuz I feel I finally did it” – ScHoolboy Q, Blessed
TDE is more tHan Kendrick. In fact, tHere’s many well versed rappers in the crew, and ScHoolboy Q managed to pusH Himself more into the spotligHt. Now, He needs drop a collab witH Rocky, because Hands of the WHeel is STILL my most played track.
“Always be a real n---a, I never learned how to be nothin' but a real n---a” – The Game, 100
Can you believe Born 2 Rap is his last album? After all these years, and here it is: The Game’s last project. And still, people say he name drops too much, but at least he’s in on the joke.
“Free the Carter, n---as need the Carter” – Lil Wayne, No Problems
This is cheating, as this is a guest verse and NOT a Wayne song, but it is important. After bad business tactics and after putting an end to stuntin like his daddy, it took Wayne years to finally have Tha Carter V get released. Goes to show that sometimes, it’s really the ones close to you that fuck you over. Top ten hip hop betrayals of all time. . .
“I ain't never need a man to take care of me” – Nicki Minaj, Truffle Butter
Hot take: Nicki gets a lot of underserved hate, or at least, misdirected hate. She definitely deserves bad looks for some of her antics, or her support (lack of calling-out) of sexual deviant, but at the end of the day, she truly made some great songs. There’s a ton of pop shit, but let’s not undersell her role in the game. Also. . . obviously. . . That fucking verse on Kanye’s Monster. I made the argument in a Daily Discussion thread before but. . . HOT TAKE: Nicki’s verse on Monster is a top 5 verse of all time in rap, fuck you. While Wayne helped take her to the top, for her to stay relevant and to still sell records for the whole decade on her own is a great feat.
“Ball so hard motherfuckers wanna fine me” – The Throne, N---as in Paris
Yep, Jay and Kanye get a second line here. Watch the Throne is debated about being a classic or not. My take: Whether you like it or not, this album is iconic for its influence, or at least, how many people referenced watching the throne all these years after. Collab albums are not new. Collab albums with Jay Z are not new. Some are loved), some want to be forgotten) but, it’s not everyday when Kanye can team up with his big brother. Well, at least it’s not happening these days. But for the moment, it was dope watching the throne get in their zone.
“Do it for the culture, They gon’ bite like vultures” – Quavo of Migos, T-Shirt
Expecting a list of adlibs, right? Rap’s favorite triplet done flowed their way to the top. Constantly in people’s playlist, it took one rain drop, drop top, and the boys hit #1 on the charts, plus they’re hit day time television. Argue who’s the best, since it feels like the general consensus shifts around too much. It was Quavo when he was doing hooks and features, Offset when they hit #1, and now Takeoff for laying in the cut and always coming through.
“You say no to ratchet pussy, Juicy J can’t” – Juicy J, Bandz A Make Her Dance
Someone whose influence I think was overlooked a bit in the 10s. Three 6 Mafia’s legacy was proven this decade through samples, interpolates, and features. However, Juicy J shone in a lot of places, such as here, spitting one of my most quoted lyrics of the past few years.
“Me to rap is like water to raves” – Danny Brown, XXX
You know how people go out, party, drink, and turn their noses to water when water is gonna be the thing helping their asses? Yeah, that’s Danny. People hear the voice and instantly turn it off, but we need some straying from the norm. Also, his music ain’t that out there. It’s not like Death Grips. Plus, ignoring Danny means you’ll miss out on the best verse on 1Train. Yeah, I said it.
“ “Man, why does every black actor gotta rap some?” I don't know, all I know is I'm the best one” – Childish Gambino, Bonfire
He grew up past the mixtape era of strong puns and punchlines. He also survived a hard rating on some of his early works. Because the Internet was dope and good lord Awaken My Love was beautiful. A talented man who can seemingly do it all. To be a bit controversial, I see him as this generation’s Jamie Foxx. Sue me.
“Push me to the edge, all my friends are dead” – Lil Uzi Vert, XO TOUR Llif3
A figure in emo rap for all teens to look up to, Uzi was one of the artists to help push the genre in the last half of the decade, to the point where old heads got all sensitive about mumble rap. Who knew rapping about depression, sex, and suicide would top the charts?
“ Hopped up in my car Swag! then I drop my roof Swag! Wet like wonton soup. That's just how I do Swag!” – Lil B, Wonton Soup
Yep. Closing this out with Lil B. The exit is over here This decade, the internet went mainstream. As in, no longer was it something to do when you’re bored with TV or the PS3/Xbox/Wii. This decade, every day we’re using the internet, with several different social media accounts, blogs, news, etc. Videos of incidents are seen in an instant. At the very beginning of the 2010s, a young Brandon was blowing up on everyone’s radar. He was on WorldStar cooking, he was putting curses on KD (which actually worked), he’s been beefing with rappers and athletes, he’s been pissing of Myke C-Town, he’s been posting on Reddit, he was feature on Lil Wayne mixtapes, he’s been dropping his own mixtapes like a maniac, hopping on songs with Mac & Gucci & 40, he’s been creating memes before your mom knew what a meme was, etc. Him and Budden did what would become the norm before the norm became what it is now. Crazy to think. But yes, Lil B is getting recognition for his work. Based God truly came out and showcased what meme culture would bec- What now? . . . whoa, whoa whoa. . . Jay Electronica dropping his album?! Woah Well, that’s the list. Tell me who I missed. Ask me why there’s no Post Malone. Post better lines than the ones mentioned here. Honorable Mentions:
Kendrick’s Control Verse
The real hot take here: Kendrick’s verse on Big Sean’s Control only an honorable mention? He called out his contemporaries and made it clear: He’s gunning for number one. It’s a good verse and it’s even better that he called people out by name, but most of the list are people he’s cool with.
“My parents’ were making the best when they were naked in bed” – Joey Badass,
I really want Joey to be better remembered. I really wanted to include him in the main list. He’s actually in my top 5 of the decade.
“As a kid all I wanted was to kill a man” – Vince Staples, Nate “Don’t ever say that my music sounds like Ghost’s shit” – Action Bronson, Ron Simmons
“I was good on my own, that’s the way it was” – Rihanna, Needed Me
Looking at her resume, Rihanna has a strong career for 2010 alone. Dance songs, pop songs, a dancehall(ish) track, rappers as features, features as rappers. Call her a bad bitch, a savage, just remember the game needs her. At least, her fans are begging four another album after the four year drought, so we need her to drop one more time
“Live fast, die young, Bad girls do it well,” – MIA, Bad Girls
“Is it homophobic to only hook up with straight n---as? You know like closet n---as, masc-type? Why don't you take that mask off? That's the thought I had last night” – Kevin Abstract of BrockHampton, Junky “Don’t” – Bryson Tiller, Don’t “Fuck your publication that say I'm a third wheel” – Flatbush Zombies, Palm Trees “Might move away one day but I'm always gonna belong to the streets” – Freddie Gibbs, Thuggin “By the beer, by ear, by boo what Yari saying?” – Isaiah Rashad, 4r Da Squaw “Such a lost boy, caught up in the darkest I had. What's the cost, boy? Losing everything that I had” – Kid Cudi, 4th Dimension
The original sad boi, the original “emo rap”. Shout out to his comparison of himself to an orgasm.
“K to the I to the N to the G/Claim you the hottest, but I disagree” – Denzel Curry, Ultimate
Denzel is better than the memes from this track.
“I don’t dance now, I make money moves” – Cardi B, Bodak Yellow
Cardi made big moves in the second half of the decade, arguably enough to be above HMs. She’s more than the one hit wonder many detracts tried to pin her as. If she started a year earlier, she’d be up there. I really want her to strive in the 2020s as well.
“Better recognize when I see you” – PARTYNEXTDOOR, Recognize
“Kinda silly though, but I'm lyrical, Bet I put him in the dirt with the penny loafs” – A$AP Ferg, Work Remix “I bet I make you respect me, when you see the man dem are selling out Wembley” – Skepta, Shutdown “Me, I try to leave the best for later, But Pusha tried to put me on the respirator” – Pharrell, “They don't make 'em bar none, they don't make 'em real, they don't make it where I'm from, they don't take it here” – Nipsey Hussle, Victory Lap
R.I.P. Nipsey EDIT: I dun fucked up, and totally forgot Young Thug, who played a big part in the decade more than half this damn list. Please, share your favorite Thugger lines, I personally like his feature on Sacrifices the most but that’s not his own track. Also, the obvious fuck up: Fuck Donald Trump.
I posted this for another thread but it ended up becoming a long post. I have no other idea where to share my stories and memories, so I figured maybe you guys will enjoy them. I am now 24, and I graduated HS in 2014. I'd like to just, in a tacky way, tell you guys to loosen up a bit and have fun. High school is a crazy time, and I know shit is hard and can be hard when you're so young and in the early stages of finding yourself. Trust me, even at 24, I can tell you the process is still going for me. I bet one day you'll look back and reminisce fondly of this time in your life, though. Even though I went through some hell in HS with depression and self-harm, I still look back fondly. Anyways, heregoes. Anyone older want to chime in with their stories, I'd love that. I know this sub extends past teens and especially teens in this day and time are super accepting and open people.
So in 10th grade (this was late 2011), I had chemistry in first hour. I live in Michigan, ofc, so it was cold on winter mornings. It would often be cold in the classroom, and the kids would bitch about it being cold as would the prof. I guess I should explain now that these classrooms were quite large and had octagonal lab tables off to the left side of the instruction area. There was an instruction area to the right, with seats for students at those black-topped sciencey tables, a white board and projector, and the teachers desk all at the front. And to the left, there were about 4-6 lab stations spaced out on the other half of the room. The lab tables had a sink and two gas spigots that would dispense natural gas for use with a Bunsen burner. So, in order to heat up the classroom, my teacher would go to these spigots, turn the gas nozzle on, and then light the stream of gas on fire with one of those flint-strikers that produced a small spark. He'd do one or two of these. The result was a stream fire shooting out from the lab tables, which would, admittedly, warm the class room. I'll never forget the image of flames just shooting out about 18-24 inches out of these spigots. The flames would shoot out in a narrow stream before opening up like a flower and curling upwards with the flame endlessly licking at the air. I'll admit that I'm not smart enough to know if there's truly a hazard involved here, but the image of the flames shooting out as my teacher casually went on talking about chemistry is just so comical and unbelievable that it really feels like a memory of a movie or tv show. I remember one time where he actually let a kid stick a Mountain Dew can on the spigot with the opened end up, so the gas would flow up and out the can. Lmao. When we had free work time he would put on the radio and his favorites were classic rock and for some reason, Coldplay. So we'd be doing our homework with Coldplay blasting at 8am and fire shooting out of our lab tables.
