Don't Copy That Floppy: Difference between revisions
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I know the truth now, why this all happened. Allow me to explain...
It happened when I was over my
I arrived at his house as twilight gripped the sky, and all four of his roommates were out partying. The semester had ended, but Kyle was, as I am, an introvert that feels more comfortable in basic social situations. They would likely pass out at the party, and not awake until the late morning, so the house was all to ourselves for the night.
We played video games for a couple hours, but I really
Like, hyper-realistic graphics.
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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 said. "I want to show you something. Really cool." He made a beckoning gesture with his hand. I noticed from the beginning that Kyle was off today, as if he
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.
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"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the black envelope.
Kyle glared at me, but not in a menacing way, but rather in a pondering, analyzing way. "
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," I said. "Tell me about this setup."
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"Wait," I interrupted him. "Why not just get an external floppy drive? And why does the monitor also have to be old?"
Kyle nodded. "It
"And why did you need to set this up in the basement?" I continued. It sounded so stupid, but it
"OK then," I said. "Put it in."
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Kyle shook his head. "I tried running it before. All the data seems to be corrupted." Of course it is.
"Try it again," I insisted. I was curious to see what exactly was on the floppy disk. Kyle shrugged and plucked the disk from the envelope. He inserted it into the
"Watch, now," he said. He opened up the
"I got an idea," I said. "
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
Just as Kyle faced the monitor, the black box completely covered the screen, obscuring even the operating
"I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER!" a deep voice boomed from the cheap speakers on the desk. The sound quality of the voice
[[File:MC666.jpg|thumb|Seriously. Don't copy it.]]
I was terrified at what I saw. I
MC 666 looked at us and laughed that terrifying Kefka laugh. "
"Uh," I really
"... 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.
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"I can hear you, cockshit!" MC 666 yelled in that extremely hyper-realistic voice. "Talk to me, you know you want to."
"Fine," I said. I sounded so stupid and expected Kyle to break out in a laugh when it escaped my lips, but he
"I want you to take this floppy disk," the zombie-like figure from behind the screen said. "And I want you to send it in the mail to another one of your friends. Attach a note to it, and act super scared and tell them to burn it or something stupid like that. He will play it, and I will RAPE him!"
"Why
MC 666 laughed like Kefka again. "You already have the instruments, the tools. The old
"Your haunted games?" Kyle asked. "These games
"Do you understand now?" he asked. And the strangest part was, I did. I let him run his mouth anyway because I figured it would make him feel better.
"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
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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