Mirror: So why are you bringing all this up?
Dorkpool: Because apparently being nominated for PoTM doesn’t mean your story is good. Like the story we’re Riffing today, "The Plush Cat."
Mirror: What’s wrong with it?
Dorkpool: Well, let’s seem logic, and Riff this bitch!
It was just a normal day.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): Until the Fire Nation attacked…
I was in the Biology class and I was bored as fuck.
Of course, our teacher was very busy explaining all kinds of stuff and trying to revive our dying attention. Mr. Anderson was a very kind man.
Mirror: (Narrator): That’s why he had to die.
Since the 8th grade, he was the only teacher in that piece of shit school that I could’ve had a civilized conversation with and unlike many other teachers there, I felt like the guy loved what he was doing and actually enjoyed teaching us all kinds of worthless stuff.
Dorkpool: So he’s a math teacher?
During December, our school usually organizes a Winter themed exhibition in the Biology laboratory for all the little kids out there, which contains objects made by 5th graders like drawings and stuff like that.
We received so much stuff that year that half of the laboratory was occupied by it. I used to like activities like when I was younger, but as I grew up I wasn’t paying too much attention to Christmas anymore.
Mirror: (Narrator): The fact that I’m Jewish has something to do with it.
But right in that pile of worthless little objects, there was one tiny little thing that I noticed right away:
A small, white plush that kind of resembled a cat, having its eyes as black as the void and a pink scarf, just standing there and doing nothing. It looked cute, but what was the deal with those eyes? Couldn’t the kid who made it add some actually non-creepy looking eyes?
Dorkpool: If he or she did, then this wouldn’t be a Creepypasta story.
I ignored it and decided to go back to paying attention to our teacher who was obviously getting as bored as us. Just as I was about to collapse on the desk out of boringness, the bell rang and I was free like a bird.
Mirror: Yes, he was free like a bird, not free as a bird. There’s a difference.
"Remember guys, you have an important test on Friday."
"Sure, Mr. Anderson."
I grabbed my notebooks and put them in my backpack, ready to leave. Approaching the door, I saw a similar looking plush cat standing on a shelf, next to a bunch of papers. As I prepared to walk out of the class, I heard a bizzare murmur behind me.
Dorkpool: (Murmur): Coocoocachu, Colonel Sanders. I am Sgt. Walrus.
It sounded very strange, almost like a small kid who was struggling to utter a short intelligible sentence. I looked behind my back, and there was abosolutely nobody left in the laboratory, except for me and Mr. Anderson.
"Did you hear that?"
"That murmur. It sounded like a child's voice."
"Not at all. It probably came from outside the school. Maybe some kids are playing there.
Mirror: (Mr. Anderson): Or maybe it’s from the voices in your head. Are they telling you to burn down the school again?
You know, look at the windows. They are all open."
I decided that Mr. Anderson was right as his explanation seemed logic,
Dorkpool: It seemed logic, but was it logic?
and I said goodbye to him and left the classroom.
I arrived at my house some thirty minutes later, gave some food to my cat (yes, I actually had a cat) and stayed in my bed all day.
Mirror: (Narrator): I plotted the downfall of my school with my cat, Mr. Snuggles.
I was a generally lazy guy and only on special occasions I would do anything besides eating, sleeping, going to school, listening to music and of course, that activity that everyone who ever went to school hates, learning worthless information from various school books.
Dorkpool: That’s the activity at school everyone hates? I figured it’d be getting psychological scars from bullies that never heal. Go figure.
That day I did nothing important. But at approximately 18:00, something strange happened. I went to the kitchen to grab some food out of my fridge when I saw this:
Dorkpool: Shia LeBouf.
(Note: We don’t include pictures in the Riffs, and we won’t here. We will say that the picture is adorable.)
One of those plush cats that I saw at school hours before, standing there and doing nothing. Now wait a minute, what was that thing doing there? And more importantly, how did that thing get inside my house?
I grabbed it and threw it out the window. I thought that maybe my cousin Ian who visited me some days prior was behind this weird and not funny joke, but the next day after the Biology course I decided to approach Mr. Anderson and ask him about it, only to get this response:
"What cat Andy? I just checked the exhibition and there aren’t any cats like the one you described to me."
