Project Nightshade:
The Potato Conspiracy

Day One: Witness to a terrible sight at the landfill. (MIB, torture, impossible things).

From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 7:43:05 PM
Ever since me and my father saw what we saw in that heap of garbage, I've taken this matter very seriously. Dead seriously. We were digging around for my school project on the effect of "disposable" items on landfills when we noticed a bunch of guys in black suits, which is weird because garbage men wear orange around here. "Who are they, dad?" "I don't know, son. They're men. In black." "They aren't in black, dad, they're in garbage." "Shut up, son. Listen!" We could hear them chanting softly in the night, so crept closer to investigate. They were surrounding a man bound to a chair. He was obviously freaked out and struggling. The men in garbage closed in around them, until we could only hear his muffled screams, and when they pulled back... The man in the chair was transformed. His lips were attached to his shoulder, an arm came out the top of his head, and just above his butt, we could see were a hatch was carved in his body. But when one of the men in garbage pulled off his arm and tried to attach it to his eye, I'd had enough. I rushed forward calling out, "Leave him alone you *********!" "There's nothing to see here," they said. "Just a Mr. Potato head action figure fun toy. Go home... or someone might discover a Mr. Potato Gothor." We ran. I mean, how'd they know my screen name?! It's really freaky. We went back to the scene the next day. There we found some partially covered pieces of plastic. White arms. Big red lips. Jolly eyes. It's all distractionary, just a cover-up to hide the truth. There IS no Mr. Potato Head. Only a man in a chair and a horrible secret that may never be known. I've been having strange dreams lately. Dreams that I wake up and my body parts are laid about me on a metal table. Men smelling of garbage surround me, muttering and arguing about where will go what. I try to scream, but I can't. Then I see why... I can't scream because they've got my mouth.
From: otacon 01 | Posted: 1/24/2003 7:46:23 PM
That is damn funny! I salute you! --- We are all on a Crusade. Some have yet to realize theirs.
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 7:56:02 PM
There's nothing funny about it, but I appreciate your salute. I think I'll need all the help I can get. This morning, I went to take out the trash (another garbage connection! Could it all be a coincidence?). As I turned to enter my house, I felt something under my tennis shoe. I lifted up my foot and to my horror, there was a little white arm! It's definately a warning. I know too much.
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 8:01:49 PM
Nothing makes sense anymore. I'm scared. Me and my father are stockpiling food and water, hoping to wait things our in Grandpa's old bomb shelter. That way they couldn't "deal" with us unless they brought in tanks, which would be too obvious. Unless they thought of contaminating our air supply. What's that hissing sound?
From: munky22 | Posted: 1/24/2003 8:22:07 PM
a computer in a bomb shelter? --- Right now I'm having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before. -Steven Wright
From: Pojo Da Chickan | Posted: 1/24/2003 8:22:39 PM
oops, I farted.. --- Greenday roXors j00 boXors!
Note from Thor
Chickan's fart joke was deleted, then several days later the moderator changed his decision. I guess moderators prefer fart jokes to conspiracy theories. Me, I prefer chicken farts to moderators.
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 8:39:12 PM
Of course there's a computer. I wouldn't go anywhere without a computer, especially a bomb shelter. Unfortunately, it's not just a way for me to expose their evil schemes, but also a way for them to contact me. They just sent me an email, I'll type it up as soon as I can, but Dad wants me to help stack cans of Pork and Beans.
From: otacon 01 | Posted: 1/24/2003 8:42:17 PM
Copy and Paste it. It is faster. I thought So was in trouble... -- We are all on a Crusade. Some have yet to realize theirs.
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 9:00:25 PM
Okay, this is the message I recieved. There was no return address and when I checked the full header, that was blank too. It's they've hacked directly into my computer. I don't have a firewall or anything. I should install ZoneAlarm or something, but as frightening as this letter was, I have the feeling that keeping contact will keep them happy, at least for a while longer. Anyway, here it is. "DO NOT SPEAK NOT SPEAK OF THINGS DO NOT SPEAK OF THE THINGS YOU SAW IN THE LANDFILL FILLED LAND WITH SPRINGS AND ROTTING PAPER DO NOT SPEAK OF THE MAN IN THE CHAIR BOUND IN THE CHAIR DO NOT SPEAK OR WE WILL TAKE YOUR MOUTH." There was an attachment, a .exe file. I thought about deleting it, but if they had wanted to erase the data on my computer they could have, so a virus wouldn't make any sense. When I ran the program, my screen went black except for the words, "OPEN THE CAN." I had no idea what they meant, then I remembered those cans of Pork and Beans I just stacked. I'll open it and tell you if anything's up.
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 9:18:35 PM
I held one up to my ear and shook the can of Pork and Beans. It sounded all wrong, like there was something... large stuffed inside. I grabbed a can opener and with shaking hands opened it. The sight of the contents made me feel dizzy and sick. For in the can was not pork and beans, but a potato, rotting and twisting in the can, the roots sprouting from it writhing as if they were alive. I dropped the can and ran to find my dad, who had a flashlight. Together we came back and looked under the desk. The thing was nowhere in sight. But there was a slimy trail leading from under the desk to the air vent, which was ripped to shreads. I could probably fit inside the ventilation system, I'm small enough. Dad doesn't want me to go, but the thought of that thing squirming through the bomb shelter ruined all feelings of safety we had. What do you guys think I should do?
From: T U S Valentine | Posted: 1/24/2003 9:19:31 PM
LOL
From: gothor | Posted: 1/24/2003 9:38:22 PM
The agents said "Mr. Potato Head". potatos, dirt, garbage, it's all tied together somehow. I have a few theories, about origin and decay, what they will do with our bodies when we die, the unspeakable monsters they will cultivate, but there's no time to explain. I can hear sounds echoing through the air vents, strange screams and thumps, sounds too loud for something of that size. I think it's growing. There's not much time. Dad gave me his flashlight and a french fry slicer. I'm going in.
From: Masamune111489 | Posted: 1/24/2003 10:53:21 PM
Oh man, my ribs are aching.
From: TheGoldenOne777 | Posted: 1/24/2003 11:36:15 PM
I think your a liar, period.

Project Nightshade \ Next

- Gothor out.

More stuff by J.R. Antrim.