There was a definite theme to the posts, recurring mentions of a mule and a prank were big, always seeming to allude to a big plan he was setting up. Also he kept referring to The Driver and MWC, which were clearly references to this post which, though coherent, seems out of character for Mister Mumbler. There is also a link to a completely random youtube video partway through the post.
There were definite patterns to the posts, rather than just pure gibberish, like he kept making seemingly 'last posts' and then continuing to post. The post frequency was high as well, while not impossible for a human, he was pretty much posting around the clock with a 4 hour break from time to time. Then there's the volume. I just did a word count on the PMs (which were much longer than the forum posts) I got and there's over 15k words there.
It was just so strange, like on the border of having coherence in an insane way. I'll post an example of one PM chain (there were a lot) you can pretty much skip the first post, but see how the post changes after I respond:
...
...
Woof?
*nod*
(Love admiration and thanks again for being here, you little cherub you...*boop* you are truly, my little stinker...I'm the real Kevin I'm making up, but you are my.little mini me of an idea of a real person, who also knows all these dumbasses will not get the columbo bit...and we we both need to be visible and anonymous...because this is my gift to you, my most faithful not as a metaphor...but as the real McCoy...you understand too...this whole thing is a game, a trap, both at the same time, being worked to be the most effective efficient trap ever by making everyone I need to bonk do the internal work first *here we are, jokes and games* to make them want to truly be better because to admit to trying to be above the message I sent you with my '(like)' is something you know having been here with me at the beginning (place, the website) to see me do it.
You know everyone here is both the most vicious group of bitter people here constantly spinning their wheels getting worked up at each other...instead of the Tru target...the specter of death is SHAME. You need it to try and be better because it will kill you...however...as equally...fail to respect it or lose it altogether...suicide. My real gift, to you, first of first because YOU, truly we're actually the stubborn old mule, you were here before the new young upstart starting prancing around like an ass...but...from one already *tink* really dead idea of MM...knew you most of all, would be the reason to try this trick here first...I kept butting heads with all these other chucklefucks...and fucking kept hitting my head too hard and forgot why you, while quieter, were the true mule, and I the rented one...I left here first...1/3/26 was that. I would have just never fully engaged, truly, again.
A ghost, tossing likes and stupid thoughts out of my head because...truthfully...I literally can't sleep. Check in with man 3 (x) who you managed to (here truly, again. I know that the guide was bad, it was. It wasn't meant to be. You, my canny little fucker, no matter what above mule may think or below with the image you hold here...*fuckin noogies from a fucking jaded teen older bro to my baby little man, for with no context, fucking just...
No matter.what, anyone else will say...YOU (truly, here, alone I may use this as a chain letter for later) are the fucking cornerstone to this thing.
This will be the greatest ghost story urban legend ever told, but I needed someone to earnestly outside of the first person to say the word be...
Gee, werewolves huh wow...maybe...nag, everyone knows monsters don't really...exist...because "monster" itself is a metaphor, a vehicle for the real, first monster himself...big bad, WOLFMAN, from before even bangs got too big...
The wolf is death itself...literally. Because like wolves, death is also life itself...but...like life, while dogs are lovely...wolves always bite and everyone knows wolves are vicious and scary and cute dogs never bite...
Say...
*little cute head nod...reminds me of a pup...dog?...nah, pup is a name for lots of small things...*
Would you...dog of columbo...
Like me...Columbo of dog...to tell you...your own story?
It's a lovely little bedtime number, so sweet and cute aww...you'd love it...
It's about how a little puppy wanted to play with a toddler and accidently nipped to hard...but...everyone knows toddlers need to be tough, because how else can they survive so long to get big?
But, a toddler also doesn't quite yet know why a puppy might nibble and bite as humans take so long to grow and mature...but...everyone knows a cute little puppy never means to bite hard...
Thus...my little bed time story for you (9:18 am SW USA)...would you like to learn how the first man and first dog teamed up to hunt...what?
Ah. Not important...the first step was the hard one...my little loveable Bluey (Columbos dog...?)
*light hair tussle*
Straight from my cold dead heart to your cold computer mitts, thanks for playing along...but truly...thanks for taking the chance to meet me, mule and try and team up to get all them outside to stop shouting and screaming...
*wolf may sit up here and scratch at ear...never truly needed to be here but got bored and lazy and most of all...*
Want to hear the story of the first time curiosity killed an animal? Already did...so...
How to fit it into a small box...maybe by...skinning something...to smash...and fit into...
