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Posted by CandleClock on: 07:50 AM, 05/16/20
I only made this post because the old Tortellini forum is finally dead, and I don't want some of the stories lost forever. This thread is dedicated to the best writer on both MONOLITH and TT - Nolove. Enjoy!

The Elephant

Me and Angie had been best friends for as long as I can remember. That all changed one day.

Everyone always thought we were lovers, but it really wasn't the case. I guess it only added fuel to the fire when we decided to go travelling to Africa together for four months. She'd spent some time there when she was young, and I wanted to see more of the world, so it made sense.

The first three months went great. We spent every day helping the local kids. The other English guys over there loved us both. The kids thought we were great, Angie especially.

First morning into the fourth month, I woke up to the most horrifying sight I'd ever seen. Dead kids, broken bones, blood everywhere. Trampled to death.

'Angie, I don't believe this.' I said.

'HAROOOOOOOMPPPPHHHH,' said Angie.

As you dedicated a forum to me, I thought I would pay you back by giving you the other stories that you missed. It includes the rare 'return of Angie' story. It's up to Vaughn what is done with them...I guess they might be deleted, or added to the Classics...but I hope you enjoy.

Don't Lie

The last two humans on Earth sat eating by a faintly flickering fire, its crackles and their chewing the only things breaking the silence.

The man gave his young son a smile.

'It's Friday today Danny! You know what that means...'

The boy nodded.

'Chocolate day.'

The man patted his son on the head, and went to fetch the last remaining chocolate bar.

'Danny!'

'Yes Dad?'

'Did you eat that chocolate? It's gone!'

The father stormed into view of his son, who looked terrified.

'N-no! I swear!'

'You had better not be lying to me!'

'I'm not!'

'I'm serious, Danny! It's just us! Bad things will happen if we can't trust each other!'

'I promise!'

The man looked at his son, and believed him.

'OK...OK, I'm sorry, Dan. Look, I'm going to look for some more supplies. I'll be back in an hour or so.'

The young boy nodded. As his father left, he uncomfortably shifted around, and removed a chocolate wrapper from his pocket, and scrambled around to bury it in the ground. Panic over.

Then, Danny heard the most terrifying sound he had ever heard.

'I thought your father told you not to tell lies?'



BananaCorn Goes To Jail

They led the no-good tryhard towards his cell.

'Please!' he whimpered. 'Give me one more chance!'

The jury looked at him with pity. But it was for the best.

The guard led Bananacorn down a staircase, his face stony; a direct contrast with Bananacorn's sweating features. Finally, they reached the cell.

'We don't have no specific cells for tryhards here, so you'll be sharing with a murderer,' said the guard.

'W-what?!'

'Meet your new cellmate!'

Bananacorn stared at the other occupant in the cell with a look of absolute horror.

'HAROOOOOOMPH!' said Angie.


The Stupidest Town In The World

Year 2014.

The idiots were slobbering around as usual, playing with each other beautifully, some people would think it was adorable; others thought it was just plain retarded.

'Sarah, Sarah, let's play with this toy!' said the man happily.

'No, no!' said Sarah. 'That toy is dangerous!!'

'No it's not! Look, watch!'

'No! Let me do it!' Sarah laughed.

She grabbed it from him, and pressed the button with a grin on her face.

In Moscow, 5000 miles away, the first bomb fell.


The Man In Red...aka The Devil

Here is a riddle which may creep you out a bit.

The Man in Red ate his dinner...with a fork.

The Man in Red killed a man.

The Man in Red made a deal with a bad human.

The Man in Red is a fallen angel.

The Man in Red is God's enemy.

The Man in Red is inside each and every one of us.

Can you guess who I'm referring to?


The Disco Of Death

'Woooo!' screamed Rosie. She was having fun, this had been the most fun disco she had been to in a long time.

'Wahhhh!' shouted Henry. He was also having fun.

The DJ looked down at Rosie and Henry having fun and dancing with jealousy. He had a girlfriend once. He shrugged his shoulders, and lined up the next song.

