CRAPPYPASTA

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Ya’know, That new kid, Jeff

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The bell rang. Finally! I never want to hear the word “equation” again! Math sucks, especially when it’s your last period. And it sucks when you sit in the back of the room, right by the new kid, who had an extremely white face, and weird eyes, and that huge mouth, and whats up with him always wearing a white sweatshirt? You can so tell the bloodstains are FAKE! Anyways,I walked to my locker, and, you’ll never guess what? Their was an empty locker right beside mine, and guess what certain guy, with a certain white sweatshirt, and a certain smile, got it? JEFF DID!! And his name, he doesn’t even look like a Jeff, he looks like a Charlie freakin’ Manson! He opened his locker. He just stood and stared in it. Like, he was looking in a vortex or something. I got my stuff and started to leave. But, I just had to look. When I was behind him, I looked in the locker. Their was a picture in the back. It was a picture of a family. Multiple pictures actually. Like, all covering up the back wall. And they all were scratched. Like, one was of this lady, like my moms age, and it looked like someone took a knife and scratched a huge “Jeff” smile on her. It was the same with the man, and what I’m guessing is a brother or a best friend. Just when I was going to look at another one, he slammed his locker shut, turned around faster then the speed of light, and stared at me. After about 7 seconds of awkward silence, he said “Its not polite to look at peoples stuff yo know.” And I did know. I also know I just spent this whole time ripping on this kid to you, and now I want to be his friend. So, without thinking, I just said it. “Hey, you know its Friday, their are going to be lots of people at the skating rink, if you wanna come,” I said. “Yeah, for one, I know its Friday, I’m not an idiot. And, lots of people? Sometimes I’m not good with people, but I’ll come, sure,” He said, then ran out the door.******* So at the skating rink, I barley even saw him. He was writing in a notebook and in and out of the bathroom a lot. Every time he came out, their were more bloodstains on the arms of his sweatshirt. I was positive he was cutting himself. I saw a glance in the book he was writing though. He wrote multiple names of people from our school. But mine, he had a smiley face beside mine. That was weird. But when skating ended, I was going to offer him a ride home, but he started walking, because I could see the bright white sweatshirt fading into the night******I was running through a forest. Going faster and faster. Their was a noise echoing in the trees. “Your running in circles. You made the wrong choice. Now you wont live to see the sunrise,” Jeff’s voice rang. Then he was in front of me. He had a huge knife in his hand. He was going to slice my neck. Just as the blade touched my neck, I woke up. I walked downstairs, and the first thing I see when I look at the newspaper is “2 Teens Tattered.” “Two 16 yr old’s were walking home after going to the skating rink last night, when they were sliced open with what appears to look like slices from a butcher knife. These kids were Jake Rhoster, and Clair Smith, both 16 year old’s who go to Jefferson high.” I knew those kids. They were in my grade. In my math class. With Jeff and I. Speaking of that, I saw them both saw that Jeff looked like a screwed up joker child. Maybe he… NO! He couldn’t have. I need to go on a walk. Yeah. That’s what I need. Fresh air, and no more murder stories. I took a walk. The park! That’s a fun place, birds and flowers and trees and butterflies!!So I took a walk down the gravel road. It has the prettiest landscapes. This is when I remembered my dream. I turned toward a tree. Their was a note stabbed on a tree with a butcher knife. It was a page from the book Jeff was writing in. It said “Jake and Clair” with a red pen mark sliced through their names. Then Jeff came out from behind the trees. “You should have just left me ALONE! You should have not looked in my locker! You know who those people were?” He asked angrily. I shook my head no. “My family. That I KILLED!” “No! I won’t believe it! I wont!” I yelled at him. “Oh yes! Those were the people in my locker. The pictures. Remember? Now, I have a question,” He answered, saying that last part like he never even admitted the thing he just said. “What is it?” I asked. “Its a yes or no question,” He said. “Alright, just ask me,” I said, getting impatient. “Do you want to live?” He asked. “Yes!” I said. Like, what kind of question is that. “Then join me,” He added. “What? NO!” I shouted. “Oh, that.. that’s terrible!” He said. “Why is that terrible?” I asked. “Because now you have to die. I know you saw my book, at the skating rink. The smiley face beside your name? Yeah, I put that there to ask you if you wanted to join me,” He said. No, no, no, no, no, NO! This is a dream. Another cruel dream. Another nightmare. I pinched my arm. Then I bit my thumb. SOMETHING had to wake me up. Then I looked up. It was the same scene as my dream. Except now, I’m not going to wake up when Jeff slices my neck open, I’m going to die, right here, right now. “HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!!” I shouted. “Shh, shh, no one can hear you Misty. We’re all alone,” Jeff said. Did I ever mention that my name was Misty? Well, it is. Now it happens, I think. And it does. He pulls me closer and closer with his eyes, and I don’t know how hes doing it. When I’m close enough he can touch me, he grabs my arm and pulls me in to him. Then, he slices my neck open.