Both: DUN DUN DUNNN!
Surprised, I responded.
"What do you mean there were no cats? I saw two of them!"
Mr. Anderson remained calm.
Dorkpool: (Mr. Anderson): Andy, did you take you take your medication today?
"Andy, I assure you that I'm not lying. Look around."
I had to check for myself, and indeed, the cats were gone.
I apologized to Mr. Anderson and left.
When I got back home, I phoned Ian out of curiosity and he said that he didn't knew of anything like the object I described to him, and that the only object he brought with him during his last visit was his phone.
In the evening I locked all the doors and closed all the windows in my house thinking that there’s no way that thing would get in my kitchen again.
Mirror: (Narrator): That cat will never has my cheezburgers!
During the night, I usually let my cat stay in the kitchen (which is downstairs) and I sleep in my room situated upstairs next to the bathroom. In the last few weeks I had some very annoying insomnia problems, but for the first time in a month, I actually went to sleep right away. At around 3:00, I woke up because of some annoying sounds.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): Someone was playing "Friday."
I thought that the noises were coming from the kitchen, but they were sounding way too loud for that. I opened my eyes and looked around the room, only to see something unusual and creepy.
Mirror: (Narrator): The Tails Doll.
Dorkpool: No, he said creepy.
The same plush cat that haunted me recently was sitting there, staring at me. I jumped out of my bed heading for the desk.
As soon as I touched it, I felt a painful energy surging through my body that made my skin crawl, and a sentence echoing in my head.
Dorkpool: (Head Voice): Do you want to build a snowman?
Play with me.
I immediately dropped it on the floor and jumped back in my bed. My hand was still hurting a lot after touching that thing, and I went straight to the bathroom to cool it down with some cold water. After the pain went away, I decided to try to pick it up again using some tongs. It worked, and I took a small wooden box from a shelf, threw the cat into the box, and then grabbed a key and locked the damn thing in there.
I went outside the house and threw the box in a garbage can.
Mirror: He’s going to turn around, and that cat’s going to be behind him.
The rest of the night was fine, but I had to ask myself, what the fuck just happened? Was that thing haunted? Was it made by a child at all? Would it come back?
Dorkpool: To answer your question: A rehash of "Tails Doll", probably, doubt it, duh.
I decided to stop thinking about it, and I tried to live my life normally from that point on.
The next three days were normal, nothing unusual happened and I thought that everything was going to be alright, I was going to have an important test and I stopped thinking about the strange events that I mentioned above.
On Thursday I came back home and started to study for Mr. Anderson’s test, and I spent all day doing that.
Mirror: A teenager studying for a test? This story is completely unrealistic.
After I was done, I put the books on my desk and went to sleep.
The most strange event from that week’s circle of paranormal events was about to happen.
At some point during the night, I heard loud screams coming from downstairs.
That was it, if I saw that plush cat again, I was going to smack it around with a baseball bat and throw it in the local dumping ground afterwards.
Dorkpool: A most logic decision.
I picked up the baseball bat and descended the staircase, heading for the kitchen. I immediately turned on the light and I saw the most disturbing sight of my life:
Mirror: (Narrator): JeffxSlendy hentai!
My cat was laying in a pool of blood on the floor, with his guts cut wide open and head smashed to pieces. I ran outside the house looking for the killer, thinking that he quicky ran after his deed. However, seeing that nobody was there, I immediately tried to figure out some reasons that someone could’ve had for killing my cat.
Dorkpool: The guy from "They Hate Us And Want Us To Die" finally snapped.
Finding none, I remembered my bizzare experiences from the previous days right away.
I headed for the garbage can with a key in my hand and looked inside. The wooden box that I threw there was still intact. I took it out of the garbage can and opened it, already knowing what I was going to see:
The box was empty.
Mirror: Shyamalan twist!
In fear, I called Ian and told him the whole story. Even if he didn’t believe a word that I said, he accepted to let me sleep at his place that night.
