The Skeleton that Came out of the Closet

You: I, uh, don't think this one will fit in with the rest of the Trollpasta wiki.

Me: Why not?

You: Because it's a trollpasta wiki! Gah ha!

But seriously tho. It's not one of those furry fan-fucks we're all so used to. It's barely even a trollpasta at all, but just because it says Trollpasta or Trollpasta wiki every other sentence, here you go. You know, while writing this, something very important dawned on me, something that could be the bane of my existence on this site, something I can deny no longer!

I really suck at writing creepypasta. I mean, just look at Mostly Harmless. I think this is a lot better because I'm trying to be funny and random, which I can handle a lot better than being scary. Anyway, I also recommend familiarizing yourself with the wiki first, otherwise some of the jokes won't make sense. Maybe that will make up for the rest of the story not making sense.

It was another tedious day at work for Harry. He sat in his usual hiding place, phone in hand, waiting for someone to write a cliché pasta where he could pop out. This was stupid. Why did he have to take the night shift alone? Was the Trollpasta Wiki really too cheap to hire more skeletons? Shouldn't the revenue from Sonic.exe be enough for more workers? As he contemplated this, he received a notification: "'TEH LOZT FROZEN CLIPP' has just been written! Get to it!" He sighed heavily and said to himself, "Again with this shit." He didn't want to leave, he had plenty of warmth among the shirts and pants hanging up, and the kid who owned the closet wouldn't be back for another few hours. Well, someone had to do it, so it might as well be him. The message turned to, "Ready to be transported?" with an option of yes or no. "Do I have any other choice?", he thought, and pushed yes. His Aperture Science phone then turned into a green vortex. He jumped in, and was taken inside the Internet.

What did it look like? Well, that's impossible to say. Everyone looks at the Internet differently. For Harry, it was an endless void of dead white. No color, no variety whatsoever. He didn't walk, but rather flew through this world as if in space, but with a little more air. Rectangles floated around, leading to every website to ever exist. Eventually he saw EVIL PATRIXXXX on one and flew into it. However, he got stuck trying to get through. "It lagged out," Harry thought aloud. "Good." Seeing how he relied on AT&T for service, it wasn't any surprise. A strangely familiar voice said, "It looks like you're stuck. Would you like some help?" Harry responded, "Go away, Clippy. I'm not in the mood for jokes." Clippy started to rant about how much everyone hated him, but at that point the connection improved and Harry fell through the window. After getting up, he looked at his watch, but then realized that he didn't have one. He guessed that he was late, so he flew at ludicrous speed to the pasta he needed to go to.

Unlike the Internet, which changed depending on the viewer, the Trollpasta Wiki, along with all other web sites, stayed the same every time. It was a rather elegantly decorated hallway, probably out of irony. The carpet was similar to conventional light gray home carpeting, but it had an unnatural thickness, at least 3 inches. The curtains that hung on either side were blue-green with the occasional silver streak, which always stayed shining. Despite everything, Harry had the feeling that he should slow down and relax. Is that why the hallway was made like this? To calm anyone that passed through before they enrage themselves with shitty stories?

On either side were doors leading to the settings of the pastas, each decorated differently to represent the story being told. Blood Whistle was grey with a blue border, wearing the trademark item from which it got its name, but the broken hinges and chipped away side implied that it could have been slammed a few times out of frustration, maybe from writer's block. Sanic.exe was an ordinary wooden door with a poster of its mascot, in its true MS Paint glory. Around the picture seemed to be signatures, such as "OMG UR SO FUNY!" and "What the fuck, man.", as if Sanic was an actual person. Shrek is Love was green with a few onions glued onto it, obviously made in a minute or two. He flew all the way to the end of the hall, where the story was supposed to be. Since it was a work in progress, the door was completely blank with "TEH LOZT FROZEN CLIPP" written in black marker, and it was much unlike Kyle's handwriting... Sorry, wrong story. Harry opened this door and saw the setting of Frozen sprawl out before him. He used his GPS app to find his proper place in the story. For this time, it was inside the castle after it had been, well, Frozen.

However, he flew there so fast that he got to the story early. He was actually scheduled to come at the end, but no one told him. No! Why should they tell their workers when their cameo makes absolutely no sense? After crashing into the narrator and nearly killing him about a fourth of the way through the story, he got a text. It said, "You maniac! You fucked it up! Get back to HQ now!" "Oh no, I really pissed off the boss this time," thought Harry. He extended his right hand towards the sky like Iron Man or something, flew about 2,000 feet in the air, then came back down. He hit the ground with such force that he went right through like a drill. This was probably the most fun part of the job. He kept at it for about a minute until he hit a floor of white canvas and tore right through it, just like Space Jam.

