Yeah, I'm just gaining and losing interest in making stuff here on this site (thank my mental disorders for that).

This also happens to be the very first story I ever made since I started making stories, but on a different fiction site. I just copied and pasted the chapter here, then proceeded to edit it since the original is very mediocre and cringy enough for either Pyro or Leafy to make a video about it; Filthy Frank is a high possibility.

Also I didn't make this in a day, it was lying among the other docs like a neglected game cartridge and felt like posting this now instead of later.

This isn't all of it, I'm splitting it into small pieces.

Somewhere in the United States - most likely Florida - resides a human being. But not just any human being, but a person who has brought joy and laughter to many people simply because of the witty words and toilet humor that have exited out of his holy sewer called a mouth. With a voice so deep and beautiful that the chances of a person being cured from a health threatening illness just from simply hearing it will happen every single time without fail whatsoever.

Bearing an untainted, pure heart of metaphorical gold, his pureness also has gentleness that is theoretically rivaled by newborns. Also wielding a charisma so powerful that every single word that's produced from his blessed vocal chords is enough to put all the influential speeches in history to shame.

He is the light to all who have gotten themselves lost in sorrow, emitting a brightness that no other light in the universe can match. The legend being described is none other, than the god himself, penguinz0; also called Cr1TiKaL.

Right now he's playing a poorly made indie game for his next gameplay commentary. While in the middle of making a clever joke about how atrocious the gameplay is, the power suddenly went out.

"...wow, you've gotta be fucking a fish right now," deadpanned Cr1TiKaL, then he face palmed right now as he just remembered one crucial piece of information: it was raining outside. Not only that, but he had also forgotten the possibility of the rain water soaking through the power box connected to his apartment.

During that short, uneventful moment, he felt like the most stupidest, brain dead human being on the whole planet.

Without uttering another word, he got up from his chair so that he could begin his search for a flashlight despite being enveloped in total darkness.

A normal human being would both feel unease and a bit of nervousness from being surrounded by darkness. But Cr1TiKaL wasn't scared of the darkness, he just treated it like it was a normal thing to do in life; finding that secret hiding place surrounding by vultures when he was a child really paid off well.

Anyways, unfortunately Cr1TiKaL would never get the opportunity to finish his search because as soon as he took a few steps forward his T.V. suddenly came to life on it's own; despite the obvious fact that there's no power in his house.

"...Alright, my television just turns on it's own even though the electricity is still gone from my house," Cr1TiKaL said to himself, not in the least bit unnerved that his television was somehow able to turn back on without the need of electricity.

Which his house was lacking right now.

Soon he was in front of his T.V., and the only thing showing on the screen is a snowstorm of black and white flakes; basically, it's just static. Getting curious, he slowly moved his right hand towards the screen and the result was interesting (in Cr1TiKaLs opinion) to say the least. The static that was closest to the five digit appendage suddenly stayed still and began to gather slowly to where he would place his hand, making a silhouette of the slowly approaching hand.

When Cr1TiKaL's hand finally made contact with the screen, the static suddenly surrounded the appendage, covering it in it's snow like glory. On pure instinct alone, he withdrew his hand and looked to see it was no longer covered in static.

"Okay what in the name of the mythical aztec shit-covered nipples is going on? What is this the fucking Ring? Am I experiencing a poltergeist or some shit?

Somehow with the patience of the most wisest of men in history; maybe even wiser than them altogether, Cr1TiKaL had stopped his barrage of questions to realize he may have answered his own.

"Actually, why is all this spooky shit happening within the confines and comfort of my own apartment if people consider this 'unnatural'?" He asked no-one in particular, without the usual sarcasm aiding his voice. What he didn't expect was an actual reply from someone, other than himself.

"Because you've been chosen."

...

...

...

*slow clapping*

Just what he wanted right now in this odd moment of his life; a voice answering his aforementioned million dollar question without any warning or indication that it was going to make itself known.

Yeah, this is definitely what he wanted right now. Some company that wasn't even hear to begin with and considering how it just spoke from out of nowhere made his consider this was someone, or something, on a supernatural level.

Precisely what he wanted in this moment of grand confusion swirling around the man's head. Yep, something he was basically begging for to happen, and he had gotten it.

Mhmm, exactly what he'd wanted.

All that was missing was that demented girl from the Ring franchise to simply pop out of his T.V., and kill him right here and there.

That's right, that is the only thing that's left on the ever piling randomness that seems to arrive without warning.

After an extended period of nothing but expected silence in the aftermath of the sarcasm expressed not too long ago, Cr1TiKaL decided to add in his two cents and ask the "mysterious" voice, as he called it.

Because really, what was he going to name it instead? Boss Awesome? Shake weight? BJ Pro? Handjob Master? Ass Tickler? Titty Fondler?

Actually, the name Instant Ejaculate sounds fitting for the voice in Cr1TiKaL's opinion. He wasn't going to lie, that fefeminine voice heard just now sounded like something that would make straight males bust a nut in their pants.

"Who said that, and where are you?" he asked.

"Inside the screen," the voice replied.

Cr1TiKaL then focused his attention towards his television; which was still showing static. Now wanting to get his answers quick so he could get this ridiculous shit over with, by asking yet another million dollar question.

"Hey, what do you mean 'I've been chosen'?" he asked, referring to the previous million dollar question.

"Step closer and I'll tell you," the voice said in return.

He did as he was without cautious, because who in the name of Uncle Sam's patriotic nipples needs caution when you've got a heavenly woman's voice telling you to do stuff?

When he was just about maybe a few inches away from the static filled screen, regret and annoyance was the only thing coursing throughout his entire being; both body and mind as the only thing rewarding his simple efforts were tendrils made out of static sprout from the television screen and wrap themselves around the man's form.

The tendrils of televised snow had a firm grip on him, then proceeded to pull Cr1TiKaL inside the screen and enveloped him in static. As the last traces of him disappeared inside the small sea of static, the television turned off and the entire apartment was filled with darkness yet again. The only sound heard was the constant barrage of rain hitting the outside of it.

Originally, this was called Cr1TiKaL's Excellent Adventure, but I changed the title since the new one sounds better to me and I was pretty naive when it came to story making because it was my first time, and I was barely getting the grips of it.

Also if you type in the original title to either Google or another internet search engine, there's a chance you'll be able to read it.

Alright, that's it. See ya.