{{NSFW}}
I felt like this should be shown to the public's eye. I cannot stay silent for much longer, I have to tell everyone the story of how I got violated with a barracuda when I was in highschool. It all started when I was 8.0056 years old a quarter. I was an avid fan of Tommy Wiseau, the greatest movie producer and child molester in the history of Uganda. I had all the merchandise and 6 copies of The Room, all of their cartridges were in different colors ranging for hyper realistic red to smega white. Every night before bed, I would sit on my bed and pray to the magnificent Wiseau to release a sequel of The Room but to no avail, as movie producers were too busy making crappy sentimental movies like Schindler's List instead of the tear jerking and lavish masterpiece that Tommy made when he was just an amateur graverobber. One night however, while I was praying to my idol, dad heard me because I left the door open like an idiot I was and rushed inside the room. He was obviously furious and told me that Tommy Wiseau was a bad writter and called me a "Ball o' Shite" for believing in such heresies. I jumped off the bed and taunted him saying "You're just a chicken, chip chip chip chip chip chiiiiiiiiip!". Frothed with anger, he kickslapped me across the room using the "Child Abuse Jutsu" and left the room. Lying on the flood, both mentally and sexually scarred, I started to weep in agony. After 17 seconds, I heard a pathetic temper tantrum out the window. Befuddled, I got up and checked who was making all that ruckus and to my erotic surprise, it was none other than TOMMY WISEAU! I got so excited, I almost felt like my small cock was ready to leave the room and play Planetside 2. The towering french zombie was standing before me with that same dumb yet charming smile he always had. He looked at me and asked what happened to my face and left ankle. We both sat on my bed and told him about my devotion to him and how my dad was a Silver Rank Pleb in CS:GO. Tommy laughed and said "What a story, Mark!". We chatted and laughed for a good 2 hours before my dad came back into my room and froze when he saw the tall, black haired french bastard sitting on my bed. Dad yelled and started interrogating Wiseau with questions like: "You raped my son, didn't you?! Why did you do that, you sick fudgenugget!". Tommy stood up, almost demolishing my ceiling and began shouting "I DID NOT RAPE HIM, I DID NAAAAWT!" and charged at my father with astonishing producer speed, sending my asshole of a dad flying straight to New Zealand where he got molested by the prime minister. #GETREKTANGULAR.jpg. Seven years have passed after the incident, I was taking a walk throughout the neighbourhood, being ever vigilant in case some cliche pedophile came up to me and rapeded mee. While scouting around my backyard, I heard a weird rustling noise coming from the spooky creepypasta forest behind the house and I was sure as hell it wasn't jimmies who were rustled at that hour. Curious like the idiot I was, I started asking "who de fuk rrrryaaa, ye don't have the authority to kill a minority!".A mysterious figure emerged from the bush I used to jack-off when I was 12 years old, replied: "I am your worst nightmare, you cuntscratch.".Taunted by the mysterious hooded shadowy figure, started yelling "Go back to where you came from, creature of the night!".The figure laughed and said in the most chilling and decrepit voice "Heh, you don't understand, kid. I AM THE NIGHT!". The figure proceeded to take off its cowl, making me wish I had never asked it about its whereabouts. Scared out of my brain cells, I stuttered in fear "M...M...M. Night Shyamalan!?!". "Yes,child. It is I, M.Night Shyamalan, the producer of the infamous live action movie -Vulvatar, The Last Gaygender- and I came here to collect your SOUL!". Shyamalan's eyes turned from normal to omega-realistic with a tint of period red. His arms elongated and contorted in a sickening shape resembling a perpendicular pentagram. All of his teeth turned into katana-sharp canines that were whiter than Vanilla Ice. "It cannot be! Y-y-you're actually Shyamalanath, Lord of the Abyss?! I'm so screwed, drilled, plunked and other actions revolving around construction." I thought that I was done for when someone who was the least expected appeared and shoved the beast aside. I couldn't believe my eyes! It was Shao-Khanye West! He came to rescue me from my inevitable demise. I was so happy I splooged a wee in me undies and watched as the two gods clashed, making the ground shake like that time grandma chocked on a peanut and started to spazmatically trash on the floor. Ahhh, good times! Shao-Khanye West pointed to his finger at Shyamalanath and said while holding