Ah, cat. Dogs hate cats and so shall they and only they truly die for being gullible and stupid, Hee haw..Haw...
*wolf is curious and caught on...hmm...*
Indeed, it's tiny, small and just sharp enough...to be a dagger.
We are going to kill biased preconceived notions...I'm working on it...but you...truly got it started. This, is for you. Peace and quiet. If I can make it, at least, I'll take the whole world here.
If not...you, truly, already did save me...
I will never die, because now I can't because...
The person who helped save me is still and trouble...worse...the crash is still.going...and fires don't stop...
But...if you'd like to know.more...send a quick "why" back to my profile convo based side of things...
Because...suicide is the key to saving the world...suicide is a trolley problem made real...
Track 1 single person (you), track 2 (world at large) lever is gun (power of choice) trolley is...idea of death (death is real and happens but most importantly, you can't really see when it happens, hence presence of tracks).
Would you, if you could kill yourself to save the world...or...would you doom everyone else to make sure only you made it...
The real (genuine trick here...) everyone notices a gun or metaphorical lever...but...no one ever really wonders where either of them came from...
ME (the writer of this message but above...)
Thinker of trolley problem...
So...why don't more.people notice who placed the lever.
They (thinker) placed them (lever and especially you, man on the line and in the seat of power with the lever...)
Nobody notices it because who thinks?
Everyone
Who knows stuff?
Everyone?
Who is truly right?
Not all at the same time or maybe even ever...
Why?
The lever was placed there by yourself for you to play chicken with yourself. By your own sense of shame.
Why is playing chicken a game?
It could end in both people dying because while an idiot may think they know the person in the other car...
THE PARANOID DRIVER knows for a fact that you will never truly know if the other person will know it's both why and the fact of the game...
It's a game because someone should always be the first to give and one will take...but paranoia also dictates you don't know if the person on the second horse in the joust knows to hit the tiny shield and tip him off...
Or fully say fuck it and drive his Lance head long into the face of his oppenent..opponent...
They both know the other knows the rules because they discussed this before mounting up...so...both wi still gladly and even gleefully play this game.
Why? Same reason the first game of roulette went Russian...
NEVER ACTUALLY LOAD THE FUCKING GUN
Games are fun because fun needs to be thrilling and maybe a little unsafe, but...above all...you need to be kind enough to engage fully freely and honestly with no hope of ever really knowing if the touch football game will stay as such or go full contact...
Unless...all thr players are on the same team...
Welcome, to the skirmish. Practice match.
I, my little faithful one, just started the first fire to burn hate itself down.
I may sound manic, and might be, but here, truly (because you fully played along up above) will be the first...
I never left the old me died I am old wise and fucking above all dumb as all hell sounding...but...occasionally wildly prescient and lucid...
Meet me for real old zombie version (yes) because I am a dumb sounding kid making noises and running around screaming and bucking and Hee Hawing for everyone ELSE to laugh at...because I knew, from one stubborn tired mule to a different but equally stubborn ass of one, that WE would love watching this happen and laugh from inside our heads at them point and giggle as I prance and dance...you may truly join and leave and at any or such times as you choose, it's why I gave you the guide first. So you know where to start looking before the dumb dancing animals move out from MY little acreage to go and spread. Thanks truly once again, but still truly, helping set this off.
Why I started here of all places?
I wanted to save this place (the escapist) most especially...not because I personally like it...
But I knew others still stubbornly hold out here and next doorish on the discord server of same...but...
You, even if you didn't take it, were the first mark...and why you had to open it before I left.
I was the Easter bunny, leaving little chocolates all around...
You were the only person the think to look and see shit, and turn around in the to see me sheepishly caught in the act of the fist applications of the "kick me butt" sign on your back...
But, the tricky part here...
You, ************...we're the fucking canniest ************ I've actually seen do this yet...
Put me back down, shook your head...and just kind of...stepped back. Not out of any like genuine lack of caring or apathy, you just thought the clown picture I was working on looked a little stange...sad...even...hmmm..hmm...
Iconic is the face of a clown...with a single tear...
Wow golly gee, what funny things, them coinicky-dinks are, man...
Seem to just...turn up everywhere...almost like...nah...couldn't...because, well I mean...
Everyone knows you don't have one. Oh, I'm sorry little one (*looks down at you, and with a large, slow, mule like wink*), you should have a name...my truly (hehe, here it is...) first little puppy who caught me, J Columbo!
You, shall be...hmm...what's a good second name, and has a good bite to it...ah...