There used to be this kid in my high school. Dude was one of the most epic trolls of all time. It's not fucked up per se, but I have some memories of him. I remember one day, walking back to class after lunch, where has strutting the halls in his boxebriefs like there was nothing strange about it. He was talking to people and otherwise acting like the popular-troll he was. I remember another day, walking back to class, where he was chucking grapes down the hall and plastering people in the crowd. Probably the most fucked up memory I have of him one day when I was in the lunchroom area restroom. There was a kid with Down's syndrome (most everyone was really cool to him, which is wholesome) who would always pee at the urinal with his pants and his ankles. Slightly off-putting, I suppose, but everyone generally understood that he didn't know much better and a view of some cheeks never really hurt anyone. I'll never fucking forget the day that the troll-kid in question walked into that restroom. The special kid was taking a leak as he always did, pants and his ankles, and troll kid walks in and sees this. Obviously it was instant cacophony of stifled laughs as the asshole made attention of the situation. Other guys fed off of it, they couldn't help themselves, being high-schoolers in 2012. Troll kid approaches the urinal immediately next to the special kid, unbuckles, and pulls his pants to his ankles. Looks over at the special kid and starts having a conversation with him. I feel so bad for finding it kind of funny, bc this was subtle bullying, but no one really got hurt. It's just this image of a grown, hairy ass man cheeks out pissing in a urinal next to a special kid who was doing the same.
As for most fucked up, well, there was once a English teacher at my HS who obviously had a fondness for HS age girls. He would always be talking to them and would straight up leave class to walk his favorite girls to lunch. He'd play this off by giving us busy work and acting like he needed to piss or go make photocopies, but we had other ideas of what he was doing. My friends and I, being nerds who kept on the edge of all groups, loved to observe groups of people and make constant jokes and stories about them and their private lives. Well, we had a long running joke about this English teacher being a predator. Couple years after I graduated I had learned that he indeed was fired and (charged?) with sexual harassment. We were dead on the nose, just by watching this fucker and noticing how peculiar he was with these girls. The way he would stop (seemingly) prudent class time to entertain these random girls always piqued our interest and was the subject of jokes and over-drawn comedy stories among my friends and I. We were the group that was a little weird but always uproariously laughing. It was always a little funny/spooky to me, because I don't think anyone else really suspected him or thought much deeper about it than him simply being friendly. Little did we know.
I once saw a fight in high school where my principal was punched and tackled by a student. Student walked out in cuffs. It was at lunch and people were standing on tables to get a view. The whole place was roaring. I believe we made it both on worldstar and on the news.
I was (loosely) friends, more like acquaintances, with a kid who was aggressively bullied. He had a bald patch from nervously pulling and eating his own hair. I remember a day in junior year where he finally snapped and they found a hit list on him. Everyone freaked and about 80% of school didn't show the next day. I'll never forget, my AP Econ teacher was an older, gay, white Ann-Arborite, and the 8 of us who came to class spent the period watching key and peele and south park.
Kid I went to class with self-immolated. Not good stuff. Was after graduation, but damn.
I'll never forget sitting at the counselors office, once, and staring blankly out the window. I was waiting for my counselor. The window provided a view of a main hallway, towards the center of the school. This was towards the end of the day, I think I was there for my class scheduling. Anyways, there was a staff restroom across the hall. It was kind of secluded and in an area that would be empty during class hours. I sat there, and I as I sat there, I watched a teacher go in there. Teacher #1 was a goofy dude who wore the same black outfit everyday. He said that his closet was nothing but the same black shirts and black pants. He was a huge troll and a little belligerent with students, but good hearted. I remember him killing a mouse on our first day back to school in my junior year. The mouse ran behind a trash can and he kicked the shit out the trash can. After the mouse failed to emerge from behind the can, he moved it aside to reveal a clearly deceased mouse. he threw his arms up and shouted something along the lines of "I am the mouse slayer!" in delight and trollish brashness. I also remember him once equating a girl's physical appearance to the Balrog. Teacher #2 was also a little belligerent and a troll, but he was more serious and less goofy than teacher #1. Again, good-hearted, but his mentality was more of a "I will cram learning down your unwilling throats b/c it's for your own good and I am the chosen one destined to teach you" type of good-hearted. They were both English teachers. I had class with both so I knew them both and their personalities. I also knew that they would have known one another fairly well. Teacher #1 had been in this bathroom for a minute or so, when I see teacher #2 approaching. He headed for the bathroom and opened the door which was, for whatever reason, not locked. I'll never forget the look on teacher #2's face as he backed out of that restroom. I recall he looked dead inside and gave out one of those cheek puffing sighs through pursed lips. I imagine he just walked into a face full of hairy man dick and thighs (teacher #1 was a hairy and burly dude), as it was one of those single-room restrooms intended for a single occupant. I love to imagine their next interaction. Did they mention it? Laugh it off? Idk. They were both kind of trolls and hard asses so the fact that this happened to them still entertains me mightily.
I had a class once in 11th grade. We had a star running back (dude was like 6 ft and 250 and could easily curl 100lb's in a single hand). The teacher of the class (some blow off elective) was the varsity football coach. One day, coach leaves to make some copies. There was this skinny black kid who was kind of a goof and a troll and he kept trolling star running back with some sound chip on his phone. They kind of played a game of cat and mouse until star running back finally got ticked and decided to loudly and obnoxiously push several desks out of his way as he tried to wrench the phone from skinny black kid. Running back wasn't having success so he literally lifted skinny black kid out his desk, raised him in the air and behind his head, and started tricep pressing skinny black kid's entire body weight. Running back loses his grip and skinny kid goes face first into the shitty old fake tiling. He laid there, motionless, for a second before getting up abruptly and going "I'm alive!". It was so surreal and fucking hysterical to watch.
My SO and I have been together since high school, about 7 years, and she always had to stay after school to wait for a ride. She lived in split homes because her parents separated, and whenever she was staying at her dad's house, she had to wait for him to pick her up at 5pm. We were horny mf's so we would wander the school looking for secluded places to do horny teenager things. I remember so many times sneaking around the corridors after class, and getting caught by the school's private security company. They knew us and disliked us but could never put a stop to our antics. (:<
I had a physics class in 11th grade, and the teacher was an old PhD who, evidently, had forgone opportunities to to teach at several universities, simply because he loved to bring science to younger people. Anyways, there was a notorious clown/troll who had the class with me. He was probably 17 (damn near a grown man) and one day, he was acting out so much and trolling so hard that the teacher actually *moved* his seat to the very front of the classroom, immediately in front of the teacher. Any time the prof would turn around to write on the chalk-board, the troll would get up out of his seat and stand behind the prof. He would poke out his lips and slowly air-thrust behind him with both hands gripping his asscheeks. Anytime the prof would go to turn and face the class, he would quickly sit down and grab his pencil and notebook. This must have gone on dfor several minutes until, IIRC, he got caught and was finally sent out of the room. It was criminally funny to my 17 year old self. Oh god was it fucking *funny*. I had a buddy back then who had an extremely obnoxious laugh when he was *really* laughing, and I remember looking over to him and seeing his face buried into his pea-coat, clearly dying of laughter and trying his hardest to suppress that laugh. I hate to say it but this prof retired after our year and I'm about 90% sure my graduating year pushed him over the edge.
In 9th grade I had a bio teacher who was probably late 60s or 70, he was a grizzled military vet with a jaded but live sense of humor and he was a major troll to students, always fucking with them. Anyways, he was slightly eccentric and was known for having a collection of slightly dubious objects in his classroom closet. Evidently, he once had an aborted fetus in a jar (I remember the back story being funny but I don't remember much of it), but he said that it was no longer socially acceptable to display this to the class. What he did have, however, was a collection of real human bones. One day when we were learning about the skeletal system, he took out these bones and passed them around the class room. Somehow, once everyone had observed them, they ended up on the desk of my buddy and I. he never collected them and put them away, so I had class with the remains of some random person sitting on my desk all period. One girl was mortified at the idea of human bones, so the teacher opened up his desk, pulled out a bit of eraser, and chucked it at the girl and said "oh here! have a finger!" The piece of eraser bopped her, and she screamed. I also remember him once producing a hammer from his desk and brandishing it as a tool for discipline, in case anyone needed it. My buddy and I used to goof off in his class and were always BSing and laughing during lecture and work time. He sent us to the hallway (fucking grown kids getting sent to the hallway, lmao) multiple times. Eventually he got so tired of us that, if we set him off, he would just throw up his thumb towards the hallway and exclaim "hallway!" without even looking up from his notes. I remember once, where he admitted to us that even though we were a distraction in class, he envied the fact that we were always cracking up and having a good time. I remember he was reclining on his hand a sort of reminiscent smirk crossed his face, as if he was remembering something. Given what a troll he could be, I wouldn't be surprised if we reminded him of himself.
God whenever I tap into my HS memories I have such a wealth of funny memories (and painful ones). What a time in our lives, I swear. We never realize how good we had it back then.