******OPENING STORY FOR NEWSPAPER. GIRL FOUND DEAD IN PARK******
Like any other Sunday morning, Rylie Hapling and her boyfriend Caleb Young, both 24 years old, were taking a Sunday stroll through the park. They say they heard a female voice scream for help. “It said ‘Help Help, someone help me!’” Caleb said. They rushed to the noise, but it took them around 15 minutes to find the body. It was a young 16 year old girl, lying dead, her throat sliced open, again, with a butcher knife. She was holding a piece of paper in her hand. This paper had the names of the 2 teens who were slaughtered Friday, Clair Smith and Jake Rhoster, both names crossed out in red pen. Also, lying on her stomach, was another piece of paper, from the same notebook, with the young girl’s name on it, Misty Phelps, her name written with black pen and crossed out with red ink. The only difference, Misty Phelps’ name had a smiley face beside hers. There are no suspects to the killer.

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Ya'know, That new kid, Jeff, 3.0 out of 10 based on 18 ratings
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13 Comments

  1. Just stop.

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  2. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. STOP.

    Nobody wants to read about Jeff, nobody CARES about Jeff. Future writers, stop beating the same dead horse, over and over, and come up with some original fucking material.

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  3. This pasta would be awful even without Jeff, please stop..

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  4. This is how every jeff the killer story should go:

    “Just GO TO SLEEP!”
    *Withdraws shotgun (Most likely pacemaker)*
    “Bam!”
    *Shoots Jeff*

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  5. Here’s a hint, INCLUDING JEFF IN YOUR STORY WILL AUTOMATICALLY CONSTITUTE 1 STAR AND A DOWNVOTE! Or in some cases an even worse score like this: -10000/10 and five downvotes (sorry for the caps rage)

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  6. ******OPENING STORY FOR NEWSPAPER. GIRL FOUND DEAD IN PARK******

    This line highlights a major issue I have with loads of pastas.

    This modern day internet speak that people think is appropriate for a story. It’s not. It’s annoying and lazy. When these are placed it just tells me that the author is still in the planning stages of a pasta and have not truly bothered to produce any decent level of work.

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  7. this is horrible, you kept switching, it’s irritating, really, stop.
    and this is hurting my eyes, jeff is old and rusted up now. please stop using him in your stories.
    jesus.

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  8. and p.s, also, jeff works alone.

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  9. Self insert? Stop about Jeff. He’s not good now, he’s never been good… I’m actually concerned for kids now-a-days. What kind of a kid fantasizes about being with/being murdered by a crazy psycho ugly killer??

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  10. Gah. This pasta was terrible and all, but… as prosecuting attorney of the Court of Crap, there is something terribly, terribly wrong with this pasta!

    ‘There are no suspects to the killer.’

    Bullshit! The police could, even without knowing beforehand, know exactly who the kid was easily. Fingerprints would be left on the paper, the writing style could be traced easily, anyone with half a fucking brain would easily pin it on the obviously suspicious new kid-

    Wait.

    This is the *Dick County* police we’re talking about here, isn’t it.

    Well, that changes things.

    1/10!

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    • I like to think that Dick County police force has seven employees all of whom have an IQ so low that medical science barely considers them to be human.

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    • ***News Report***
      A strange but deadly disease by the name of “Jeffitus” has been spreading across Dick County. This infectious disease seems to take place in youth aged 2-9. Some common symptoms of this virus are:
      -Inability to write properly.
      -Speech slurs.
      -Random shouting.
      -Attraction to being murdered by serial killers.
      Recent events to stop this disease have proven useless.

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  11. The story was like this in my head, ” like oh my glob! This guys is like, toatz ma goatz pale and like FAKE blood on him!” “EH”

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