Blackie...boo? Oh, right, taken (car has it, because...*points up at earlier request...*)
That's already in the story, he has it on his horse.
Who?
Wolfman, the headless horseman at the heart of
*SLAUGHTHOUSE ON ROUTE 5(wow, 5 slaughthouses, hard to keep track, might need to write a boom *taps nose* or something from...hmma good year *1984*), was the best of all urban legends...true (for a given value, always brought up, only seen in movie, magnum opus of vehicular destruction with the Visage of the last specter of the worst pile up ever filmed as it's starting fire...)
Want to hear how the Wolfman lost his head purposefully drive his precious best friend, a black vehicle, under the log truck from Final Destination 2...oh...sorry, because...he, this headless horseman knows better than all the people he is coming to kill...is THE DRIVER OF THE CAR OF DEATH (a little dinghy on a little hotel...trivago? No, Styx the river) and he is that most paranoid of thing...he doesn't need to even think about it...he knows he will kill everyone because he causes it all (death for death itself and movie man for wreck mentions) and will, fully and willfully fucking kill everyone else to at least save one person...he, my specter of death and your new best ghost story never heard told...
Isn't death anymore...death will no.longer be scary...I'm building a new headless horseman to be HIM FUCKING IN THE FLESH (fully, the ideal idea of...)
SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE (because everyone else will want to be him...but...because I've hidden a detail here...not yet understand the trick...I'm going to fucking dupe them)
(Death will fully freely and at his own and by his own choosing, take his own life...*The metaphorical death...* Because death, chooses the hardest choice on that trolley problem and the trap above...no one will realize the horror show I made them witness and cheer for...because I told you...death, THE DRIVER...Is me...I can already see them die because they don't exist in.my movie not because they aren't real, because they are to me at least...but because the movie itself isn't yet. Why? Because...no one will ever fucking have the balls to do so...I already know because it's these thoughts that keep me going...and why you, dear kind person...need to start a new convo with me to get the details...not because of the matter but because, I most paranoid man here, know for certain that this is fukcing shocking horror show...this is why all the funny games and jokes...and the ghost story line up there...all stories are fake...but ghost stories are both the most fun and most difficult to pull off.
Because they require both lengthy set up (me here, urban legend mode...) BUT while a story told about something spooky could be creepy...the real trick is getting people to trust you to pull them somewhere else...why?
Because the story the true ghost story of the first werewolf is two brothers playing pranks on their community...and because there's a single mask...
How could two Wolfman exist at once...spooky...
(There is and will only ever be two monsters...yourself to others (man) but also to yourself or others...because you were told there is a single Wolfman, you know you are safe...but...there could be....
BOO
And thus...I will turn the world into werewolves to make people respect one another or die trying. But, you may freely know this...I Drive, because I know that I fully do this with the purpose of fully putting myself into this project to save humanity from itself to save the world itself and reality too. This sounds insane and crazy but...why would I person who would never do it...think about a game of chicken with the world...
I don't know...you want to hear, the full brief for the climax...not only of the movie only in my head, but the whole project...
Would you like to know more about the incident that spawned the article headline Slaughterhouse 5 reference?
The truck driver, who causes the wreck is fully in charge and cause of the horror that will follow...but...he is me...and i..I...
Yes...would you, truly, like to hear the fake story I built a gun designed to kill death and destroyed his face...just to use him to save myself...
Angie...me the rig driver...Will fully and even willingly start the fire that blows up his world...death kills himself to save him...
Trolley problem but new twist...deads man switch...hmm dead men and tales not told about switching...hmm...
Thunderdome is the name of the dead Man's switch...so...why would you call your car Thunderdome...if you called it...Blackie...
Because...while any some or even all the faces shown in the movie could be random...any person who literally takes their own life by their own hand (any reason...why?) Will be me...all of them...
This, my little unaware child in a princess bride plot like device...is my greatest thought...
I will make them all cheer at the thought of a self righteous suicide because the man who's corpse is being mutilated will be thought to be ok...
So, why am I rig driver and cause of the catastrophe, able to be seen walking again, after being fully run over under each wheel of his own out of control culmination of failures...because...he might live to see another day...he won't see it from the coma...
So...
How does a legend start about a headless corpse having a massive blow out police chase and fireball that ends in a firey explosive end set up earlier...if the one person everyone knows was still alive at the time of the explosion will tell...does only one person truly never reveal the truth?
Everyone knows two things: wolfmen never die...but...how can something be alive...without...