New Jersey Pine Barrens. 16:00 Eddie loved road trips, especially on quiet roads like these. As tall pines flew by on either side of the station wagon and Black Sabbath crackled through the car speakers, his mind drifted to memories from the drive from Los Angeles to Coast City he and his Aunt Marla used to take every year. Eddie’s heart skipped for a second - he wondered what Marla was doing now. Probably producing some new blockbuster, hopefully not worrying about him too much. Maybe once all of this was over he’d be able to visit. “Eddie, are you alright?” Jennie put her hand on his shoulder. Eddie broke from his train of thought, “Oh, yeah, totally. Just zoned out for a second. Hey, how far are we from that lady with the ghost in her library?” Alice, the enigmatic sharpshooter with black pistols grumbled from the passenger seat. “Better be close. The faster we leave Jersey, the better.” Eddie noticed Traci repeating something under her breath and moving her hands in precise gestures. He was more interested in Alice’s opinion. She was still a mystery and finding out anything about her felt like another clue to cracking it. “What’s wrong with New Jersey?” “It's-” Alice was cut off by a sudden flash of purple light from the backseat. Grant gripped the wheel, “Christ!” The station wagon swerved to the left before stabilizing. He turned to the backseat with a scowl, “You could’ve killed us!” Traci sunk into her seat, mumbling out an apology. “No magic in the goddamn-” thunk The car bounced, throwing everyone upwards. Eddie groaned as his head bumped against the roof, his horns punching two circular holes. With lightning reflexes, Grant cut the wheel and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Before the car could finish its spin, Alice had already drawn her pistols, Traci had a defensive ward up, and Jennie’s fists pulsed with green light. The car came to a stop a few feet in front of a bloody pile of meat and fur. Grant furrowed his brow, “Looks like a raccoon.” Eddie stared at the two holes in the car’s cabin, “A raccoon did that?” Traci stuck her head out the window, “Wait. I think - I think it’s moving.” Alice sighed and popped open her door, walking towards the animal, “I’ll take care of it.” “Take care of it?” Jennie didn’t waste any time rushing out of the station wagon and after Alice. “It’s in pain.” Alice replied, not hesitating in her stride towards the red puddle on the asphalt. “So we help it! Take it to an animal hospital, or something.” Alice spun around, “We rolled over it with two tons of steel. We hunt the kind of doctors that could help that thing.” Eddie stepped out of the car with Traci. He wondered if the raccoon could actually be helped. A quick glance at its mangled bones, squashed eyes, and talons - raccoons have talons, right? - told him the answer was probably no. Jennie was silent for a second, “Just do it quickly.” Alice nodded and raised a foot, ready to crush the raccoon. Eddie’s bright orange eyes went wide, “Stop!” He’d seen Old Yeller. “You can’t just step on it! You’ve got to shoot it, so it doesn’t feel pain.” “Is this the fucking Red Cross?” Alice drew one of her pistols from its holster and pointed it at the raccoon. “Even if the guns could shoot-” BANG The raccoon went limp. A look of shock suddenly hit Alice’s in a way that unnerved Eddie. She slid her gun back into the holster and whispered, “What the fuck?” Everyone looked to Alice, waiting for an explanation. “The guns only work on things that deserve to be dead. I - It’s difficult to explain, but this thing is far viler than an ordinary raccoon. It’s something...malevolent.” Eddie coughed, “Like, a really evil raccoon?” “If it’s not a raccoon…” Traci walked towards the corpse, “I might have a spell for this. ” Alice stepped aside, allowing Traci to place her palm on the bloody asphalt and chant, “Nochdadh dhomh tùs a ’chreutair seo.” As she spoke, darkness crept through the blood until the deep red pigments was replaced with black. Traci’s eyes suddenly flashed open, “It’s a psychopomp...but-” Jennie leaned in closer to the corpse, “What is that?” “From what I read online, they’re spirits. They’re meant to guide souls after they pass. Usually, they look like animals. But Alice, your gun shouldn’t have worked on it.” Alice raised an eyebrow, “The guns can kill anything.” “That’s what I mean. Psychopomps aren’t alive. You can’t kill what’s already dead.” “If anything could, it’d be the guns.” Eddie’s face scrunched up, “So if the guns only work on evil and these Sicko-pumps help dead people, how does that make sense?” Grant rolled down the driver window, “Stop wasting time on a dead raccoon.” The screeching of hundreds of birds kept anyone from responding. The treeline rattled with the sound of trampled brush. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, the treeline exploded with a stampede of alien woodland creatures. Rabbits with pulsing red eyes and horns, squirrels coated in yellow scales. Eddie could only stare at the riot of color and chaos before something glinted in the corner of his eye. A massive stag - easily the size of the car, and with glittering gemstone antlers - charged towards him. Without thinking, Eddie dug his heels into the ground, relying on muscle memory to position himself. The stag rammed into him like a semi, but Eddie held his ground, gripping the beast by its enormous antlers. As Eddie struggled to hold the weight, his veins pulsed with bright orange blood. He took a breath and lurched forward, tightening his grip on the antlers. With a massive heave, Eddie yanked the stag to the ground, snapping off one of the gemstone antlers in the process. The stag writhed on the ground and Eddie turned his head, Grant had already taken aim at the beast with a pistol and unloaded a quick staccato of eight bullets into its head. The stag relaxed, but it still twitched unpredictably every few seconds. Grant gave the hint of a smile and pat Eddie on the back, “That’s why we train.” With a quick glance to his right, Eddie saw the girls were dealing with their own problems. They were in the center of the stampede with the animals flowing around them or facing the combined blasts of light and magic. Still, they struggled to keep up with the barrage of magical creatures slowly overwhelming them. Eddie knew he needed to act. He rushed forward and spewed hellfire from his lungs into the side of the stampede, diverting the creatures to the left or fusing them to the asphalt. The animals surged past the group and into the forest. After a few seconds, things were as silent as the had ever been. Without warning, Alice fired on each of the disabled, struggling animals with extreme prejudice, putting an end to them. She huffed, “I hate New Jersey.” Jennie turned to Traci, “What was that?!” “I- They were psychopomps, but - they’re not supposed to travel in groups. There’s usually just one or two.” Grant tucked his pistol into his belt, “They’re headed North. You said they bring souls to the afterlife?” “Yeah.” “Eddie, get the map from the glove compartment. Traci, get ready to run that tracking spell. I want to know who they’re coming to collect on.” Eddie nodded and ran to the car, pulling open the passenger side door and digging around in the glove compartment until he saw a map labeled ‘Haunted America: Astounding Sights from Coast to Coast.’ Eddie wasted no time handing it over to Traci, who placed it on the ground and printed her still-bloody hand onto its surface. Just like on the plane, small points on the map began to sizzle and burn away until one spot held prominence. Alice kicked a rock, “Damnit.” ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Trenton, New Jersey. 17:00 “Come one, come all to Winters Carnival. Don’t let the name fool you. We offer excitement for the family all year round!” A man walking on stilts in rainbow-striped pants called out to the ground. A large sign lit with red bulbs hung above him which read, ‘Winters Travelling Carnival’. A large crowd of people surged through the sign’s arch into the carnival proper where the sound of laughter and smell of bacon grease emanated. Grant stood at the entrance with the rest of the group, trying to parse why a pack of spirit guides would be attracted to a place like this. He called up to the man on stilts. “Hey, I need to talk to whoever runs this place.” “And who are you, guy?” “I’m-” Traci quickly interjected, “We’re a new act looking to audition.” The stilt-man surveyed the group for a few seconds, his eyes lingering on Eddie’s red skin before he nodded, “Soon as you get through the arch, turn right. Mr. Winters’ office is in the blue trailer.” Traci nodded and immediately strode through the arch with the rest of the team. Grant raised an eyebrow prompting Traci to speak, “Seventeen years of lying to my dad, I better be good at it.” The team squeezed past a big top tent to a clearing with a blue trailer sitting off to the side. Engraved on a plate bolted to the door was the name ‘Jasper Winters’. Grant raised his fist up to the door and gave three quick knocks. From the other side of the door, a raspy voice spoke, “Come- cough come in!” Grant pushed open the door and headed inside. Immediately, his eyes scanned the room. Every nook and cranny was packed with some strange curios. An antique clock. A bright pink boa. A half-eaten jar of pickled eggs. A large dark wood desk sat in the center of the room. Jasper Winters himself was a tall man slouching from a finely made leather chair. A snow white cloak hung from around his neck and a small patch of greying hair decorated his chin. He grabbed a styrofoam cup of coffee from the desk and took a sip, “So how can I help you folks?” Grant leaned against a bare patch of wall, “We’re… exterminators. We were wondering if you’ve noticed anything strange recently. Odd-looking animals, in particular.” “Hmm… Well, we’ve got no shortage of animals eating out of our trash, but that comes with the deep fried oreos. Nothing comes to mind.’ Traci pushed her way past Grant, “And does the word ‘psychopomp’ mean anything to you?” Jasper pursed his lips for a moment, “No. Now was that all? I have work to do.” Grant considered pushing the issue, but figured giving the old man a hard time was more trouble than it was worth, “No, that’s everything. Thank you for your time.” Grant headed out of the trailer with the rest of the team. As soon as Jasper’s door clicked shut, he went to work on a plan. “So, something or someone here is drawing all of those creatures. I say we split up in teams, sweep the carnival, and figure out just what’s going on. Jennie, you’re with me.” Eddie’s face scrunched up, “C’mon, Grant, we’re at a friggin’ carnival. Let’s take some time to relax before we go all fists of fury on the place.” “We’ve got a job to do.” Traci reached into her purse, “Actually, Eddie might have a point.” She pulled a few lengths of string from her purse, “I was looking into it some more on the way here. If that many psychopomps are headed here, somebody is trying some seriously advanced, dangerous magic. If we start kicking down doors, whoever’s attracting the monsters is gonna catch wind.” Grant crossed his arms, “So what’s your solution.” “I can set each of you up with charms that alert you when you get close to whatever’s attracting the psychopomps. So, we walk around the carnival for a while and when one of the charms goes off... “ Alice nodded, “We deal with it.” Grant held the bridge of his nose, then sighed. He didn’t like the idea of wasting time at a carnival, but Traci had a point. “Alright. We’ll do it your way.” Eddie gave a fist pump as Traci went to work setting up the charms. She took a length of red string and tied it around Grant’s wrist, “When it goes loose, that means you’re close. Now try not to tug on it.” ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 17:30 Eddie held a look of pure awe on his face as his neck craned upwards to the bell atop a ‘Test-Your-Strength’ machine. A comically sized rubber mallet leaned against the machine, begging him to give it a swing. “I used to love these things as a kid!” Eddie quickly called backwards to Traci before snapping back to the machine. A large man in overalls clomped over to Eddie, sporting a finely maintained handlebar mustache, “Nice costume, kid. You lookin’ to give it a try? Five bucks a pop.” Eddie tilted his head, “Costu- Oh!” He suddenly remembered the horns. And the red skin. And the bleached white hair. And the amber eyes. And- The man took a step forward, towering over Eddie, “Well, you givin’ a try or not?” Eddie’s hand flew to his pocket, “Oh, totally!” He handed over a five. The man lifted up the mallet and passed it to Eddie before walking over to a large set of shelves filled with knick knacks, “Alright. Just for playing, you get a prize from the bottom row. You make it past the halfway, second row. If you manage to hit the bell, you get any prize you want. No do-overs on your swing.” Eddie nodded, his eyes narrowing with determination, “Wish me luck, Traci.” Traci gave a thumbs up and Eddie began to wind up for his swing. With one mighty blow, the mallet sent the machine’s ringer rocketing upwards. A single metallic DING! rung out. The man in overalls looked bewildered, “Wha-” Eddie dropped the mallet and turned his head over to Traci, “Hey Trace, what’s your favorite animal?” “Uhh. I like cats.” Eddie smiled, cleared his throat, and put on the most prim and proper British accent he could muster, “One cat beanie for the lady!” The man grumbled and shuffled over to the prize rack, grabbing a knitted hat depicting a cat’s face with small white ears poking out of the top and two long tassels hanging down either side. “Here.” Eddie took the hat from the man and tossed it over to Traci. She slid it on her head, “Thanks.” Eddie hardly took a moment to bask in his victory before mentioning, “I heard there’s this ride here called the Devastator that goes through so many loops that a guy died on it last year. You wanna give it a try?” ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Shooting Gallery, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey Grant wouldn’t stop scanning his surroundings. Traci’s magic was powerful, but he knew the value of a keen eye and focused mind. Eddie proved how easy it was to get distracted in a place like this, with bright lights. He was grateful to have someone else on the team just as focused, “Alice, have you noticed anything yet?” “Other than the deep fried diabetes? No.” Grant was about to reply when an old man’s voice cut through the crowd, “You two come here to stand around looking angry?” Grant turned to see a geriatric man hunched on a stool in a large carnival booth marked ‘Wild West Shootin’’. Wrinkles ran from the top of his balding head to the bottom of his flabby chin. Air rifles lined the countertop separating the crowds from the man. Maybe the team was right. Being on the move, fighting and training non-stop over the past few months was stressful. Grant did a double take at the booth. Alice was already sat at the counter holding one of the rifles in her hands. Grant hurried to catch up, placing a few dollars on the counter and taking aim with an air rifle. The old man grabbed hold of the countertop and lifted himself up, “I’m Abe. This is Wild West Shootin’. Rules are simple. Hit as many targets as you can in a minute.” Grant glanced at Alice. She was laser focused on the small moving targets against the back wall of the booth. Grant readjusted his grip, “Good luck.” Abe sat back down, “Go.” In an instant, a half dozen targets were down. A cacophony of pops filled the air, each one signalling another target down. Digital score counters ticked up on both sides at a breakneck pace. Grant was determined to win. As the countdown timer drew closer to zero, he doubled down, pulling ahead of Alice’s total. When the buzzer finally rang, Grant noted the final score as ‘Alice - 98. Grant - 112’ He stood up from the booth with a quiet smile on his face, “Maybe next time.” As Grant started to walk away, he decided to ask Abe, “You wouldn’t happen to know about any strange animals roaming around, would you? We’re exterminators.” Abe took a moment’s pause, then smiled a toothy grin, “Damn good shot for exterminators. Yeah, I’ve seen some crazy shit lately. Why’dya ask?” ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Funhouse Mirrors, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 18:00 Jennie wandered through a long hallway with one of its walls covered in mirrors. Not long after coming inside, she realized this wasn’t the most popular of attractions. The rooms were covered in splatters of rainbow paint from floor to ceiling. She considered turning around, checking somewhere else, but an empty carnival attraction seemed like the perfect place to hide whatever was attracting the psychopomps. Jennie headed further inside, only taking a moment’s pause as the mirrors distorted her figure. The mirrors bent, stretched, and squashed her figure, reflecting her green skin back in alien shapes. Something about the twisted images in the mirror unnerved her. Staring in mirrors had a way of making you question how people saw you. Jennie felt her breath draw short as she continued through the funhouse. She decided not to waste anymore time inside, instead hurrying toward the exit until- “Spirits! Hear me!” A man’s voice called out from around a corner. Jennie halted. She jolted as something brushed against her wrist. A quick glance showed Traci’s string lying on the ground. This was him. She took a breath and rounded the corner, “Don’t move!” Jennie wasn’t prepared for what she saw. An eagle was splayed on the floor, bearing a cloven hoof in place of each of its talons. A psychopomp, Jennie realized. Strange sigils were carved into the floor surrounding the creature. Jennie was brought back to reality by the sound of running. A man in a white cloak was fleeing through set of massive purple funhouse doors. Jennie started after him, trying to make out who it was. As she pushed her way through the heavy doors, a blast of pressurized air hit her in the face. The man’s raspy voice called from down the hall, “Leave me alone!” Jennie suddenly realized. White cloak. That voice. It was Jasper! Jennie nodded to herself and sprinted after him, but the funhouse’s constant tricks slowed her down. Just as she began to gain ground, the floor shook beneath her or an optical illusion threw her off balance. When Jennie finally made it out of the funhouse onto the carnival grounds, Jasper was gone, lost in the crowd. She frowned and took out her phone. She had to tell the team. ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Jasper’s Office, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 18:30 Grant’s fist pounded against the door of Jasper’s office. “Open the door! I’m not asking a second time.” Grant really didn’t like it when people lied to him. Hell, secrets were what put him on this path with Jennie and the others. Grant took a step back, ready to kick down the door while the rest of the team prepared to face whatever Jasper was doing to attract the psychopomps. Then, the door swung open. Standing in the threshold was Jasper Winters in his signature white cloak. A sour expression clung to his face, “I don’t know what in the hell you kids think you’re doing, but it needs to stop.” Jennie shouted from the back of the group, “I saw you with that creature in the funhouse. Whatever you’re doing, you’re not going to get away with it!” * Jasper gripped his hand tight into a fist and Grant braced for the blow, but it never came. Jasper released his fist, took a breath, then spoke slowly and deliberately, “I want all of you off my property now. I am calling the police.” Grant glared, “Touch that phone and-” The voice of an old man, Abe, interrupted him, “You can’t make ‘em leave, Jasper.” Jasper stopped, taking a moment to recalibrate before returning to his usual confidence. “And what makes you say that, Abe?” Abe spit in the dirt, “They’re an act. I hired them. They stay.” “You hired them? Why in the hell?” “That’s my job. I’m part owner, same as you boy. You call the po-lice, try and challenge that, we’ll see what happens.” Jasper fumed, “They’re not a goddamn act! They’re meddling children.” Abe was cool as a cucumber, “We’ve taken in younger.” “They’re an act? They don’t even have a name.” Grant looked back at Abe. Why is he doing this for us? Abe grunted, “They do. They’re called Night Force.” Jasper’s face suddenly went pale as a ghost. He stammered, “I-I- If they’re an act, then they’re performing tonight. I want them ready into two hours or they’re gone.” Abe smiled and Jasper slammed the door shut. Grant started to ask Abe why he intervened, but Abe just waved the team over. “Come with me.” The group walked in silence, contemplating what had just happened. After a few minutes, they reached a quiet spot sequestered away from the main fairgrounds. Once they arrived, Abe started to explain. “Years ago - when Jasper was a young man - he and some friends of his got wrapped up in something.” He paused, “Aw, I’m not gonna mince words. They hunted monsters. Just like I’m betting you all do now.” Grant raised his eyebrows. It was bizarre to imagine anyone, especially Jasper, doing what he did with the rest of the team. Grant still took the surprise better than Eddie, whose jaw was hanging open. Abe continued. “It was Jasper, a crack shot named Vanessa, Donovan Danger the boxer, Sarah - who was a poet - and my son, Jack. They traveled with the carnival and fought for years. It was Jack who picked the name. I always thought it was too dangerous, but once that boy put his mind to something…” Abe shook his head, “Well, Night Force was fighting something. I don’t know the details, but they were gone for months, and then… only Jasper came back. To this day, I don’t know what happened to them. To my boy. But Jasper was… too broken to not knowing something. At least more than he let on. He never told me what they were fighting.” Abe’s voice crackled, “He never told me how my boy died. Whatever he’s doing now, you need to stop him. Tonight after the carnival closes, do whatever you have to.” Alice took a step towards Abe, “If what Jasper has done is as terrible as you say, we can stop him right now.” Abe shook his head, “There are children here. I can’t risk anyone else getting hurt.” Traci shrugged, “Soooo what are we supposed to do on stage? We’re not The Ineffable Night Force. ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Big Top, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 21:00 “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to be amazed by...THE INEFFABLE NIGHT FORCE!” The crowd roared as the ringmaster - Jasper Winters - announced the next act through gritted teeth. Suddenly, the big top went dark. For just a few seconds, everything was black. Then, the darkness exploded into brilliant emerald light. Lights danced through the air, briefly revealing the faces of Night Force in the dark and a large hoop suspended above the ground. Jasper gestured from his platform to Jennie on the ground below, “Featuring the Viridian Lightshow: Jade!” The large floodlights hummed back to life, revealing Grant and Alice standing back-to-back. “Fastest guns East of the Mississippi...The Ravager and the Crimson Avenger!” Behind them, Traci held two playing cards in her hands - the Queen of Hearts and King of Spades. She muttered incantations. “Mistress of Magic, Traci Thirteen!” Grant and Alice took a few paces away from each other before turning. In that moment, the playing cards flew into the air above Grant and Alice, shrouded in a faint purple light. The sound of gunfire filled the big top and when the playing cards drifted the ground, there were six bullet holes in the cards. The crowd erupted into applause. At its peak, Jasper threw his arms open and exclaimed to the crowd, “And the Invincible Kid Devil!” A spotlight came down on Eddie, who ran through the audience with a smile. As he reached the stage, Eddie cried “Hello New Jersey!” to thunderous approval. He took a step towards the hoop fixed a few feet above the ground and ignited his breath. Fire streamed out of Eddie’s mouth, lighting the hoop aflame. A chorus of gasps came from the audience. Eddie turned from the hoop, bent his knees, then sent his body flying through the hoop with reckless bravery. When he emerged out the other side unscathed, Jasper continued,“We have a thrilling show for you tonight, so get re-” A chilling screech reverberated through the air. Eddie suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. The ground was shaking. Alice immediately threw her show revolver to the ground and drew the guns from their holsters. Eddie’s expression dropped, “What’s happening?!” A crack slowly cut across the ground in the center of the big top, pulling itself open and pulling chunks of rock into the new ravine. The crowd panicked, screaming and trampling each other to get away. Traci raised open palms toward the ravine and glowing runes etched themselves across her skin, “Psychopomps. So many of them.” Grant drew his tellurium sword and held it in front of himself, prepared for whatever crawled out of the ground. The dust kicked up by the tremor caused his helmet to slide shut. The sound of scraping rock told him the creatures were close. He shouted, “Night Force! Hold your ground!” Alice rolled her eyes, both pistols fixed on the ravine, “We’re not seriously calling ourselves that?” Grant didn’t have time to answer before psychopomps surged from the hole in the ground. A bear with blood red fur leapt towards Grant with incredible ferocity. He felt air hit his face as the claw narrowly missed him. As soon as Grant managed to steady himself, he buried the blade in the bear’s midsection. Somehow, the creature didn’t seem phased as black ichor flowed from the wound. Grant looked around at the other members of Night Force. Traci and Jennie were standing back to back, using their combined firepower to keep the horde of psychopomps from tearing into them. They were doing well, with Traci suspending the creatures in the air and Jennie blasting them back into the ravine. Grant remembered when Traci used that technique on him. The beads of sweat forming on Traci’s forehead told him she couldn’t keep it up long. Alice was doing better, with each shot sending a psychopomp limp to the ground. The creatures seemed to recognize the power of the guns, focusing dozens of demented woodland animals to take Alice down. Eddie was facing off against a puma with orange and black striped that seemed to pulse with light. If it was anything like the bear that put Grant on the defensive, Eddie had his work cut out for him. But with Eddie’s boundless confidence, Grant didn’t think he cared. Grant took his left hand from his sword and drew a pistol from his side. He quickly unloaded into the bear. It still managed to lurch forward, ignorant of its injuries. Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw the puma leap at Eddie. “Watch out!” But Eddie was ready for it. His fist slammed into the puma’s side with a left hook, flinging it into the hard rock of the ravine’s walls with a thunk! Eddie slowly turned his head towards his fist in astonishment. “Worldstar!” Grant breathed a sigh of relief, but he didn’t have time to rest. After a quick glance at the bear, he wracked his mind trying to think of a solution. Then-! “Eddie, Shishkebab!” Grant extended his sword arm to the bear. Eddie nodded and made his way to Grant before taking a deep breath. Fire cloaked the bear and sword alike. The heat hitting Grant’s hand was intense, but he managed to keep his grip through the pain with gritted teeth. The bear staggered backwards, but remained upright. Grant swung his sword through the air, now bright yellow with heat, and cleaved into the bear. It sliced clean in two and the creature toppled, soaking the ground in black ichor. Grant couldn’t celebrate. The tide of psychopomps wasn’t letting up. They were doing well, but Grant knew it was a losing battle. Then, an echoing voice broke through the chaos of battle. “Sigillum Dei Inferno!” It was Jasper, facing the ravine and gesturing wildly. The psychopomps halted their advance immediately and began sliding backwards as if they were being pulled by an unseen force. Any of the creatures that didn’t fall to Night Force tumbled into the ravine, unable to resist Jasper’s spell. As the final psychopomp plummeted into the depth, the Earth began to shake once more as the fissure in the ground sealed itself. As quickly as the attack had began it was over. An instant after that, Grant’s pistol was pointed between Jasper’s eyes. “Explain.” Jasper nodded with a broken look on his face. “I’m sure the old man told you about Night Force.” Traci growled, “And how you killed them!” “I didn’t-I wasn’t-” Jasper went silent, then took a deep breath, “I went on a mission by myself. They tried to talk me out of it, but I told them not to worry. On the mission, I was wounded - mortally. I didn’t want to die. A demon-lord named Neron came to me. He said he could save me if I made a deal with him. He would heal me, but if Night Force didn’t stop five hundred monsters in five years, he would get the souls of everyone on my team. Everyone but me.” Eddie’s voice trembled, “You…” “I thought we could do it. I knew we could do it. So, I accepted. When I made it back, I never told anyone about the deal. I was afraid. Part of me worried if I told them about the deal, Night Force would split up and my friends would be doomed. But more, I was ashamed. We came close to five hundred. Damn close. Another few hours and - Neron took their souls. Their expressions when they learned I betrayed them are burned into my mind.” Jennie lowered her gaze to the ground, “So the psychopomps-?” “I was trying to free my friends from Neron. To save them from damnation. The creatures seem to think I’m perverting the natural order.” Jasper buried his face in his palm, “They didn’t deserve this.” It was impossible for anyone to respond for a long time. Then, finally, Traci spoke with a tender voice, “This can’t go on. If Neron is powerful enough to do what you said, trying to free your friends now will only get people hurt.” Jasper nodded, wiping moisture from his eyes, “I know. I just-” Alice glared at Jasper. The guns trembled in her hands. “This stops now, or I end you.” “I understand.” Traci spoke something under her breath, then addressed the group, “I put a ward on this place. So long as Jasper doesn’t try his ritual again, the psychopomps shouldn’t attack again.” Grant put his pistol away, “I’m taking you at your word.” After solemn nod from Jasper, the group headed for the big top exit in silence. Before they stepped out, Jasper called to them, “Good luck...Night Force.” ⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣ Al’s Diner, Trenton, New Jersey. 23:00 The newly christened Night Force was packed into a booth at Al’s Diner. It wasn’t clear if the checkered floors, prefab style, and jukebox were meant to be retro, or if the place just hadn’t renovated since the 50s. Jennie raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? That sounds disgusting.” Traci shook her head, “It’s delicious. You have to try it.” Everyone staring at Jennie, waiting for her to make a decision. That is, except for Eddie, who had been poking at his fried egg for the past few minutes. Jennie finally reached a decision. “Alright, I’ll do it!” Jennie grabbed a fry from the center of the table, dunked it into her chocolate milkshake, then ate it whole. The tension that built in the air while the team waited was so thick, Grant might’ve been able to cut it with his sword. Then, Jennie smiled. “It’s not bad actually!” Traci and Grant erupted into cheers and even Alice smiled a little. Eddie was strangely silent, to the point Grant asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? We won!” Eddie let out a deep exhale, “There’s something I need to tell you.” Jennie stopped caring about the new flavor combination, “What’s wrong?” “I didn’t want to say anything, but after today, I think I should. My powers - I.” beat “I got them from Neron.” Alice slammed her hand against the table, “What?!” Jennie put a hand on Alice's shoulder, then turned back to Eddie, “What do you mean?” “I always wanted to be a hero. When I was just a kid, I saw Superman and The Flash saving the world and I wanted to be just like them. Pretty stupid, I guess. I was never anything special. After my mom and dad died and I went to live with Aunt Marla, I wanted to be a superhero more than ever. To y’know - save people just like The Justice League did. Well, I got my wish. Neron told me he’d give me powers so I could be just like Superman. All I had to do was become a hero in a year and I could keep my soul. With powers like Superman, I thought it’d be easy. I tried to help people. Then, HIVE found me, and well, you know the rest.” Grant lowered his head, “Eddie. When did you make this deal? “Four...yeah, four months ago now. I’m sorry for lying to you all. If you want me to leave, I understand - I just, after what happened at the carnival - I - I should go.” Eddie stood from the booth and started to leave until Traci grabbed his arm. “Eddie. Don’t.” Alice gripped her hand into a fist, “Fuck. Neron.” Jennie nodded along with her, “We’ll help you become a hero Eddie, no matter what. Right, Grant?” “Neron’s ruined enough lives...You know what seems heroic to me? Doing the world a favor and stopping him. Together.” Eddie turned to face the team with tears welling up in his eyes. As soon as one ran out from his eye, it sizzled away, “You guys…” Eddie tone flipped to pure, unadulterated joy. “Go Night Force!” Eddie wrapped his arms around Traci in a hug, who managed to squeak out a, “Go Night Force.” as Eddie squeezed most of the air out of her.