I was a bit paranoid for about a month or so after the event, but the cat stopped its regular visits. I lived my life normally for about two years, without fear that I might see that thing ever again. I graduated from highschool, got a car,
Dorkpool: (Narrator): …accidentally got a girl pregnant…
and had serious plans to go to college. Everything seemed normal and I slowly forgot about the haunted plush and the bloody and bizzare murder of my cat.
But three nights ago something happened, and it reminded me of the terrible events that I've been struggling for months and months to forget.
Mirror: (Narrator): I saw a lolcats meme.
While I was in my bad trying to fall asleep, I heard a small child's voice trying to murmur an extremely familiar sentence. I opened my eyes in horror and looked around the room. Near the window, I saw two small black dots belonging to a small white figure.
Dorkpool: This story isn’t all that good.
Mirror: It’s basically the "Tails Doll" story, except with less Sonic and more cats. Why it was nominated for PoTM mystifies me, since besides the cliché premise, there are also a few typos here or there, like the "seemed logic" thing Dorkpool was harping on.
Dorkpool: Hey, it was funny.
Mirror: Somewhat. Also, there are a few more typos here or there, like a misspelling of "absolutely" and "quickly", some weird grammatical errors, that sort of thing. The main character can be kind of annoying, especially in his description of his school. He hates it to such a degree that is kind of borders on the unrealistic. That kind of description seems more in line with something a Jeff wannabe character would say about his/her school. Really, the story would’ve worked without the school bashing. Hell, it would’ve been better. Now, as for the cat itself, it honestly isn’t that scary. Actually, the picture (which we didn’t include. Sorry. We don’t really include pictures in the Riffs) is actually pretty adorable. So there went the scare factor.
Dorkpool: There are good things here. Despite those minor typos, for the most part, the spelling and grammar are good. Also, the main character does have some characterization (granted, most of it is "he hates school, likes one teacher, and cares about his cat", but it’s something). The story moves at a nice pace, and isn’t very long, which does work for it. This story isn’t the worst thing ever. Hell, it’s not even the worst story from the Creepypasta Wiki. It doesn’t, however, deserve to be a PoTM nomination. But that’s what we think. What do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish we’d be stalked by a plush cat? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
(By the way, if want a review of the story that’s a tad more in depth, check out AGrim’s review of it here: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/User:AGrimAuxiliatrix1/My_Critiques#.22The_Plush_Cat.22_Review_.28PotM_Nomination-_June_2015.29)
That fight had been fierce, but he had been winning. Or so he thought. Until they cheated, and took him.
He’d escaped, thankfully. Jeff had no idea what they were going to do to him, but he wasn’t sticking around to find out. Somehow, he’d woken up before they did anything, and just teleported out. Despite not being able to always control his power, it’d worked for him then, and since then he’d been on the run.
Despite taking him, they didn’t take his keepsake from the fight: the tongue of that annoying guy, that clown. While a somewhat gross trophy, having it made him happy. It showed that he was able to shut up that talkative clown.
That clown had helped reveal some things for Jeff. The truth of who he really was: a weapon, a weapon made to kill people, a weapon forced to kill brother.
Jeff was angry, and he was out for revenge. To this end, he started digging around, trying to find the remnants of this "Project" that made him who he was. He’d met an informant who promised to bring him someone from this Project. The informant told Jeff to meet him in a warehouse (abandoned, of course) at a certain time.
He is at said warehouse at said time. However, something is missing: the informant. Jeff is getting impatient, and is considering leaving, finding the informant, and killing the bastard.
This lasts until he hears a voice echo through the warehouse.
"So. You wish to meet someone from the Project?" it asks.
Jeff takes out his knife.
"Yes. And I want to kill him." Jeff responds.
From the shadows, a body is thrown. It lands in front of Jeff, who looks it over. It’s the body of the informant.
And before he can look up, he’s suddenly thrown back. He lands on his back, and his world is spinning. He sees a person walk near him, and look down on him.
This person wore black armor, and had a face like a skull. But the skull face didn’t seem…right. It almost seemed like-
A booted foot enters Jeff’s vision, and suddenly he sees no more.
Jeff never heard the person say, "Well, you found him."