ENTER the most chilling disturbing thing...you can't imagine it, I won't let you, person hiding out in this car til the end...but most importantly...need you HERE (you really real you here) in this car(the movie)...because...Wolfman may be crazy and even dead by that point...he above the rest wouldn't snitch, least of all on...you. A new friend he will meet at a completely happenstance bit of luck...
Because, you, the Marine, my steely eyed man here in the inferno...are the last person I will ever meet for the first time...but worst and most tragically...my haunting death is what keep you from staying in the car with og Wolfman...
This story needs TWO wolfmen to really work...because I need two suicidal people here in this car...but...this here, my only HARD piece of work you need to keep up with...YOU need to be here (reality) for me to pretend to hurt you.
This movie will heavily feature death, life, but most importantly...this is above all else...the story of a rapture that failed to fully set off at once...rapture means death...
This rapture starts by means of attempting suicide, and is stopped as such, but...so will be the act of SAVING the people caught up in it...this is why Angie lives but never recovers, and Wolfman lives forever dead...
A suicide, by itself (!, because!) The idea is up top with the trolley problem. The reason I need your consent to be here in the movie car at the end...all the suicidal characters.in this movie, at time or thought of the suicides will be me. I need you, because you will be him, my Marine, who never even attempts it.
This is the gun. It's metaphorical but like the above, no bullets. You, just have to trust me enough...to hold it for me. Because I trust you with it, not because it's a fake gun or not loaded...
The gun is the idea itself...I'm making a movie with the expressed intention of using the main vehicle of.my (mules stomping) around here. My imagination is vivid and I've have truly seen the deaths coming...I made them up to happen...
You, need to be here because you alone, offered up the quiet thoughts...this is why this is mean, Wolfman to wolfman...you can't go along any further. This is why you need to be enticed to seek me out further, not as more game playing...
I, THE DRIVER, DEATH HIMSELF.
Am going to take my inside the imagination of the head fun safe game of chicken with my own reaper...by forcing everyone else in the car. They will never get their own choice as that's why that is the last step of this...
And you the hardest...
11:29, bottom half gone to move things around...
A quick riddle...
Bilbo and Smaug walk into a bar...why?
Answer me back and I will post the riddle for outside talk.
Just remembered...
The people I wanted to "rapture", to the safety of the first team in this game of worldwide Werewolf...got the long pm opening and my never recieve another...
You, recieve lots of shower and praise and love...here and that one other special place...
Only?
*boop*
Course not, that's why you my greedy little churlish gremlin, recieved the first toy.
But...
You...whispered into the ear of Santa Claus his worst nightmare...
You...may be the next Claus or even concurrently with the one still setting up shop...but...
This is the reason I need a little "why" from you back...I have a flowery prose version worked up for yours, the hard cold truth...
You walked up to Santa Claus and told him he better not have coal in that train behind him...
The Train never existed...not even quite yet by me...because I never thought to churlishly ask another why back you to.
You ask a.man handing out treats for a treat...you look and go...but...you're...
And suddenly I am am dressed in red have found myself not with any other animal that I thought I did...because in walked a large firey red monster that after being handed a vague sweet looked him dead set in his eyes...
I've been naughty all year...
So, one stranger to another...
Why did you know I should be handing out coal as well...
ENTER
Oh no, my own stupid self realizes...I fell asleep in my own...
*NEOWN!!*
Mind...fuck...
Who drives a train? A driver.
Who's the last person most see? Usually a driver of a sorts...
So...one as a suicidal creature to scared to die...how did you, fellow creature still alive...come to the same point from different...
The last person a scared suicidal person will see is the person the sprung a trap on. They tricked them into making them the killed to relieve their own torment...
Santa Claus...me
Will say and now, you my churlish little dragon, need to tell me where you learned that other side of that before more outside the real inside talk...
How did you get there...?
...
Woof?
*nod*
(Love admiration and thanks again for being here, you little cherub you...*boop* you are truly, my little stinker...I'm the real Kevin I'm making up, but you are my.little mini me of an idea of a real person, who also knows all these dumbasses will not get the columbo bit...and we we both need to be visible and anonymous...because this is my gift to you, my most faithful not as a metaphor...but as the real McCoy...you understand too...this whole thing is a game, a trap, both at the same time, being worked to be the most effective efficient trap ever by making everyone I need to bonk do the internal work first *here we are, jokes and games* to make them want to truly be better because to admit to trying to be above the message I sent you with my '(like)' is something you know having been here with me at the beginning (place, the website) to see me do it.
