You gotta fight for your right to party

Hey homies, merry fucking New Year to everybody. Sorry I ain't been around much recently, I know it must be hard to have to go so long without hearing my sexy voice through the monitor-text. But it seems that either the shit's hitting the fan or we're Just sitting back and watching paint dry, there is no in-between. What are you gonna do?

So it's 2012 now. End of the world's comin' and all the bullshit. Sweet, as long as it's awesome, I can get behind that. But anyway. I was invited to a New Year's Eve party hosted by what's his name, that Writer dude. I think. To be honest, it wasn't nearly as much fun as I had hoped. I learned something this weekend. Many of my coworkers are unpleasant people. Especially the new Morningstar, he's a real jackass. Much less classy than the original. Most of his squad too. That fucking clown especially is a real bitch. Not everybody was bad though. Nightscream was a great dude; together we got that party started right. And while I didn't have a chance to talk to 'em much, David and Rachael seemed to be thoroughly respectable folks.

Well, we might as well get on with what actually went down. I arrived a bit late, and as such there wasn't really much going on when I arrived. Can't have a party without the R-Man, you know. I think they just didn't know how to do shit right, it looked like tensions were high, but nobody was bleeding yet. So I decided to help get the ball rolling. After retrieving a bottle of the finest something-alcoholic-it-doesn't-really-matter from behind the bar, I went over and gave my good buddy Morningstar a hug. He looked like he needed one. Considering I was only trying to be nice, he was very rude and told me to go fuck myself with a chainsaw. Or something to that effect.

I decided to leave the asshole to his brooding and find somebody with whom I could have a decent chat without them getting their panties all in a bunch. I found a rather well-dressed fellow who turned out to be my good buddy Nightscream. He- err... she? It? was uh, very nice, very nice. A model Slendercorp employee, one whose behavior all should attempt to emulate. It was around here that Newstar started getting all pissy when Screamy (I really do need to think of something else to call 'em though) started making fun of how much of a pussified dick he is compared to his predecessor. Now this was what I had come to see, so naturally I made an attempt to help poke the bear. Also, David got tackled by a psychotic, tiny, Japanese schoolgirl. Or at least, that's what it looked like, so that's the story I'm going with.

Having finished my one bottle, I returned to the bar for another and took a seat. Morningstar then started getting all pissy about Rachael being invited to the party, complaining to that Joseph guy about it. Douche. I stole another bottle and sat next to Nightscream again. Valtiel and Joseph and Rachael were talking about something. I wasn't paying much attention to what exactly, but it was clear anyway that something was about to go down. Finally, damn. I began constructing an improvised incendiary device, you know, in case somebody needed a fire started. About here, Valtiel started burning Rachael and punched out Joseph's throat. Then David went over. Screamy thought it was time for shit to get interesting. I concurred.

Joseph and David (I think, maybe just one of them) did something weird to make Valtiel back off. Rachael pulled out a gun which she pointed at Newstar. Something weird happened and I'm really very confused as to what went down around this point. Nightscream disappeared somewhere, my incendiary device was gone (and sadly, didn't appear to have caught anything on fire), and I was fighting Gleeman. Fucking Joker-wannabe sprayed acid on me!! My trusty jacket blocked it of course, however this seems to have created a bit a er, problem. You see my jacket is very special. On the outside it may appear to be a simple leather jacket, but in reality, it is created with some of the same material as Tall Dark and Slender's suit. Or something similarly. Anyway, the bottom line is, my jacket possesses some odd dimensional features; the most useful of these being that the pockets are larger on the inside. Like a fucking TARDIS.

Anyway, I discovered that that shit really shouldn't be allowed to melt. It most especially won't be allowed to melt while you are still wearing it. Shit is now fused onto my arm it seems. It did not prevent me from winning my fight with Gleeman, however, as I successfully got a bullet or two in the fucker. He ignored them and continued fighting as if nothing had happened, but that is not the point. The point is, I fucking filled one of Newstar's minions full of holes! Mwhahahahahaha!!!1!1!!!1one!!!1

No, but I would've taken the fucker. If... something hadn't happened then that made all of our weapons disappear and shit. The barista did something. Or "Joseph" (I'm sorry, have I been doing that wrong all through here?). Didn't really catch it exactly, I was running at the time. Star's team wussed out then and left, as did Rachael. And really everyone that was still around was just going on about some shit or other, not really that interesting. So I decided to finish the night out with some light binge drinking. I awoke Monday morning on my mom's porch. Son of a bitch, that was certainly fun.