'OK everyone, let's get dancing for this one! And it's time to get close with your nearest and dearest, this is a slow one! Let's dim the lights...'

The lights went so dim that Rosie and Henry could hardly see each other.

The slow music kept playing, and the room went darker and darker.

'Wahhhh!'

Rosie and Henry never had fun again.

The music continued to play, as the DJ slinked out of the venue without a trace. The bloody knife in his hand glistened in the moonlight.


The Party Near An Electric Chair

This is based on a dream I had. I am well aware that the story makes no sense, but I wanted to share it with you guys in it's purest format. I couldnt remember the name of the main guy in the dream so I made one up.

Everyone had turned up to Hoffham MacRedpoor's 19th birthday. Jimmy was there, Sally was late, but that didn't matter, Julie and Gerald had both arrived on time.

'Thanks for all coming. As you know, my Dad works for the prisons and he got me something pretty cool for my birthday!' said Hoffham to his friends.

'What is it?' asked Julie.

'An electric chair!'

'Wow!' said Jimmy.

Hoffham got all of his friends to sit on the chair.

'Here, I'll take a picture of you all!' said Hoffham.

They all smiled. For the last time. Hoffham dropped the camera, and quickly pulled a lever, electrocuting his friends. They died instantly.

'That'll teach you guys to bully me at school.'

There was a knock at the door. It was Sally. He let her in, but she had an odd look on her face.

'What's wrong Sally?' Hoffham asked.

'This is for killing my friends,' she said, and she shot him dead.

Sally clambered into the chair alongside her friends, and pulled the lever.


The Slug Who Lost His Mind

The slug squished along the ground, slowly, pointlessly.

He eyed the snail across the street jealously. If only he'd had a shell like that to protect him, when the demons had came a-knocking.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a shell. And now he was haunted day by day. The ghost of his stupid slug mother, too dumb to get a job in the slime industry. His dead slug dad, killed by some kid with salt.

But the most haunting image was the one of his own corpse. It seemed oddly unsluglike.

Meanwhile in reality, the child's fever was not getting any better. He would not wake up as his concerned parents looked on. His mother wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, forming a glistening trail, not unlike that of one of a slug.


In The Name Of The Father

The man closed his eyes as the pain became more intense. It would be OK, he told himself.

The pain intensified. It felt like someone had placed needles in a furnace and pushed them into his arms and hands. It would all be OK, he knew the truth.

Finally, he gave in. They checked his body.

'Yes, he's dead.'

'OK, good work everyone. Who do we have next from the mental institute?'

The men went back to checking their lists, for the next person who would hang from the giant cross behind them.



The Ghost Who Came To Life

The ghost floated along, floating along happily.

He floated even more happily, until suddenly, he felt very sad.

'I used to be alive.'

Suddenly, a genie appeared.

'I will give you one wish, ghost.'

'Only one?' he replied. 'Don't genies usually grant three wishes?'

'Yes, but you are dead. You only get one.'

'OK, fine.'

The ghost thought long and hard for a second.

'I want to come back to life, and be immortal.'

'Your wish is my command.'

The genie brought the ghost back to life, and then disappeared.

The ghost was now human again. In a coffin underground. Trapped.


The Dead Rapper

Yo,

Yo, yo, yo.

Naw, I ain't alive.
But I'm still rappin'
Take a seat
And I'll you what's happenin'

Guy comes up,
Pulls a gun
Aimed it at my head
It wasn't fun

Yo,

Yo, yo, yo.

Some called me
A rapping masta
Now I'm writin'
Creepypasta
From beyond the grave
While you are at a rave

Guess what? The twist is coming at you like an attack
I'm still alive- and my name's 2pac.
Suffocating Relationship
My first pasta...be kind :3:

I've been lying here for a few days now. She broke up with me, and I can't move.

