No.
Just no.
Who the fuck put in a request for a part two?
Someone give me the script; this is ridiculous. The idiot twins aren't even here for this one. Someone else's gonna have to fill in for them.
Yeah, Lombardi here. We've recently been getting a lot of alerts for consecutive birthdays. At this station alone, it's been three people—23, 25, and 27—alone with September birthdays.
Nice to know what parents like to do on New Years.
But this isn't my job. You're not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be giving birthday wishes. And you're supposed to be at another station!
So get outta here! Screw this! I'm done, so done!
The author flips a switch on the side of a camera, soon pointing its lens to an animated backdrop with a prairie wasteland and a dust cloud rumbling from the distance.
"Cheating switch to third person done?" a woman sporting a tank top and yoga pants said.
The author flashes a thumbs up by the camera.
"Cringeworthy switch back to first person ready?"
The author nods, and soon someone in the background whispers, "We're live in three, two, one…"
The woman smiles, facing the camera, mike in hand.
Sometimes You Own Crap.
SYOC: it's the kind of stuff that makes you wonder why you're trying to get strangers on the internet to suffer as hard as you did writing it. The entire world has undergone a cycle of second happenings like this, and it has struck the very hearts and souls of you fellow watchers before you could even click that back button.
Hi, this is the Wii Fit Trainer of SYOC, and I'm here to bring you the latest on crap crack, shit scripts, and fun fuck-ups so hard you'll never see squeezed lemons the same ever again.
If you think you haven't written at least one thing so bad, it made you cringe, then take a good look at the stuff you wrote before you say otherwise because chances are you're hiding something. And we'll find you.
This week on SYOC, we got an exclusive look backstage at the productions of an abandoned story called "Oh Fuck, We're Gonna Die: Uncut Edition" that had originally been an entry for the Suspense Contest. And for those of you at home, if you know a fellow feminist in the family, best lock 'em up before moving onwards because we sure got a stinker here, folks. Here's a recorded behind-the-scenes exclusive word from actor Solid Snake who played the man who cause of everyone's deaths because he was too lazy to be a gentlemen and open a fucking door:
Snake strokes his fake beard, cord stretching from around his ears each time his fingers got caught in the fake beard hair. Then it'd snap back when he lets go, his fake beard hitting his fake chin. "Those women, they get mad when us men don't open a door for them, pull out their seats for them, or even pay the bill for them. Then they think to be 'fair,' they should get paid the same as us men for the same work. Feminists, do you know what I have to say to that?
"Go on a date with me on the Titanic, and when the fucker starts sinking and they call for women and children on lifeboats first, leaving us men to freeze and die in the fucking water—"
He winks.
"—Then we can talk about equality."
Before we were given that tape, I had a different interview with actor A.C. Villager who took on the role as the protagonist Vill, an old man who'd never used the internet before, and everyone hated him because of it.
"They've had some weird things on the set," Villager told me when I first asked him why they canceled the contest entry's production. "We were given shipments of lemons shaped as people. They had lemons of Marth and Ike, lemons of Snake and Link, lemons of Peach and Donkey Kong—they even had lemons of me and Mega Man!"
When I later asked if he had read any fanfiction before, Villager asked me what that was.
Then he continued saying, "They were very detailed too. Carved in all the right rumps and bumps here and there, but the lemons all got hot and sweaty and sticky from siting in their boxes all day. It's flattering and stuff, but…"
Looks like his character wasn't the only person who's never used the internet before.
Suffice to say he refused to make any more comments when I explained the terms fanfiction and lemons together to him, so instead he gave us an insider's look on the only copy of a never-released trailer of the abandoned Suspense Contest Entry: "Oh Fuck, We're Gonna Die: Uncut Edition."
"What do you mean only couples could get in now?"
The guard shrugged. "Sorry, but this dome can't fit everyone. How about you wait till they say short old men can get in now?"
Vill wanted to shove a stick up the guard's ass, but at this rate, they were gonna die anyway, so it wouldn't matter. He could hear the dust storm rumbling in behind them, almost reaching the borders of town. If the guard wouldn't let him in the dome as is, he'd have to try something else.
Vill soon decided a walk around the metal dome might help him find another passage inside—a possible secret door, a window, anything—when he caught a moustached plumber and the town mayor's pink ball gown wearing daughter staring so lovingly into each other's eyes, Villager almost puked right there and then.
"Oh Mario, I wish father would allow me, a rich beautiful damsel fall in love with a poor, fat man like you, but he won't approve of our relationship."
"It's-a okay, me amore. I will run off to find him and declare my love, and he'll have no choice but to approve when he realises we'll all die soon from the storm."
"Oh Mario, you're so brave."
And Vill found himself staring at his lunch when he grabbed the nearest trash can he could find and hurled in it. However, he caught the man, Mario, dashing his way when an idea popped in his head. Axe in hand and when Mario turned the corner, Vill cracked his head with one swing.
Mario now collapsed on the floor, Vill smiled as he grabbed the man's moustache, axe slowly scrapping it off. He'd have to hurry; there wasn't much time left.
The mayor's daughter paced back and forth when she heard a trash can rattle from the side of the dome wall. "Hello?" she called out. "Who's there?"
Soon Vill stepped out from behind the wall. However, rather than his old T-shirt and shorts, he had his hands holding up the overalls and red sweater too baggy for his figure. On his head was a bloody red cap and on his face: a bloody moustached recently skinned off a dead man.
"Hey, baby," Vill said in a forced deep voice. "Let's get ourselves into this dome, shall we?"
Sometimes, you own crap. And we'll be there to expose it. Thanks for joining us on SYOC: birthday edition! Tune in next week for an exclusive insider's scoop behind the makings of "Are you ready for a TOD?" and its sequel, "Are you ready for an SYOC?"
Wait, what? Who wrote this script?
Lombardi, where are you? I need you back at your station! Now!
Fuck.
Lombardi here.
Guess during the trailer, we got a buddy here who thought this was funny:
A new review has been posted to your story.
Story: Are you ready for an SYOC?
Chapter: 1. No.
From: Guest
:U takin OCs? i hav 1
Name: Laptop
Age: 20 Male
Powers: peple fall in love wth one mose click, can shot out lemons
Pairng: laptop/ninjas
…
Like why? Dude, you got the wrong station— actually, you know what?
I'll keep that here.
Tune4Toons: I am so sorry haha.
I swear, I'm breaking all the rules that make me cringe. Look at what you did to me—I'm never writing metas again haha. I'll admit this one's a little darker, hopefully a little more personally tailored too.
This one goes out to my first Rancho sis! Happy birthday! I'm sorry I hadn't been able to write (aka fix) a proper entry to your contest, so this is basically the mini monster that spawned out of the old craptastic drafts that I was originally gonna do for you.
I DISCLAIM EVERYTHING HERE. I'M SORRY I DID THIS TO ALL OF YOU.