First, sorry about being gone for over a year. I’ve been busy, and haven’t really had the impetus to do another Riff for a while. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve wanted to, it’s been at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t muster the energy to do it.
Second, the story arc, for the moment, is going on hiatus. It may be finished, or it may be dropped. Honestly not sure anyone cares, and I’m not sure I want to go back to it. We’ll see. Anyway, because of that, consider the next Riffs, unless stated otherwise, to be a soft reboot or just out of canon. Whatever makes you feel better.
Now that that’s out of the way, enjoy the Riff.
Dorkpool: You know what’s always fun?
Mirror: Do tell.
Dorkpool: Jeff the Killer knockoff stories.
Sylvia: You have a very warped definition of “fun.”
Dorkpool: Hey, there’s a certain kind of stupid unique to each story that’s fun to discover.
Sylvia: You’re drunk, aren’t you?
Dorkpool: Little bit, yeah.
Mirror: Is that why we’re Riffing a story called “Blue Eyes” that’s most likely a Jeff knockoff?
Dorkpool: No, it’s more because we’ve been gone a while and it’d be nice to come back with something we can knock out of the park, you know?
Mirror: Fair enough.
Dorkpool: Anyway, let’s get insulted and Riff this bitch.
"Loser!" "Idiot!" "Fat!" "Ugly!" "Kill yourself!"
Dorkpool: Meanwhile, on the YouTube comments section…
Shylee has heard it all. Ever since her mother has died her life hasn't been the same.
Mirror: I would say something about how you can already tell this is going to be a cliché story, but I think it’s more important that I ask what kind of name is Shylee?
Sylvia: I knew a girl in high school named Shylee.
Sylvia: Yeah. She was a bitch. She puked in my backpack after getting drunk.
Mirror: …how pleasant.
Her friends moved to different places, and her dad has become a raging alcoholic and drug addict. Her older sister has started doing cigarettes and pot, and her younger brother has become abusive, just like her dad. Shylee had to walk home from school everyday. But walking home came with a price...
Sylvia: Not even walking is safe from capitalism.
"Hey! Hey Shylee!" The local bully was here, right on time.
"Please, leave me alone." Shylee pleaded. She pleads everyday, but they never have mercy.
"No!" Said Marcel, and he pushed Shylee to the ground.
Dorkpool: Wait, the bully’s name is Marcel? What is he, a monkey?
All of Shylee's school stuff fell out and she tried to gather it all up. But Marcel stopped her by stomping on her hands and back. Shylee tried not to scream from the pain.
"It's my stuff now!" Marcel said, and he picked up everything she had - books, pencils, markers, etc.
Mirror: Wow, the remake of the mine song is pretty lame.
Shylee stayed on the ground, she knew she was about to get a beating. And sure enough she did. Marcel started kicking her and punching her until she started to cry.
"I knew I could break you," Marcel said. "Not so tough, huh?" Marcel walked away with all of Shylee's stuff.
Sylvia: (Narrator): He brought Shylee’s stuff to the Cliché Bully Bar, where he showed it off to Randy, Troy, Keith, and every bully from a Stephen King novel. They were all unimpressed.
When Shylee arrived home after limping for five blocks, she saw her father just sitting there drinking a beer.
"Hey dad." Shylee could barley speak, for Marcel damaged her windpipe a little. "What?" Her dad said, with his normal drunken stutter.
Dorkpool: Actually, it’s more a slur than a stutter.
Dorkpool: What? I know this stuff, and I want to be accurate.
"Just saying hi." Shylee said. Big mistake. Her saying that just made her father angry.
Mirror: DAD SMASH!
"You back talking me?" He asked.
"No." Shylee was suddenly scared, she really had to watch what she said around her father.
"Don't use that tone with me you brat! I will hurt you! Beat you into a bloody pulp!" Her father threw down the beer bottle, it breaking onto the hard wooden floor. He started to undo his belt.
All: WOAH! NOT COOL!
Sylvia: Please don’t make this an NSFW story…
"Come here! Now!" He was screaming and God knew why. Shylee was frightened by the force in his voice, and started to cry.
"Stop!" Her father screamed and went over to Shylee. He knocked her to the ground, and brought the belt down onto her back.
Shylee let out a scream of pain.
"Shut up!" Her father yelled, and whipped her on the back some more.
Mirror: (singing): Now whip it! Into shape! Shape it up! Get straight! Go forward! Move ahead! Try to detect it! It's not too late! To whip it! Whip it good!
Then he moved onto her face, whipping her against the face causing it to swell. After a few minutes he stopped, dropped the belt, and went to the fridge to get a bottle of liquor.
Shylee ran to her room before her dad gets mad again, and shut the door slowly and quietly. She shared a room with her sister, Melody, so the smell of cigarettes and pot filled her nose.