Never piss off a witch doctor with a sick sense of humor - Part 1
(apologies for any typos, typing this out on my phone as I sit in the stall, keep reading and you’ll see why) I really fucked up last night. I was in downtown Oxford for the annual Halloween pub crawl. It’s a huge block party where they fence off the downtown area and set up a couple of stages for live music with a bunch of food and beer trucks. On top of that everyone is dressed for Halloween, so it’s a huge ordeal in a podunk college town like this. It sounds lame, but I went with my twin sister, Kayla. We were both students here at Miami, and I had just broken up with my girlfriend a week ago. I had been in a funk, so she invited me to go as one of the Power Rangers with two of her guy friends. I was Blue, her friends Rob and Matt were Red and Green, and Kayla was Pink and getting the most attention, for obvious reasons. People were buying us (i.e. Kayla) drinks left and right, but rather than drink them she handed them off to her Ranger brother to pound. She’s good people. The crowd got into it and chanted, “Go, go Power Rangers!” with each beer handed to me. Needless to say, by 11pm I was hammered. I’ve been known to get a little rowdy when I drink. Beer muscles, as Kayla calls it. After my ninth or tenth beer I got into a shoving match with some guy in a Godzilla costume and threatened to “Zord out on his lizard ass,” according to Kayla’s Instagram story. Rather than wait for them to ask us to leave, we decided it was time to go. Outside of the fenced in block party we passed an old gypsy style wagon. It was purple and gold with a bunch of wind chimes and crystals hanging off the awning overhang. Kayla captured it on her phone while Matt and Rob led/carried me. I don’t know where he came from, but a white haired old man in baggy purple linen pants and a white poofy renaissance drawstring shirt popped up in front of Kayla’s phone as she recorded the wagon. “Sister!” He yelled as he popped up. “Would you like your fortune told from a genuine voodoo witch doctor? For only five dollars, I can tell your fortune. Come and sit, my dear girl, and all will be revealed.” He smiled, but there was something off about it. It wasn’t only that he was missing teeth; he seemed to be both missing teeth and have too many teeth. It’s hard to describe, even as I type this out stone cold sober in the morning hours. “Don’t do it, Kayla he’s full of shit.” I yelled through a drunken slur as I hung between Matt and Rob’s arms. (Full disclosure: I remember none of this; if not for the Instagram story I wouldn’t even know what happened). Kayla disregarded my warning and sat at the card table in front of the wagon. She handed over her money and held up her phone. “Is it okay if I record this?” She asked. “But of course! Then everybody can come to see Teddy Beauchamp for their fortunes!” “No Kayla let’s go! He’s a fuckin’ crook.” I yelled. I can be an insistent drunk. Kayla flipped me off and returned to her card reading. I remember this part vividly, even through the drunken haze. I was staring at Kayla, and the card table, and the vagabond fortune teller, and a lone rogue thought entered my mind. I bet I could break that fucking table. “I should do it,” I said. “Yeah, yeah,” Rob said, an off hand dismissal of my drunken words. I looked at Matt and Rob, who were both watching the fortune teller shuffle. Looking back on Instagram, he truly was amazing with those cards, flipping them into the air with ease and then working them back into the deck effortlessly. Those cards danced through the air. But I didn’t see it. All I saw was that goddamn table. IknowI could break that fucking table. “I’m gonna do it,” I said. It was barely audible but you could hear me say it on Kayla’s Instagram story. “Tell me pretty miss, what question would you like to know the answer to?” the fortune teller said as he spread his deck onto the table. I pulled my arms off Matt and Rob’s shoulders. By the time they realized what I was doing it was too late to stop me. I was off like a shot in a dead sprint towards that table. I dove at the table, and yelled at the top of my lungs, “Morphin time, motherfucker!” I executed a perfect elbow drop, the likes of which not seen outside of a WWE event. Unlike the tables they use in wrestling, this one was made of solid wood, but I still managed to shatter it into splinters as my weight came crashing down on it. The fortune teller’s cards went flying in every direction. “Todd, what the fuck?!” Kayla yelled, pointing her phone in my face. “Worldstar!” I yelled as I flipped off her phone. Even through the alcohol I knew I had bruised up my side pretty good. But that was going to be the least of my problems. “You drunken fool!” the fortune teller said as he straddled over top of me on the splintered remains of his table. His eyes were bright blue against his olive skin. Rob and Matt approached, but stopped short when the fortune teller turned to face them. “You best back away lest you want some of what which your friend got comin to ‘im!” The look he gave was enough for them to stand down. But drunk me was too hammered to know how bad I had fucked up. I was laughing through the pain in my side as I sang the Power Rangers theme. The fortune teller grabbed me by my morphsuit and lifted me closer to his face. “You interrupt a witch doctor in the process of conducting business, you break my property, and you think it’s funny?” “Aww, there, there,” I said in between fits of giggling as I patted him on the top of the head. “Are you mad that I broke up your little shit show?” I looked up at Kayla, who was still recording. She seemed genuinely concerned, but I was too drunk to care. The fortune teller dropped me back to the ground as he brayed out a dark, disconcerting laugh. Even drunk me was a little freaked out because on the video I stopped laughing. “You want a shit show? I’ll give you a shit show!” He said. The fortune teller chanted in a foreign tongue as he glared down at me. At the time I could swear I heard drums, but they weren’t picked up on Kayla’s Instagram video. He stopped chanting as he held out his thumb. He reached his thumb behind his back sliding it under the back of his trousers, screwing his face up as he dug his thumb in there, really rooting around. He grimaced the whole time but didn’t blink once. “Oh God, is he?” Matt said. “Okay, seriously dude, what the fuck?” Rob chimed in. The fortune teller removed his thumb from his pants and held it in front of him. Staring up into the light I couldn’t see anything different about it, but I heard Kayla gagging. Despite that, she kept her phone up, recording. He smeared his thumb across my forehead and recited a rhyme: “When the hands of the clock reach eight and ten, my hex upon you shall begin.” The smell of warm shit rolled down my face like a smelly veil, wafting into my nostrils. I flipped onto my stomach and retched as the old fortune teller pointed and laughed. A second time Matt and Rob tried to come to my aid but the fortune teller pointed his shit covered thumb at them. It might as well have been a machete; no one was getting any closer. “It is done!” he said in between cackles of laughter. I righted myself and got to my feet, lunging at the fortune teller. I slammed him against against the side of his wagon but he kept laughing. “You think that’s funny?” I asked. “What are you talking about?” “It is coming! You cannot stop it!” he added, waving his thumb in my face as he laughed. I grabbed his arm and pinned it against the wagon. “What’s coming?” I asked as I slammed him over and over again into the side of his wagon. His laughter continued, mocking me. Then he grabbed me and pulled me close, whispering into my ear. At the time I didn’t hear what he said, I was so angry about the smeared shit on my forehead I was snarling with rage. I reared back to deck the old bastard but he ducked at the last second and I slammed my fist into the side of his wagon. I howled in pain as he wormed free of my grasp, brandishing his brown thumb to my friends and sister as he made his escape. “It’s coming!” he yelled one last time before throwing his hand to the ground. A great billowing cloud of smoke erupted at his feet, and then he was gone. Matt and Rob broke from their trance and helped me wipe the shit unibrow from my forehead. Despite my protests, Kayla kept her story on Instagram. I didn’t realize how much I’d thank her for it later when I needed help remembering the events of the evening. By the time I woke up this morning most of last night’s events had disappeared from memory. My side and my hand were both bruised up, and I had a wicked headache but otherwise I was fine. It wasn’t until I was sitting in my morning econ class that it hit me. A long, low gurgle, loud enough to catch the attention of the guy sitting next to me. I shifted in my seat as I felt an uncomfortable rumbling in my stomach. Another belly bubble rippled through my insides. This time it was so loud everyone turned to look, including the instructor. I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my gut, wincing as another wave of stomach rumbles rolled through me. I glanced up at the clock above the whiteboard. 8:50am. His words echoed through my brain. When the hands of the clock reach eight and ten, my hex upon you shall begin. The stomach pains were gaining in strength and moving deeper into my gut. As I stood to collect my things I could feel the pressure building. I clenched and walked as stiff legged as possible out of the classroom. I was sweating, my legs and hands were shaking, but I held it together until I made it out of class. I was not about to shit my pants in public if I could avoid it. The nearest bathroom wasn’t too far away, but in this state it might as well have been at the end of a 5k run. Each step to get there was a calculated forward movement in order to hold off any rear movements. I made it to the bathroom. There were three stalls, two were occupied. I preemptively unfastened my belt as I shuffled to the open one. I let out a shuddered laugh, my moment of relief was almost upon me. And not a moment too soon, the floodgates had held back the deluge, but my body was shaking. I didn’t know how much longer I could last before... I pushed the thought out of my mind. Don’t even think about that. You’re going to make it. I willed myself forward to the stall, taking the babiest of baby steps. I didn’t bother locking the door, I didn’t care. My hands were occupied with holding my pants up and every fiber of my being was focused on not decorating the bathroom tile with whatever was building in my intestines. Another long slow gurgle bubbled deep within, almost sounding like wicked laughter. Whatever was coming, it was going to be bad. I waddled to the bowl, turning around and dropping my pants to the ground like an elementary school kid. My feet were in position. I shook as I took a deep breath, then counted to three. At three, I squatted down as fast as I could onto the bowl. As soon as the plane of my body broke vertical, I was unable to hold back the fury. Oh. My. Fucking.God. A solid stream of hot black liquid exited my body with violent, unrelenting, unstoppable force. It was like a SpaceX rocket right after ignition. Plumes. There were plumes of black shit exiting my body in a billowing thunderous cloud. Fooooooosshhhhhhhhhh! My stomach unleashed an unholy guttural rumble as it showed no sign of stopping. My legs were shaking as I held onto the sides of the seat, the force of the ejection felt like it was enough to lift me into the air. I could feel tears streaming down my face as my bottom lip quivered. But the forceful uncontrollable purge of my bowels showed no sign of slowing. My lower intestines had been replaced by a firehose. No, a fire hydrant. The guy in the stall beside me flushed and exited. He walked past my open stall, and for a moment we made eye contact. Time seemed to slow down as our gaze locked on one another. I don’t know what he saw when he looked at me, but in his eyes I saw the look of pure fear. My stomach cramped as I felt the stream exiting my body begin to give out. I almost slid off the toilet as my stomach muscles stopped spasming. I wept openly, sobbing as the stench of death wafted up from the bowl. “What have I done? What have I done?” I called out between sobs. “Fuck, dude. Go to a doctor,” the guy in the other stall answered. He flushed and fled the scene. I flushed, feeling the cold refreshing splash of clean water against my backside. It felt so good. My sobbing turned to laughter. But it didn’t last long. My stomach rumbled again. Much like before, the waves of rumbles and gurgles worked their way down through my gut until it unleashed another round of dark furious hell upon the bowl. The second bout wasn’t as long as the first, but it was just as painful and judging from the bowl, just as black. Three more times it hit me, although by the end it was like a dry heave at the opposite end of the digestive tract. My body still wanted to shit, but there wasn’t anything left. Like a jet engine in a vacuum, trying to generate thrust with no means of combustion. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to move from my spot in the bathroom, not until I knew I wasn’t going to violently void myself in public. As I sat there on the toilet, I played back Kayla’s Instagram video in between stomach rumbles, specifically the part where the fortune teller leaned in and whispered in my ear. I played it over and over, putting on headphones so I could pick up what he was saying over the sounds of my digestive tract's rebellion. Finally, after hundreds of replays I heard the name of the curse he unleashed upon me. It was just one word. “Shitstorm.” I texted Kayla, explaining as much as possible via text and asking her to bring me some adult diapers. Once I felt pretty confident I could make it, I was going to attempt a stiff legged run back to my apartment, after which I intended to track down that fortune teller and get him to remove this curse. If anyone has any ideas I’d be more than willing to try them. Otherwise I’ll report back later if I have any information. Wish me luck. |Part 2|
Smash Bros is the most fun game I've played all year.
