Squidwardz Suicide
I just wanna start off by sayin if you want a answer all up in tha end, prepare ta be pissed tha fuck off. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! There just aint one.
I was a intern at Nickelodeon Studios fo' a year up in 2005 fo' mah degree up in animation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It wasn't paid of course, most internships aren't yo, but it did have some perks beyond ejaculation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. To adults it might not seem like a funky-ass big-ass one yo, but most lil playas all up in tha time would go crazy over dat shit.
Now, since I hit dat shizzle directly wit tha editors n' animators, I gots ta view tha freshly smoked up episodes days before they aired. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be bout ta git muthafuckin right ta it without givin too nuff unnecessary details. They had straight-up recently done cooked up tha SpunkBizzle porno n' tha entire staff was somewhat sapped of creativitizzle so it took em longer ta start up tha season. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But tha delay lasted longer fo' mo' upsettin reasons. There was a problem wit tha series 4 premiere dat set everyone n' every last muthafuckin thang back fo' nuff muthafuckin months.
Me n' two other interns was up in tha editin room along wit tha lead animators n' sound editors fo' tha final cut. Our thugged-out asses received tha copy dat was supposed ta be "Fear of a Krabby Patty" n' gathered around tha screen ta watch. Now, given dat it aint final yet animators often put up a mock title card, sort of a inside joke fo' us, wit phony, often times lewd titles, like fuckin "How tha fuck sex don't work" instead of "Rock-a-bye-Bivalve" when SpunkBizzle n' Patrick adopt a sea scallop. Nothang particularly funky but work related chuckles. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So when our crazy asses saw tha title card "Squidwardz Suicide" our crazy asses didn't be thinkin it mo' than a morbid joke.
One of tha interns did a lil' small-ass throat laugh at dat shit. Da aiiight-go-lucky noize skits as is normal. Da rap fuckin started wit Squidward practicin his clarinet, hittin a gangbangin' few sour notes like normal. Our thugged-out asses hear SpunkBizzle bustin up outside n' Squidward stops, yellin at his ass ta keep it down as he has a cold-ass lil concert dat night n' needz ta practice. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SpunkBizzle says aiiight n' goes ta peep Sandy wit Patrick. Da bubblez splash screen comes up n' our crazy asses peep tha endin of Squidwardz concert. This is when thangs fuckin started ta seem off.
While playing, a gangbangin' few frames repeat themselves yo, but tha sound don't (at dis point sound is synced up wit animation, so, yes, thatz not common) but when he stops playing, tha sound finishes as if tha skip never happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! There is slight murmurin up in tha crowd before they begin ta boo his muthafuckin ass. Not normal cartoon booin dat is common up in tha sheezy yo, but you could straight-up clearly hear malice up in dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Squidwardz up in full frame n' looks visibly afraid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da blasted goes ta tha crowd, wit SpunkBizzle up in center frame, n' he too is booing, straight-up much unlike his muthafuckin ass. That aint tha oddest thang, though. What tha fuck iz odd is everyone had hyper realistic eyes. Straight-up detailed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Clearly not shotz of real gangstasz eyes yo, but somethang a funky-ass bit mo' real than CGI. Da pupils was red. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Some of our asses looked at each other, obviously trippin yo, but since our crazy asses weren't tha writers, our crazy asses didn't question its appeal ta lil pimps yet.
Da blasted goes ta Squidward chillin on tha edge of his bed, lookin straight-up forlorn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da view outta his thugged-out lil' porthole window iz of a night sky so it aint straight-up long afta tha concert. Da unsettlin part be at dis point there is no sound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Literally no sound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Not even tha feedback from tha speakers up in tha room. It aint nuthin but as if tha speakers was turned off, though they status flossed em hittin dat shizzle perfectly yo. Dude just sat there, blinking, up in dis silence fo' bout 30 seconds, then he started ta sob softly yo. Dude put his handz (tentacles) over his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' cried on tha fuckin' down-lowly fo' a gangbangin' full minute more, all tha while a sound up in tha background straight-up slowly growin from not a god damn thang ta barely audible. It sounded like a slight breeze all up in a gangbangin' forest.
Da screen slowly begins ta zoom up in on his wild lil' face. By slow I mean itz only noticeable if you peep shots 10 secondz apart side by side yo. His sobbin gets louder, mo' full of hurt n' anger. Da screen then twitches a funky-ass bit, as if it twists up in on itself, fo' a split second then back ta normal. Da wind-through-the-trees sound gets slowly louder n' mo' severe, as if a storm is brewin somewhere. Da eerie part is dis sound, n' Squidwardz sobbing, sounded real, as if tha sound wasn't comin from tha speakers but as if tha speakers was holez tha sound was comin all up in from tha other side fo' realz. As phat as sound as tha studio likes ta have, they don't purchase tha shiznit ta be dat phat ta produce sound of dat quality.
Below tha sound of tha wind n' sobbing, straight-up faint, somethang sounded like laughing. It came at odd intervals n' never lasted mo' than a second so you had a hard time pinnin it (we watched dis sheezy twice, so pardon mah crazy ass if thangs sound too specific but I've had time ta be thinkin bout them) fo' realz. After 30 secondz of this, tha screen blurred n' twitched violently n' somethang flashed over tha screen, as if a single frame was replaced.
Da lead animation editor paused n' rewound frame by frame. What our crazy asses saw was horrible. It was a still photo of a thugged-out dead dude. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude couldn't done been mo' than 20. Da grill was mangled n' bloodied, one eye danglin over his upturned face, popped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude was naked down ta his underwear, his stomach crudely cut open n' his wild fuckin entrails layin beside his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude was layin on some pavement dat was probably a road.
