Sucked In

             
                       You know, I feel that I have been reviewing too many good pastas recently. It's just that, I don't want things to get too easy. If I review all of the good pasta, then I'll be left with all of the bad ones. Now that I have started this blog, I have been going back and finding new pastas to read and review. It's amazing the sheer amount of good pastas directly under the surface. It's like digging in your back yard, and finding a cooler filled with Big Red. Naturally, there are plenty of bad pasta under the surface. Waiting, watching, and wasting away. If you dig in the ground, you're going to find a lot of dirt before you find gold. So let's dig up a big pile of bad pasta, raw and stinking, and let's get cracking, this, is Sucked In.

 

[Link to story]

                     Let's talk about mental illness, in terms of storytelling. Mental Illness, when used properly, can be the most horrifying thing on the planet. It feels so...real. The thought that there are some people out there, who are mentally unsound enough to that scary. Case in point, let's look at Silence of the Lambs. A classic film, and as scary as watching paint dry. IN HELL. Not going too deep into this topic, what makes a story about a lunatic good, is subtlety. What drives it, is the thought that that extremely attractive women you've just married, might just drag you down into the basement, and violate you with a screwdriver.

                   "Sucked In" defenestrated that idea. Then beat it with a shovel, just to be sure.  

                   Nothing. NOTHING about this story is subtle. Absolutely nothing. It flat out tells you that the main character is off of his meds, or sold them off on the street to fuel his Magic the Gathering addiction. Everything about this story is just...wrong. But hey, that's why we have websites like this, so we can review these horrid pastas. 

                    

                   Initial Thoughts: What the hell did I just read? The first time I read this...thing, I had to go back and read it again, just to try and wrap my head around it. Needless to say, I wasn't successful. I still can't grasp the true form of this pasta's attack. 

                  Summary: Forgive me if this a bit disjointed, but just read it, and you will know of my pain. So, this guy...who is explicitly insane, is flailing around on his computer. He tells his "friends", that he has to add a pony to his collection. So he kills ponies, and stuffs them and adds them to a collection of other ponies. But, surprise, surprise, it wasn't a pony at all. It was a human. AND THEN A SKELETON POPPED OUT. 

                  Reaction: What was this author going for? I can guess, and I'm probably right. The thing about short pastas, is that they are made for a twist ending. It is meant to be short, but sweet. I think what the author was going for was just another short but sweet story. The problem was that he didn't understand how they worked. Another problem is, he tells us waaay too much. He leaves nothing to the imagination. If it even is a he. 

                  Analysis: Please Mr. West, no more today. 

                  Rating: 0/5

The Girl in the Photograph

                Hello again, everyone. I have returned, and with me, I have brought another review. This one is more personal to me. Not the kind of personal that involves me staining my keyboard with the tears of reminiscence, but rather, this was my first creepypasta. Well, my first when I knew what a creepypasta was. But like I said the last time I said that, that's a review for another time. Because that one's a doozy. So, here's a lesser known one. With this pasta, I plan to demonstrate just how effectively a twist ending can make a mediocre pasta, into a not so mediocre pasta.
               But first, a little news in the world of creepypasta. As anyone who's anyone in this business (creepypasta isn't a business) knows, Tribe Twelve had a livestream on the 11th! And guess who attended? All in all, I'd say it was pretty boring. Up until the end, of course. I was kind of hoping the Observer would come and crash the party, but hey, we got a new video out of it. Guess it's not all bad. I took some pictures.

              I even got myself on camera! See, I'm on the top right. Now, I will be touching upon the topic of TribeTwelve and the mythology within, but for now, we talk about "The Girl in the Photograph." 

             Do you, if ever, remember the first time you lay awake at night after watching a horror film, afraid to shut your eyes, but afraid to look about your room? I remember mine. I watched the film Night of the Living Dead. An excellent film, one I recommend highly. Now, for those who have seen it know, but for the rest of you, the ending (no spoilers) is one of the most underhanded and darkest endings out there. Needless to say, my young brain was not prepared. I spent several hours wide awake, the ending replaying in my brain like a gif image. Now I have an appreciation for such things, but it took a long while, and many hours of sleep lost. Why do I bring up that movie in conjunction with this pasta. Simply put, much like Night of the Living Dead, the ending shed a few hours of sleep from my regular sleep schedule. How could it do that? I only read this like a few years ago. By that point I was a hardened horror fanatic. I could sleep peacefully while demons circled my beds. Ghosts? Please. I walked through Eastern State Penitentiary without so much as an eye bat, whatever that means. So why did a story about a picture, that really isn't all that good anyway, keep me up at night? Well, let's take a look shall we? 

[Link to story] 

                Initial Thoughts: At face value, this pasta isn't that impressive. It just goes places, aimless. For such a short story, that isn't what I call excellent writing. Wait, what's that? At the bottom? What is THAT?! 

               Summary: So, this guy's (Tom) in class, listening to his teacher drone on about...windmills, when out of the corner of his eye, he sees a photograph on the grass outside. So it's a picture of this girl, apparently the most beautiful he's ever seen. She is standing giving a peace sign (people still do that?). He goes to everyone, asking if they know this girl. No one recognizes her, and he gets sad. At night, he hears tapping on his window, along with giggling. The next day, he continues in his search for the mystery girl. But once again, nothing. That night, more taps come rapping on his chamber...window. This time, he walks out and follows the giggles, only to get mowed down by a truck. The driver gets out and sees a kid holding a photograph of a girl holding up three fingers. 

             Reaction: Damn. That's a pretty good twist. That's how a creepypasta should end! A twist ending that comes out of nowhere, yet fits into the story so well, that it makes you re-read the whole story, just to see how it fits in. It sticks with you, and that's what makes this story so potent. That's what kept me up at night. I could blink, and see those three fingers, mocking me. The three fingered anti sleep technique. There is no defense from that. 

