Untitled

youtube.com/watch?v=VCYetaKe9L4

Still one of my favorite edits.

hey look a free thread

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Based Mike has a huge penis

dude im fucking dead lmao

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MEIN
KAMPF

>bump

youtube.com/watch?v=Go4AQPaUzJo

You can shut up now.

MOINCRAP

my deduction skills as a detective tell me he has quite possibly, never had sex

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This is one of the greatest things I have ever seen.

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It's fucking beautiful.

holy fuck I needed this

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It was so much more than a bad dream. A figurative nightmare orchestrated by one individual, so heinous and self-centered that Mike just couldn’t take it anymore.

His life had become dedicated to shadow and second-hand fame. Never would he be able to stand on his own two legs, not without the watchful, controlling grip of the oh-so-mighty. And he had worked so hard for this, for him, just to be all but ignored. At his best, Mike received camera time or recognition when it suited James. Under James’ direction, he would dress up in silly outfits, spit out silly, 2-Dimensional lines. But he had worked so much harder, always supporting his friend, showering him with art and praise and it was all taken for granted. He deserved so much more.

At least it was better than Guitar Guy got.

Mike winced, remembering his friend. He reminisced early times with the man; he was a talented musician and Mike understood first hand how difficult it was to create original content--as an artist himself, they had lots in common and always seemed to get along well.

But he was long gone and forgotten… dared he to look, he may still find his corpse behind James telltale regular old futon. He never bothered to clean up back there.

Mike was afraid of suffering the same fate. Worming his way into James life, offering him games and art had become a way of trying to justify his importance to the show. Each episode needed a card, and there were always games James didn’t own that Mike could seek out on his own… but he was running out of options.

It was a fateful night, alone in his office that Mike was reading comments, as he was possessed to do so from time to time. James wouldn’t bother; he was too busy. The comments and messages were riddled with passionate, pointless bickering and petty insults.

“Mike is such a faggot holy shit”
“I thought this was AVGN’s channel???”

He was harshly struck by the last one.

“Miney Crafta”

That was it. He would change things. If he couldn’t get his share of respect from neither James or the audience, he would change things. The internet at his fingertips, he started searching. He searched for generic terms at first, then reading up, learned specifics and names. He delved into the shadowed parts of the net which most just fleetingly pass by. But not him; he was here with a purpose. He would make James pay through means that could never be traced back to him.

It was the early hours of the morning when Mike had finally compiled all he needed, printing off the chants and instructions. Checking the time, he had less than two hours before the sun would rise and he would have to suffer through another day of obscurity. This plan would only work under the cover of stars. He hurried around his house, gathering the key ingredients and of course, a lighter. He made sure he had James’ house keys and set out to his car.

The short drive to James’ was almost surreal. It was so much like his regular commute there, but this would be the last time it would be.

Entering his house, he headed down to the Nerd Cave, passing James' ridiculous film collection without consideration. If James was going anywhere, it was going to be a hell that the Nerd himself could appreciate. In the big, brown room stacked floor-to-ceiling with vidya, Mike made his way to the familiar NES shelves. He quickly found just what he was looking for: the neatly-labelled cartridge of Lester the Unlikely. Mike was sure he might find a box if he had stayed to search the organized mess, but time pressed him to move. Cartridge in hand, he set down his full backpack and opened it, probing the compartment for the tools he would need for the first phase of his plan.

To be sure his main plan worked, James' fat cow of a wife would have to be silenced. He could do whatever he wanted with her after, as long as she wasn't able to interrupt the ritual.

From his bag he removed a fat, cold bottle and a roll of duct-tape. He would have gotten rope but he had no time to go looking.

He slung his bag back across his shoulders. Then, he headed upstairs, creeping as quietly as possible along the stairs and down the hall, making a short pitstop at the washroom door to grab a handtowel. He loaded the towel with chloroform.

>2:39

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Slipping into the bedroom, his steps fell on plush carpet floor--no doubt paid for partially by Mike's work. But now, his bitterness was overcome by his excitement as he crossed the room gently towards the sleeping couple.

It was too dark to see much, but it was easy enough to separate them. Towards the far side of the bed lay April, sprawled on her back. He crept over to her side of the bed first, and in one fell motion dosed her with the rag. Her eyes fluttered open just for a moment before sinking shut again.

He held dead still for several moments.

It worked.

Next, he set down his bag at the foot of the bed. Knowing James was a particularly heavy sleeper (though he normally snored), he felt free to fish about in his bag for the bag of dirt he had raked from outside. Finding the soft, cold bag he set about the room, drawing a circle around the bed. He carefully leaned over the bed, drawing the transmutation circle he would soon invoke to exact revenge. When it was all drawn up, Mike flicked his lighter on and urged himself to finish the rite. He began mumbling quietly, funding the words coming to him naturally. He placed the Lester the Unlikely cart on to James' chest, and held his hands over it. When his was done the chant, he brought a hand back to his face, and with a final push, bit hard into his palm. Tasting blood, he was satisfied and resumed his stance over James. The second a drop of his blood his the cartridge, everything changed.
-

"Nerd, do you know what this is?" He asked, revealing a large, bulbous cucumber. "No? Let me give you a hint." He laughed, slowly lowering it towards the semi-conscious April bent over the bed.

James voice escaped as barely more than breath. "Shitpickle?"

But no reply came.
No cheeky, annoying tone in response. Just his wife, shrieking from the violation.

"Whoa baby, I've barely started yet!" Motherfucker Mike cooed, "It will be when I'm done with her."

It was too much for the Nerd. His precious wife was moaning and shrieking as his best friend probed her with a vegetable, more so than he had heard in years. It was clear both her, in her stupefied state, and Motherfucker Mike were genuinely enjoying the experience. That was when it got weird.
He felt himself twitch and press upwards. It was distinctly noticeable through his boxers, though he doubted either of them were paying any attention to him. So he sat and watched the ordeal, even as it proceeded to get messy.

I didn't write the rest because I got lazy, but I'm glad for a chance to post it again

2:07-2:20 is fucking emmy worthy.

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_ricks _rown

someone make that gif please

>Oblivion Character deaths

It's like Garfield minus Garfield, I love it