Peanuts

You are at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. You just topped off your gas tank, and are walking into the shop to pay.

A kindly-looking clerk peers at you over the counter through his small, round glasses as you enter. You're feeling peckish, so you look around for something nice to snack on while you continue driving to wherever the hell you were going. Things aren't so clear when you are at a gas station on the edge of reality. 

You aren't in the mood for the colourful packets of chips lined up on the shelves. You aren't in the mood for candy bars with their screaming taglines and pastel logos. 

You're in the mood for peanuts. Salted, or coated in caramel. You never combine the two. To do so would be unwise. Your stomach growls just looking at the long, thin packets of salted peanuts. You grab one. Okay, you grab two. Three.

You bring your four packets of peanuts to the counter.

You exchange your money for the goods, and turn around to leave, when it hits you. Nothing is preventing you from opening one of the packets right now, and eating some right here. No one would stop you. The clerk notices your heistation.

"Don't worry, you can eat in here."

You don't waste a second. You rip open the top of the packet, and open your mouth wide as you tilt it. The legumes fall out, and you barely chew them before swallowing. Oh god, these are some good  peanuts.

The packet is empty, and so are you. You stare off into space. The clerk smiles at you. You drop to your knees and hands, and vomit black sludge on the clean tiles of the gas station shop. You look up, teary eyed, at the clerk who is smiling inhumanly wide right now.

"Close your eyes. Dream."

Everything goes black as your head hits the tiles with a loud thud.


You open your eyes to a blindingly white void. You hold your hands out in front of your face, and see that they are covered and dripping with a thin, watery black liquid. Once your eyes are adjusted to the sheer brightness of the white void, you notice a small speck in the distance. Without thinking, you walk towards it.

You walk close enough to better make out just what the figure in the distance is. It appears to be a purple-robed humanoid. You shout out towards them.

"Hey! You!"

You get no answer, but the robed figure starts shuffling in your direction. You start walking again, hoping to get some answers as to where you are and WHY you are here.

You meet up with the figure. Two glowing white eyes leer out through the complete darkness that is their face. You shudder as they seem to pierce right through you, into your soul and possibly your pancreas.

"Who are you? What is this pla-"

The figure holds up its arm, stopping you midsentence. A deep, rumbling voice emits from under the cowl.

"Come."

The being turns around, and motions for you to follow.

You hesitatingly follow, into the vast nothingness. You and the entity walk for hours, and eventually you forget how you got here. You realize that you don't even own a car. Why would you be at that gas station? You can't remember. You can't even remember what you were doing BEFORE you ended up buying those snacks.

You notice the bright nothingness slowly gets darker and darker, the longer you walk. By this point, the void is almost entirely gray.

Eventually, the entity stops. It holds up one of its arms, and motions for you to kneel. You do so.
It motions for you to take off your shirt. You do so. It presses its hands against your bare shoulders, and you scream out in agony as a blistering pain radiates through your body.

When the entity removes its hands, you notice strange sigils have been burned into your flesh, marking you forever.

"Stand up."

You stand up, still wobbling from the pain. The being reaches into its robe, and pulls out a small vial of the most pure blue liquid you have ever seen. It dips a small, thin paintbrush into the vial, and starts drawing various markings on your torso. You nervously stare forwards, trying your best not to move too much or disturb the being currently painting your skin.

When you eventually look down, the being has disappeared. You are alone in the void once again, this time minus shirt and plus forbidden glyphs. You once again spot something in the distance. This time, you don't waste a second running towards it, hoping it might be an exit out of this place.

You get close enough to recognize the shape as that of a door. You don't even care if it leads you to a place even worse or if it leads you to your home, where you can just jump in bed and sleep until you forget all the events of today.

You open the door. Behind it stands Peanut. You close the door, and weep. When you open your eyes, Peanut is with you. You weep harder. Peanut weeps with you, not making a sound.

You look at Peanut, your eyes foggy from the river of black liquid flowing out of them. Peanut's shell is cracked by the ravages of time, and purple ichor seeps out from it's wounds.