Harry could have ended up anywhere in HQ. At best, he could have landed in his office. Maybe he could land in the display-making section, the HR block, or the dumpsters outside. Even that would have been better than where he did end up. He burst out of the sky, which was actually the ground, and quickly realized that he couldn't control his fall. This was, after all, his second time trying to fly. The first time he hit his tailbone on a rock, but that's another story. The ever-so-familiar pink building (the workers always insisted that it was light red) that was his workplace approached Harry. Despite everything, Harry began to think, "Can a skeleton die from falling?" That would have been the easy way out. Eventually, he decided to just risk it and crash through the ceiling.

There was a moment of pinkness. Yeah, lots of it.

There was a mighty crash.

And then, silence.

When he regained consciousness, his first thought was, "Damn these padded floors." They were installed to prevent any suicide attempts, and with good reason. The second thing to run through his mind was where he was. The walls using a .gif of a neon green lava lamp and shit-brown carpet made him fear the worst. He looked at the main attraction, strategically positioned on the owner of this madness's desk. His fears were confirmed.

He was right in the office of LOLSKELETONS.

Well, the boss did say to get back to HQ. Never did he say to report to his office. Harry slowly creeped to the door, but the boss insisted on turning around anyway. "So you did make it," said LOLSKELETONS. "Do sit down." There wasn't actually a chair in front of the desk, so Harry was forced to kneel like usual. The boss was a skeleton too, but his bones were slightly worn yellow with age. He always wore his weird straw fedora hat and tye-dye t-shirt like some kind of hippie. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Harry. Quite literally," he said, as a regular boss would.

"This is the fifty-first time that you came into a story at the wrong time. The last time someone hit fifty-two, you know what happened?" Everyone, both new and experienced, had heard about the worker whose 52 failures became the inspiration for 52 video games, all of which were also failures. "But boss, I..." "Let me finish. I assign you the most basic tasks, but you keep fucking everything up!" That was another thing Harry found strange about LOLSKELETONS. Sometimes he spoke in a formal manner, but the next sentence he would say his line like someone you would see walking down the street. "You know what this means, right?" "Now let me finish." LOLSKELETONS was probably the only boss that would let a worker interrupt him like that. "You barely tell me what to do and leave way too much room for error. The workers need direction." "Your one objective is to pop out at some point in the story. What else do you want me to say?"

At that moment, a Slenderman came into the room with a handful of papers, saying, "It's JCTheHyena again." "Another 'masterpiece'? Hasn't he run out of Sonic characters to work with yet?" Maybe Harry really didn't have the worst job. "Alright, I'll deal with you later. For now, closet for 10 minutes." "Bullshit for a lifetime!" Harry shouted back. "You know what'll happen if you don't?", the boss asked. Harry already knew, and the boss knew that he knew, because he closed the door before he could answer his own question.

The closet he hid in earlier was warm and inviting, but this one was absolutely miserable, just like the last time he was in there. He stumbled upon it accidentally when he was janitor, and he always prayed to Shrek that he wouldn't have to go back in there. Either Shrek wasn't real, or he was just an asshole, because here Harry was. For one thing, it was completely dark. There was nothing worse than a case of CSS for Harry. (No one seems to know what that is, so I'll explain: CSS=Can't See Shit.) The spikes lined both the floor and ceiling, each about a foot in height. Of course, this wasn't life-threatening for a skeleton, but it was uncomfortable. If he sat, the spikes would penetrate his pelvis, and if he stood, they would bother his feet. He briefly considered hovering above the spikes, but then an even better idea came to him.

Why not just get out? If the closet sucked so hard, why would he force himself into it? It's not like anyone held him at gunpoint. Why was he even working for this dump? He answered himself that he was only in it for the money, but then he realized something. What could he need money for? He's a skeleton! When would he ever need to eat, drink, or wear clothes? Even shelter wasn't a problem, because he hid in closets all the time, like earlier when he was looking for wi-fi. Pretty much, his job absolutely sucked, and he shouldn't have to stand for it!

He knew he had to use his head, so he turned himself on his side and slammed into the door as hard as he could. The rusted hinges came off a little too easily, and he went tumbling through the admin section. LOLSKELETONS had his own office, which was pretty much a 15-square-foot room with nothing in it except a desk, but the rest of the admin section was a room with a desk in each corner. He landed on one of these, and immediately wished that he hadn't, because out of the corner of his eye sockets, he saw a light blue flame begin to form. Harry turned his head toward the source, and his jawbone nearly hit the floor. "GodzillaFan?" "Harry? It's been ages!"