Sylvia: Wow, this reminds me of college.
Mirror: Your roommate smoked pot and cigarettes?
Sylvia: Yeah, sure, my roommate. Let’s go with that.
"Hey dork. What's up?" Melody asked.
Dorkpool: Um, hi?
"I just got a beating." Shylee said.
"Boo-hoo." Melody said, texting someone on her phone.
Shylee laid on her bed, thinking about what life would be like if her mom was still around.
Mirror: Knowing these kind of stories, she’d abuse her too.
"Why did mom have to die?" Shylee asked her sister.
"I don't know. Can we not talk about it?" It was a difficult subject for Shylee and her family to discuss, but she wanted to know why good people have to die.
Sylvia: For the plot.
Life isn't fair like that, Shylee thought.
The next day was a lot better for Shylee. It was a Saturday, so all she had to do was be in her room and leave only if it was absolutely necessary.
Dorkpool: I feel that.
She got up early enough to take a shower, but her brother Michael beat her there.
"Ha, beat you." Michael said.
Mirror: (Shylee): No, that was dad.
"Whatever." Shylee said, and went back to her room. Melody was in there talking to her boyfriend. Melody was talking way to loud, and Shylee knew it, but she didn't say anything. Eventually their father came in there, red faced with anger.
"You! Shut the hell up!" He had his belt in his hand ready to blow.
Sylvia: Can’t blow more than this story.
But he wasn't pointing at Melody, he was pointed at Shylee. He grabbed Shylee's wrist and began beating her arm, causing the sound to echo is the room. Melody just sat there watching him beat the hell out of Shylee.
"It wasn't me!" Shylee cried out, but her father wasn't listening he just kept beating her until she began crying loud. He stopped, and left the room.
Shylee noticed Melody looking at her. "What?" Shylee said. "You should feel horrible."
"Yeah? Well, I don't."
Dorkpool: (Melody): I know I should, but for the purposes of the plot I need to be a piece of shit. Nothing personal.
Melody said, and continued to talk on the phone. Shylee couldn't take it. She ran out of the room and into the kitchen where her dad, luckily, wasn't there.
Shylee grabbed a knife and went outside into the garage. She cuts herself all the time, but this time she made a fatal mistake.
Mirror: (Narrator): She left the stove on!
Shylee cut too deep into her wrist, causing her veins to leak out a load of blood. She sat on the ground, knowing there is no way to survive this. She has thought of death before, but she didn't have the nerve to do it. Shylee didn't even feel pain, but relaxation. Is this what her mother felt when she died of cancer? Shylee hoped so, she doesn't want her mom to feel pain. Shylee was fully relaxed, and her eyes got heavier and heavier. Warm blood leaked all over the floor, and Shylee died smiling knowing that she would finally be at peace.
Sylvia: Well, this was a quick and depressing story.
Dorkpool: There’s more.
Sylvia: Damn it.
Nobody threw a funeral for the death of Shylee Anderson. Nobody would have even came if there was one.
Because of all the pain that Shylee felt alive, she came back powerful and stronger than she was before.
Dorkpool: Because that makes sense.
"They must feel my pain." Shylee said as she awoke. She noticed that she has been dead for months, she died in March, and now it's June. Summer time.
Mirror: You can always tell it’s summer time by hearing Will Smith sing in the background.
"Bullies must die." Shylee said. She got up, she was against a tree, and walked into her house. It was dark outside, so she knew her family would be asleep. "Who do I kill first?" Shylee asked herself. "Dad!" She said, a little louder than anticipated. She crept slowly to her fathers room, clutching a knife in her hand. Her dad was still awake, sipping on a bottle of whiskey, getting wasted as normal.
"You're a disappoint." Shylee muttered to herself.
Sylvia: And the award for new stupid quote goes to…
She noticed something odd about her father... that he was crying. She followed his gaze to the pictures on the shelf of her, him and Shylee's mom and siblings all together. He kissed all the pictures one by one, until he came up upon the one with him and Shylee. He cried harder.
"So he does care?" Shylee said to herself. "Too little, too late!"
Dorkpool: Shylee describes the story’s character development very accurately.
She flung the door wide open, causing her dad to turn around dropping the picture of him and Shylee.
"You're just a bully!" Shylee screamed, and jumped on her dad cutting open his throat and watching all the blood pour over. Shylee picked up the picture that was now covered in her fathers blood. She remembered that day, when she was happy and with her father a good guy and her mother alive.
Mirror: (Narrator): Her brother and sister were still assholes though.
She felt someone staring at her, so she turned around and saw Michael standing there, frozen in shock and terror.
