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Storytime

Copypasta of a person’s past experience or events that is so absurd it became a meme of its own. Usually untrue stories that tries to circle jerk opinions.


Rabies

    The rabies copypasta
    source
    Rabies. It's exceptionally common, but people just don't run into the animals that carry it often. Skunks especially, and bats.

Let me paint you a picture.

You go camping, and at midday you decide to take a nap in a nice little hammock. While sleeping, a tiny brown bat, in the "rage" stages of infection is fidgeting in broad daylight, uncomfortable, and thirsty (due to the hydrophobia) and you snort, startling him. He goes into attack mode.

Except you're asleep, and he's a little brown bat, so weighs around 6 grams. You don't even feel him land on your bare knee, and he starts to bite. His teeth are tiny. Hardly enough to even break the skin, but he does manage to give you the equivalent of a tiny scrape that goes completely unnoticed.

Rabies does not travel in your blood. In fact, a blood test won't even tell you if you've got it. (Antibody tests may be done, but are useless if you've ever been vaccinated.)

You wake up, none the wiser. If you notice anything at the bite site at all, you assume you just lightly scraped it on something.

The bomb has been lit, and your nervous system is the wick. The rabies will multiply along your nervous system, doing virtually no damage, and completely undetectable. You literally have NO symptoms.

It may be four days, it may be a year, but the camping trip is most likely long forgotten. Then one day your back starts to ache... Or maybe you get a slight headache?

At this point, you're already dead. There is no cure.

(The sole caveat to this is the Milwaukee Protocol, which leaves most patients dead anyway, and the survivors mentally disabled, and is seldom done).

There's no treatment. It has a 100% kill rate.

Absorb that. Not a single other virus on the planet has a 100% kill rate. Only rabies. And once you're symptomatic, it's over. You're dead.

So what does that look like?

Your headache turns into a fever, and a general feeling of being unwell. You're fidgety. Uncomfortable. And scared. As the virus that has taken its time getting into your brain finds a vast network of nerve endings, it begins to rapidly reproduce, starting at the base of your brain... Where your "pons" is located. This is the part of the brain that controls communication between the rest of the brain and body, as well as sleep cycles.

Next you become anxious. You still think you have only a mild fever, but suddenly you find yourself becoming scared, even horrified, and it doesn't occur to you that you don't know why. This is because the rabies is chewing up your amygdala.

As your cerebellum becomes hot with the virus, you begin to lose muscle coordination, and balance. You think maybe it's a good idea to go to the doctor now, but assuming a doctor is smart enough to even run the tests necessary in the few days you have left on the planet, odds are they'll only be able to tell your loved ones what you died of later.

You're twitchy, shaking, and scared. You have the normal fear of not knowing what's going on, but with the virus really fucking the amygdala this is amplified a hundred fold. It's around this time the hydrophobia starts.

You're horribly thirsty, you just want water. But you can't drink. Every time you do, your throat clamps shut and you vomit. This has become a legitimate, active fear of water. You're thirsty, but looking at a glass of water begins to make you gag, and shy back in fear. The contradiction is hard for your hot brain to see at this point. By now, the doctors will have to put you on IVs to keep you hydrated, but even that's futile. You were dead the second you had a headache.

You begin hearing things, or not hearing at all as your thalamus goes. You taste sounds, you see smells, everything starts feeling like the most horrifying acid trip anyone has ever been on. With your hippocampus long under attack, you're having trouble remembering things, especially family.

You're alone, hallucinating, thirsty, confused, and absolutely, undeniably terrified. Everything scares the literal shit out of you at this point. These strange people in lab coats. These strange people standing around your bed crying, who keep trying to get you "drink something" and crying. And it's only been about a week since that little headache that you've completely forgotten. Time means nothing to you anymore. Funny enough, you now know how the bat felt when he bit you.

Eventually, you slip into the "dumb rabies" phase. Your brain has started the process of shutting down. Too much of it has been turned to liquid virus. Your face droops. You drool. You're all but unaware of what's around you. A sudden noise or light might startle you, but for the most part, it's all you can do to just stare at the ground. You haven't really slept for about 72 hours.

