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Written by the amazing doesntmatter, aka Schizmo.

CREEPYPASTA- Toe Jam and Earl -Are Real-

CREEPYPASTA- Toe Jam and Earl -Are Real-


Sometimes I just feel like a failure in real life, so I turned to the little-known escapist art known as the “video game.” What am I this week? A pirate? A dolphin? A furry blue hedgehog? Today I’m all-too-known alien rappers ToeJam and Earl, a game developed by Johnson Voorsanger Proctions and released the Sega Genesis console.

Something really, really weird and fucked up happened last time I played the game though. I initially found the cart when the local paper man threw it at my fucking head. “Extra Extra!” and he threw it at my head, weird thing was, it looked like no one was even riding the bicycle. I decided I was going to make myself a sandwich. As a former major league baseball player who still keeps several autographed bats of himself in his home, and I’m not talkin’ bout mammals of the order chiroptera, I was hungry. It was probably just my GameFly service. I subscribe to GameFly, a gaming service, but I never remember requesting this game. It was oddly titled, “ToeJam and Earl and Scabies.” Scabies? I never remembered scabies, from playing that game, game that I loved. After googling and finding out it was a serious dibalitating rash caused by a violent mite, I got disgusted… who would send me this game? I puked in my mouth a little, but swallowed it back down, as I had super Nintendo game to play. I tried shoving, and shoving, and breaking the Sness inserting this strangely shaped scart until I found out that this was a fucking Sega Genesis cart. Who the fuck owned a sega genesis? You did, if your parents didn’t love you. I started preparing my sandwich. After dozens of hours of googling and scouring ebay I found a sega genesis console with hot bacon and sour cream poured down the plug-pin connector hole, the dust cover covered in what looked like hot chili sauce that had decayed and scabbed over across decades. I also got scabies from touching, it but that’s a completely unrelated correlation. I shoved the game in against the player’s will in a very Ayn Rand fashion. I had a game to play and nobody, for the love of god, was going to stop me from it. The words “ToeJam is on vacation.” Appeared on the bottom of the screen. They were… aliens. I paused the game, as I was very hungry, and needed to prepare a sandwich. I got out the bread, sandwich meat, and other condiments, but then I saw a sandwich…in the game box. It…looked like a really tasty sandwich. Maybe it’s just me, but I really decided I wanted to eat that sandwich. I know what you’re thinking- don’t eat strange sandwiches. We all watched Mcgruff the crime dog. But this sandwich just looked delicious. Piping hot, fresh rye bread, warm melted melty cheddar cheese, and the most thinly sliced, robust meat ingredient you could ever think of. “Eat me…” a voice whispered. It wasn’t the sandwich. Sandwiches don’t talk. I picked up the smiling sandwich and brought it into the retro tv game room to enjoy my plate and my game cart. This…was a really delicious sandwich. Toejam looked really pissed off. Someone had drawn his sprite a little too explicitly. What was this- a bootleg of some sort? No, no. It was the official toe jam and earl video game scart. The planet he was wandering on looked more desolate, and instead of the pogo stick Earl had broken legs. The words “Toejam is a twizzler shoved up someone’s ass” appeared at the bottom of the screen, not very family friendly, to say the least. Instead of picking up spaceship parts, they were picking up pieces of someone’s fractured sanity. I know what you’re thinking- how do you draw someone’s sanity? Well, the first piece of the ship I picked up was a toilet paper roll with the words “help me I’m losing my mind” scraweled in a red-brown font. At first I thought it was a programming error, but then it occurred to me that it was scrawled in bodily fluids, including shit, blood piss and what I hoped to god was just vinegar. This was disgusting. I didn’t have a second player to play with so I tried using my feet to control earl. But I couldn’t control earl. I couldn’t control earl at all. Maybe it’s because I have diabetes, but the game was really starting to scare me. All of a sudden a voice screamed “Help me!” and the cart exploded. I took it out, blew on it and put it back in. I continued eating my strange sandwich. My strange, foreign, delicious sandwich. Instead of the game continuing, I instead saw an alien drawing of Will Smith. Will smith was drawn in highly graphic 16 bit detail, but it was just his head, and tiny alien legs and pincers were on the bottom. This was…disturbing. I was getting really, scared, like someone was watching me. I called the police and they said they weren’t going to come out for a Will Smith drawing and hung up. I decided to continue playing. Toejam and earl weren’t exploring some distant planet, they were exploring…earth. Yes it was clearly earth. The game took place on earth all along! I was really fucking enjoying this sandwich. If I could choose between a lifetime without sex and this sandwich, I would choose this sandwich. And I was never gonna have sex anyway (Saving myself for marriage, and I’m going to marry this sandwich). The meat was so good… I really, really fucking loved this sandwich. A lot of famous history figures appeared in the game instead of the normal enemies. I had to throw a