Destiny, Infamous, Halo MCC, Diablo 3, Mario Kart 8. I own them all, loved them all, but none compare. Last night I had 10 people over my house, and we all decided to give 8 player smash a go. It is absolutely the most fun way to play a video game with a large amount of people (we had 4 GameCube controllers, one gamepad, one Pro, and 2 3DS playing). Everyone is laughing, everyone is screaming, everyone is fighting for their lives. 4v4, 7v1 (everyone stands to one side, taunting, and takes turns fighting 1v1, then maybe get a little Worldstar and jump the one player), 3v3, 2v2v2v2, 1v1 tournament, 4 player stadium, 2 player events, spectate real matches and bet with drinks, 2 player online. We played for hours on end. We concluded with an agreement that we all felt like kids again smashing it out on GameCube wrapped around our television in the living room. Thank you Nintendo for giving me the most fun I've had playing games all year. Anyone else feel this way? Play the same ways? Any new ways?
One time I got drunk and went to jail for stealing tropical fish from this hotel aquarium and violated my parole, but the public defender got my sentence down to 20 days in jail and 271 hours of community service - they had a nigga hemmed up with that weed whacker going around in traffic circles in Hollywood Florida during rush hour! I do that shit in my steel toes because this is a gang of syringes in that grass hurt me, when those motherfuckers stick you in the foot you gonna walk around suicidal thinking you got the germ. One time I got hungry, chained up the weed whack and ran across the street to grab me some Doritos and a Snapple (because that's my motherfucking snack). When I got over the old boy rolled up with that street cart (and this is when I was first getting on that health kit) so I decided to get me a corn dog instead trying to get up on them vegetables, plus I got the ketchup for the tomatoes and just did it like a salad. But I still had to go in store to get my Mango Madness Snapple cuz he only had them Squeezies and the bottle of water - and I'm really in the mood for that cuz I was thirsty. As I entered the clerk was like "TJ! I just stocked that Mango Madness for you!" Clockwork my nigga. I'm strolling past the freezers and for the first time I notice they got Very Cherry Snapple, Lime Green, Mint, Raspberry, Kiwi Tiwi, Summer Peach and Snappricot - nigga this looking like a gay pride Snapple promotion in this bitch! I go to the front counter I'm like "Man, when y'all get all these other Snapples?" They was like "We always had them." I said "You always had Apple Pie flavored Snapple, right here?" He said "Yes." I said "Why didn't you tell me?" He said "Cuz you like the Mango Madness!" I said "How you know that?!" He said "Nigga you buy it every day!" You want to know what they gave us for lunch every fucking day in Davie County Correctional Facility? Mango fucking Snapple. I never drank Mango Snapple 'til I went to jail, cuz niggas don't drink Snapple - niggas drink Tang! Aspiring astronauts, you get that? Now I'm a free fucking man, get to wear my own shoes get to suck my own dick, I walk into a variety store, a variety store and all I can see is Mango fucking Snapple. And guess what else? They got corn dogs in the fucking store! Hell I need a Halal corn dog for, I'm noticing sunflower seeds, corn nuts, beef jerky, ding dong, Twinkies (God bless them Twinkies man) - Mike and I nigga, they got DiGiorno pizza thick crust! It's a microwave and burritos in this bitch and all I have but notice is what? Mango Snapple. Why? Cuz all the nigga loves is all that nigga knows, and the nigga that don't know much don't want much. Through my daily practices, I had developed a subconscious habit - if all you know about is twerking 'till yo pussy sweat burning in the ratchet-ass club, more than likely you ain't been to the Circus Olay (that's that upper echelon shit). If all you know about is swinging on a female and posting the shit on Worldstar, I bet you ain't no member of the State Assembly. And if all you ever do is sit in your house hating on the nigga's mixtape you probably diabetic, faggot. Need to see your fucking physician! Cuz all the nigga loves, is all the nigga knows, and the nigga that don't know much don't GROW MUCH! So I ask you this. What are your daily practices?
Hi Zorost99, you're not shadowbanned, but some of your comments/submissions were removed. Comments/submissions may be removed automatically by spam filters and not necessarily by human moderators. Reviewed most recent 250 comments/submissions. Found 43 removed. Comment: /Conservative, 2018-11-29, "The Left Hates You. Act Accordingly.", 1pts:
So why do you push for everything that goes against those things? Immigration, gun control, mass media that pushes degeneracy, schools that push degeneracy, candidates that label 1/4 of the electorat...
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They vote Democrat, and Republicans shreak in fear at the thought of being called racist by their enemies. I don't see it changing any time soon. Of course, when it does change it will be very quick...
I don't know why so many people in this thread are freaking. All we have to do is ban sharp edges like the UK has done and all this needless bloodshed will end. Might be a slight increase in bludgeo...
How DARE you deny the 3000 that died because of Trump, that is 30,000 people that will never apply for EBT because of him, and just because these 300,000 people are likely to vote Dem is no reason to ...
How DARE you deny the 3000 that died because of Trump, that is 30,000 people that will never apply for EBT because of him, and just because these 300,000 people are likely to vote Dem is no reason to ...
How DARE you deny the 3000 that died because of Trump, that is 30,000 people that will never apply for EBT because of him, and just because these 300,000 people are likely to vote Dem is no reason to ...
How DARE you deny the 3000 that died because of Trump, that is 30,000 people that will never apply for EBT because of him, and just because these 300,000 people are likely to vote Dem is no reason to ...
Being a token everywhere you go and the fluidity of the weak concept of race
This is something that defines our experience. This is why the term "hapa" for us is incorrect because if you go to Hawaii, there are a plurality of hapas and they have their own concise history and culture. But to be us is to be a token everywhere you go. To be just "Asian" amongst white people and to be white, some other race or "only half" amongst Asians. Many of us live in places where Asians are a minority, so we are weirdly treated as white by resentful non-whites who hate white people. But what are the benefits of a being a token? There are no real benefits from being perceived as an Asian male around a bunch of white people or black people. Sorry. It's all "good at math" jokes and being reminded "you're Asian" every two seconds. Whenever I hung around Asians, they insisted I must be another race like Latino or black like I need to go to ancestry.com to find out who my real parents are or some shit. The Asians who could tell I was Asian could always tell I was "only half" and reminded me of this. The Asians in college reminded me of this at the bar when I tried to talk to them and hang out with them. They were extremely dismissive of me. It sometimes varies with the crowd you keep around. If you're around liberal PC yuppie whites in generic suburbia or gentrified city areas, the racism is much more covert, but it's there. You'll often walk in on a circle of your white "friends" talking about how "white people are the real minority". You'll see other token Asian men constantly throwing their race under the bus cooning it up for white people making Asian jokes in a stereotypical accent. But in these PC liberal white groups, you are always held at a distance. They don't call me to hang out or check up on me like my hapa friends. The more spoiled and younger white kids are more openly racist than the older working group who have learned not to put their foot in their mouth. You'll hear white people making jokes about Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima being applied to everything and giving you smirky looks. Or asking you how you feel about issues that apply to all Asians in a smart ass way. Being rejected by white people is a very personal rejection because we are half-white. It's like a man not claiming his bastard son and refusing to have anything to do with him. With token blacks, the rejection from whites is not as personal because most token blacks seem to have two black parents. Tokenism for blacks usually occurs as a result of the Huxtable family living in white suburbia story line. Even token half-black/half-white kids have it better because they are accepted as black. Even though Drake is an overly emotional, soft as a baby's ass rich half Jew child star from a Nickelodeon show turned pop singer from a exclusive rich white suburb in Canada, black people in every hood in America worship Drake. That's how deep the one drop rule is for black people. I've seen token blacks be harassed by whites for "not being black enough" meaning not being a cartoonish tattooed gun holding lean sipping Worldstar stereotype. But token blacks no matter how corny and nerdy they are usually still get with white women easily because of the stereotypes of black men being better in bed. I can pass for different races around different people. I remember hanging around a group of predominantly white people a few years ago who thought I was blasian because the token black guy in the group swore I looked like a young version of his grandfather. The treatment was completely different. I was no longer reminded I was Asian every two seconds. The fat token Asian girl in the group instantly became pressed on wanting to talk to me and even tried to reach out to me on a dating site where I had a profile. The fat Asian girl said the n-word around me with a soft "a" and saw I didn't react angrily and I saw her face light up like she was delighted to have an official pass to say that shit. I bet if she knew I was half-white and not half-black, she would have been disgusted by me. It's like the white group I was hanging around had much more respect for me because they thought I was half-black/half-Asian instead of white/Asian. It's as if the rules of white-created racial stereotypes where black hyper masculinity is the only thing that can save a man from being emasculated by any significant recognizable amount of Asian blood. When the white people thought I was half-black, I became 10 times cooler automatically. My life story of being raised in the ghetto in California became 10 times more believable and authentic despite the fact that a huge percentage of Asians in California reside in ghetto areas from Long Beach to Oakland. My clothes, music selection and choice of slang became something to mimic. Whenever a group of black people thought I was half-black, there was a feeling of acceptance that I have never experienced in my life.
