Don't Copy That Floppy: Difference between revisions
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Whatever, I thought. I figured the consoles, like the games, were modded (which I later found out to be true.) When we finished playing MAJORA, with that stupid autistic-looking Link statue following you around, Kyle stood up from the sofa, walked over to the basement door, and spoke.
"Come here,
He led me downstairs into a damp, musty-smelling cellar. It was rather cluttered, except for one corner, which had a dimly lighted area masked by a large curtain. Kyle drew the curtain, revealing a desk with an ancient computer from the nineties running on an equally ancient monitor. On the side of his two-button ball mouse was a black envelope. It was in the center of the ring of light cast by an overhanging lamp.
"What is that?
Kyle glared at me, but not in a menacing way, but rather in a pondering, analyzing way. "Aren’t you going to ask about the computer first? Why I have such a strange setup here in this shitty basement?
Then it hit me. When I saw the envelope, I immediately - almost involuntarily - shifted my attention to it. I tried to play it off. "OK,
"It happened when, on my way back from work one day, I saw a tag sale on the side of the road. There were no other customers, and the seller was this creepy looking old guy who warned me of impending doom as I took the games. I got used to that part – happens to me whenever I go to the flea market to buy something – but this time he insisted that I take this black envelope with me. So I did, and I ended up keeping it.
"I got home, opened it, and found that there was an unlabeled floppy disk inside, also black. I got the computer and monitor from one of my roommates. They were old, which was necessary for properly making use of it-
"Wait,
Kyle nodded. "It didn’t occur to me at the time. It’s the disk. It possesses you, it was the reason why your attention shifted immediately to the envelope. It’s cursed.
"And why did you need to set this up in the basement?
"OK then,
Kyle shook his head. "I tried running it before. All the data seems to be corrupted.
"Try it again,
"Watch, now,
"I got an idea,
Just then the error message on the monitor disappeared. The command box returned, and maximized itself on its own, filling the screen with darkness. Kyle was still facing away from the monitor while this was happening. "Turn around, the program’s running!
Just as Kyle faced the monitor, the black box completely covered the screen, obscuring even the operating system’s interface. Static began to fill it, until it appeared as pure noise not unlike television snow. I witnessed a humanoid shape within the flickering light, as one would see in an optical illusion. The static turned red and the shape took form.
"I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER!
[[File:MC666.jpg|thumb|Seriously. Don't copy it.]]
I was terrified at what I saw. I didn’t really know why; it was pixels on a monitor, only a complete moron would actually fear it. In the view was a man dressed in a cheap leather vest. A patch with a picture of a pentagram was tattooed onto the vest, coupled with "MC
MC 666 looked at us and laughed that terrifying Kefka laugh. "Don’t copy that floppy! Or you will die a horrible death muhahahaha!
"Uh,
"... How the fuck could I do that?" It was as if this entire situation was making me believe nonsense. And now it was making me feel like feeling like it was making me feel nonsense was nonsense. If MC 666 was trying to possess me, I was going to butt fuck him before throwing him out of my mind.
"I can hear you, cockshit!
"Fine,
"I want you to take this floppy disk,
"Why haven’t you raped us?
MC 666 laughed like Kefka again. "You already have the instruments, the tools. The old man’s box of shitty bootleg cartridges, that was me. I am all the sketchy old people at tag sales who give away games like that! And now my next victim will be compelled to play, and keep playing, my haunted games!
"Your haunted games?
"Do you understand now?
"I am the embodiment of all darkness and clichés. I plant the shitty creepypasta ideas in the minds of terrible writers, and I laugh as pathetic fanbases gather around them. I am the black eyes with red pupils, I am the hyper-realistic blood. I am the eventless level, the intern, and the nostalgia boner. So don’t FUCK with me. If you copy the floppy, I’ll appear in the form of an incredibly strong doll and MURDER you!
I copied the floppy anyways. MC 666 can go fuck himself. Still, I told Kyle that I needed to get back to my house (I actually am living with my parents right now), even though I planned to sleep over. It was just going to be too awkward if I stayed the night. When I got home, my parents were waiting for me at the front door. I told them what happened, and my mom got scared and said "you're moving with your auntie and your uncle in Bel-Air." I whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said "Fresh" and there were dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare but I thought, naw, forget it, yo holmes to Bel-Air. I pulled up to the house about seven or eight and said to the cabbie "yo holmes smell ya later." Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
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