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This story was suggested to me by the person whose quote I featured in my "Sonic.exe" Riff. There's really not much more I can say as intro outside of that. So, let's get this show on the road and Riff this bitch.
This is a story about a little boy just like you, who wanted to be an adventurer. He used to be an adventurer like you, then he took an arrow to the knee. Sorry, I had to. He was about as old as you are now, had the same sort of haircut, and I think he even had that shirt. Yes, I think he did! Wow, maybe this kid is me! Gasp!
There was nothing this little boy loved more than the idea of adventure. Ok, false alarm. He always liked to explore new places, like ponds and streams he wasn't supposed to get close to, or rooms his parents told him to stay out of! Let me guess: he’s going to die.
He was normally a good child, but sometimes he made mistakes. You know how that is, don't you? Nope. I'm the Goddamn Dorkpool. I'm perfect.
One night this little boy wanted to know what it was like to go camping. "For real" camping. For realsies. He begged and begged his parents to let him camp out, and so they finally agreed to his demand. “If you don’t agree to my demands, I’ll scream loudly through all hours of the night.”
The boy's father laid out a sleeping bag on the soft, freshly mowed grass in the back yard. He helped the little boy build a fire... though it was only pretend... and they roasted marshmallows. Wait, if there was fake fire, then how did they do that? Those were real, but they didn't toast very well as you'd imagine. And the kid didn’t comment on it?
Finally, it was time for the boy to go to sleep. His father headed inside and asked if the boy would like the porch light on. "No," he insisted, "That's not 'for real' camping!" But sleeping in your backyard is totally “for real” camping.
And so it was that the little boy found himself in the dark yard, wrapped up in a sleeping bag and excitedly studying the dome of stars above. He knew most of the constellations. Do you? Ah, you do! Hey, you didn’t give me a chance to answer! Also, stop talking to me like that. It’s kind of weird.
Then the little boy heard a sound he didn't like. It was a strange whooshy-swooshy Whooshy-swooshy, I’m coming for that tooshy. sound that made his little heart race. He thought he could see something moving in the sky... a bat or an owl, maybe... but he couldn't be sure. Look up in the sky! It’s a bat…it’s an owl, no, it’s Crappypasta!
He zipped the sleeping bag a little closer to his chin.
The whooshy-swooshy sound kept happening! Twice, three times, four or five times! He stopped counting because he was too scared to remember the numbers. You're not scared, are you? Not really, but thanks for asking. Really, the scariest thing is you talking to me like I’m a kid. It makes me want to call CPS. Good, let's keep going, then. Do we have to?
The moonlight made all kinds of strange and silly SPOOKY SCARY SKELETONS ARE SILLY ALL THE SAME. shadows all over the yard. Some looked like people shadows. Others looked like thingy shadows. Not just any shadows, but thingy shadows! The light of the moon also helped the boy see something in the trees above! Slender Man, stop being a creepy pedophile. That’s the job of Catholic priests.
"That must be what made the sounds!" the boy whispered to himself. He stared up at a shape that was becoming more clear to him as he studied it. “A pentagram!”
Two very wide, round eyes with big black pupils... A jagged, zig-zaggy mouth... nothing else. There was no body, just a face! A face in the tree! Roll credits!
The boy zipped the bag some more.
There was another sound, the same sound, and the boy noticed another face right near the first. Then another... then another... there were so many faces in the trees, all staring down at the boy with wide eyes. “That kid looks weird.” Said one face. “You look weird.” Said another. “We’re faces on trees, of course we look weird!”
They never, ever blinked! Ever! Wait, so did they blink? You weren't very clear.
The boy zipped the bag up over his face, all the way over his head, and tried to be as quiet as he could. He'd never seen tree-faces before, and was pretty sure nothing good had ever been done by one. I don’t know. They allowed me to make a joke or two.
The boy tried not to think about those silly starey faces and, eventually, he fell asleep. So this kid can fall asleep despite being watched by creepy tree faces. I’ll give him credit for that.
Do you want to hear the rest? Well, I’m already this far along, so why not?
Are you sure? What are you, that menu screen in “Spider-Man Shattered Dimensions: Zombie Level”? Yeah, I do. Don’t make me regret it.
The next morning, the boy woke up inside his all-the-way-zipped-up-far sleeping bag. It was hot and moist and stifling! “Hot and moist” is not a phrase I want to hear describing things near a child. Breathing was hard, and he should have left a small air hole, probably. Oh, don’t be an air hole to the kid. Sorry, I had to.
Remembering the faces might still be out there, the boy unzipped the bag a little... then a little more... then down all the way.
He saw the faces, alright, but they weren't what he thought at all!! The wide eyes with the big black pupils, the jagged ziggy-zaggy mouths... they were nothing but flat markings! Gasp! Plot twist!
They were markings on the wings of moths that had landed in the trees!!
The moths were big. Huge. Gimendous! My spell check does not recognize “gimendous.” I call shenanigans. If anything was ever gimendous, it was these moths with the silly angry faces on their wings.
The boy laughed and smiled at the moths. They were nothing to be scared of at all! Unless you’re an introverted flame. They were pretty, with their droopy, foofy antennae, their soft brown fur and their round, shiny black eyes. They were nice, and they probably had the best adventures of anyone! Their adventures consisted of going to flames and sitting on trees.
The boy crawled across the grass to the base of one of the trees. Then, he climbed it. Up, up, up, he climbed until he was on a branch with one of the moths. Apparently this kid is an alternate version of Spider-Man. The little boy stood there in the sun, his six legs holding tight. Correction. Insect-Man. He let his wet wings dry in the sunlight while the moths all watched and flexed their own wings. I didn’t know little boys had wings and six legs. I must have missed out on that part of my childhood.
After a few minutes the little boy flexed his wings, too. He could see the same silly angry face on them! Boy, did he feel embarrassed about being scared the night before. I’d feel more worried over the fact that I’m turning into a moth, but whatever. To each their own.
When the boy's wings were good and dry, the moths all took flight and disappeared into the sky. The little boy followed them, sure that this would be a great day for exploring. “And then he flew right into the window of a truck.”
And so, now you see... "Why it is I have to stay at least 300 feet away from minors.
That's why you can't sleep outside tonight. “Now eat your broccoli, you ungrateful shit.”
This...wasn't that bad. I was honestly expecting worse. Sure, it's not scary, but it's likable. I could see what they were going for here: a story that some family member would tell their small child as a cautionary tale. And, for the most part, it nailed it. The only main fault I have is that the narrator sounds like someone I'd keep my kids very far away from.
Some might say that this story isn't very scary, and I have to agree. But it's fun and has a funny ending. Personally, I'd rather a story be fun and not scary than crappy and scary.
So, what do you think? Was this story good? Bad? Was the Riff any good? Do you wish I would become a moth and fly away? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.