Dorkpool: Remember how last time I mentioned that the Creepypasta Wiki isn’t perfect?
Mirror: And the story you used to prove this ended up being deleted.
Dorkpool: Well, I don’t have that problem! Enter “The Magic Bag”.
Mirror: Considering that I know what happens in that story, I’m not sure if you’re being literal or not.
Dorkpool: Let’s just get stuff from a guy in a hood and Riff this bitch.
One day I was walking through the streets where there was a big festival going on.
Dorkpool: Not just any festival, but a big festival.
I was looking at all the stands looking for something interesting to buy and I eventually made it to the street where the festival ended. But then, I saw a stand; the stand was far from the others, but looked very interesting,
Mirror: (Narrator): …since it was covered in pentagrams.
so I walked over. At the stand there was a man who had a hood on which obstructed his face, and he was carrying many shiny bags.
Dorkpool: Yes, that’s it, trust the guy with the hood on. He’s totally trustworthy.
"Would you like to buy a bag?" he said.
"What's so special about these bags?" I asked.
Mirror: (Hood Guy): They’re handicapped.
The man then picked up one of the bags and began to fill it. He put some suitcases and boxes in the bag. This amazed me, as I wondered how he could fit so many things into such a small bag.
Dorkpool: He stole the bag from Hermione.
I wanted one of his bags now. I picked up one of the bags, and it felt warm like a warm sunny day; I really wanted it. I was about to ask how much the bag would cost, but the stand had vanished. I took the bag and began to walk home.
Mirror: (Narrator): And I considered none of this weird or suspicious or anything.
I quickly called over my friends and showed them the trick. They were amazed at how I fit suitcases and even chairs into the bag, which was no bigger than a coffee table. When my friends left, I placed the bag near my bedroom door and fell asleep. The next morning I woke up and found the bag right beside my head, which was weird because my bed is nowhere near the door.
Dorkpool: The bag is hungry.
I went into the bathroom to take a shower, and when I finished my shower, the bag was right outside the bathroom door.
Mirror: (Bag): I was watching you shower. It turned me on.
I was getting somewhat nervous but continued on with my morning. I went down to my kitchen and made some breakfast, but as I was eating, I heard a strange thumping noise coming from upstairs.
Mirror: (Narrator): My parents were making out again.
As soon as I got off my chair to see what was going on, the bag came tumbling down the stairs. At this point I was scared; someone must have been in my house. When I went upstairs I found nobody.
Dorkpool: Slender Man, stop trolling people.
Nothing happened then until I fell asleep. I had a dream where the bag was following me through my house. I ran into the bedroom, and the hooded man who sold me the bag was right in front of me. He reached for his hood and pulled it down, and I screamed.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): It was Oliver Queen!
His face was horribly decomposed, as if dead for years, maggots crawling freely through his face, chomping on the rotting flesh oozing with pus. He then said, in a low, demonic tone,
Mirror: (Guy): Know a good dermatologist?
"You wanted the bag."
I woke up after that. When I opened my door and the bag was outside, where it had stopped in my dream, I just wanted to get rid of it. I walked over to my friends house and gave him the bag, while telling him to burn it, or get rid of it somehow.
Dorkpool: Because it’s not like you could do it yourself or anything.
That was the last I ever saw of that horrible magic bag.
Mirror: Until the sequel: “The Magic Bag 2: The Quickening.”
END RIFF
Dorkpool: Like I said, the Creepypasta Wiki isn’t perfect, and this story shows why.
Mirror: Really? This one? Not any of the many other ones that suck?
Dorkpool: Well, those too, but the point is that this story isn’t very good.
Mirror: Well, yeah. The plot is silly and kind of clichéd, the character isn’t developed, and this story is riddled with clichés.
Dorkpool: I will give it this much: it’s mercifully short and has decent spelling and grammar. So it’s better than a lot of stories I’ve Riffed.
Mirror: “I’ve”?
Dorkpool: I’ve been doing this on my own long before I met you.
Mirror: Touché.