All in all, it was a damn good party. Though it could've been waaaay better. I'm going to suggest some improvements for next year. This year. Whatever.

So that's really it. Wanted to tell ya'll about the party, as I'm sure most of you out there didn't have time to party; what, with the Tall Guy being all on yo' asses and everything. But a happy new year to everyone. The Big Man is what brings us all together, and here's to many more joining our numbers in the new year. Cheers!

Stay frosty.

Your death black wings; Unfolding sleep

Madi, stop having a bitch fit. Doc's an old perv, yes, but he's an old perv with hon... he's got manne- well, he would never-

Fine. You're right, trying not to get raped is part of your training. Have fun. But c'mon, he's almost a hundred years old, you can take him. You stabbed that cult asshole, spilled that fucker's guts. I believe in yyyyoooouuuuu!!

Yeah, whatever.

So as some of my readers may have gathered, we once more have stuff happening. Sweet! you say, and damn right for it. Madi shall be taking a little vacation. Well, that's not really right. Iscariot wants her to train with Doktor Abendroth, the crazy old German asshole who posted on my blog way back sometime. He's really a good guy, I've known him for years. He and Archy fought each other back during the war... Possibly even the one in Germany and maybe actually in 1941, but with all the weird time-fuckery both of them get into, it's hard to say for sure. He was doing some work for my old boss, Mr. Jonas, when I met him.

Ah, Mr. Jonas, yes. That's why I'm here. What can I tell you all about him? Not much, really. He does... things. Illegal things, that much you can be sure of, and he is a very wanted man in several states. Including Canada. Or at least he was at one time. That was the work that Doc was doing for him, getting the fuzz off his ass. That sounded very wrong. Doc, like I said, fucks around with time a lot, he did some shit, Jonas became sort of a nonperson. Oh he had an identity, a nice dude who as far as anyone knew was not involved in any activities which would be frowned upon by the law, but the criminal lord Jonas wasn't nobody that ever existed. Or something like that. You get the idea.

Shit didn't turn out quite right though. Mr. Jonas had a bit of an accident. That's why he has spent the last five years here in a hospital hooked up to machines. I won't go into detail about that, other than to say that... uh, stuff happened and shit. Slenders was involved... I think. I recall meeting our tall friend around this time anyway. Jonas denies that there ever was a Tall Man, but he's a near-braindead cripple, who cares what he thinks?

After that, I joined the Slender crew. I could tell you more, but I'm not really feeling it at the moment. Maybe later.

I'm now back here where I am, and my old employer wants me to do him a solid. 'Cause I'm the best there is at what I do and what I do isn't wait I think I stole that from somebody, oh well, I probably killed 'em for the right to use it anyway. The point is I'm damn good. Konaa, you can just shut the fuck up laughing at me in your fucking grave. I could've gotten you, bitch. Rhodes is a whore. I'm getting off topic. The point is I'm FUCKING awesome. I do good work. I'm not going to tell you what work I'm doing, I'm just going to leave short sporadic updates on here to make you guess as to what's going on, so that you will pull out your hair trying to theorize what it is that I'm up to.

No, but serious like. I still got Hansel & Gretel up here with me, and soon my old homeboys from Massachusetts are gonna be comin' up to do stuff. I kind of forgot them after I was mysteriously moved from Maine to Indy, so I'm sure they're bored, they obviously haven't been doing jack shit since I left them. Bums. Come to think of it, I should probably look into how I ended up in Indy. That wasn't really explained was it?
Fuck it, it was like five months ago, does anybody even really care anymore?

we care very much ridley. don't leave us yet, dear boy.