Peanut reaches it's cane out towards you. You bawl like you have never bawled before. It touches your forehead, and you let out a gurgling scream as you feel your lungs fill with thick purple ichor. It seeps out from your wide-open mouth, flowing down your chin and forming a large puddle on the ground. Your mind is filled with images of the darkest reaches of this universe. Your vision zooms out, revealing the universe to be shaped like a peanut. You smash your fist into the floor until it starts bleeding.

You close your eyes in fear of what Peanut will do next. You clench them shut for what seems like hours as your mind continues showing you visions of every dark corner of the hideous nightmare you call reality.

When you open them, you are alone again. You are lying on the floor of a gas station bathroom, in a puddle of your own vomit. Your head hurts.

You get up and shuffle towards the shop. It's dark now, yet the door is unlocked. The clerk is nowhere to be seen.

It's only at home, when you finally take a shower, that you see the glyphs on your shoulders.

Spongebob JUMPED THE SHARK after the first movie happened, and here's why

We all love Spongebob Squarepants, the wackiest cartoon out there. It's been with us since July 17, 1999. However, after the first movie got released, the show took a massive dive in quality and we, the fans, started abandoning The Sponge. Here is a list of a few reasons why everyone knows that this lovely cartoon started jumping the shark.

• Spongebob legally changed his name to "Marijuanabob Weedpants" (Seriously, Nickelodeon? KIDS SHOW!)
• Spongebob stopped wearing pants and dragged his malformed dick around the screen at all times
• Patrick got laid
• Mr. Krabs joined the church of scientology
• Spongebob's grandparents died, resulting in the events that would end up causing The Splinter to air
• Plankton stole the secret formula, and used it to rewrite history in a way that did not result in the birth of Eugene Krabs, therefore destroying all competition
• Season 6, episode 5 where there was an unneeded censor bar over Squidward's nose at all times 
• Sandy learned the secrets of the cosmos and ascended to a higher plane of existence
• Plankton joined the army and died for his country
• That episode where squidward grew a toenail for the sole purpose of it being painfully removed through Spongebob's antics
• Theme song got changed to Sail by AWOLNATION, reversed
• Patrick received whispers from the darkness during one of his DMT experiences and proceeded to change his behavior to that of a huge jerk
• The entire cast of Fairly Oddparents came to bikini bottom for a vacation, set everything on fire, and left
• Squidward became anatomically correct
• Spongebob grew eyeballs on his two regular arms 
• Patrick deep-fried his face and served himself to hungry customers, chanting "Eat The Starfish" until the customers joined in
• An average human male named Jim started living in Sandy's treedome after her ascension
• Spongebob insisted that everyone called him The Sponge instead of his actual name
• Squidward took up pro wrestling 
• Bubble Bass died
• Squilliam Fancyson sold his own genitals for seven dollars and five cents
• The second movie's ending song got changed (They wanted to do Ocean Man again at first, but settled on Waving My Dick In The Wind instead.)
• Spongebob grew ten extra arms on his ass after losing both his legs in an industrial accident
• Spongebob lost his face's eyeballs, opting instead to see through his hands 
• After a failed ritual to bring Sandy back, Jim, Sandy, Squidward and Mr. Krabs got fused into The Meat
• Squidward joined the freemasons
• Spongebob stopped hanging out with The Meat around season 9... seriously, what a jerk! This is not the loveable sponge we used to know!
• Secret morse code hidden in all of the dialogue about mr krabs' disappearance, spelling out "SAVE THE CRAB"

Clown Café

"Table for One."


You walk into the fine dining establishment known as Clown Café. A bored teenager who undoubtedly gets paid too little to care guides you to your table. It's right across the open kitchen, where you can see the oddly-dressed chefs running around, preparing various dubious ingredients for their unspeakable dishes.

You sit down on a whoopee cushion, and realize that it is going to be a long evening.

A man in bright orange pants and a polka dot bow-tie walks up to you, and introduces himself as Jeremy, your waiter for today. He's wearing a fake smile and his eyes reveal a hint of sadness.

He hands you a menu booklet. You flick through it, noting various horrid dish names like "Liar Liar Pants In The Fryer" and "Honk Bites". You sigh loudly, and want to ask for some advice on the menu when you note that Jeremy has wandered off already,

You look around you for the time being. At the table next to you, a nervous, rotund young man is enjoying a plate of fries, while fiddling with his keychain. You've seen him before.

