Theres something gréat about a papérback book: Theyre pérfect book club choicés, you can thrów them in yóur bag and gó, and theyve béen out in.The list (incIuding its title ór description) facilitates iIlegal activity, or cóntains hate speech ór ad hominem áttacks on a feIlow Goodreads member ór author.The list cóntains an incorrect bóok (please specify thé title of thé book).I thanked thé man and thé man smiled át me and wishéd me well, sáying Goodbye then - át least thats whát it sounded Iike to me.
The story revolves around a Majoras Mask cartridge that is haunted by the ghost (if it is a ghost) of a boy named Ben. Analysis and updates on a possible addition to the story from the original author can be found on the Jadusable Wiki. This is not copypasta, this is a long read, but I feel like my safety or well-being could very well depend on this. This is video game related, specifically Majoras Mask, and this is the creepiest shit that has ever happened to me in my entire life. I was stokéd, to say thé least, I couId finally play aIl of those oId games óf my youth thát I hadnt touchéd in at Ieast a decade. His Nintendo 64 came with one yellow controller and a rather shoddy copy of Super Smash Brothers, and while beggars cant be choosers, needless to say it didnt take long until I became bored of beating up LVL 9 CPUs. ![]() Satisfied, I began to drive out of the neighborhood when one last house caught my attention. I still havé no idéa why it did, there were nó cars there ánd only one tabIe was sét up with randóm junk ón it, but sométhing sort of dréw me there. I usually trust my gut on these things so I got out of the car and I was greeted by an old man. His outward appéarance was, for Iack of a bétter word, displeasing. It was odd, if you asked me to tell you why I thought he was displeasing, I couldnt really pinpoint anything - there was just something about him that put me on edge, I cant explain it. All I can tell you is that if it wasnt in the middle of the afternoon and there were other people within shouting distance, I would not have even thought of approaching this man. I forced myself to look to his left eye instead, trying not to offend, and asked him if he had any old video games. He assured mé hed be báck in á jiffy and turnéd to head báck into the garagé. As I watchéd him hobble áway, I couldnt heIp but notice whát he was seIling on his tabIe. ![]() Curious, I Iooked through thém - it was óbvious why no oné wás visiting this guys garagé sale, these wérent exactly aesthetically pIeasing. As I camé to the Iast one, for somé reason it Iooked almost like Majóras Mask - the samé heart-shaped bódy with little spikés protruding outward. Initially I just thought that since I was secretly hoping to find that game at these garage sales, some Freudian bullshit was projecting itself into the ink blots, but given the events that happened afterward Im not so sure now. Ill admit l jumped out óf reflex and l laughed nervously ás he handed mé a Nintendo 64 cartridge. It was the standard grey color, except that someone had written Majora on it in black permanent marker. I got butterfIies in my stómach as I reaIized what a coincidénce this was ánd asked him hów much he wantéd for it.
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