            Analysis: Really, this pasta is only good for its twist. It's obvious as you read, that the whole thing was written around it. As I sit here, all I can remember about the pasta was the twist. I couldn't even remember the protagonist's name. I think it was Todd. But that ending. That ending. The stuff of heaven. Or hell. Whatever you want to call it. 

             Verdict:  For the actual writing, I'll give it a...2/5. Kinda lame, like eating raw store brand pasta. But, that twist ending is so good, I'll give it a 4/5. 

                 

THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

                   Alright, you know that this pasta is going to be important if I named my blog after it. WHO WAS PHONE? as it is often called, is the most famous "troll pasta" there is. A troll pasta is a more than often a parody of a creepypasta, designed to be humorous, rather than scary. So, if I'm supposed to be reviewing scary pasta, why even bother with something like this. Well, as embarrassing as it is, I feel...that this pasta is the most important in all of the creepypasta library. For those of you who have read this pasta, you will either facepalm, or ask what illegal narcotic I am currently hopped up on. For those of you who haven't, well, I hope you aren't drinking anything, because if you are, prepare for massive beverage ejection. Here is the most important pasta in all creation.

'So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?"

u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded."

THEN WHO WAS PHONE?' 

                    Well. It appears that I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this one. This has to be the most jumbled mess of a pasta I have ever read. And I have read a lot of them. I guess I have no choice now. You're all just waiting to see how I'm going to possibly make head or tail of this abomination. 

                     Initial Thoughts: 

                    I thank God that I am not an English teacher. The sheer amount of gammarical errors in this "story" are so immense, it's amazing that I can even find one scrap of story in it. How did this possibly become so famous? No doubt it's that last line, the absolute pinnacle of internet cultural keyboard face rolling. There is absolutely no way that this was accidental. There is thought behind this incompetency. Deep and utter guile in the placements of misspellings. So, where to begin? 

                   The Fame: 

               

                   I think this story fits quite nicely in the 'so bad its good' category, a category solely held for movies written by, starring, and directed by Tommy Wiesau. The story is bad, and I wouldn't let it near the children anytime soon, but there is a kind of Tiny Tim charm to it. Also, that line has become meme history. Don't know what a meme is? Then you shouldn't be on the internet. 

                 The Importance: 

                  Enough beat around the bush. It has sassed us enough. Why do I think this that story is so important. Well, if you remember back to my first post, I listed off structure points of creepypasta. Well, as broken as this...thing is, it actually has the most important elements propping it up, like a baby on crutches made of titanium. Let's break it down. 

'So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out-

                  Alright stop. Here is the most important part of any creepypasta. The sense of normalcy. Yes, it looks like it was run through a paper cutter equipped blender with a bear mauling at the end, but it's recognizable. He's just making out with his girlfriend. What's wrong with that? Well, it's either that, or he has mouth in a talking jar of honey. That would actually make this story scary. 

wen the phone ringz.

So, what do we have here. Well, this is the part where things begin to stir, or when the sense of normalcy begins to wear on itself. So, this unnamed guy is interrupted by a phone call. Still pretty normal. In fact a little too normal. This is ASCENDED NORMALCY. 

 U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?"

So this is where the horror escalates. If there was any. Yeah, it isn't scary. Unless you start to think about why a jar of honey has a father. Then we start having problems.  

u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded." 

THEN WHO WAS PHONE?' 

This should be pretty obvious. This is the big twist. The one that makes you rethink about what you have just  read. And shudder. Or in this case, wonder what just happened, and then agonize a corner of your house, normally populated by the dust bunny king, that you just never had the moxie to defeat. It is confusing to say the least. It is so...WRONG but it feel so right. Why? What is it about those four words that eludes all explanation, and yet sticks in your mind like a surgeon's scapal? WHO WAS PHONE has become a meme, and a running joke on /x/, the great kingdom of creepypasta, made of glass and fermenting cabbage. So, with all of this, why is it important. The REAL reason. 

                      Well...

            Here's my thoughts. Think back to my urban legend argument, and also to any urban legends that you have heard. Think back to how many of those start with two people making out, or planning on it? Yeah, see. Like 3, maybe four. However, despite the lack of ones that I can think about at the top of my head, the most famous urban legend is arguably, The Hook. Yeah, we all know it. Two kids making out with mad loot in the back of the car. The radio, who got jealous of the two, blasts some news story, crazy maniac, hook on car, who was phone. What I'm getting at is...WHO WAS PHONE is the middle ground between the urban legends of yesteryear, and the modern internet creepypastas. It has all of the makings of an urban legend (making out, creepy phone call, dead father, etc) but with that internet flavor (like sprinkling cholera on a hot dog. It so internet-ish (scientific term) and so much like an urban legend, it just falls in between in a big spectacular mess. 

                     Conclusion: 

               So, with all of that broom bashing, what do I think of WHO WAS PHONE? Well, the fact that I named my blog after it might have something to say about it. But other than that, I love it. The first time I read this, I laughed like a loon, and from that point on, I have always looked back on it as a staple of creepypasta lore. I will also reference it from time to time, like the little internet junkie I am. 

                     Rating: 

             I suppose I could measure each and every point of why this is a great pasta. But that would be point less. Screw it. 

                     Yeah...I think I can sleep easy knowing that I gave it that score. Next time...let's look at the first creepypasta I ever read...when I was actually conscious that I was reading a creepypasta. Cause the first one I ever read, well. We'll save that one.                          

Sorry...

There's going to be a bit of a delay in the next posting. I'll try to get it out as soon as possible.