Rural Evil Plague of Gripes
“Ever since Plague's Patreon has been going well, he's becoming more unstable and weirder.” — Pat

Rural Evil is a fan-created animation by Plague of Gripes. The video can be viewed here.

About Edit

Simple life. Lowly times. A tired but comforting refrain for a village, displaced from time and culture. It was here that the President's daughter awoke. Her fish. Sorry, I messed that up. It was here the the fish of the President's daughter awoke. Really, that relationship isn't even important, now that I think about it. I mean, it's just a fish. It having lived in the White House wasn't important.

The President's daughter had flushed it. Not even mistakenly. They just didn't have the time to upkeep an aquarium anymore. So it being related to the presidential family, well... It couldn't remember fifteen seconds prior, much less - look. Look, I guess that wasn't important.

The important thing is, a fish flowed forth from out of the sewage of that echelon, into the deltas of this isolated homestead. Some say it arrived, already a mutant. Others say it was the product of some dark pact, with the things that lie betwixt worlds. Others say a dolphin that had swam in radioactive waste had fucked its corpse like a fourteen year old's lotion-filled tubesock, like in that one video you've probably seen online, where it's just a shredded husk of a fish, but that dolphin is really going to town, and loving every minute of it and even looking in the camera like, "yeah, yeah this could be you, human; I don't even care."

Come to think of it, maybe this isn't that important either. Mermaids, all right? Somehow or another, from that fish, mermaids were born. Or they were always there, I don't know. How the fish got involved isn't clear anymore. What is clear is that in the swamplands of this seriously mysterious and not silly at all place, shit began to get seriously fucked up. More so. A midget built a castle, and also there was an asian lady in a red dress, even though she had an active job that didn't warrant it. And pretty boy haircuts were in vogue. Hell had stepped foot to earth, and the tree of evil had found a favored root.

They say the woods still stink of fish, and that kind of groinal scent a place might get if you have too much sex in the same place without taking steps to air the room out, because scented candles won't cover all that up. What creatures now reside there, in that land, escaped from time, none may say. Any who penetrate its barriers, are sucked deeper into its inner chambers, and gestate into something foul. And other sexual things. Despair, my friends, for the timeless land of weird sex things does not wait for wayward travelers. It is coming, for you.''

— Plague of Gripes

Gallery Edit

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