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CREEPYPASTA LOST EPISODES The Real Angry Video Game Nerd

CREEPYPASTA LOST EPISODES The Real Angry Video Game Nerd

Do you ever watch The Angry Video Game Nerd? Starring James Rolfe, the viral video series took the world by storm in the mid-00’s and has since gone on to be one of the biggest shows on all of Youtube. That is, except for one point in 2015 when the Cinemassacre channel, James Rolfe’s flagship channel, was mysteriously banned from Youtube, only to be brought back later with several videos removed.

As a personal friend of the Rolfe family, I initially acquired the VHS that caused this brief banning, and let me tell you: it’s not pretty. It was a black VHS with a piece of duct tape with the words “AVGN: The Final Shit’ written in sharpie. The tape also smelled like shit, and there were shit stains on it. It was disgusting I didn’t want to watch this shit covered tape.

But, I myself am a private investigator who was hired to find out what happened to James Rolfe during those months. I am writing this anonymously, but I wore a mask around James Rolfe from 2013-2015 and briefly worked as a doll grip. I would send him anonymous emails claiming to be internet celebrities like Doug Waker and JonTren.

In the end, I got what I wanted. What I’ll describe to you is the most graphic and explicit tape I have ever witness. Something that turns my stomach to even think about. I knew this wasn’t a Halloween episode.

See: James Rolfe was an avante garde filmmaker before he made The Angry Movie Game Nerd series. His goal was to be one of the more lucrative viral video makers before spanning a film career. But it wasn’t enough. James never got to make the film he truly wanted to make, something that truly makes people feel. Like pressing onto a VCR only to get stabbed with a thumbtack.

The tape is really grainy at the start and starts with a making of video. I think he wanted to upload It as a ‘making of’ later on his Cinemassacre webpage. You just hear James Rolfe and Mike Matei, his partner filmmaker, laughing uproariously in their kitchen. I always assumed the two lived together, and here you see them having one hell of a time.

“This is gonna be great.” They’re laughing, and he’s got some chocolate syrup, Easter candy shaped like birds (Called Peeps) and some M&Ms. “Lol they look like shit.” He’s snickering. Loudly. “Shit!” Mike matei says, laughing. They’re both laughing really loud. “I just want to shit all over the floor.” James Rolfe laughs loudly. “Like I have a bowel problem.” Then he does something really strange. He’s drinking his favorite beer, rolling rock. “My magnum opus” James rolfe, the angry video game nerd laughs. “That’s not just chocolate” he says. He pulls his pants down revealing that he’s been shoving candy and confetti in his ass. He’s…eating some weird chocolate. Mike matei laughs loudly. “It’s a laxative, rofl.” Mike’s egg-shaped head looks really weird, like he looks like an alien.

I don’t know if it’s the camera or the framing, but I swear to god, mike’s head is egg like. He bites into a Cadbury egg. “I got a whole five pounds. Eat it up James. This’ll be great.” He’s smiling, and I swear, he looks a little evil, there’s an alien glint in his eye and his head is very…poindextrous. I shivered.

“Ok Dr. Robotnik.” James snickers. Well this wasn’t gonna end well. He eats five pounds of chocolate and I begin to feel gratuitously nauseous as he starts shoving plastic Halloween candy in his ass. Mars bars, candy corn and even a pez dispenser. You even see his ass and he’s laughing as he shows people his ass. All the while he’s eating pounds and pounds of laxative.

Then you see Mike Matei quietly go up to the camera after there’s a grainy sound, like someone turning on an air vent and flushing a toilet. He smiles at the camera. I swear, there’s a sinister glint in his eye, and it was then that I noticed… he was wearing pajamas. Why the fuck was a 40 year old man wearing pajama’s in a stranger’s house. I shuddered, and it looked like his skin was slipping off, revealing something reptilian beneath.

The screen went to black.

Then I heard the familiar theme. Thank goodness.

“He’s gonna take you back to the past! To play the shitty games that suck ass!” Finally, I could enjoy the program. I got out my notepad and began to investigate. This was my first week as a P.I. and I wanted to impress the boss. My brow and new trenchcoat began to get covered in a thick layer of perspiration at what I saw next.

You see James walk over to his game collection. “Shit, shit. These games are all shit I want to shove them into my ass. I have a scatological fetish and can’t stop talking about excrement, shit piss dick. Shit dick. Piss on my dick.” He picks up a game cartridge and angrily slams it on the floor.