Da most upsettin part was dat there was a shadow of tha photographer. There was no crime tape, no evidence tags and markers, n' tha angle was straight-up off fo' a blasted designed ta be evidence. It would seem tha photographer was tha thug responsible fo' tha manz dirtnap. Our thugged-out asses waz of course mortified yo, but pressed on, hopin dat it was just a sick joke.
Da screen flipped back ta Squidward, still sobbing, louder than before, n' half body up in frame. There was now what tha fuck appeard ta be blood hustlin down his wild lil' grill from his wild lil' fuckin eyes. Da blood was also done up in a hyper realistic style, lookin as if you touched it you'd git blood on yo' fingers. Da wind sounded now as if it was dat of a gale blowin all up in tha forest; there was even snappin soundz of branches. Da laughing, a thugged-out deep baritone, lastin at longer intervals n' comin mo' frequently fo' realz. After bout 20 seconds, tha screen again twisted n' flossed a single frame photo.
Da editor was reluctant ta go back, our crazy asses all was yo, but he knew he had to. This time tha photo was dat of what tha fuck rocked up ta be a woman, no olda than tha straight-up original gangsta dude. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch was layin on her stomach, her barrettes up in a pool of blood next ta her muthafuckin ass yo. Her left eye was too popped up n' popped, naked except fo' underpants yo. Her entrails was piled on top of her above another crude cut along her back fo' realz. Again tha body was on tha street n' tha photographerz shadow was visible, straight-up similar up in size n' shape ta tha first. I had ta choke back vomit n' one intern, tha only female up in tha room, ran out. Da sheezy resumed.
Bout 5 secondz afta dis second photo played, Squidward went silent, as did all sound, like it was when dis scene started. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude put his cold-ass tentaclez down n' his wild lil' fuckin eyes was now done up in hyper realizzle like tha others was up in tha beginnin of dis episode. They was bleeding, bloodshot, n' pulsatin yo. Dude just stared all up in tha screen, as if watchin tha viewer fo' realz. After bout 10 seconds, he started sobbing, dis time not coverin his wild lil' fuckin eyes. Da sound was piercin n' loud, n' most fear inducin of all is his sobbin was mixed wit screams.
Tears n' blood was drippin down his wild lil' grill at a heavy rate. Da wind sound came back, n' so did tha deep voiced laughing, n' dis time tha still photo lasted fo' a phat 5 frames.
Da animator was able ta quit it on tha 4th n' backed up. This time tha photo waz of a funky-ass dude, bout tha same stupid-ass age yo, but dis time tha scene was different. Da entrails was just bein pulled up from a stomach wound by a big-ass hand, tha muthafuckin right eye popped n' dangling, blood tricklin down dat shit. Da animator proceeded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It was hard ta believe yo, but tha next one was different but our crazy asses couldn't tell what tha fuck yo. Dude went on ta tha next, same stupid-ass thang yo. Dude want back ta tha straight-up original gangsta n' played em quicker n' I lost dat shit. I vomited on tha floor, tha animatin n' sound editors gaspin all up in tha screen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da 5 frames was not as if they was 5 different photos, they was played up as if they was frames from a vizzle. Our thugged-out asses saw tha hand slowly lift up tha guts, our crazy asses saw tha ppl eyes focus on it, our crazy asses even saw two framez of tha dude beginnin ta blink.
Da lead sound editor busted some lyrics ta our asses ta stop, he had ta booty-call up in tha creator ta peep this. Mista Muthafuckin yo. Hillenburg arrived within bout 15 minutes yo. Dude was trippin as ta why he was called down there, so tha editor just continued tha episode. Once tha few frames was shown, all screaming, all sound again stopped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Squidward was just starin all up in tha viewer, full frame of tha face, fo' bout 3 seconds. Da blasted quickly panned up n' dat deep voice holla'd "DO IT" n' our crazy asses peep up in Squidwardz handz a shotgun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude immediately puts tha glock up in his crazy-ass grill n' pulls tha trigger. Realistic blood n' dome matter splattas tha wall behind him, n' his bed, n' he flies back wit tha force. Da last 5 secondz of dis episode sheezy his body on tha bed, on his side, one eye danglin on whatz left of his head above tha floor, starin blankly at dat shit. Then tha episode ends.
Mista Muthafuckin yo. Hillenburg is obviously supa pissed at dis yo. Dude demanded ta know what tha fuck tha heck was goin on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Most gangstas left tha room at dis point, so it was just a handful of our asses ta watch it again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Viewin tha episode twice only served ta imprint tha entirety of it up in mah mind n' cause mah crazy ass wack nightmares. I be sorry I stayed.
Da only theory our crazy asses could be thinkin of was tha file was edited by some muthafucka up in tha chain from tha drawin studio ta here. Da CTO was called up in ta analyze when it happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da analysiz of tha file did sheezy it was edited over by freshly smoked up material. But fuck dat shizzle yo, tha word on tha street is dat tha timestamp of it was a mere 24 secondz before our crazy asses fuckin started viewin it fo' realz. All shiznit involved was examined fo' foreign software n' hardware as well as glitches, as if tha time stamp may have glitched n' flossed tha wrong time yo, but every last muthafuckin thang checked up fine. Our thugged-out asses don't give a fuck what tha fuck happened n' ta dis dizzle no muthafucka do.
There was a investigation cuz of tha nature of tha photos yo, but not a god damn thang came of dat shit. No lil pimp peeped was identified n' no clues was gathered from tha data involved nor physical clues up in tha photos. I never believed up in unexplainable phenomena before yo, but now dat I have somethang happen n' can't prove anythang bout it beyond anecdotal evidence, I be thinkin twice bout thangs.
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