Crusty: A word describing someone who is stale, salty, cranky, grouchy, grimy, crispy, crunchy, prickly, crotchety, crabby all at the same time; devoid of a nut. Someone who is crusty can only be cured by the following: 1. Get his/her nut 2. eat uncrustables 3. Throw a lip 4. rip cigs. I love my friends to death, but my friend's friend, is the exception. It all started the day we first met. My friend, who we will call "Dolphin Master", and I were going to spend the night at our friend's house. It was around ten at night when we arrived and we noticed another car pull up to the driveway. Our friend's parents were out of town and he didn't know any of his neighbors on a friend level, so we were starting to get nervous about who it could be. An angry drug dealer? A pissed off boyfriend? Too many cooks? Nope, it was Crusty. Mother. Fucking. Crusty. The crustiest neckbeard on the face of the earth. Maybe even under it as well. This motherfucker was so crusty, that his skin was toast crumbs and rice crispy flakes. Crusty emerged out of his car like the ashy-ass bitch he was. You could see his car get several pounds lighter from the years of crustification. "Hey, guys! Are you staying at The Neckbeards (our friend's house) too?" Every time he opened his mouth, it was like you could see bits and pieces of his lips fall off. Almost like he was continously eating toast or crackers. Me: "Uh, yeah. I didn't know that anyone else was going to be here." DM: "Yeah, I would have brought more drinks, haha." Crusty: "That's alright, I'm pretty sure the neckbeards have appropriate means of rehydration." Me: I will fuck your corpse We made our way inside trailing behind Crusty. We could see the paint peeling and chipping off the wall as we walked through the kitchen. When we got to our friend's room, the air itself solidified. If you were to bite at the air, you would get a mouth full of crust. The air wasn't crisp, it was crust. You get where I'm going? These motherfuckers were crusty as fuck. Our friend's room was comprised of our friend, his brother, DM, me, and Crusty. And it didn't help that it wasn't really that big enough to fit all of us comfortably. Our friend (that we are going to call Pugsley Neckbeard because I'm tired of saying friend) was playing league of legends on his laptop, his brother (Wednesday Neckbeard. Yeah I know Wednesday Addams was a girl, but Wednesday Neckbeard was a punk BEITCH) was playing call of duty, and crusty brought out his laptop and joined PN on league. Me and DM needed to kill time until they were bored with their games and wanted to do other stuff. So I brought out my laptop as well and started watching some videos. But not just any ordinary videos, Worldstar Hip-hop videos. I remember seeing worldstar for the first time and seeing how fucking crazy the vids were and thinking to myself "I gotta show my friends this". So we started watching fight comps and sure enough, the neckbeards start to notice. PN: "What are you guys watching?" Me: "Worldstar videos." WN: "Isn't that a website full of videos featuring black people and dangerous minorities?" Me: "this kid Uh, yeah, I guess..." PN being "the adventurous one" stopped playing league and joined us. Then eventually, WN joined. Crusty remained at his laptop. He glanced over. Crusty: "gasp Why are you all watching videos of those...savages!?" DM: " Umm, because it's funny?" Crusty: "You think the degradation of human society is a joking matter? snort You must have lived a sheltered life then!" Crusty grew up in a rich white household, his first car was a brand new mustang...that he traded for a jeep. We ignored him and watched on. Twelve fight comps later, we had enough worldstar for one day and decided to play Life. Boy, I wish we hadn't. I REALLY wish we hadn't. We set up the board game and distributed cards. I can't remember what everone got but I do remember that Crusty chose the "don't go to college" path and got famous athlete or something like that. Crusty: " Haha! I always was fond of neanderthalic pastimes!" Me: "KEh Alright, I got the highest spin, so I go first..." We played and played and at the end of the game, he was in crippling debt and dead last.
mfw went to college and picked Doctor
But the part that I lost at, was this. If you are unfamiliar with the game of life, you get life cards throughout the game. You can cash them in during the game or at the end. Each card says different stuff on it (won the lottery, Nobel Peace prize, tax refund, etc.). I get one of my life cards and jokingly say "Hey, DM. I got 10k for having the biggest dick in the world." Crusty: "NO WAY. DOES IT REALLY SAY THAT!? I turned toward DM and whispered, "is this nigga serious?" Me: "No, it doesn't say that. I was joking." This dense motherfucker still didn't believe me and wanted to see my card. He took it and read it at least five times until he realized I was joking. By the time the game was over it was already one in the morning. We all took our places on the floor and tried to sleep, except for Crusty. Crusty: "Do you two have girlfriends?" Me and DM: "No." Crusty: "Oh, that's too bad. I have a girlfriend and we have sex everyday." Me: I bet your fleshlight cries when you're done with it Me and DM were finally almost asleep, when we heard the door open. It was PN's girlfriend. PN's girlfriend was a...very round woman. Fuck it, this bitch was fat and also a bitch. She would always eat everyone's food when they weren't looking and hated on everyone that played videogames when her boyfriend lived and breathed games more than any of us. Fatty squeezed herself through the door frame and walked aimlessly in the dark. She stepped on me and my phone many times and didn't apologize; Whatta bitch. She eventually made it to PN's bed and climbed the ladder (he has a bunk bed with a couch underneath it). You could hear each step cry and crack under this mammoth's weight. Me and DM heard the loud smacking of lips and then the squeaking of bed springs. We didn't care at this point. We were tired and out of fucks. Me and DM: "Nope. Uh-uh. We're out." We gathered our shit and left to my car. Me: "Fuck this, let's go to Foreigner's house...shit." DM: "What?" Me: "I left my keys in PN's room." DM: "Fuck." We slept in my car. Tl;DR: The embodiment of crust acts crusty and thinks I won the award for biggest dick in the world.
YouTube Video By LordScorpiozz382: OMG GUYS! LOOK WHO WAS IN ATTENDENCE AT THE PPV!!!!
A fan holds his phone vertically and films as Brodie is now in the crowd and celebrating with the fans while Dragon is in the ring. The fan turns the camera around. Fan: BOOOOOOO NOT AS GREAT AS ZEB DRIVER WINNING THE AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP!* The fan tries to get a chant going while he looks around the audience with his phone. Fan: ZEB DID IT BETTER! clap clap clapclapclap by himself ZEB DID IT BETTER! clap clap clapclapclap by himself Another fan wearing a Stephen Romero shirt yells back at the filming guy. Other fan: DUDE, LET HIM HAVE HIS MOMENT, BRO! The filming fan comes back with a great comeback to this shattering all the hopes of the other fan to shut up Fan: SHUT UP! I BET YOU’RE A JACK SENPAI AND SPARTAN SHOWERS FAN! Other fan: YOU’RE RIGHT! HE HAS IMPROVED AS OF LATE AND I LIKE WATCHING HIM WRESTLE NOW BUT I’M NOT A FAN O- Before the other fan can interrupt, the master of comebacks responds Fan: BUT HE’S THE FACE OF THE PG ERA! SHUT UP! SIMON ZOOM IS MUCH BETTER THAN HIM! AND YOU ARE A FAN OF SPARTAN SHOWERS SO SHUT UP KID! He turns the camera back around, Brodie Hansen now gone while Dragon is still in the ring celebrating Fan: NOW BRODIE IS GONE! THANKS STUPID! YOU JUST BURIED ME! HEHE, SEE WHAT I DID THERE? The fan shakes the camera while he laughs and continues to film Dragon in the ring celebrating while a huge man in front of the fan stands up, blocking his view. He wears a black hoodie and a trucker hat along with jeans. Fan: SIT DOWN, YOU MARK! The fan tries to pull on the guy, trying to pull him down back on his chair but the man reaches behind him and grabs his hand. Huge man: Don’t try that again. The fan grabs ahold of his doritos bag he sneaked in, clutching it tightly as it is the first time he has ever been told no. Fan: REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! The camera continues to film before the guy takes off his hoodie and hat, underneath revealing a familiar leather cut Fan: WOOOOOOOOO!! MARK DU- Dutch quickly turns around and places his hand on his doritos covered beard. Dutch then almost quickly takes his hand off it before he wipes his hand off the guy his shirt, not making his hand any cleaner, but it will do. Dutch: I’m here just to fucking watch, yeah? Don’t you steal his moment by saying i’m here and putting the focus on me. You got that? The fan quickly nods and Dutch turns around again, looking at Dragon. Meanwhile the fan has still opened up his iPhone and recording, Dutch’s voice muffled so the guy brings the camera as close to Dutch as he can without Dutch noticing Dutch: [..] I hope you remember the House Party after the last PPV where I came back. The first round of the tournament.. I didn’t. No disrespect, you know I love you like a brother, but i’m next in line now. I’m coming for that title, Andre- Phone:tututu tu tututu tu tu tu tu. tu. The iPhone is getting called while the guy holds it close to Dutch his head, thus Dutch getting the tone directly in his ear. Dutch immediately turns around at the guy, who squeaks. Fan: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! The fan bolts up, his doritos falling on the floor and he films down at the crushed bag. Fan: REEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! The fan now quickly runs away. Runs? Maybe, it would be running compared to a snail. He quickly runs away and heads towards the door. Just as he reaches the door, he yells something. Fan: THIS IS GOING ON YOUTUBE AND WORLDSTAR HIPHOP! The video ends there.
[TDD] AFTERNOON MAGATHREAD: 🐸 YOUR WEEKLY PRESIDENTIAL RECAP 🐸
HAPPPPPPY SATURDAY CENTIPEDES 💚💚💚💚💚💚
I hope everyone is enjoying this lovely afternoon! This is Ivaginaryfriend here to deliver your weekly DANK AF Presidential Recap! Before we start, I want to send ALLLL of my HIGH ENERGY to the BASED STICKMAN and ALL OUR 'PEDES at the BOSTON FREE SPEECH RALLY TODAY!!
༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY HIGH ENERGY 'PEDES ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ !!!!
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