The Assmuncher

My roommate and I have some insane conversations late at nite. It always happens at the most inopportune times. Not the hour beforehand when we are both just farting around on the computer or doing whatever else. Its as soon as the lights get turned off and once of us is trying to sleep. In addition, it generally works out that at least one of us is on the verge of catatonic collapse.

One such nite a few weeks ago, we were talking about scary movies or something. I was explaining something that I feel like no one does but me, because whenever I say it people look at me like I am 4. Regardless of my mental age, I think it has more to do with the fact that NO ONE HAS ANY IMAGINATION ANYMORE.
Here's what I want you to do. Pretend for a second, that something in a scary movie, could and very well might be real. Take the chick from The Ring. Throw away the rational obvious knowledge that its not real for two minutes. Let your whole self be enveloped by the idea and situation. This is what I was telling my roommate.
And imagine, now, its the darkest part of the nite. Something wakes you up, you don't know what it is at first. You look over, and I am gone. My sheets are strewn askew and the bed is empty. Its silent for several seconds. Then, a bump. One single crash. You call my name, two, three times, and nothing. Then out of the shadows something comes. Its really low to the ground, crawling towards you, slowly. Creepily, of course.

Thus begins the legacy of the Assmuncher.

"Well what happened to you?"
"It killed me quickly, and dragged me out of the room."
"So now its gonna kill me too?"
"Well no, because you have already seen it. I was killed because I never saw it coming. You already saw it, so you get the daily special."
"And what's that, do I get raped or something?"
"pretty much."
"well that's boring, I mean right now its just another SVU episode really."
"and it's dick has giant spikes on it. all over"
...
...
"That's quite a situation, I don't think it could get any worse then that."
"and when the monster peaks, the spikes explode."
"well, that would do it."

from nzebula

It continued in this matter for a while, as we spun together the attributes of the worst monster this side of Rebecca Black. I don't know how we ever got to sleep that night. But somehow we did, because we awoke and talked again the next morning:
"Does your ass hurt today?"
"No, I feel fine. The Assmuncher didn't come last nite."

"That's weird though, we were talking about him for hours, what made him not come?"
"I don't know, we need to figure out why though I don't want him to visit again."
"There has to be some kind of trigger. Something we did differently yesterday that changed things."
"Yea, but what? It was a pretty normal evening besides that retarded conversation."
"I'm not sure, we will just have to keep thinking and figure out what happened."
"Wait. This is retarded why are we even talking about this at 745 in the morning?!"
"But Joey we have to find out what hap-"
"No this is stupid as hell, go to class."
Yea, because I'm really going to focus on polar coordinates when the ass muncher is on the loose.

Obviously I pursued the topic during our history class that we and some other friends all share together. Eventually, we figured out that because Joey attempted to play Justin Beiber's "Baby" on my guitar that night, it brought the Assmuncher's wrath upon us. Also, we have found out that the venom in its claws makes it so when it kills you, you wake up alive again the next morning, so the Assmuncher can torture you again and again each night. And if you catch him in the act as he is dragging me screaming from the room, you can say "Assmuncher no assmunching" to make him move on to the next room.

Everything seemed safe and sound, until we forgot after a few days. Because Joey has the musical taste of a preteen girl, he was still obsessed with Baby. Tired of hearing him torture the song by playing one outofkey chord every ten seconds, I played it for him. Then, an ominous wind blew open the door, to reveal the horrible stench of the Assmuncher. OR maybe that was just pot, because our floor is the Jersey Shore meets the circle from That 70's Show. But the point is, we realized now that one of us actually played Baby GOOD, that we were completely fucked.
Earlier in the day, I had taken a balloon from the dining hall. We came back to the room late afternoon, to discover the balloon floating, evilly, in front of our beds. And no joke, this is what we found:

Wait, what? Did Casper have a stroke or something? Wtf is that?

I wish I was joking guys. The Assmuncher revealed himself to us finally, and apparently his hard-on in the only thing keeping him from floating away. Although he definitely looks like a pedophile, I think all our hype may have inflated his head. I mean really, his story is hanging by a string. I think his opportunity to scare us has floated on by.

PS: this is all true. I didn't make an elaborate plot to set myself up to make some balloon puns.