Cursed Blu-Ray
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NSFW WARNING
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Like a lot of people from my generation, I'm a pretty big fan of animation and cartoons. I grew up watching Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon, which aired such classics as Courage the Cowardly Dog, Spongebob, and others that absolutely made my childhood. As I grew older, I guess my love for the medium just never faded. As I grew, so too did the cartoons I chose to consume. I began watching more intellectual shows like Rick and Morty, South Park, and my favorite of the bunch, Family Guy.
One of my favorite hobbies is collecting physical releases of my favorite shows. If I was driving along in my 2013 Dodge Dart and saw a sign that said "Garage Sale", well, you know I couldn't pass that up. Over the years I managed to collect every Blu-Ray and DVD release of all of my favorite shows. I had every Simpsons release, every release of Rolly Polly Olly, and I had firmly believed that I owned every single physical copy of Family Guy that had ever been produced. That is, until may 32nd, 2009. On that dark day, I was driving my 2013 Dodge Dart, and I saw a sign that said "Garage Sale". As previously established, I couldn't pass that up.
The skies were dark, which mirrored the oddly somber mood I was in at the time. Overcast prevented any sunshine from entering my life, not unlike my ex-wife, Jessica. My 2013 Dodge Dart was running a little funny, too. The engine screamed and howled in unnatural tones as I made my way towards the garage sale. Strangely, when I accelerated after an intersection my car skipped 2nd gear all-together and went right to 3rd after 1st. On the dash, there was 2 warning lights lit up. It was as if the number 2 was somehow cursed for me that day. Never the less, I pressed onward and before I knew it I could see that glorious garage sale through my cracked windshield.
As I pulled in, a small child ran across the short concrete driveway right in front of me. I hit the brake pedal, but unfortunately my brake pads on my 2013 Dodge Dart hadn't been replaced since at least 2008. I struck the child doing nearly 20 miles per hour. Luckily, he was alright. I swung open the driver-side door on it's rusty hinges and rushed to the child's aid. he appeared to be roughly 9 or 10 years old in age.
"Are you alright, kid?" I said, tears welling in my eyes.
"Don't call me kid, mister. I'm roughly 9 or 10 years old in age. And I'm alright." he replied before scampering off elsewhere.
I was relieved that I had not just committed vehicular manslaughter, but as the boy ran off I noticed 2 abrasions on his leg from where I had hit him. I stood in shock, terrified that the number 2 seemed to still be following me around even at a place as sacred as a garage sale. I shook my head, snapping myself back to reality.
A few minutes later I was browsing the items the home-owner had set out for sale on the plastic folding tables when I noticed the distinct blue plastic of a blu-ray box poking out from underneath a pile of social security cards. Pushing the cards away, I revealed the blu-ray case underneath. It strangely had a blank white cover, with text written in what seemed to be red magic marker.
"Fam G 2" I mouthed to myself, reading the supposed title.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" I said, calling out to the woman sitting in a lawn chair not far away, who I assumed to be the owner of the item.
"Yes?" The rotund woman answered.
"I just wondered what this blu-ray is. The case says 'Fam G 2", but I'm not sure what that is." I replied.
The woman's eyes went wide, and soon I could see tears begin to form.
"I'm so sorry..." She whispered.
What happened next was rather upsetting. She retrieved a handgun from her coat pocket (She was wearing a coat) and placed it against her own temple. I ran to her, placing my hands on her knees.
"Don't FUCKING do it!" I cried.
It was no use. She tightened her grip on the trigger of the gun and uttered her final words.
"Fam G 2..."
The gunshot was deafening, and the ground beside her was painted red with blood and brain matter. I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed the Fam G 2 blu-ray and ran back to my 2013 Dodge Dart. I didn't slow down at all until I reached my house, and not just because my brake pads hadn't been replaced since 2008.
That night, the sun had long since fallen beyond the horizon and been replaced by a full moon. I was eating a microwaveable cup of Kraft Mac N Cheese in my kitchen when I glanced to my new blu-ray which sat in the passenger seat of my 2013 Dodge Dart. My car was in my kitchen because I couldn't stop once I reached my driveway.
"I guess I have to do this. For that lady, and for the child I hit..." I muttered to myself, wiping the drywall away from the hood of my 2013 Dodge Dart.
Soon, I pulled the blu-ray from the car and opened the case. The disc was blank, like the cover, but lacked the "Fam G 2" text. I popped it in to the VHS machine and sat back, Kraft Mac N Cheese in my hand, and my 2013 Dodge Dart by my side.
The scene opened with an establishing shot of the Griffin household, as per usual. However, something was different. The view in to the upstairs window, Stewie's bedroom, was blocked, because my divorce papers were dangling from the top of my television. I moved the tear stained document and continued watching. The little jingle played and then we were taken to a shot of the Griffin living room, complete with the iconic couch.
"Hey, that's the iconic couch!" I excitedly said, careful not to move my tongue too much since I had burned it on the Mac N Cheese.
Peter was standing in front of the couch when Lois entered from stage right. She was wearing her usual attire, a green button-up and tan slacks.
"Hey Petah" She said, in her typical sex-goddess-esque nasally voice.
"Ah jeeze, what now Lois?" Peter replied.
One weird detail I noticed was that when Peter spoke, my left arm went numb and I began to smell all sorts of strange smells.
"Hey Petah..." Lois repeated. "Remembah that time we both shat violently and died?" She added.
No sooner than she was done speaking, the pair began projectile-shitting liquid diarrhea while they screamed in agony. The shit could be seen pouring down their pantlegs, and it was photo-realistic. The shit pooled beneath them and then they fell over, with crude "X"'s drawn over their eyes to indicate that they were dead. I was horrified, stumbling back and dropping my Kraft Mac N Cheese to the carpet below. Suddenly, my stomach gurgled. I could feel photo-realistic shit working its way down my colon. My eyes went wide, my life flashing before them.
"Fam G 2" I mutter.
Credited to FlongoFuchus
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