We'd been arguing for a while. My paranoia had always been a problem, and when I saw her getting out of a guy's car the other day, it all blew up. She was screaming, saying I was suffocating her by being so needy, I wasn't the person she thought I was; all of the usual things. But it seemed different this time. She seemed like she hated me.

It turned out it was just an old schoolfriend of hers that she was meeting to talk about old times, but my accusations were the final straw for her. She packed a few of her things, called her sister to tell her she was coming over, and left without another word.

The next few days were a bit of a blur. I'm lying here, wondering whether I'll ever be able to go and get that drink of water that I so desperately want.

Wondering whether she'll come back and dig me up.

Monkey Infinity

You may have heard the old theory about 'an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters could type the complete works of Shakespeare'.

Well, here's the part you probably haven't heard. Someone actually tried to do this.

Danish scientist Lars Hansen took this theory very seriously- as luck would have it, his job was Monkey Cloner at the University of Copenhagen. He had spent the last few days just cloning monkeys non-stop, knowing that Monkey Infinity would soon be arriving.

'This one, it's this one!' he yelled excitedly to his assistant Noah.

'Oh my God,' said Noah, his beautiful eyes widening.

There it was, in front of them, monkey number infinity.

Then the monkeys became self-aware, and realised there were more of them than the humans. They decided that they would each kill one human, travelling around the globe, led by Monkey Infinity.

Monkey Infinity gestured towards Monkey #289994 and #9011.

'Kill,' Monkey Infinity said. And then Lars (human #289994) and Noah (human #9011) were both dead.

Monkey Infinity laughed with satisfaction, knowing that he would never have to kill anyone himself, as there was no Human Infinity.

So just remember...there's a monkey out there, with your number on it.

Red/White/Black

Red. The colour of blood; flowing around your body day after day. Until that final day.

White. The light blinds you for a few seconds as you wake up, tied to an old chair. You hear the faintest laugh, and then footsteps.

Black.

Mentally Retarded Child

The kid was retarded; there was no getting past that.

Dribble running down his face- gross. His tongue lolled around his face at weird angles. His beautiful green eyes ravaged by years of self-doubt.

Lo!

Realisation.

He just became self-aware.

And he's left the room now. Creeping...creeping towards those who made fun of him in the past. Creeping closer...and closer...and closer.

He licks the door before he enters. The bully lay there, blissfully unaware. And he stayed unaware forever more, as the hammer crushed his skull within a milisecond.

The retarded child left without a word.

Job Interview

After getting poor reviews for my first pasta, I've taken my time over this one, making sure that hints are dropped throughout for the twist ending etc. Hope this one is more satisfactory.

It had been a long few months. I was made redundant at the end of Easter, and was finally starting to get interviews again.

But this one...this one was different.

My suspicions were first aroused by the name-tag on the guy who was interviewing me.

'A. Lien'

At first I just thought it was a Chinese guy, but no, he was white.

Then they started asking me whether I would be prepared to 'relocate'. When I said 'what, to a different country?' they just laughed.

But it didn't sound like a human laugh.

It sounded alien.

But anyway, I got the job. They didn't tell me where or when I'd be starting. One night I was whisked away in the back of a van. Call me paranoid, but I could have sworn that the van didn't just travel along the road- it travelled upwards. Almost like some kind of spacecraft.

So I started work. The weird thing was, I don't remember anything about the work I was doing. It was almost like my mind was being wiped after every day, but some kind of technology not known to Earth.

The truth hit me one day, when I asked my employers 'Where on Earth am I?', emphasising the word 'Earth'.

They just laughed.

But it didn't sound like a human laugh.

If God became President, he would win every war.

If God became President, no-one would worry any more.

If God became President, the devil would be his vice-president.

What if the vice-president (the devil) convinced the President (God) to kill himself?

Then the Devil would be President.

Imagine if the Devil made God II his Vice President?

Imagine if God II managed to get the Devil to change his ways and resign, then God II would become President.

God II appoints the Devil II as his vice-president.

The cycle continues. Eventually- it all ends.

The Greatest Twist of Them All
Los Angeles, 1975.

