The Real Grifter: Difference between revisions
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{{NSFW}}
I heard the stories; we all have. "The Grifter is some sick shit, yo! It will drive you insane!" I just wish I had listened. I would not be in this padded cell in some city in a country I haven't even heard of, with the dude in the cell next to me saying, "I'm the holder of my cock!" every night.
I was in a shitty flea market in western Indiana when I found it: a really dusty VHS that said "The Grifter" on a cheap label. I asked the shopkeep the price, and he replied, "Tree fiddy." I was about to argue, since this was an obvious bootleg, and VHS tapes these days shouldn't cost more than fifty cents; when I realized that there was some strange, almost Jurassic quality flashing in this shopkeep's eyes. I said, "Fuck it. Here." After I paid him, I drove back to my house to watch it. Here my problems started.
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I realized that I haven't had a goddamned VCR in 11 years, so I called my friends. Only one had one, and he was too busy jacking it to furry porn to let me come get it. After I hung up, wondering why I was friends with him in the first place, I decided to go to Walmart. I searched the electronics section for a VCR to no avail. I asked the store clerk if they had any. He looked at me like I was stupid, and said, "Sure. We keep them next to the dodo eggs and whale oil. Can I also interest you in a state of the art butter churn?"
After I had flipped him off and bitched to his manager, who promptly told me to, quote unquote, leave the store you fucking
I finally went back to the flea market where I bought the fucking tape in the first place, and asked the same dickhead who had sold me the VHS if he had a VCR. To my delight, he said he did. I asked the price, and about shit when he told me: Six hundred fucking dollars. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" "No," he replied. "Do you have any idea how hard these things are to find?" I had been saving up for a new PS4, so I had the cash, but I was still pissed at this turn of events.
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Curiosity won out though, so I bought the ridiculously overpriced VCR. "No returns!" the shopkeeper yelled as I left. I paid him no attention. I was about to see the holy grail of /x/.It was finally lining up. Cthulhu had ftagned long enough.
I set everything up, and popped in the VHS. I saw the words, "The Grifter" in a spooky font. Then I heard a strange marimba beat start. The shopkeeper from the flea market appeared, and he started singing:
<poem><i>
I don suffer, no be small
Upon say I get sense
Poverty no good at all, no
Na him make I join this business
Everybody dey play am
If anybody fall mugu,
419 is just a game
Na me be the master oh
When Oyinbo play wayo
Dem go say na new style
Them go dey shout
Bring am, kill am, die!
I don't see them tire
I dey show them fire
419 is just a game
Na me be the master oh
I don suffer, no be small
Upon say I get sense
Poverty no good at all, no
Na him make I join this business
419 no be thief, it's just a game
Everybody dey play am
If anybody fall mugu,
Ha, my brother I go chop am.
</i></poem>
Then it turned into a gay scat porn. I was so fucking pissed off, I blacked out. When I came to, I was in a padded room. They said I had started attacking random people with a hammer, and I was screaming, "WHO WAS PHONE MOTHERFUCKERS?! I'LL MAKE YOUR GODDAMNED SKELETONS JUMP OUT!"
Well, this fucking sucks.
== Moral of the story ==
Fuck outdated video formats. Also, don't trust whitey.
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