You hear a…churning noise. It’s his stomach. He looks a little queasy. He starts to bark like an angry seal.

“Oh what’s this. Pokemon well why don’t you suck my dick. Mass effect? More like ASS effect! Teenage mutant ninja turtles makes me want to fist my asshole.”

What the hell was this guy talking about. “Released in 1997, my nutsack” Ugh… he had put his testicles in the NINTENDO entertainment system. You see his shriveled raisin-shaped sack pushing down the metal NES cart grid. I felt some vomit start to trickle up from my stomach. I removed my P.I. trenchcoat, not wanting the boss to find out that I couldn’t keep down the catered lunch he provided for us earlier that day. There was SUPPOSED to be a game review.

“Enjoy your call of duty. I hope you actually get drafted into the army and assaulted by cave terrorists.” What the fuck. Now he’s playing call of duty. “You just run around and shoot stuff. Military this, military that, are you having fucking fun. I can’t even open a door because I hav eto wait for the fucking scripted event to trigger suck my dick. The hit boxes are so big because it’s meant to trigger the r-complex in your reptilian brain that wants violence and bloodshed. Call of duty, more like call of ass. Ass!” He keeps screaming ass until you see someone looking in the window, a concerned neighbor. The neighbor looks really confused, he’s filming himself pointing his asshole at an early 2000s Xbox game.

Then he ejects it and starts shoving the cd in his ass. Along with the candy, a VHS tape, some skittles and a piece of big league chew. This was disgusting. “Oh god.”

He rolls over, nauseous. “I’d rather-“ You hear a loud farting noise, but it sounds more like his intestines are caving in from rectal prolapse. “I’d rather get buttfucked by a donkey in front of a Taco Bell Bathroom than oh god-“ He heaves. You hear him start crying and the loudest, most disgusting noise I have ever heard. It sounded like a gopher being drowned in a mudslide. I swear to god, you see him projectile shoot diarrhea all over his game collection.

He shits on Mario. He shits on dr. Mario. He shits on starfox, Mr. Pibb, PacMan and even dig dug, that lovable dig dug. His diarrhea crashes all over Link, the F Zero cast and crew, Mr. Driller and even the eponymous Wiley Coyote. “I’D rather…-“ He continues trying to read his script. “Shove a tarantula in my asshole and have it lay eggs-“ He starts to cry. 600 spiders explode out of his rectum as you hear the pacman music play. “More like call of ass—call of ass- call 911” He starts to cry. His glasses are broken.

Shit is all over his trademark white shirt and pocket protector.

“Oh god.” He cries. “That’s my lung.” Indeed, James had shit out his lung. His intestines and blood are all over the game room, and he continues shitting, his skin starting to invert.

He was shitting himself inside out.

He screamed and cried “I’m the game nerd! The game nerd! This- asss! The game! Ass!” He just keeps screaming ass over and over now.

Then you see mike matei come in. He waltzes over to the camera.  “Enjoy the tack.” He whispers. Huh?

He’s dancing like a fucking sugar plum fairy. He doesn’t look human. He looks like a cardboard cut out, he’s ½ the width of a normal human. Very slender. Like an octopus. What the fuck. His pupils are pure white and he smiles at the camera.

I dropped my notepad on the floor. The taco bell catered lunch tumbled to the floor.

Mike’s eyes became slivered, like almonds. “He’s gonna take you back to the past.” He whispers a creepy whisper. Demon-like, in fact. He starts to sing the theme song while his childhood friend lay on the floor, shitting himself to death. He shits out the very VHs tape I was watching. That’s disgusting my hands were on that earlier.

The camera cuts to a graveyard that says “James Ruff!” What? This was a dog graveyard, a graveyard for dogs. Indeed, the cemetary was covered in paw prints. You just see mike matei smiling a demonic smile. He’s wearing a tuxedo in the foggy gravesite, and places Beggin Strips next to a ceremonial dog dish, bonemilk chew and dog utensils. Various poodles were forming a conga line around him.

I had had enough of this shit. “I have fleas” Mike Matei whispers, but I shut this goddamn nonsensical tape off. Someone- had attached a thumbtack to the “stop” button. I screamed as the tack penetrated my epidermis and sent blood spewing all over the P.I. office.

