Rocko's Modern Life (Trollpasta)
This is a fictional joke story written by Schizima. Don't take it seriously.
We all remember the show Rocko's Modern Life. Oh what are you fucking scared? You have no idea what the fuck's going on. This fucking shit fucking ruined my fucking life. I had a modern life too...before Rocko. See, I worked for Nickelodean in the 90s. I started as an intern, moved up the ranks, and eventually started googling hentai for some fat sweaty man who played funtendo in the bathroom while I was trying to fucking write chi square equations on the back of a Mcdonald's napkin and pretend anyone was actually getting work done.
They're all a bunch of lazy fucks. Nickelodean was originally a soft drink and ice cream soda fountain company before they abruptedly went bankrupt due to finances and were forced to make shitty cartoons for sweaty teens to eat Mcmuffins to while playing the most recent marble light bright fun-trap mouse shit games.
Fuck you, you're not gonna believe me anyway.
Listen, Rocko's Modern Life was a show about a loveable marsupial who lived next door to a fat yellow cow and a nerdy turtle. It was an instant hit, and Nintendo thought the got away with it, but I know what the fuck they did to those animals.
As you get older, six months feels like a few weeks, your teeth are being attacked by horrific gingivitis, your face squirrels up into a raisin and your heart breaks so many times that it falls out of your fucking chest.
I loved Rocko though. Sitting in my cubicle drawing the "fun scrawls" pictures of my favorite things, pretending to be working because I was paid hourly. I was known as a "flasher" in the industry. It was my job to punch-up scenes and make them funnier, or more interesting. A well placed fart joke or a few extra screams of someone being punched could create a cornucopia of laughs for the "elite television audience" we can "the simple television viewing public."I'll be honest: we think you're stupid.
I got a VERY STRANGE VHS tape one day for review, it was episode 17 of the Rocko show. Something really fucked up happened that forced me to quit my job. My girlfriend left me. My father died. And no one at mcdonald's will talk to me anymore. From celebrity Nickelodean employee to social pariah. You will find out why in a second...
Now I warn you, this is disturbing. I loved that intro song. The hip new-wave synths. "Rocko's modern liiiiifee" yeah this was good, but rocko's face was melting. "Rockoooo's modern life!" I started to dance along in the office, to the fun music. "Rocko's modern liiiiife-" All of a sudden Rocko's skull burst out of his fucking face and started bleeding. Rocko struggled to force the skull back in his face while he yelled "spoooonky" and swallowed his tongue, keeling over in horror.
He was dead. Rocko was dead.
Yet I could still hear someone yelling "Spooooonky" over and over. What the fuck was going on. This wasn't the intro. What a saw next was so disturbing that tears burst out of my face. You see Filbert Turtle arguing with someone at a convenience counter about how 9/11 was an inside job. What the fuck. "I just don't see how twin towers could melt steel beams." He starts arguing with him until the pig gets really angry and assaults him, revealing a highly realistically render face of former president George W. Bush smiling underneath. What the fuck was I watching? Who made this.
"What the fuck!" I yelled, audibly, so loud that my boss could hear me. I mean it made sense, it was a show about a marsupial's modern life, so of course they'd argue about 9/11. Corporate funtendo dickwards planning to outsource my fucking job to Australia.
I wasn't gonna put up with this. "Get out of my office!" I yelled at the VHS tape, shaking my fist. I shook, and shook, and shook my fist. I shook my fist, and I shook it some more, took the VHS tape out and walked out the door.
Down the hall, to my boss's office. My new boss. I looked at the notecard.
Michael...Hefferman? Indeed, the executive chair swiveled around revealing a fat, yellow skinned man with cow ears and moo stubble. He smiled at me. "Welcome to the new office, Craig." My name wasn't Craig. What the fuck was going on. His head was getting orange. Oh, he was fuming with rage. "What did you do with that tape?!" He said angrily, stammering.
It was part of a conspiracy. Nick's a really messed up company. Something happened to Nick, I don't know what, but I don't like it one bit. "Gimme the tape!" The fat man yelled. What happened to my old boss, what was this.
All of the doors to the bathroom were locked and they kicked me out. A pile of orange puddling goo lay on the floor as various soggy rocko's modern life souvenir toys lay on the floor, some were crying. I went into the back office where, it was locked, but the VHS was on an old 80s bubble tv sticking out of the wall. I was forced to continue watching. Rocko was doing some illuminati ritual now, cutting his hand open and slicing his face, revealing a bloody third eye. "Spooooonky!" He screamed. "Spooonky!" Then what he said next really weirded me out. "Follow me kids!" You see rocko dive into a massive pit filled with dead bodies and swim around.
He did the backstroke, the downward dog, the sidestroke, left stroke and right stroke. Swimming through bodies. This was disgusting. Who were all these dead people. Rocko melts into a screaming spirit and floats up into the sky. His eyes exploded out of his face and his naked body exploded into popcorn.