You know everyone here is both the most vicious group of bitter people here constantly spinning their wheels getting worked up at each other...instead of the Tru target...the specter of death is SHAME. You need it to try and be better because it will kill you...however...as equally...fail to respect it or lose it altogether...suicide. My real gift, to you, first of first because YOU, truly we're actually the stubborn old mule, you were here before the new young upstart starting prancing around like an ass...but...from one already *tink* really dead idea of MM...knew you most of all, would be the reason to try this trick here first...I kept butting heads with all these other chucklefucks...and fucking kept hitting my head too hard and forgot why you, while quieter, were the true mule, and I the rented one...I left here first...1/3/26 was that. I would have just never fully engaged, truly, again.
A ghost, tossing likes and stupid thoughts out of my head because...truthfully...I literally can't sleep. Check in with man 3 (x) who you managed to (here truly, again. I know that the guide was bad, it was. It wasn't meant to be. You, my canny little fucker, no matter what above mule may think or below with the image you hold here...*fuckin noogies from a fucking jaded teen older bro to my baby little man, for with no context, fucking just...
No matter.what, anyone else will say...YOU (truly, here, alone I may use this as a chain letter for later) are the fucking cornerstone to this thing.
This will be the greatest ghost story urban legend ever told, but I needed someone to earnestly outside of the first person to say the word be...
Gee, werewolves huh wow...maybe...nag, everyone knows monsters don't really...exist...because "monster" itself is a metaphor, a vehicle for the real, first monster himself...big bad, WOLFMAN, from before even bangs got too big...
The wolf is death itself...literally. Because like wolves, death is also life itself...but...like life, while dogs are lovely...wolves always bite and everyone knows wolves are vicious and scary and cute dogs never bite...
Say...
*little cute head nod...reminds me of a pup...dog?...nah, pup is a name for lots of small things...*
Would you...dog of columbo...
Like me...Columbo of dog...to tell you...your own story?
It's a lovely little bedtime number, so sweet and cute aww...you'd love it...
It's about how a little puppy wanted to play with a toddler and accidently nipped to hard...but...everyone knows toddlers need to be tough, because how else can they survive so long to get big?
But, a toddler also doesn't quite yet know why a puppy might nibble and bite as humans take so long to grow and mature...but...everyone knows a cute little puppy never means to bite hard...
Thus...my little bed time story for you (9:18 am SW USA)...would you like to learn how the first man and first dog teamed up to hunt...what?
Ah. Not important...the first step was the hard one...my little loveable Bluey (Columbos dog...?)
*light hair tussle*
Straight from my cold dead heart to your cold computer mitts, thanks for playing along...but truly...thanks for taking the chance to meet me, mule and try and team up to get all them outside to stop shouting and screaming...
*wolf may sit up here and scratch at ear...never truly needed to be here but got bored and lazy and most of all...*
Want to hear the story of the first time curiosity killed an animal? Already did...so...
How to fit it into a small box...maybe by...skinning something...to smash...and fit into...
Ah, cat. Dogs hate cats and so shall they and only they truly die for being gullible and stupid, Hee haw..Haw...
*wolf is curious and caught on...hmm...*
Indeed, it's tiny, small and just sharp enough...to be a dagger.
We are going to kill biased preconceived notions...I'm working on it...but you...truly got it started. This, is for you. Peace and quiet. If I can make it, at least, I'll take the whole world here.
If not...you, truly, already did save me...
I will never die, because now I can't because...
The person who helped save me is still and trouble...worse...the crash is still.going...and fires don't stop...
But...if you'd like to know.more...send a quick "why" back to my profile convo based side of things...
Because...suicide is the key to saving the world...suicide is a trolley problem made real...
Track 1 single person (you), track 2 (world at large) lever is gun (power of choice) trolley is...idea of death (death is real and happens but most importantly, you can't really see when it happens, hence presence of tracks).
Would you, if you could kill yourself to save the world...or...would you doom everyone else to make sure only you made it...
The real (genuine trick here...) everyone notices a gun or metaphorical lever...but...no one ever really wonders where either of them came from...
ME (the writer of this message but above...)
Thinker of trolley problem...
So...why don't more.people notice who placed the lever.
They (thinker) placed them (lever and especially you, man on the line and in the seat of power with the lever...)
Nobody notices it because who thinks?
Everyone
Who knows stuff?
Everyone?
Who is truly right?
Not all at the same time or maybe even ever...
Why?
The lever was placed there by yourself for you to play chicken with yourself. By your own sense of shame.
Why is playing chicken a game?
It could end in both people dying because while an idiot may think they know the person in the other car...