So I gots my new team be gettin' together soon and shit, and then we're gonna go do some stuff. I'll keep you all posted. Don't worry, I promise not to be all cryptical bullshitty like I implied I would be. I love you guys, I wouldn't do that to you.

Also, Robert is a giant hot dog. I say we grill him up and eat him.

Stay frosty.

Good times, bad times; you know I've had my share

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I found my friends; they're in my head

So I'm sure y'all have seen my last post already. If you haven't, shame on you for not keeping up with my blog! As if anything in your own life could possibly be more interesting than what's going on in mine! I mean that's why blogging was invented in the first place, so that all you dull, uninteresting people can read about those of us with better lives. So quit jerking off to reality TV and read about some real reality. Real reality, heh.

I digress. So I'm sure y'all have seen my last post already. I think I kinda went a little batshit fucking crazy. Because Madi not only shot a police officer, she SHOT A POLICE OFFICER WHILE STANDING IN FULL VIEW OF ABOUT A HALF-DOZEN OTHER POLICE OFFICERS. Did I make that clear enough? Oh, but wait. I didn't get to the best part yet. She also GOT PHOTOGRAPHED BY THE FUCKING NEWSPAPER. That's right, now everyone in town can know what the cop-murdering bitch looks like. And of course there was that other gruesome scene only a few days ago. What was that again? Something about some teenager being ripped open and dumped on some other teenager's front step? Eh, it'll come to me eventually.

Anyway yeah, they're connecting her to that as well. Which I guess isn't technically incorrect. She is connected to it. But I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma about the whole thing. I mean I'm not really comfortable letting someone else take the credit for my work. Then again, I'm not really comfortable with the idea of prison and uninvited man-sex, either. I'm havin' a real problem with this whole thing, homies.

Then there's the fact that she claims she doesn't remember doing it at all. According to her, she fell asleep back in the hotel while I was on stake-out duty and woke up outside, well I'll get to that. I'm actually kind of inclined to believe her. Besides the obvious fact that even I'm not that fucking retarded, there's the fact that she just disappeared right in front of them. Uh, sorry, did I forget to mention that too? Yeah, someone shot back at her and she ran off with a couple cops in pursuit. They wind up in an alley, Madi runs through a door, which she closes behind her; the police come right up, open the door and find- a vast empty warehouse. All huge and open, echo-y and shit, so nowhere she could of hidden herself. She was just gone.

Of course when I became aware of the situation (which was about right when it happened... 'cause like I said, I was on stake-out duty) I went off after her, careful to remain hidden using my mysterious methods for remaining unseen by muggles. About an hour later I found her asleep a little ways outside town, next to some old barn. She claims she only remembers being at the hotel and then me waking her up next a barn outside of town. It sounds to me like the Empty City, but she couldn't have used it on her own. She's not technically a servant of TallDarkSlender, so by all rights the City should just eat her if she was by herself. Which would imply that one of the other entities was involved. How about that 'OBLIVION' fella, he seems to be able to do some wicked shit. I'm awfully suspicious of the fucker.

And now I'm stuck trying to figure out how to fix this. Let the good times roll.

Oh hey, y'all see Entry #49? Fuck yeah! Kralie might look like a real pussy, but I always knew he was a total badass! Blood and brains being beaten out, that's what I like to see. And he always threw the best damn parties, too. Shame he hasn't been around lately. Probably off getting drunk at the Ark, the lucky bastard.

Stay frosty, y'all.

EDIT: My my, how absent minded of me, I almost forgot about this little number that was left in the comments:

"So, how are you doing Mr. Chapman? Taking care of yourself, I hope? I thought I'd stop by for a visit. You're always extending an invitation for people to come see you, after all. We really must catch up, mustn't we?"

From our Crusader friend. How lovely. Bet you think you're real cute, don't you? I don't even wanna know how you found out that name. I can think of a few ways you could've done it, and most of them mean Imma have to kill you.

Okay, you caught me, I was gonna kill you anyway, but now I might have to stretch it out so I can enjoy it longer. If you really are in town, you'd better keep extra frosty asshole.