Dorkpool: Anyway, what do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish we’d be eaten by some bag? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
Mirror: And the story you used to prove this ended up being deleted.
Dorkpool: Well, I don’t have that problem! Enter “The Magic Bag”.
Mirror: Considering that I know what happens in that story, I’m not sure if you’re being literal or not.
Dorkpool: Let’s just get stuff from a guy in a hood and Riff this bitch.
One day I was walking through the streets where there was a big festival going on.
Dorkpool: Not just any festival, but a big festival.
I was looking at all the stands looking for something interesting to buy and I eventually made it to the street where the festival ended. But then, I saw a stand; the stand was far from the others, but looked very interesting,
Mirror: (Narrator): …since it was covered in pentagrams.
so I walked over. At the stand there was a man who had a hood on which obstructed his face, and he was carrying many shiny bags.
Dorkpool: Yes, that’s it, trust the guy with the hood on. He’s totally trustworthy.
"Would you like to buy a bag?" he said.
"What's so special about these bags?" I asked.
Mirror: (Hood Guy): They’re handicapped.
The man then picked up one of the bags and began to fill it. He put some suitcases and boxes in the bag. This amazed me, as I wondered how he could fit so many things into such a small bag.
Dorkpool: He stole the bag from Hermione.
I wanted one of his bags now. I picked up one of the bags, and it felt warm like a warm sunny day; I really wanted it. I was about to ask how much the bag would cost, but the stand had vanished. I took the bag and began to walk home.
Mirror: (Narrator): And I considered none of this weird or suspicious or anything.
I quickly called over my friends and showed them the trick. They were amazed at how I fit suitcases and even chairs into the bag, which was no bigger than a coffee table. When my friends left, I placed the bag near my bedroom door and fell asleep. The next morning I woke up and found the bag right beside my head, which was weird because my bed is nowhere near the door.
Dorkpool: The bag is hungry.
I went into the bathroom to take a shower, and when I finished my shower, the bag was right outside the bathroom door.
Mirror: (Bag): I was watching you shower. It turned me on.
I was getting somewhat nervous but continued on with my morning. I went down to my kitchen and made some breakfast, but as I was eating, I heard a strange thumping noise coming from upstairs.
Mirror: (Narrator): My parents were making out again.
As soon as I got off my chair to see what was going on, the bag came tumbling down the stairs. At this point I was scared; someone must have been in my house. When I went upstairs I found nobody.
Dorkpool: Slender Man, stop trolling people.
Nothing happened then until I fell asleep. I had a dream where the bag was following me through my house. I ran into the bedroom, and the hooded man who sold me the bag was right in front of me. He reached for his hood and pulled it down, and I screamed.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): It was Oliver Queen!
His face was horribly decomposed, as if dead for years, maggots crawling freely through his face, chomping on the rotting flesh oozing with pus. He then said, in a low, demonic tone,
Mirror: (Guy): Know a good dermatologist?
"You wanted the bag."
I woke up after that. When I opened my door and the bag was outside, where it had stopped in my dream, I just wanted to get rid of it. I walked over to my friends house and gave him the bag, while telling him to burn it, or get rid of it somehow.
Dorkpool: Because it’s not like you could do it yourself or anything.
That was the last I ever saw of that horrible magic bag.
Mirror: Until the sequel: “The Magic Bag 2: The Quickening.”
END RIFF
Dorkpool: Like I said, the Creepypasta Wiki isn’t perfect, and this story shows why.
Mirror: Really? This one? Not any of the many other ones that suck?
Dorkpool: Well, those too, but the point is that this story isn’t very good.
Mirror: Well, yeah. The plot is silly and kind of clichéd, the character isn’t developed, and this story is riddled with clichés.
Dorkpool: I will give it this much: it’s mercifully short and has decent spelling and grammar. So it’s better than a lot of stories I’ve Riffed.
Mirror: “I’ve”?
Dorkpool: I’ve been doing this on my own long before I met you.
Mirror: Touché.
Dorkpool: Anyway, what do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish we’d be eaten by some bag? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.