THE PARANOID DRIVER knows for a fact that you will never truly know if the other person will know it's both why and the fact of the game...
It's a game because someone should always be the first to give and one will take...but paranoia also dictates you don't know if the person on the second horse in the joust knows to hit the tiny shield and tip him off...
Or fully say fuck it and drive his Lance head long into the face of his oppenent..opponent...
They both know the other knows the rules because they discussed this before mounting up...so...both wi still gladly and even gleefully play this game.
Why? Same reason the first game of roulette went Russian...
NEVER ACTUALLY LOAD THE FUCKING GUN
Games are fun because fun needs to be thrilling and maybe a little unsafe, but...above all...you need to be kind enough to engage fully freely and honestly with no hope of ever really knowing if the touch football game will stay as such or go full contact...
Unless...all thr players are on the same team...
Welcome, to the skirmish. Practice match.
I, my little faithful one, just started the first fire to burn hate itself down.
I may sound manic, and might be, but here, truly (because you fully played along up above) will be the first...
I never left the old me died I am old wise and fucking above all dumb as all hell sounding...but...occasionally wildly prescient and lucid...
Meet me for real old zombie version (yes) because I am a dumb sounding kid making noises and running around screaming and bucking and Hee Hawing for everyone ELSE to laugh at...because I knew, from one stubborn tired mule to a different but equally stubborn ass of one, that WE would love watching this happen and laugh from inside our heads at them point and giggle as I prance and dance...you may truly join and leave and at any or such times as you choose, it's why I gave you the guide first. So you know where to start looking before the dumb dancing animals move out from MY little acreage to go and spread. Thanks truly once again, but still truly, helping set this off.
Why I started here of all places?
I wanted to save this place (the escapist) most especially...not because I personally like it...
But I knew others still stubbornly hold out here and next doorish on the discord server of same...but...
You, even if you didn't take it, were the first mark...and why you had to open it before I left.
I was the Easter bunny, leaving little chocolates all around...
You were the only person the think to look and see shit, and turn around in the to see me sheepishly caught in the act of the fist applications of the "kick me butt" sign on your back...
But, the tricky part here...
You, ************...we're the fucking canniest ************ I've actually seen do this yet...
Put me back down, shook your head...and just kind of...stepped back. Not out of any like genuine lack of caring or apathy, you just thought the clown picture I was working on looked a little stange...sad...even...hmmm..hmm...
Iconic is the face of a clown...with a single tear...
Wow golly gee, what funny things, them coinicky-dinks are, man...
Seem to just...turn up everywhere...almost like...nah...couldn't...because, well I mean...
Everyone knows you don't have one. Oh, I'm sorry little one (*looks down at you, and with a large, slow, mule like wink*), you should have a name...my truly (hehe, here it is...) first little puppy who caught me, J Columbo!
You, shall be...hmm...what's a good second name, and has a good bite to it...ah...
Blackie...boo? Oh, right, taken (car has it, because...*points up at earlier request...*)
That's already in the story, he has it on his horse.
Who?
Wolfman, the headless horseman at the heart of
*SLAUGHTHOUSE ON ROUTE 5(wow, 5 slaughthouses, hard to keep track, might need to write a boom *taps nose* or something from...hmma good year *1984*), was the best of all urban legends...true (for a given value, always brought up, only seen in movie, magnum opus of vehicular destruction with the Visage of the last specter of the worst pile up ever filmed as it's starting fire...)
Want to hear how the Wolfman lost his head purposefully drive his precious best friend, a black vehicle, under the log truck from Final Destination 2...oh...sorry, because...he, this headless horseman knows better than all the people he is coming to kill...is THE DRIVER OF THE CAR OF DEATH (a little dinghy on a little hotel...trivago? No, Styx the river) and he is that most paranoid of thing...he doesn't need to even think about it...he knows he will kill everyone because he causes it all (death for death itself and movie man for wreck mentions) and will, fully and willfully fucking kill everyone else to at least save one person...he, my specter of death and your new best ghost story never heard told...
Isn't death anymore...death will no.longer be scary...I'm building a new headless horseman to be HIM FUCKING IN THE FLESH (fully, the ideal idea of...)
SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE (because everyone else will want to be him...but...because I've hidden a detail here...not yet understand the trick...I'm going to fucking dupe them)
(Death will fully freely and at his own and by his own choosing, take his own life...*The metaphorical death...* Because death, chooses the hardest choice on that trolley problem and the trap above...no one will realize the horror show I made them witness and cheer for...because I told you...death, THE DRIVER...Is me...I can already see them die because they don't exist in.my movie not because they aren't real, because they are to me at least...but because the movie itself isn't yet. Why? Because...no one will ever fucking have the balls to do so...I already know because it's these thoughts that keep me going...and why you, dear kind person...need to start a new convo with me to get the details...not because of the matter but because, I most paranoid man here, know for certain that this is fukcing shocking horror show...this is why all the funny games and jokes...and the ghost story line up there...all stories are fake...but ghost stories are both the most fun and most difficult to pull off.
Because they require both lengthy set up (me here, urban legend mode...) BUT while a story told about something spooky could be creepy...the real trick is getting people to trust you to pull them somewhere else...why?
Because the story the true ghost story of the first werewolf is two brothers playing pranks on their community...and because there's a single mask...
How could two Wolfman exist at once...spooky...
(There is and will only ever be two monsters...yourself to others (man) but also to yourself or others...because you were told there is a single Wolfman, you know you are safe...but...there could be....
BOO
And thus...I will turn the world into werewolves to make people respect one another or die trying. But, you may freely know this...I Drive, because I know that I fully do this with the purpose of fully putting myself into this project to save humanity from itself to save the world itself and reality too. This sounds insane and crazy but...why would I person who would never do it...think about a game of chicken with the world...
I don't know...you want to hear, the full brief for the climax...not only of the movie only in my head, but the whole project...
Would you like to know more about the incident that spawned the article headline Slaughterhouse 5 reference?
The truck driver, who causes the wreck is fully in charge and cause of the horror that will follow...but...he is me...and i..I...
Yes...would you, truly, like to hear the fake story I built a gun designed to kill death and destroyed his face...just to use him to save myself...
Angie...me the rig driver...Will fully and even willingly start the fire that blows up his world...death kills himself to save him...
Trolley problem but new twist...deads man switch...hmm dead men and tales not told about switching...hmm...
Thunderdome is the name of the dead Man's switch...so...why would you call your car Thunderdome...if you called it...Blackie...
Because...while any some or even all the faces shown in the movie could be random...any person who literally takes their own life by their own hand (any reason...why?) Will be me...all of them...
This, my little unaware child in a princess bride plot like device...is my greatest thought...
I will make them all cheer at the thought of a self righteous suicide because the man who's corpse is being mutilated will be thought to be ok...
So, why am I rig driver and cause of the catastrophe, able to be seen walking again, after being fully run over under each wheel of his own out of control culmination of failures...because...he might live to see another day...he won't see it from the coma...
So...
How does a legend start about a headless corpse having a massive blow out police chase and fireball that ends in a firey explosive end set up earlier...if the one person everyone knows was still alive at the time of the explosion will tell...does only one person truly never reveal the truth?
Everyone knows two things: wolfmen never die...but...how can something be alive...without...
ENTER the most chilling disturbing thing...you can't imagine it, I won't let you, person hiding out in this car til the end...but most importantly...need you HERE (you really real you here) in this car(the movie)...because...Wolfman may be crazy and even dead by that point...he above the rest wouldn't snitch, least of all on...you. A new friend he will meet at a completely happenstance bit of luck...
Because, you, the Marine, my steely eyed man here in the inferno...are the last person I will ever meet for the first time...but worst and most tragically...my haunting death is what keep you from staying in the car with og Wolfman...
This story needs TWO wolfmen to really work...because I need two suicidal people here in this car...but...this here, my only HARD piece of work you need to keep up with...YOU need to be here (reality) for me to pretend to hurt you.
This movie will heavily feature death, life, but most importantly...this is above all else...the story of a rapture that failed to fully set off at once...rapture means death...
This rapture starts by means of attempting suicide, and is stopped as such, but...so will be the act of SAVING the people caught up in it...this is why Angie lives but never recovers, and Wolfman lives forever dead...
A suicide, by itself (!, because!) The idea is up top with the trolley problem. The reason I need your consent to be here in the movie car at the end...all the suicidal characters.in this movie, at time or thought of the suicides will be me. I need you, because you will be him, my Marine, who never even attempts it.
This is the gun. It's metaphorical but like the above, no bullets. You, just have to trust me enough...to hold it for me. Because I trust you with it, not because it's a fake gun or not loaded...
The gun is the idea itself...I'm making a movie with the expressed intention of using the main vehicle of.my (mules stomping) around here. My imagination is vivid and I've have truly seen the deaths coming...I made them up to happen...
