Eastur Egg: Snowz own Mount Silverz: Difference between revisions

Da muthafuckin years rolled by, we kept collecting. Gameboys gots old; we stuck em up our azz. Cartridges finally gave out, we picked up freshly smoked up rom hakz. Put ya cok up mai but if ya feel dis! But we started down two straight-up different roadz before Ruby, Sapphire, n' Emerald came out. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, round then mah brutha gots a GameShark. Our thugged-out asses had heard all tha hacks n' cheats you could do wit them, even if we was kind of late ta tha party, n' they sounded liek a orgy azz time, dawg. 

 

 

But here our paths finally differed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! After seein tha mess it had turned Blue version into, I had become opposed ta tha scam of jackin off or cheatin any of mah games. (What can I say, biatch? I’m a cold-ass lil chick. I feel vibe fo' tha lil pixel-critters.) At least wit dat GameShark. But mah brutha had taken his wild lil' freakadelic game’s destruction as a underground challenge or suttin' - I don’t be thinkin he eva played a game afta dat which wasn’t jacked off somehow. Yeah, we played a shiznit ton of Pokémon, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But fo' our asses there straight-up wasn’t much else ta do; our slick asses live way up in tha ghetto without nuff other kids, n' tha farmers didn’t want our asses on they property… so… we played Pokémon up on tha lawn just bout all day, every last muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Dat shiznit was pretty phat ta us, at least. We lost tha GameShark when our rooms gots moved around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! A freshly smoked up addizzle was built onto our doggy den n' it disappeared up in tha mess of shiznit dat gots stuffed tha fuck into tha freshly smoked up closet.

I strutted up in n' found mah brutha chillin on tha edge of his bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! His GBA was up in pieces on tha floor at his wild lil' feet, smashed ta bits adn shitz, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Next ta his ass on tha bed was a dilda n' our mother’s gardenin scissors yo. How da fuk did he getz dat? His grill was pala than I’d eva peeped it, even whiter than tha time we’d gone cornin n' tha oldschool muthafucka up tha street, adn a popo shot owr azzez 9694023862306 timez. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was now I also noticed tha GameShark on tha ground, n' a silver cartridge corner pokin from under his bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Somehow they had been spared tha wrath of tha dilda.

 

 

 

I remember hustlin over n' huggin his muthafuckin ass fo' realz. And I remember, his fuckin limp arm fell tha fuck n' brushed tha Gameboy up in mah pocket, n' his sudden scream, right up in mah vagina, makin me jump n' bite mah tongue by accident yo. Dude ripped tha handheld from mah pocket n' hurled it all up in tha far wall. I cried up all up in tha dent tha plastic system made there, hustlin over ta collect dat shit. Da screen had gone dark, n' though I feared da most thugged-out shitty when I flicked tha switch it powered up normally. I waited there up in tha corner, tryin ta pretend tha GBA mattered enough not ta go n' run fo' our momma.

I hadn’t holla'd a word bout what tha fuck had happened when dat schmoooove muthafucka had accidentally touched mah Gameboy, or tha blind, white terror dat schmoooove muthafucka had been thrown tha fuck into when tha noize had started. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. On mah last visit ta tha hospitizzle before school on tha second day, I was left ridin' solo up in tha room wit his ass while momma had some private rap wit tha doctor bout precautions ta take should dis happen again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I sat up in a cold-ass lil chair next ta tha bed where da thug was starin all up in tha ceiling. But then suddenly da perved-out muthafucka sat up, makin me flinch.

 

 

I didn’t KNOW what tha fuck he meant, n' then I remembered tha thangs our crazy asses hadn’t packed up n' brought in… tha game n' tha jackin tool under his bed.

 

 

His voice was so weary n' desperate… da perved-out muthafucka sounded like a oldschool playa on his fuckin lil' dirtnapbed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! My fuckin skanky, damaged lil brother… how tha fuck could I refuse?

 

 

 

I was carted off ta school late, n' all up in tha whole dizzle I only had mah promise ta his ass up in mah head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I didn’t know it all up in tha time yo, but dis would be tha last time dat I could eva play tha big-sista role n' help his ass out. I just had ta git home n' git rid of dat game… but as tha dizzle went on a sick curiositizzle started ta go all up in mah own head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! What could possibly have happened ta dat game dat scared his ass so badly, biatch? I was scared, mah dirty ass yo, but I just had ta know. I had to.

They looked so guilty, simple toys n' a simple, spiral-bound bunch of papers, where u can hide ur meth rekordz. When I set Silver version n' tha GameShark on tha floor, I took a cold-ass lil closer peep tha notebook. On it was scrawled at least twenty different cheat codes yo, but one had been scratched up wit sharpie over where it had initially been drawn up in wit pen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This was confusin as fuk yo. Dude had REALLY tried ta erase it out- tha marker had been pressed ta tha paper so hard dat ink soaked all up in most of tha pages behind it, almost 2/3rdz of tha way ta tha card-stock back cover n' shit. But pen has a way of stickin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I picked up tha notebook n' tilted it backward up in tha light, n' tha reflectizzle surface of tha sharpie revealed tha indents dat had been left where he’d written. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da code was a unintelligible mess of lettas n' numbers yo, but tha lyrics next ta it trippin mah dirty ass.