I just needed to get out of this office. Outside, I could see 90s star Marc Summers, arguing angrily in negotiations over his raise on Double Dare. Oh he was fuming, but I worked here too. I got lost, got in an elevator, and ended up next to a bunch of people dressed in Rocko's Modern lIfe Costumes. They were smiling at me. Just smiling, but it was the costume. Ed Bighead, disheveled as hell, staring outward. "You're just a cartoon!" I yelled, but the weird thing about Nick is that the deeper you go, the more you realize they're not cartoons at all.
I tried to take his mask off and he held out a taser, warning me that I'd be tased if I came any closer. Well, Ed Bighead tased me, while he and his wife laughed at me. A man in a rocko costume joined in, somehow in the elevator, entering through a roof compartment.
I was lost in NIckelodean studios forever now. The electric shot through my body as I tried to remember the modern life.
Rocko's modern life. "SPooooonky!" I heard a voice.
I woke up tied to a chair.
What the fuck? What in god's fucking name? I was...in Rocko's house. Was this an exhibit for universal? Some kind of prototype? A bootleg? Where the fuck was I? The whole house was rendered like something out of a nightmare. The orange walls, the tacky green sofa. I looked out the window, plastic foliage. It was all fake and unreal.
"Rockooo's modern lifeee..." I heard a weird noise coming out of the floor. Someone was playing the show. And then rocko walked out. He wasn't a cartoon. He was in the suit. "What do we have here, sponky!" Rocko said. And then he opened his mouth, revealing poisonous gas. He was murdering me with poisonous gas. Rocko exploded.
Hot thermite and pieces of melted plastic exploded into my face, propelling me backwards as I was slowly poisoned by the hot gas.
He was...a robot. I should have read my Nickelodean contract. This was how they fire people. I forgot. I took out my masonic ring and read the letters "6-4-5" with a pentagram atop them. I should've known this wasn't just a festive party gift. There was a knock at the door. It was my boss, Michael Hefferman. He walked in.
"How did you like the lost episode?" He asked. What the fuck. "Lost episode?!" I stammered, pointing to my bleeding singed face and the poisonous gas, the various costumes. But this was the 90s and you couldn't just go to the police back then. "We recreated the entire Rocko's modern life here in this back studio. Woof woof I'm a heffer!" And then his pupils rolled back into his skull and he went into traditional Rocko's modern life comedy mode. This wasn't a modern life. They were writing an episode about all of this. The animators walked in. They were drawing me. "Get the fuck out!" I yelled. Ed bighead tased me again. As I passed out, they force fed me a muffin.
"Wake up and see the world for what it truly is" a tortoise whispered.
I woke up in a hospital. Was I still in the show? Was this the Rocko hospital? Or the real hospital? Where was I? I felt a strong sigh of relief when the doctor walked in. Thank god, he was human. It was all a dream. A rocko's modern dream, if you will. Something made up. No George bush 9/11, no fake set, no poison gas or masonic rituals. Just a dream.
Or so I thought.
Various washed up 90s nickelodeon stars crowded around my bed. Marc Summers smiled at me. "It wasn't a dream you little bitch." Harsh. Rocko was there too. "We really fucking hate you, you piece of shit." Jeez. "I don't like you either!" Mouthed the dog. "I think you're also a douchebag." My boss, heifferman said. "All around, you're a pretty terrible guy." The turtleman patted me on the arm.
Their faces...melted into scrambled eggs. Some weird hologram. They melted into eggs and I was left alone on the floor of the fictional hospital. Dr. Bendova took my temperature. "126 degrees." He smiled. Indeed I was melting into a puddle of hot glue into the floor. I knew that muffin was poisonous.
The doctor pulled a gun on me. "Just give me your organs, and nobody gets hurt." Indeed, Nickelodean was harvesting my organs to implant into various cartoon mascots and Marc Summers. "I call his liver!" yelled the voice of rocko, Carlos Alazraqui. They dove in with forks and knives, slowly peeling me like a ripe summer cantaloupe. They had me hooked up to an IV, so I managed to survive despite being rendered down to little more than a Nickelodean skeleton. "It's a nickelodeon skeleton!" yelled another Nickelodean skeletons. Various skeletons crowded the hospital, more skeletons than I had ever seen before, I tried to leave but there were too many skeletons. I knew this wasn't a Halloween episode. They all began to dance and party, having a skeleton party, but I wasn't feeling in the groove. "Knock on wood!" Laughed a skeleton, but that wasn't right, not a skeleton pun. One drank a beer and it went straight through him! I collapsed on the floor into a pile of bones, and I know you won't believe me, but I swear to god They melted my bone marrow into plastic and that is the VHS tape that you are listening to me write about you watching now.
If you have any more questions, don't ask me, for I am a VHS.
I have no mouth that speaks or eyes that scream, no heart that beats or brain that dreams. I am just cold plastic wired into a rectangular prism, covered in Michael Heffernan's jizm. Please save me, if you will, I'm trapped in Nickelodean studios still. From time to time they dust me off to share with the kids, like pigs at the trough. I'm sure you can save me, I'm sure you can, though now a VHS, I was once a man.
Help me please, for the love of god, I am dying inside. I am dated technology.
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