What the Hell?

So I called Coronado up after seeing that last post over on Time Bleeds. I mean, weird shit happening to us ain't unusual but somehow this just don't seem right. He sounded very distracted and he kept talking to someone else over there. Sounded like he was talking to some little kid or something, I don't know. Archy's been in the biz for such a long time, I suppose it was inevitable he'd start to crack eventually. Things that mortal creatures ain't supposed to see an' all that shit, y'know.

Now back to me. Still stuck in goddamn Boston and it's getting tiring. So Imma have to flush out these fools soon and get them back on the run and into someplace that I can take them out. I do believe I have something worked out, we'll have to see. Master wouldn't like it if I caused too big a commotion, mustn't draw attention to ourselves. But whatever, Master's been angry with me before, that ain't nothing new. I mean, I can't help it if I'm just damn good at what I do. Most a the time anyway. I still want my rematch with that pussy Konaa, but I guess I probably should let my leg heal up case he tries to drop shit on me again. Bitch.

I'm gonna go check on some shit. I think I know how to get these runners exactly where I want them.
Cheerio, stay frosty, and all that other shit.

Boston

Fuck Boston, man, this town is bullshit. My peeps have been hard at work trailing those two bastards for me. They're keepin' to public areas, crowded places. Mighty unsporting of them, isn't it? If this keeps up we may have to resort to some rather drastic measures to get them moving again... then again, I do have that nice sniper rifle I got from that soldier a while back, could just blow the fuckers away while safely on the rooftops. Heh, safe on the rooftops, stupid runners.

In the meantime I had decided to look up some pal of mine. Y'all know this guy, dontcha? Well, maybe you don't, but he's been fucking around tryin' to get all up in the Princess' business. I figured hey, I'm in Boston anyway, this son a bitch needs taught a lesson, and I need to hit someone. It's like God himself just handed me the perfect opportunity here. So I track him down, and this dumbass is nice enough to be walking around out in some empty construction zone so's we can conduct our business in private. I do love a team player. I call out to him and he turns around with the dumbest look on his face, asks me who I am. Well I'm all like, "Hey now dawg, you know me right, I mean I thought we were real close man. It's me, yo favorite frosty troll, Uncle Riddles. Now c'mon an gimme hug eh?"

Twas only tryin' to be friendly, y'know, but he just stands over there looking like a dumbass. Then he asks me about Storyboy's brother, an I'm just like shoot, I thought we got over this a long time ago peoples, really the little bitch was an irritation and was wasting good air. Whatever, let's move on. I told him how the situation was, the Master is an eternal creature, sometimes he gots to have some lovin'. You don't wanna get in the way of that do you, I mean c'mon on that's just rude. He gets all pissed off then and yells at me, says I should tell Archy to keep away from her. Yeah right. I reminded him then that, even if our glorious Boss, our ever-lovin' Mr. Slender cannot see him, I can still carve you up like a Christmas ham. I decided to be nice for once and make him an offer before I killed him. Come over an' join the party, bro.

He declined, of course, so I was left with no other option now but to go and fuck his shit up. Then he decides to comment about my jacket. I kindly responded by introducing his face to my fist. I follow up with a blow to the ribcage, then one to the stomach. Little pussy tries to hit me back, he ain't lyin' when he says he ain't no fighter. I pound on this asshole for a couple minutes and I'm starting to feel pretty good. All is right in the world, and the stress of work is just melting away. Then he has to be a dickhole and ruin it for me; must've put all his damn strength into that kick, and right on my kneecap too. He bolts into this warehouse nearby, I decide it's time to quit fuckin' around and just gut the loser.

So he actually stuck some shit in front of the door like that would stop me any, I get inside, I'm lookin around for him, and eventually I'm getting pretty tired of this little game of hide n seek. Then I hear this noise from up above and there's a damn crate falling on me. The little bitch knocked a crate over on top of me. Man, that shit probably weighed a few hundred pounds an' you just push it over on me. What the hell, bro? I thought we were cool. Well, it was kinda tight in there so's I couldn't really get completely outta the way and the damn thing just misses my head and comes down on my shoulder. Damn that's not fun, and I think I got shot there not too far back too. Thing's all broken, all outta place and stuff. Didn't even manage to catch the little pussy cause he booked on over to the train then.