tomato at Benjamin Franklin and beat grover Cleveland with a wire pipe. I suppose I would’ve paid more attention to the strange scart if I wasn’t seriously enjoying this sandwich. Seriously, this was the greatest sandwich I had ever tasted. The finest, finest aged cheddar, and the lettuce was sparkling a heavenly sparkle. Toejam was looking funky fresh with his double decker sunglasses and his funktastic eye-spectacles. Toe jam was gone though. Suddenly I tasted something odd. Something odd in my sandwich. It was a…funky smell. I took another bite, preoccupied with this excellent game. Suddenly the Will Smith graphic reappeared and started chasing Earl. The game cut to black and the cart exploded, caught fire, and it never worked again. “no one will ever believe you.” The sandwich…was talking. It had lips, lips of crust. Just my imagination, I had been playing toejam and earl all night. I called the fire department, but they said Will Smith cannot start fires, and hung up on me. My house was starting to burn down, and thankfully the big gulp I had drank earlier converted to piss, so I could piss on the Genesis. It didn’t cover the fire enough, and being that I had drank some gasoline earlier my piss was flammable and the fire shot straight up my urethra. I screamed in pain, fell over and started crying in pain. That was when my doorbell rang. It was… toe jam and earl. They were CG but in real life! Real life CG on my lawn! How can this be?! I looked around for a projector that could be playing toejam and earl, but they whispered, the twizzler-shaped googly eyed creep reached out a red tendril. “Friend. Friend of earth.” Aliens. In my fucking Home. At this time of year. In this galaxy, during the superbowl maybe!“Friend hello!” It waved a strange sigil over me, and I felt a calm and happiness I had never felt in my entire life. All of my pain and discomfort and the feeling that “this is all completely meaningless” vanished within seconds. Of course it all had meaning, everything has meaning if you mean it to! “Friend sandwich!” The alien stated. Fat Earl stood there, being fat, saying nothing. He revealed that he could stretch himself out, and entered my home through the kitchen pipes. Indeed, it was a delicious sandwich. I knew what I had to do. I just knew…what I had to do. “Swing away, Earl.” The sandwich whispered. I picked up a baseball bat and swung it with great fury at the twizzler-shaped CG man. It screamed in horror and fell over, bleeding, blood pouring from its one cracked porcelain googly eye, dripping viscous yellow and red fluid, screaming, as though the fires of hell were engulfing it, and it caught fire, and we were all on fire. “I challenge you to a rap battle-“ Toejam squeeked before falling over, dead. I took another bite of my fucking sandwich. This was MY FUCKING home. And MY FUCKING sandwich. That was when a tiny, 4x4 tin spaceship came down from the heavens, down, to my lawn, to me. It was an old-style spaceship, like the kind you’d see in the 1970s. The launch bay door opened, and a tiny English man in a puffy shirt waddled out. “I’m the earl of sandwich!” he declared. He looked disheveled as all hell, and his jewel-eyed miscreance revealed something that I didn’t want to know. “Whenever anyone dies they don’t actually die, since the early 17th century we’ve known that spirits end up on a far off distant planet, and they are resurrected, and that is me! The earl of sandwich English language!” He took out a boom box and started to rap, as Earl began to dance a shitty dance. “I’m the earl of sandwich and I put toe jam in your food! Now that toe jam is in your stomach and soon will enter your blood! One day soon, now or here in the future, Don’t eat a strange sandwich, or your coffin threads I’ll suture! You’ll be dead in a few hours from a poisonous, strange sandwich It wasn’t a dream you, you little bitch!” That wasn’t cheese. “No!” I screamed. Earl giggled,he was smoking a blunt, or marijuana. But it didn’t smell like marijuana. It smelled like hot steaming rotisserie chicken. “And be sure to See Toejam and Earl: the motion hologram, Saturnalia quintuplet, on the eighth solstice of vermillion 25, quadrant 7! His body suddenly became enveloped by hundreds of eyes, and even the eyes had eyes. The fire department and police finally arrived, but they weren’t from this planet. They weren’t from this planet at all. The earl of sandwich revealed to me that he could reverse digest carbon-based life through his anus and began consuming the bushes and foliage around my home. I just, looked down at my sandwich, just, that sandwich. Half eaten, and…ugh, I saw… A TOENAIL! IN THE SANDWICH!” I puked, I puked, I puked some more. The Earl of Sandwich had been telling the truth all along. And the earl of sandwich started devouring my puke with his anus, and that made me puke even more. Toejam got up, with a broken spine, and started to dance! I could hear cracking, as the dancing was breaking more twizbones, and Earl danced too! “Ooogie boogie boogie boogie!” They yelled. “Oh by the way you have scabies.” The Earl of Sandwich, Toejam, Earl, and the actual sandwich, said, laughing, and laughing, flying off into the pale moonlight, laughing, and laughing. Sarcoptes scabiei began feasting on my flesh. “Mmm, what a delicious sandwich!” They whispered, the millions of them, as my flesh began to look like swiss cheese, I realized, I should’ve bought a dreamcast instead.

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