It was a brisk September afternoon. T-Shirt weather, but with just a hint of chill. To put it in clearer terms, my nipples were erect, but only because it was cold. I was ordering a hotdog at the boardwalk, when it walked up behind me. I paid for the object made of questionable meats, and turned. And when I did, I dropped the hotdog down the front of my white shirt, thoroughly staining it. Whatever it was, it appeared to be male. He had a long, unkempt beard, which struck me as odd, considering he also appeared twelve. And he wore nothing but a speedo which bravely declared "Open For Business". I sensed it wasn't his. I tried to say something like "What in the actual hell", or "Mother of God, what is it?" What I actually said sounded more like "Whaddahurkkeeglybobreefer." It wasn't my fault. My lips ceased to move properly, and my brain couldn't function correctly. It seemed that all I could do was crap and cry. This seemed to anger it. He drew closer and stood over me, making rude gestures with his hands and speaking broken English, which, given my state, I could not decipher. I did, however, notice a tattoo that said "Magoo." So it had a name. After regaining my senses, I stood and looked at it again. It was saying things, and pointing to the beach. "All half under come wif me, u suk, but come wif me I show you, or not but fine." I stood in shock for a moment. I understood the words... But not the sentences as a whole. I must have hit my head when I fell. Still, he gestured to a spot under the board walk and dumbly I followed. When we got there, he began jumping up and down, declaring how tough he was, at least from what I could decipher, and pointing to the water. "Something in the water boy?" I asked him, gazing out. He nodded. "U is all talk but not action zeth, go out now, or don't, ur just troll, contemporary is a word I know." I shrugged. "If that's the way you feel." I turned to the water and started towards it, but I was stopped abruptly by the strangest sensation. It felt almost like I had been hit in the head. Yes... I do believe I had been hit in the head. I WAS falling. That settled it. And for a minute it was all very blurry. I will say however, things cleared up abruptly when I felt my clothing being removed. I opened my eyes wide as I saw him take off my shoes and put them on. The entire time all I could think was "NOT IN THE BUTT, NOT IN THE BUTT, NOT IN THE BUTT!" You would have thought the same. But I was relived to find he was only removing my clothing and putting it on. And then he hit me again, and I blacked out. When I awoke, I looked around. I was nude, except a blue speedo that read "Open For Business" on the front and "law 2016" on the back. I nearly choked on my own saliva. And I realized finally what it was. The Magoo was like that demon in It Follows, or Hillary Clinton. It manifested in a different body every time... Salty... Magoo... And now me... I was the next incarnation. I tried to scream out to the stars, but it came out as "NUUUUUUUUB!" And silently I cried. I was the next one. I couldn't even walk properly. My ass hurt, and I couldn't put two words together properly. Truly, there is no worse fate. If you see what once was an attractive man, stumbling alongside a road, wearing a tight blue speedo and a tattoo that looks like a banana, kill him. He feels nothing but pain. Kill him.
Stupid noob doesn't quite cover it. And if you educate yourself and look, you'll see I've made several threads like this. Running joke. #TheMoreYouKnow Also Minny... Don't pretend you've forgotten Mexico.