his microphone "Yo, Shyamalan. I'm happy for you and Imma let you finish but, I actually came here to kick your ass for stealing my memes, ya dip!" and punched the demon so hard in the cock, it sent him to another dimension where he got 720hardscoped by Bruce Willis and his gang of no goodies. After Shyamalan was defeated, a strange cassette was left behind when the crappy movie director was rekt."I must leave now, I need to admire myself in the mirror and murder Kim Kardashian for being more egocentrical than me." Shao-Khanye West said before departing to Brazil. I pick up the cassette from the ground and it turned out to be a PlayStation 4 game named "Bugs Bunny's Pentagon Blowout". The name struck me odd but I eventually shrugged it off and muttered to myself "Nah, it couldn't have nay connection to the attack on the Twin Towers as 9/1 was an inside job made by G.W.Bush."and got back inside to see what this bad boy had in store for me, even though I shouldn't play games that I have found on the ground or dumpsters because it's not civilized, but I was inbred so I couldn't give a shit.I hopped on my couch and dialed my totally hot and non-blood related girlfriend to join me. She wouldn't answer the phone and that made me think she was lesbian because my uncle told me that if a woman doesn't respond to your mating calls, she's probably lesbo and should be purified with a quick one-two cunt punt. Out of boredom, instead of having a gorgeous intercourse with my girlfriend, I had a wanking competition with my grandpa. It lasted around 2 hours before the old coot passed out and that made me the daily pickle-tickle champion. After wiping the floor that was supposedly filled with jazz, I heard a knock on the door. It was no ordinary knock, mind you! It was a hyper-realistic knock that gave me the hibbie jibbies. Reluctantly, I opened the door only to be greeted by my girlfriend whom was dressed in a really skimpy outfit that would make any pimp dump their hoes and recruit her. I invited her in and we sat on the couch, doing what any 15 years old teenager would do, and that is to bang like a dubstep. It began with first base, then second base, third base, fourth base and after that I ran from across the hallway and uppercutted my girlfriend's uterus, yelling "HOMERUN!".She passed out but I couldn't give a chimp's bollocks because I was eager to play the game I found after Shao-Khanye West defeated the malevolent M.Night Shyamalan. After planting a C4 in the nearby orphanage down the highway, I returned home and put in the cassette inside the PlayStation 4 I stole from some Chinese Sweatshop. As soon as I started up the console, a ghost ejaculated from my PlayStation and stared at me with a malicious look on its face. Horrified, I ran up the staircase and up again into my attic, then I went down the attic and down the staircase, took a left turn, a right one, then left turn again, then a right turn, went through my bathroom, then my anteroom in hopes of losing the now disturbed spirit that laid dormant inside the cassette. After a long 30 minutes sucking on my schlobo inside the wardrobe, I came...outside the wardrobe and back into the living room where my passed out girlfriend was enjoying her sleepy time. But wait, it looks like my girlfriend was up on her feet again and staring at me with cold eyes. Something was definetly wrong with her eyes and expression but before I could analyze her completely, she lunged at me and started pulling on my arms with unnatural strenght. It was so painful I lashed out a scream "YOU'RE TEARING ME APART, LISA!". Not before eviscerating me, the front door was knocked down by the famous Mutahar, owner and host of SomeOminousGangbangers. "You've picked the wrong day to torment innocent lives, now you're about to experience sexual mutaharassment! I've killed more pussies like you than vaginal cancer!". The spirit, scared shitless, left the body of my recent possesed girlfriend and whispered slowly onto my ear "Add me on Steam" before vanishing back to the Spirit World where Paul Walker was shooting for the new movie "Vast and Curious 8, Return of Frank Sinatra". Once again, I was thankful for not dying but I was more thankful to Mutahar who then proceeded to anally assault me with a barracuda. From this day forward, I never spoke to anyone about the incident and kept my mouth shut because the bullies stole my lunch money. I hope you all understood how I felt that day and that no one deserves to go through this painful experience, not even Caillou, who drugged me and stole my kidneys, that bald-headed mudafuka. I hope you all have a pleasent day and that you don't pick up haunted games from trashcans, unless you're inbred like me.