Where?

You don't have time to ponder. Jeremy returns to your table, and asks you what you'd like to drink. You order a jar of clown juice. You do not know what clown juice is. It was the only thing on the drinks menu.

Jeremy gives you a wink. You nervously wink back. You stare off into the open kitchen as Jeremy runs off to fix you your beverage. Fitting with this part of town, you see various clowns in various clownosity tiers running around, chopping vegetables. You also see beings shuffling around, clad in yellow robes and wearing metal masks. They silently scan the crowd, and check on the various pots and pans. You can hear their laboured breathing.

This is not a surprise. Wherever clowns are, the horrid Mimepriests are sure to follow.

 Jeremy returns to your table. He's carrying a large, ornately decorated urn. When he puts it on the table, you peer over its edge and see a bright green swill softly bubbling inside it.

You nervously pour some into your glass. The liquid seems to react with the thin layer of water at the bottom of your glass that wasn't quite as clean as you'd have hoped. A soft hissing sound is heard as smoke rises up from your glass, until it suddenly stops after around six seconds.

Jeremy looks at you expectantly.

You raise the glass to your lips, and take a sip. Immediately, every mimepriest in the kitchen turns their head to stare at you through those dark holes in their metal masks.

It tastes like bitter strawberries, and you have considerable trouble choking the gunk down. Once you've finished your glass, you notice a faint honking sound in the back of your mind. Was it always there?

You shudder. You grab the menu again, and feel a little more relaxed now that you know that the clown juice wasn't pure poison. At least, you think that's what's making you feel more relaxed.

You order today's "Surprise" menu. You tell Jeremy you are allergic to peanuts. He says he knows. He winks at you. You don't wink back this time.

Jeremy shouts something to the kitchen staff. Immediately, they start howling and screaming, running around clanging pans together and generally making a fucking mess. A blue-level clown puts his cutting board on a wall and starts chopping up his own fingers. A red-level slips on some steak drip and smashes his head in against a stove, and is quickly whisked away by a mimepriest.

Eventually, a permaclown manager comes into the kitchen, shoes squeaking on the almost sterile floor. He lets out a loud, pained wail that seems to reverberate in your skull, and the clowns change their behaviour. They start to actually cook stuff instead of vomiting black sludge into the sink.

A loud honk is heard, and Jeremy quickly walks up to your table, carrying a bowl of... nothing.

"Bon appetit."

You look at the bowl, and then look back at Jeremy. You notice that Jeremy is crying.

"Excuse me, Jeremy... what is this?"

"Mime soup."

"There's nothing in the bowl."

"Yes. Eat."

You nervously bring your spoon down into the bowl, and scoop up a nice spoonful of nothing. You bring it to your lips, and carefully sip up the mimesoup. You open your eyes after some time, and note that Jeremy has left.

You waste no time in grabbing the bowl and emptying it in a nearby potted plant.

After a couple of minutes of watching the clowns at work, Jeremy returns, this time carrying a plate with a large ribeye steak on it.

After some scepticism, you slice off a chunk and pop it in your mouth. It's... It's...

It's alright, you guess. I mean, it's hard to fuck up a good cut of meat like this. Maybe a little underseasoned. Perfectly acceptable, though. You are already confused as to what kind of review you should give this restaurant on yelp.

The young man at the table next to you has stood up, and walks over to your table. He leans down, and hisses the phrase "Remember the Rancid Aeon" in your ear.

Everything goes black, and the last thing you feel is your mashed potatoes, which you have just smashed your forehead into.

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is overwhelming pain in your chest. Your eyes are open, yet you see everything through a blood-red fog. You look down at your chest. A large chef's knife is embedded in it.

You look at your left hand. A peculiar mark that you don't remember ever getting is burned into the flesh of your palm. It is a stylized mask with a large crack through the left eye.

You look at your right hand. You are clutching a large CZ805 BREN, with an empty magazine.

You finally look infront of you, and note that everything has gone silent, except for the shell casing loudly bouncing on the tiles below you.

You are standing in a blood-smeared kitchen, surrounded by corpses. You are wearing a smooth, white mask. Behind your eyeholes, nothing resembling human eyes would ever be found by anyone, ever again.