So my weekend didn't exactly go as planned. Unfortunate, but whatever. I'm headin' into town later to have a little chat with my prey. Doc says I need to chill, but fuck that.

Stay frosty y'all. We're always watching.

Whassup y'all?

Those damn runners are slippery bitches, I'll give 'em that.


So what happens is, I track these bastards down to a hotel a little bit outside of Who-the-fuck-cares, Massachusetts. Did I spell that right? Eh, who cares. Lucky I was to be able catch them just before they were about to leave too. Keep in mind we is in some crap little hicktown in the middle of fucking nowhere so it's not like there's exactly... well, people around. So that's lucky y'know since I would have to catch 'em in the parking lot before they could reach their car. I tackled the dude to the ground and just about managed to slice open his throat when the sister smacks me with a tire iron. My fault for not thinking that bitch would try something, but she's never done anything before. Fuck that bitch.


Dave gets up and reaches for his gun, but no-no, can't allow that can we? Did I mention that I'm an expert knife-thrower? Well I'm not, but I can at least chuck one at a person and make it stick in their arm. Enough of a distraction to allow me to get to my feet and rush this nigga for a tackle. That's right, I said nigga. Twice now. Sissy tries to hit me with that tire iron again but hell, ain't nobody gets ol' Ridley with the same trick twice. Grabbed that thing and twisted it out of her grip, beaned her bro with it. Would've worked lovely had not the bastard, while momentarily surprised, had by this time removed my knife from his shoulder and promptly stabbed me with it as I conked him. Dammit, puttin' that bloody knife into my arm, that's just rude and unsanitary. Bitch. At least I hit him I guess, but the sonuvabutch moved over enough that I only glanced the side of his head. I hope that welt hurts like hell for the next few days. Until I find you again, you bitch.


So asshole-Dave was briefly incapacitated, to a small degree, might as well go in for the kill. Waitaminutenow, last time I forgot about our dear little sis I got a tire iron to the skull. That shit hurts. So where the fuck did she disappear to now? Well, I'm lookin' all over and I ain't seein' a sign of her. Too bad bitch, looks like sissy has left you to die. A smart move, even though I should inevitably catch up to her again. Dammit, these cocksuckers really piss me off. I get my gun out right, I'm about to shoot this bastard. Wait, what's that noise? Oh shit. I really should have remembered the fucking car. Sissy tries to run me down and naturally I get the fuck out of the way because, y'know, I can't fight a goddamn car. Well that's just plain fightin' dirty as far as I'm concerned and I will NOT be had in such a manner. She's helping her bro into the car now, I have a clear shot, so I take it. Excellent. Hit her the shoulder, she gets knocked back into the vehicle, smacks her head on the side of the car. Now to take car of asshole. What's this? He's got his gun now? No matter, he's still dizzy can't shoot a damn... well fuck.


So I jump out of the way, ain't a damn thing to take cover behind cause, we're in the middle of fucking nowhere and they were the only people at the hotel. I run towards the building, shooting behind me as a go, and duck around the corner. I hear him pull her back into the car and speed off. Shit. That was quite a disgraceful display if I do say so myself. So I went around back and stole the owner's car to chase after 'em. I think I deserve the car more than the owner anyway; apparently doesn't hear any of this shit goin' down right outside, but does hear his car start. Then he comes outside, with a shotgun, and shoots at me. In his car. Good thing the old bastard was an absolutely terrible shot, I mean how do you just completely miss a big ol' SUV with a shotgun?


Well, at any rate I appear to have lost my targets for the moment. No matter I'm pretty sure I know where they're headin'. Boston's a big place though, I may have to actually put an effort into finding 'em this time. Dammit, I hate real work. Oh well, I've got me some friends in Boston to help out. And in the meantime, I think I know what to do while I wait.


Stay frosty y'all. We're always watching.