James Rolfe hasn’t made a single shit joke in years. Some say his friend buried him, and used a séance at a pet graveyard to reconstruct him out of dogs. Little known fact is that the show is filmed on top of a pet cemetery. I myself was fired for bleeding on evidence, and they said this wasn’t even my job, but I know what I saw. If you look carefully, James Rofle actually is made out of dogs. I know because I myself was the veterinarian the sewed him together, mouth to anus, like a human caterpillar. I’m just kidding.

Or am I? Am I just kidding.

I am.

Or am I? Am I? Disheveled.

And yeah, I reapplied to be a P.I. at a different firm, but they said “we don’t need another cock-sucking dick tracey wannabe” and abruptly slammed the phone into my face. Not hung up. They assaulted me with a phone. I wasn’t gonna put up with this anymore. I didn’t spend eight fucking years at P.I. school filming and recording people at the park to make less than minimum wage at a job where I wasn’t even technically employed! I had received a gift from mike matei in the mail, maybe a little “hush hush” gift. A Nintendo zapper! It looked like a real gun though! Cobain! I pointed it at my head and pulled the trigger.

Then I heard the tape in my head! Amazing the way technology is rapidly changing how we hear things. Indeed, there was some feedback loop, or maybe I just left the tape on. It was the ghost of James Ruff. He began to narrate, a disembodied ruff. “All video games are just trial by error. Are we rats in some experiment? Primordial physics of a bouncing ball, parallax scrolling and mode 7, but the barriers of your finger timing have trapped your penultimate consciousness into a single point of light that intermodally transfers your being into a small pixelated simulacrum of the original simulation. Are you you? Are you the video game? Or is something playing you? Are you the ultimate controller? I’m just dogs taped together and I recently shit my asshole out. But you’re dead now. Forever. 9/11 may or may not have been an inside job and Mike Matei is an alien, fuck you.” Mike Matei slowly morphed into a combination of George Bush and Jerry Seinfeld, or something. He smiled wide. And then I saw all of the lost episode characters in a reunion sequence, that’s right, this is the reunion sequence you’ve grown accustomed too. George Bush was there too, or was it George Jetson, that’s who I mean, the future guy. They were all in my head, rearranging the furniture.

GET OUT! I screamed, shaking my fist angrily. I punched myself square in the fucking temple, as lost episode characters began spilling out of my dislodged retina, hammer and anvil ear canal.

George Jetson was stealing my head chairs. “GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!” I screamed. It was James, James Rofle. That was it, the dog man, No I’m not the dog get off me, I’m a P.I.! A P.I! WHAT IS THAT LEASH no more padded cells-

Bacon’s in the fridge it whispers to me. Just give me my chairs back, and the ottoman Alfonz, I just want to sleep now, I’m not well whose doing the laundry no George, that’s my laundry. You mixed the pink in with the white now my clothes are pink, I can’t wear pink underwear.

Bob Saget walked in with a stethoscope. They’re putting chemciclas in the water no one will listen to. I did the government research chiclets are actually alien teeth they recolor so that they can poison you with the radiation. Skittles are made from baby skin, fluoride in the tap water is being used to channel your thoughts. Secret gremlins in underground tunnels and your father is an illegal immigrant. The chemcicals in th e water nobody listen to me the underground tunnels aliens with spongecake, 9/11, I know who killed tupac I told you George jetson no don’t give me that chocolate éclair he shoved pills in it- horse pills tranquilizers please don’t put me back in the washing machine I’ll be a good boy my ear chairs I told you I’m a p.i. the government no they said no I’m waldo I told you I was waldo. It was the doctor. I TOLD YOU it was the fucking doctor. Rocko’s modern life was a skeleton I’m trapped in nickelodeon it’s dr. robotnik, NO the chuck e. cheese characters are real DOG FACED SKIN WORN OUT SHOE, YES Thomas the tank engine has been threatening me, I don’t know how a train can threaten STOP making me repeat things. It seems today that all you see is human skin and movies and flesh and rolfeRHPPrjhfpppahrhhthhg.

The cheetahmen walked in. “Cowabunga dude!” They yelled. “Surf’s up!” They weren’t surfing though. “You beat the game!” They smiled. “The game of life!” They gave me a big thumbs-up, and the Nintendo seal of approval appeared in the corner of my eye, the outro music of blood pouring out of my temple.

Happy Halloween