He couldn't believe it, but it seemed to be so, because here he was, in the same rubber Godzilla suit he had been in all those years ago. The two of them first met in a match of Doom, where GodzillaFan gave him a job at the Trollpasta Wiki for no reason. "I know! How's it going?" "I've been great and you're sitting on the keyboard!" He accidentally pressed enter as he tried to get off, and GodzillaFan's reason for editing the article was now " UnfunJshshxkvJzjhgaibgzghabaozngao bdhqkzbshakxbwhzjxbwhzjd ajxbsjadbwhs". "Oh shit. Sorry about that." "Nah, it's fine. So what brings you out here? Didn't they assign you closet duty or something?" "Yeah, they did, but I messed up and now the boss is raising a huge shit storm." "I thought I was the boss." Harry tried to smile at that, but he was, again, a skeleton, and it didn't really show. "No, your wallpaper isn't a .gif. You gotta have the .gif." "That's true. I should get back to work, so I'll have to temp ban you." He started typing on his screen, "Ban HarryS from Admin Section for 30 min." Despite how many times he had been told what HarryS sounded like, Harry still chuckled a little when he saw that. "And remember, Harry: You're only as good as you allow yourself to be." Harry must have looked astonished, because GodzillaFan explained, "I've been snorting a lot of chalk dust lately. It writes the answers all over your brain."

Before he knew how he felt about that one, a hammer very similar to the Eekhammer from Paper Mario: Sticker Star came down from the ceiling, attached to a complicated mess of pulleys and all that. The ban hammer was nothing new, but he still was surprised when it literally sent his ass flying. The rest of his body crumpled in a heap as its owner complained, "Dumbass, you aimed it wrong!" The ninja that controlled the ban hammer (as well as the ban sickle) descended from the ceiling and picked up Harry. In a silent but deadly voice, he asked, "Where to?" Harry thought for a second, and said, "Take me to LOLSKELETONS, and use the most back-ass route you can." The ninja opted for the classic air duct, but because of how glitched up the air conditioning was (the heating always worked fine, though), he nearly suffocated before he dropped Harry, piece by piece, into the conveniently-placed chair. Before he became known, something very quickly crossed his mind. Why the hell did he want to get dropped here? Didn't he know what the boss could do? He decided to find out for himself. No more games. No remorse. Now or never. Fight fire with fire. Kill 2 stones with one bird. Smoke weed everyday. Enough one-liners. For real.

As Harry pulled himself together, the boss said sarcastically, "Nice entrance. I'd give you a promotion if that was your job, but it isn't, now, is it?" When Harry had assembled an arm, he poked his head over the desk. "You left this," he said as Harry got his ass handed to him. (I know, these puns are insufferable.) He took his pelvis in silence and built the rest of his body. "Aren't you supposed to be in the closet?", the boss asked, leading up to the joke we're all expecting by this point. "I left it." "So you came out of the closet?" "Yes, I came out of the closet. The closet of misery that perfectly..." Harry stopped to notice that LOLSKELETONS was struggling to control his laughter. "Oh wow, that really came out wrong!", Harry said as he laughed with him. They kept at it for about 5 minutes until neither of them remembered what was so funny in the first place. "Say, why was I here?", asked Harry. LOLSKELETONS, seeing the chance he had, innocently answered, "I don't know." "Well, in that case, see you around, boss." "Have a great day."

The ninja was waiting for Harry just outside the door. In a not-quite-as-silent-but-a-hell-of-a-lot-deadlier voice, he asked, "So, how did it go?" "How did what go?" "Your confrontation? Isn't that why I dropped you in his office?" The imaginary sound of shattering glass echoed through Harry's skull as he stopped in shock. He stormed back through the door, saying, "Hey, what the hell?" The boss, now beginning a game of solitaire,  nonchalantly said, "You made that way too easy." "I'm not supposed to be here and you're supposed to be scared because I'm about to screw over the Trollpasta Wiki!" "That sounds interesting. Tell me about that." Tympup A played somewhere off in the distance as Harry stood, speechless, and very fucking pissed.

He hadn't even made his point, and everything he said was being fired right back at him like a tennis ball. He absolutely sucked at tennis (especially when there was no ball and his head was used instead (that happened in almost every sport he played (nested parentheses, how you like? (I don't like it.)))), so all he could do was stammer, until, by some coincidence, words formed. Much speculation was needed, but recent skeptics (for some reason, they tolerated this story long enough to be curious()) have figured that something like this came out: "You're gonna get raped with a porcupine!" As Harry stormed out the door again, he shouted behind him, "Good luck, douchebag!" His new ninja friend waited right where he had left him. It was hard to tell because of the mask he had on, but Harry had seen the expression in his eyes before. It was a combination of shock, concern, and confusion. The last time someone gave him that look, his funny bone was sticking out... His words confirmed more than his eyes. "What the hell was that about?" "Yeah, I think I need to work on my speaking ability. That's never been one of my strong points."

Of all the things I hate about this story, this is the one thing that tops everything else: it's unfinished. I simply don't know where to go with the plot. Should Harry build a huge army of idiots and create an epic fight scene? Should he train with the communist ninja and assassinate LOLSKELETONS, in true assassin fashion? I don't know. Can anyone give me ideas? Below are some notes I took while my friend looked it over (thanks again, Joey), but I still have no clue.

Secret agent for KGB, Harry has a virtual reality costume thru aperture science phone, takes over whole electric grid for no reason, programs a dog, trains with communist ninja, accidentally got government on his tail, takes over trollpasta, then world,

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