I wasn't alive then, and I ain't never been to Los Angeles. But this is what I imagine it was like.

The rain was incessant; the tighter I tried to pull my coat around me, the more seemed to get through. The flashing neon was a welcome distraction from the pain currently rippling through my body.

They had all come to see me off- the guy who got buried alive, the guy who got abducted by aliens, angie the elephant, the goddamn emo, the dead rapper, the unhappy car, the thinker, the ugly wizard; all these legendary characters had turned out to see their creator's final stand.

And they were all smiling. Not smiles of satisfaction, but warm smiles. Comforting smiles. Angie the elephant brushed her trunk gently over his body.

He returned their smiles weakly, and felt his eyes begging to be closed.

Nothing.

The final twist is that his death was from natural causes.

RIP NoLove.

The Devil wagged his tail.

The Devil barked loudly.

The Devil growled beautifully.

The Devil chased a cat.

Suddenly, the dog became self-aware and realised he was the Devil.

And the cat that he was chasing was God.

The world imploded.

In future when you see a dog, try not to get creeped out.

The rabbit lay beautifully in the grass with a smile on his face.

Then it stopped smiling. And started to eat its own skin.

Crunch. Skin ripped off.

Squelch. Skin ripped off.

Only it wasn't a rabbit, it was your insane brother who just turned up at your house after 38 years.

And he wasn't eating his skin...

He was eating yours.

Goddamn Punk

'Hey! Hey you, you goddamn punk!'

The goddamn punk turned around.

'What do you want from me?'

'All your cash, phone, everything. Turn out your pockets.'

The goddamn punk sighed. Would these muggers never learn?

He reached into his pockets, and pulled out a gun.

'Woah! Hey...woah, man. Jesus Christ.'

The mugger stepped back in shock at the sight of the weapon.

'I'm not a goddamn punk. I'm a goddamn emo.'

The goddamn punk shot himself in the head.

The mugger tenatively kicked his body over, and stole his money, phone, and after a second's thought, took the gun.

War of Gods

The God turned to the other God.

'I am the true God,' he said.

'No,' replied the second God. 'I am the true God.'

The two fought, kicking each other beautifully, and scratching each other's God faces, and pulling each other's God beards.

They fought, and fought, and fought.

Then, a third figure entered the fray. It was The Devil.

'I AM THE TRUE GOD,' he whispered gently.

The other two Gods were too tired to put up a fight. With one stab of his fork, The Devil killed both Gods.

'There can only be one God,' breathed The Devil, 'Of nothingness.'

Then the world ended.

The Thinker

I think I'll do it again today.

I think I'll make that train crash.

I think I'll make that plane crash.

I think I'll make that bus crash.

I think I'll make that car crash.

I am God, after all.

I think.

The Hungarian Orangutan and the French Wife

The Hungarian Orangutan made his bed in the morning.

His French wife messed it up while he went to work.

The Hungarian Orangutan put his dinner in the oven.

His French wife burnt it on purpose.

The Hungarian Orangutan went to bed to try to sleep.

His French wife played loud music to keep him awake.

They were certainly a couple who had opposite views on things.

The French wife wanted to live...

*

Meanwhile in France, the police knocked on the door of a mother and father to deliver some very bad news.

'What is it, officers?'

'Your daughter has been murdered by an orangutan.'

'Oh no.' they said.

The officers left. They took off their disguises to reveal that they were in fact the Hungarian Orangutan and the French wife. They kissed on the lips.

And then there was light.

One leg came out.

One fish dead.

The second leg came out.

Two fish dead.

The third leg came out.

Three fish dead.

The fourth leg came out.

Four fish dead.

The fifth leg came out.

Five fish dead.

The sixth leg came out.

Six fish dead.

The seventh leg came out.

Seven fish dead.

The eighth leg came out.

Eight fish dead.

The ninth leg came out.

Death. Death, death, death.

Life.

The wizard's eye opened slowly, as he tried to take in his surroundings, which were fuzzily beginning to move into focus.