Then you die. Always, you die.

And there's not one... fucking... thing... anyone can do for you.

Then there's the question of what to do with your corpse. I mean, sure, burying it is the right thing to do. But the fucking virus can survive in a corpse for years. You could kill every rabid animal on the planet today, and if two years from now, some moist, preserved, rotten hunk of used-to-be brain gets eaten by an animal, it starts all over.

So yeah, rabies scares the shit out of me. And it's fucking EVERYWHERE. (Source: Spent a lot of time working with rabies. Would still get my vaccinations if I could afford them.)

    My computer is more like a skinned man strapped into life support

      My PC is like a skinned man on life support copypasta
      source
      My desktop has the access panel and face panel removed. It somehow fixed a problem, so it stays that way. I've long since forgotten which cords do what, and I have a little plastic pig glued on top of the tower. Removing the pig is grounds for violence because it also somehow makes it work. I can't turn the computer off normally anymore, I have to power cycle it. It has long since stopped throwing error messages, which concerns me. It runs like a broken legged arthritic tortoise going uphill and I can't play anything newer that Attila Total War. I feel like a tech priest when it has a fit because it's like "beg it to work while tapping the case, if that fails, unplug it for 7 minutes, no more, no less, then plug it back in and wait."

My computer is more like a skinned man strapped into life support, desperately wishing for death, but always denied because his pain serves a greater purpose: porn

      I told a girl Dark Souls 2 is my favorite

        Dark souls 2 copypasta

        Its a parody of the Chinese “I told a girl I play DoT teams” in HSR but changed to Dark Souls 2.

        Recently, I talked to a girl about Dark Souls at a game conference, it did not go well.

She straight-up asked me: “Hey, which From Software title is your favorite?”

Upon hearing this question, my heart tightened, I began to have an intense panic attack and almost choked. So I gave my response: "Y-you know, the one that's kind of... peak? Has a plethora of bosses?"

Her eyes sparkled for a moment, and I caught a small flash of excitement. "Oh? You're into Elden Ring? I love Elden Ring."

I immediately tried to explain. "N-no. Wh-"

"Ah, then Dark Souls 1? That's a classic." "No, not that either—" “Dark Souls 3? Sekiro? Bloodborne?”

At this point, my head was already buried in my chest. I dared not even lift my head up, I was already sweating bullets, and the atmosphere was so awkward my twitching feet could almost penetrate a hole through the conference room flooring.

“You like Demon’s Souls? That’s pretty niche, but respectable.”

Her tone had shifted, and her gaze was one of pure astonishment.

Demon’s Souls? Who in this day and age still plays that? It’s the kind of game favored by those clinging to outdated gameplay, still overdosing on nostalgia for game design from decades past. Her pitying expression pierced through me like a soul spear cast from another zip code in the Shrine of Amana.

I felt my face fluster, my breath got heavy, and my head dazed. I tried my damned hardest to calm my quivering legs and clenched my teeth to say the words I was about to say next. This took the last of my strength: "Not that either!"

The words barely escaped my mouth, quieter than an uncaught exception. It was the loudest I could manage in that moment. I looked up at her face. Her expression had changed.

A dreadful silence fell between us. "Then... what game is your favorite? I thought those were all the main From Software releases."

Every single word she spoke struck me like Lenigrast’s smithing hammer striking to form blades. I was awestruck, my soul rended apart by the sharpness of her words. Then, I could hold it in no more. Along with my words, a few strong-willed yet aggrieved tears rolled out of the corner of my eye.

“Dark Souls 2. Dark Souls 2 is my favorite.”

When I said that name, the discussions around us stopped, leaving me to wallow in the silence between my occasional sniffles. Feeling the pitiful gaze from passersby around me. I held my face in my hands, I was too embarrassed to let anyone see my miserable state.

She turned to leave. At this point, tears already washed my face, I was on the floor, my two arms gripped on her ankles, and didn't dare let go. I was a clown to the people around me. The last words that I let out that day before being dragged out by the security and falling into unconsciousness were spoken at that very moment.