Shylee smiled. "You're just a bully, too." She said, and threw the knife at her brother and it impaled his heart instantly killing him.
Sylvia: Damn…girl’s got some good aim.
Shylee smiled and went over to her brother to receive the knife. She tugged the sharp, long blade out of his chest and went to her old room. Shylee opened the door and found her sister smoking pot right there on her bed. Melody quickly looked up at Shylee and jumped up out of bed.
Dorkpool: (Melody): Listen we’re in Colorado this is perfectly legal please don’t arrest me!
"Oh my God!" Melody said.
Shylee smiled, and lunged herself right at Melody, knocking the pipe full of pot right out of her hands and catching Melody's bed on fire.
Mirror: Blaze it.
"Damn it!" Melody yelled. Shylee was on top of Melody now, and sliced her neck open. Quick and clean.
Melody's blood was pouring all over the floor, and Shylee stood over her. "You're. Just. A. Bully!" Shylee shouted, and stomped her foot on Melody's neck, killing her instantly.
Sylvia: Wait, cutting open her throat didn’t immediately kill her?
Dorkpool: Out of everything that’s happened, that’s your question?
Shylee remembered the fire and escaped through the hallway and out the front door.
She ran quick into the night, her black hoodie and dark jeans blending with the night sky.
Dorkpool: Of course she has a hoodie.
Shylee ran all the way to Marcel's house, and broke through his bedroom window. Marcel awoke with a start, a looked at Shylee.
"Remember me, Marcel?" Shylee asked, smiling.
"S-Shylee?" Marcel stuttered.
Mirror: (Shylee): No, JOHN CENA!
Sylvia: You do realize that meme’s dead, right?
Mirror: I honestly don’t care.
"Correct. You know how you bullied and beat me? Well, it's my turn now!" Shylee jumped on Marcel's bed and slashed through his stomach. Shylee showed no mercy to him, and she stabbed him sixteen more times until Marcel's parents came through the door.
Marcel's dad had a gun, and he pointed directly at her. Shylee turned around, smiling, and said "What? He was a bully, he got what he deserved." As Marcel's dad shot the gun, Shylee jumped and escaped through the window.
Sylvia: (Narrator): Unfortunately, she still got shot in the ass.
Cops Note: Shylee Denae Anderson has been found guilty for many deaths. We don't know how this can be, for she died from suicide. Blood loss. We call her an Entity.
Dorkpool: (Cop): We think it’s stupid too, but it’s procedure.
We interviewed the parents of the boy that the Entity brutally murdered.
"She said he deserved this!" The mother explains. "Those....eyes! They just sucked you into a endless fear! They are blue and so beautiful, but they look at you like - like you're a meal! That you're something to eat! She has a bruise on her left eye, and a scar under her right eye. Brown hair.
Mirror: Well, now we know how she looks for the fanart.
She KILLED my son! Why? He didn't do anything!"
The mother then went into a tantrum and began screaming and yelling. We had to have security come and take her out.
From there and on we have had many others tell us about those eyes, and how bright and blue they were. She is now known as the killer Blue Eyes.
Sylvia: (Cop): We kind of suck at names.
Dorkpool: This story sucks.
Mirror: It’s honestly just a typical Jeff the Killer knockoff, or maybe Clockwork Lite, depending on how you look at it. You’ve got the unrepentant family and bullies who are unrelenting in their cruelty to the main character. You’ve got the underdeveloped main character who randomly turns into a killer. You got the dumb killer name, and, of course, a hoodie. Is there anything unique to this stupid? Yes. The first half is just a depressing look at a girl’s life, then it takes a right turn into stupidity when Shylee is resurrected and becomes a serial killer. Hell, even the writing got worse at that point, with more awkward grammar errors. The police note at the end was just laughable, and didn’t seem at all how a cop would write. Also, Shylee’s resurrection is poorly explained and her Blue Eyes moniker just seems tacked on. Seriously, at least “Clockwork: Your Time Is Up” foreshadowed the fact that Natalie would call herself Clockwork by mentioning time a lot. Here, Blue Eyes is just mentioned at the end, and only out of obligation.
Sylvia: It’s not all crap though. For a Jeff knockoff, the spelling and grammar is decent, if imperfect. And the first half, before Shylee becomes a zombie serial killer, is at least competent. And even when she starts killing, the story doesn’t go over the top with it. She just stabs folks and throws her knife in them. She doesn’t roll something over a victim causing their insides to explode out or something. The story itself doesn’t go too far in much of anything. The abuse is just physical and emotional, not sexual, and, as mentioned, the murders are pretty tame. The story isn’t very long either, and just sort of exists. It’s not the worst thing ever, but it’s far from the best.
Dorkpool: But that’s what we think. What do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do our return was disappoint? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.