'I thought you weren't going to make it,' smirked the figure across the room.

'You thought wrong,' said the wizard.

The figure opposite stepped closer. His face was pale white, and he had beautiful blue eyes. He was a marked contrast to the wizard on the ground.

The wizard's face was ashen, his features were shrunken, and he had a twisted scar across his entire face.

'For all your ugliness, your powers as a wizard are second to none.'

'And for all of your nice features, you still haven't managed to become a wizard.'

The figure seemed to drink these words in, like an athlete gulping down water after a particularly tough race.

'Oh, haven't I?'

The figure sank to his knees, twisting his arms around, whispering manic incantations, and sparks began to fly around him. The wizard looked on in shock, and then pain began to course through his body.

Death.

The figure laughed with pleasure. Then, the smallest trace of a scar began to form across his face.

He walked through the bar, shaking each man by the hand.

He walked down the road, shaking each woman and child by the hand.

He entered the old people's home, shaking each old person by the hand.

He entered the children's hospital, shaking each child by the hand.

He goes home at the end of the day; smiling, satisfied with his day's work.

They'll all see him again one day. And they'll remember when they shook this hand.

Left turn.

Right turn.

Full speed ahead.

He drank too much tonight, there's no way he's totally in control of me. That fifth beer pushed him over the edge. Not drunk enough to be all over the place, but he's not in control. Maybe if he was happier, he wouldn't drink so much.

Left turn.

He glanced at his phone, and saw the time. Better get home quickly, she'll be wondering where he is.

Right turn.

He didn't see the child step out in front of him.

Full speed ahead.

I guess they'll sell me to someone else whilst he's in prison. I hope I don't make them unhappy too.

He strained...every muscle in his body seemed like it was fighting its own world war.

Reach.

Reach.

Relax.

He fell back again, unable to achieve his goal. What would it take for him to get there?!

One last push.

Reach.

Strain.

Reach!

Yes!

He did it. He reached out, and pressed.

The submit button that is. The twist is that the main character was me, making his 100th post.

The creepypasta became self-aware.

The creepypasta got on the bus.

The creepypasta got a job.

The creepypasta found a wife.

The creepypasta had creepypasta kids.

The creepypasta got old.

The creepypasta died.

It always ends the same.

BananaCorn wrote:You do realise that this entire NoLove escapade started because he couldn't take criticism for his serious stories, so he posts stupid shit to make us rage.
This is the third and final part of the 'Los Angeles Trilogy' by NoLove. I hope you've enjoyed it. I will be back with some new material very soon. I also hope to go to Los Angeles someday.

Los Angeles, 1977.

They say that birth is followed by life, which is followed by death.

But the question on NoLove's lips was: 'what follows resurrection?'

The answer came to him in a flash.

More death.

NoLove loaded up his gun, and began firing randomly. Truly, randomly.

The first shot hit a building.

The second shot hit a cow. It survived.

The third shot hit himself, full in the face.

He died. And then the sequence from Part Two happened all over again, and he was back to life.

'Looks like I'm gonna be around forever,' said NoLove, in arguably one of the most incredible twists of all-time.

The Devil sat happily in a chair.

He sat in silence, and then he sat some more. Then he decided to sell his own soul...to himself.

'How much do you want for your soul?' he asked himself.

'One thousand dollars,' he replied.

Out of nowhere came one thousand dollars. The devil had sold his soul to himself.

THIRTY EIGHT YEARS LATER

The mentally ill child sat happily in a chair.

He sat in silence, and then he sat some more. Then he decided to sell his tricycle to a kid he knew.

'How much do you want for your tricycle?' the kid asked him.

'One thousand dollars,' the mentally ill child replied.

Out of nowhere came one thousand dollars.

The mentally ill child took the money, and thought to himself.

'I'm sure I remember this happening before.'

The new child on the tricycle had a red glint in his eye, as he pedaled away.

Check out some old and new obscure stories - http://forbidden-creepypasta.tumblr.com/