You, need to be here because you alone, offered up the quiet thoughts...this is why this is mean, Wolfman to wolfman...you can't go along any further. This is why you need to be enticed to seek me out further, not as more game playing...
I, THE DRIVER, DEATH HIMSELF.
Am going to take my inside the imagination of the head fun safe game of chicken with my own reaper...by forcing everyone else in the car. They will never get their own choice as that's why that is the last step of this...
And you the hardest...
11:29, bottom half gone to move things around...
A quick riddle...
Bilbo and Smaug walk into a bar...why?
Answer me back and I will post the riddle for outside talk.
Just remembered...
The people I wanted to "rapture", to the safety of the first team in this game of worldwide Werewolf...got the long pm opening and my never recieve another...
You, recieve lots of shower and praise and love...here and that one other special place...
Only?
*boop*
Course not, that's why you my greedy little churlish gremlin, recieved the first toy.
But...
You...whispered into the ear of Santa Claus his worst nightmare...
You...may be the next Claus or even concurrently with the one still setting up shop...but...
This is the reason I need a little "why" from you back...I have a flowery prose version worked up for yours, the hard cold truth...
You walked up to Santa Claus and told him he better not have coal in that train behind him...
The Train never existed...not even quite yet by me...because I never thought to churlishly ask another why back you to.
You ask a.man handing out treats for a treat...you look and go...but...you're...
And suddenly I am am dressed in red have found myself not with any other animal that I thought I did...because in walked a large firey red monster that after being handed a vague sweet looked him dead set in his eyes...
I've been naughty all year...
So, one stranger to another...
Why did you know I should be handing out coal as well...
ENTER
Oh no, my own stupid self realizes...I fell asleep in my own...
*NEOWN!!*
Mind...fuck...
Who drives a train? A driver.
Who's the last person most see? Usually a driver of a sorts...
So...one as a suicidal creature to scared to die...how did you, fellow creature still alive...come to the same point from different...
The last person a scared suicidal person will see is the person the sprung a trap on. They tricked them into making them the killed to relieve their own torment...
Santa Claus...me
Will say and now, you my churlish little dragon, need to tell me where you learned that other side of that before more outside the real inside talk...
How did you get there...?
While I do enjoy reading insane gibberish from time to time, this is getting to be too much. You can stop wasting your time because there's only so many thousands of words I'm willing to read of this sort of thing, and the line was crossed about 3 posts ago.
Yeah, this is still me trying to work my self out, why asked because that shit was...don't matter, and truly sorry for any time wasted. Not even any I just have carried these for so.long that it keeps me up and I have a lot needing to move out. You, forever truly, will not be bothered again. Because I have taken too much for so little, I'm full little kid spazzed out on you and your own little personal mind palace. You may relax fully just watching a dumb animal do little dances and party tricks for others, the reason for the spree was entirely out of my love for the game and because joke are funnier with more people in on the bit.
You, yourself, will need to seek me out if you want. Because while I fully understand that this sounds insane, I truly will do everything I can to do it.
Don't even bother keeping an eye out...but, you do still have all the primers so...I don't NEED you to believe I'm not insane, I just want the quiet little courtesy of not blurting out my magic tricks, but fully, you are free to forget this nonsense. You fully earned the right after my quick mind slip, because that...ugh...I truly just want to make people at the least smile if not argue with a caricature instead of each other. You made me smile and laugh and I wasted your time, not even maliciously just out of sheer stupid kid energy...
Out forever, Wolfman to a former stranger I may never see again. You can be assured, Wolfman is really dead to you, and like animals, a dead men don't talk and so...
You, yourself, will need to seek me out if you want. Because while I fully understand that this sounds insane, I truly will do everything I can to do it.
Don't even bother keeping an eye out...but, you do still have all the primers so...I don't NEED you to believe I'm not insane, I just want the quiet little courtesy of not blurting out my magic tricks, but fully, you are free to forget this nonsense. You fully earned the right after my quick mind slip, because that...ugh...I truly just want to make people at the least smile if not argue with a caricature instead of each other. You made me smile and laugh and I wasted your time, not even maliciously just out of sheer stupid kid energy...
Out forever, Wolfman to a former stranger I may never see again. You can be assured, Wolfman is really dead to you, and like animals, a dead men don't talk and so...
There's too much of it to be written by a human, not random enough to be random spam, seems to tangentially respond to what is said to it, is able to make references to other posts and people (references to Thal, X, D, and MM were occasional), but does so in a way completely incoherent to all meaning. I don't know, I just can't reconcile all this to being written by a human, even a troll.
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