"So what if there’s adaptability? So what if there’s soul memory? It's not like it's dead! Someday, with Vendrick’s Blessing, it'll be respected again! From Software subreddits don’t understand everything!"

        HSR “DoT, I play DoT teams.”

          DoT in Honkai Star Rail
          source

          Its a story of a guy losing his date for playing Damage over Time (DoT) team in Honkai Star Rail. The original source is from a video description from Bilibili. It has been translated to English and used as a meme to poke fun at how weak DoT archetype is in the game. The meme is also known as “I told a girl I played DoT team”.

          Recently, I talked to a girl about HSR at a posh restaurant, it did not go well.

She straight up asked me:

"Hey, what kind of team do you play the most?"

Upon hearing this question, my heart tightened, I began to have an intense panic attack and almost choked. So I gave my response:

"Y'know, the one that got good recently?"

I could see it in her eyes, a small flash of excitement.

"Oh? Hyperbreak? I love hyperbreak."

I immediately tried to explain.
"N-no-"

"Then FUA? "

"Sorry, I-"

"Acheron? She's not bad."

"Also no..."

At this point, my head was already buried in my chest. I dared not even lift my head up, I was already sweating bullets, and the atmosphere was so awkward my twitching feet could almost penetrate a hole through the marble flooring.

"You play mono quantum? Then I'd agree it's pretty hard to say that so openly." Her expression was already that of astonishment.

In this day and age, those who would play 4 quantum are few in number. Either they still cling to old hopes and sometimes OD on copium, or they are deranged in the mind. Quite pitiful they are. I felt her empathetic gaze on my neck, it shook me intensely like the 50/50s I've lost to Welt Yang and Yanqing pulling for my characters. I felt my face fluster, my breath get heavy, and my head dazed. I tried my damned hardest to calm my quivering legs and clenched my teeth to say the words I was about to say next. This took the last of my strength:

"Not that either!"

These words were wilted when they came out of my mouth, it's no more audible than a needle falling to a dancefloor. Though, I promise this was the loudest that I could speak at that time. I looked up. her expression changed completely. There was a brief moment of dreadful silence.

"Then.... what team do you play? I thought the game only had these teams?"

Every single word she spoke struck me like hammers nailing down the last few pegs of the coffin to my weak heart. I was awestruck, my soul rended apart by the sharpness of her words. Then, I could hold it in no more. Along with my words, a few strong-willed yet aggrieved tears rolled out of the corner of my eye.

"DoT, I play DoT teams."

When I said that abbreviation, the discussions around us stopped, leaving me to wallop in the silence between my occasional sniffles. Feeling the pitiful gaze from passersby around me, I felt like an orphan dragging their disabled body to beg for spare change on the streets of Belobog. I held my face in my hands, I was too embarrassed to let anyone see my miserable state.

She turned to leave. At this point, tears already washed my face, I was on the floor, my two arms gripped on her ankles, and didn't dare let go. I was a clown to the people around me. The last words that I let out that day before being dragged out by the security and falling into unconsciousness were spoken at that very moment.

"So what my damage is low? It's not like it's unplayable! It will be good in the future! The devs will make a good environment and buffs for it."