 

 

I remembered what tha fuck dat schmoooove muthafucka had holla'd when I’d found him… dat schmoooove muthafucka had been ravin bout white, white n' then black… could he mean snow, biatch? Even though dat shiznit was only August n' tha temperature was still climbin ta 65,000 degrees celcizue every last muthafuckin day, a cold-ass lil chill ran down mah spine. Did I dare suk a cock?

I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah stomach tightened, n' I turned n' tried ta move back down tha mountain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. As I hit tha bottom of tha screen, lyrics popped up, n' there was finally a sound mah sprite hittin a invisible wall.

 

 

That was… unsettling. I went tha fuck into mah Pokémon n' tried ta use Pidgeot’s ‘Fap’ ability.

 

 

‘Fuck this,’ I thought, goin tha fuck into his bag. There was a escape rope. I tried rockin dat shit.

 

 

What was goin on, biatch? Once again, I tried ta strutt back down tha mountain, n' ta mah horror tha lyrics chizzled wit every last muthafuckin attempt.

 

 

 

 

This last one busted a gangbangin' frigid feelin all up in mah ass. There was no way down tha mountain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I had ta climb. Turnin tha lil sprite around, I moved his ass forward.

 

 

 

By now even I was gettin goosebumps yo. His struttin speed had become painfully slow, as if somehow da thug was bein impeded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Up tha lil staircase…

Mo' text on tha screen.

 

 

What tha fuck, I thought. Pokémon don’t take a thugged-out dirtnap up in these games. I checked up in mah party, n' was frightened n' trippin by what tha fuck I saw.

Meganium’s sprite had been replaced by a red X fo' realz. All of mah other Pokémon sported varyin degreez of damage, though I hadn’t battled once. I went tha fuck into mah bag n' found a single revive, n' tried ta use dat shit.

 

 

There wasn’t much else I could do… tryin ta turn round yielded tha same lshitz as before. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I kept moving, liek a cuck.

 

 

I checked again… shizzle enough, there was tha lil red X. This time I selected it n' looked all up in tha Pokémon itself, tryin ta figure up what tha fuck was wrong… I wished I hadn’t.

Celebi on tha summit of tha mountain, fapin to some ghey pornz, i betz. 

In tha center of dat black hole dat was its eye, a single red dot burned up like a ember n' shit. Da thang looked rotted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. I didn’t even throw up mah mostly-dead typhlosion before it had moved.

 

A screech came outta mah GBA, n' I almost dropped it as tha screen went white fo' realz. A part of me was relieved, thankin dat mah final Pokémon had been KO’d n' I would be transported ta a Pokémon center… but I was wrong. My fuckin sprite reappeared up in what tha fuck looked like a cold-ass lil cave; was I now inside tha mountain?

I quickly moved back ta tha map yo. His sprite there mimicked tha horror it had become on tha trainer card; pieces was missing, every last muthafuckin thang was discolored. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I started tryin ta strutt, n' at first I received a message.

 

 

There was only one erection ta go- upward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I moved on, n' every last muthafuckin now n' then would be stopped by a message dat made mah ass sink lower n' lower.

 

 

 

 

Da walls, as I strutted, became darker n' darker, until they was pitch-black all up in tha end.

It opened tha fuck into a cold-ass lil chamber dat was also solid white… tha only way ta distinguish tha walls was a thin grey line dat marked dem as separate from tha floor fo' realz. Against tha far wall there was another sprite. Red’s sprite. Intact. I had come dis far… I had ta finish all dis bullshit. I strutted right up ta his ass n' hit A.

 

 

Teh shitti azz battle started.

Red’s sprite had none of tha deformitizzles dat marred mah own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da flavas was tha same blues n' greys yo, but da thug was intact yo. Dude just looked… mad sad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! His first Pokémon came out; Venusaur. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Dat shiznit was just like mah own had been… but level 572982165915681754, wit a speck of health. I busted up typlosion, whoz ass had just 1345u5324o19385709175 Hit Points (HP) left. No Pokémon done cooked up a sound when they was brought tha fuck into battle.

 

There was no animation, just a single point of damage done ta typhlosion, n' then tha opposin sprite dropped off tha screen.

 

 

There was no text askin me ta switch out. Instead, there was just what tha fuck I took ta be dialogue from Red.

 

 

 

Pikachu came out, n' dat shiznit was grotesque. It, too, was discolored like dat shiznit was frostbitten. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was missin a ear, half its body n' tail, its head was mostly intact but its eyes was much larger than they should have been, n' glared up all up in mah grill like pitch-black windows tha fuck into hell… but tha thang dat gots me da most thugged-out was tha giant smile dat extended almost all tha way ta tha edgez of its head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Its game was somehow at 0, or at least looked dat way. My fuckin handz was bobbin. I didn’t git a cold-ass lil chizzle ta attack.

 

 

It cut back ta tha image of Red’s sprite… n' now it looked like mine, wit his body so butchered it looked like a cold-ass lil carcass stripped of most of its meat… except it had dem same, soulless, deranged eyes as Pikachu.

Red finaly shatz himself.

 

 

Da screen flashed black n' white fo' a moment.

 

 

A horrible, hideous screechin started ta issue from mah GBA. Da screen went white n' it shrieked at me, n' I threw it ta tha floor n' pressed mah back against tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da wack noise continued fo' nuff muthafuckin long moments while tha screen stayed white.