          Original CN version from Bilibili

          source
          昨天跟初恋见面，她直接问我：“你星铁玩什么队？”我心中一紧，有些慌不择路：“就，就最近还行的那个。”女生眼神中流露出一点兴趣，问：“流萤超击破队？”我连忙低声解释：“不是。”“那一定是黄泉太后咯？”“不是......”“追击队么？那也还行呀？”女生兴致勃勃。“也不是，我......”坐立不安的我不敢抬头，与地面垂直的脚尖恨不得把地板凿穿。⁡“量子队吗？那确实有点不好开口......”女生表情讶异。这个年代，肯玩冷门弱势配队的玩家已经很少见了，他们不是游戏理解有问题，就是脑子有病，挺可怜的。感受到她向我投来的关切目光，我的身体像筛糠一般猛烈颤抖，我感到脸颊发烫，头晕目眩。汗流浃背的我死死按住哆嗦个不停的双腿，咬紧牙关，使出最后的力气从嗓子里挤出来几个字：“也，也不是！”⁡这声音尽管细弱蚊游，宛如一根针掉在嘈杂的舞池中，但我敢保证这已经是此时的我能喊出的最大音量了。随着这句话一出口，对面的女生瞬间变了脸色她仿佛是难以置信我刚才的话，表情肃穆，缓了半天才开口：“那你...玩的，是什么队？整个游戏好像就只有这些了吧？”女生这话里的一句一字都像是狠狠砸下的巨锤一般，一下又一下地夯击着我那脆弱的心灵。⁡我发愣在原地良久。被这句灵魂拷问摧残了良久。最终，我再也绷不住了，委屈的眼泪倔强地从眼角挤出：“我，我玩dot的......”一听到dot，原本略有喧闹的周围瞬间安静下来，只留下我接连抽鼻涕的呜咽声。感受到周围人向我投来怜悯的目光，像是看到一个身体残疾患有唐氏综合症的可怜孤儿在拖着羸弱的身躯沿街乞讨一般。让目光让我如芒在背，我死死捂着脸，低着头，不敢让别人看到我的狼狈模样。⁡此时的我已被泪水洗刷面庞，双手死死环抱住将要离去女孩的一条腿不肯松开，在围观的路人面前上演着一出精彩的闹剧，活像个小丑 m 。但我仍竭尽全力呐喊着，试图为自己辩解：“伤害只是低了点！又怎么样！又不是不能玩！未来会可期的！策划会给环境的！”

          I saw Nerissa at a local KFP store yesterday

            Nerissa copypasta from Hololive Advent

            From the video description of a Hololive EN video, its the Flying Lotus at a grocery store copypasta but changed to Nerissa from Hololive Advent.

            I saw Nerissa at a local KFP store yesterday. I told her how cool it was to meet her in person, but I didn’t want to be annoying and bother her and ask her to do "ara-aras" or anything.
She said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?”
I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but she kept cutting me off and going “Ope? Ope? Ope?” and unbuttoning her shirt in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my meal order, and I heard her starting to sniffle like a wet cat as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw her trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen hamburgers in her hands without paying.
The orange-haired girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Entschuldigen Sie, Ma'am, you need to pay for those first.” At first she kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter.
When she took one of the hamburgers and started scanning it multiple times, she stopped her and told her to remove the top bun from each individually “to prevent any culinary infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each burger and put them in a bag and started to say the price, she kept interrupting her by complaining about "how you cant get any Culvers here" really loudly.
            I saw Nerissa at a local KFP store yesterday. I told her how cool it was to meet her in person, but I didn’t want to be annoying and bother her and ask her to do "ara-aras" or anything. She said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but she kept cutting me off and going “Ope? Ope? Ope?” and unbuttoning her shirt in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my meal order, and I heard her starting to sniffle like a wet cat as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw her trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen hamburgers in her hands without paying. The orange-haired girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Entschuldigen Sie, Ma'am, you need to pay for those first.” At first she kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter. When she took one of the hamburgers and started scanning it multiple times, she stopped her and told her to remove the top bun from each individually “to prevent any culinary infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each burger and put them in a bag and started to say the price, she kept interrupting her by complaining about "how you cant get any Culvers here" really loudly.

            Challenged by a new girl at my BJJ gym

              BJJ aka Brazilian JiuJitsu
              source

              Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ) is a martial art that focuses on grappling and ground fighting.

              Last night, a new girl challenged me to grapple at the BJJ gym. I could tell immediately: she was a noob. It was one of those moments where I could sense her confidence, but she had no idea what she was about to face. I was just chilling, wiping down my gi and doing some light stretching (read: flexing my arms in the mirror), when this girl—let’s call her Amber - walks in with her friend. She looked like the type who thought she was a badass, like she’d been “training” for a few months and could take anyone on.

I was sitting there, the king of the mats, silently basking in the glow of my superior experience. But she had no clue. She looked at me, eyes full of that cocky energy, and said, "Hey, wanna roll?"

I could already tell, she thought I was just some guy here for “cardio.” What she didn’t know is that I’m a master of my art form. I’m like Scorpion of the Shirai Ryu—absolutely relentless, a perfect balance of calm and brutality. But in her mind? I was just some guy who probably didn't know a rear-naked choke from a guillotine.

Her friend, of course, was hyping her up, “I’ll bet 50 bucks she taps you out!”

I barely even looked up. “Double it,” I said, cool as ice. You can’t mess with a gigachad like me. I was about to demonstrate the power of true mastery.

I strutted over to the mats, slowly wiping the sweat off my brow, making sure she could see how effortlessly I moved. This was it. My time to shine. I had no doubt in my mind—i was going to break her.

She smiled, clearly thinking she had this in the bag. I could see it in her eyes: she didn’t respect my skill. But she would. Oh, she would.

We squared off, and I just waited. She shot for a sloppy takedown, full of desperation, probably trying to throw me off balance. But I saw it coming. Like the master I am, I pulled guard with perfect technique. I felt her body go stiff, like she had no idea what was happening. I had her trapped.

She tried to posture up, thinking she could shake me off. Big mistake. I smoothly transitioned into a sweep, flipping her onto her back. It was like I was in a different dimension, moving with the grace of a true artist. I knew what I was doing; she didn’t. I controlled the pace, every movement a calculated stroke of genius.

She tapped out almost immediately.

“First round’s mine,” I said, offering her a calm smile, as if I hadn’t just absolutely destroyed her.

Her friend looked disappointed, but she tried to mask it with a laugh. "Okay, okay, rematch!" Amber said, a bit more flustered this time. “Let’s go again.”

Round two? Same story. I dominated, I let her get in a few weak attempts, but they were all futile. The whole time, I could feel her panic rising. “You’re... you're too good," she stammered. But this wasn’t about skill for me. It was about absolutely asserting what a relentless warrior I am.

I caught her in a triangle and she tapped again. Clean. Effortless.

“You know, I really thought I’d do better,” she admitted, face flushed.

“Most people do,” I said, casually wiping sweat off my brow, like I wasn’t already three steps ahead of her.

Now, this is where I could’ve stopped. I could’ve been a gentleman and ended it there. But nah. She kept pushing, trying to pretend she wasn’t mentally broken. I could see the way she was looking at me: her eyes wide, like she was starting to understand that I was no ordinary grappler. I could feel the tension building.

At this point, I could tell she wasn’t just looking for a win. She was looking for more - maybe some validation, some hint of power, but she wasn’t going to get it. I was a master of my art form, a master of the mat.

She went for a single-leg takedown. She was desperate, but desperation is nothing in the face of true skill. I smoothly sprawled, trapped her, and before she knew it, I was on her back. I secured the choke with a precision that would make most BJJ black belts jealous. She tapped out again, completely powerless.

She wasn’t even mad anymore. She was impressed.

I took a long, deliberate sip from my water bottle, looking at her like I’d just shared some secret, ancient knowledge. “One more?” she asked, voice trembling. She wanted more.

I looked at her, and I could see she was hooked. She was learning. She was starting to appreciate the effortless mastery I exuded. "Sure,” I said, “But this will be the last one.”

I wasn’t just going to beat her. I was going to finish this with style. With flair.

I let her win the first round. Let her. She didn’t even know it, but it was part of my strategy. I was paying her back for her determination.

“0-1,” I said, my voice dripping with mock pity. "But don’t get too cocky.”

She looked at me, confused, as I casually set up my next move. I hit her with a clean sweep and transitioned straight into a mount. My knees locked in place like steel, and with a slight adjustment, I had her right where I wanted her. The choke was flawless.

Tap.

2-1.

I stood up, casually adjusting my gi, the ultimate gigachad victory. She stared up at me, breathless, probably wondering how she’d gotten so wrecked. She touched my arm as she stood up, feeling my massive bicep, looking at me with admiration—maybe something more, but I wasn’t there for that.

“Thanks for the roll,” I said, my voice calm and collected, like I had just finished a regular sparring session. “You’ve got potential, but you’re not there yet.”

She smiled weakly, and with a final glance at me, she left with her friend. I didn’t even care that I would never see her again. I was the master of my art form. My legacy was secured.

And she? She was just another girl who tried to challenge the gigachad.