CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "My friend's cat has very strange care instructions" Creepypasta

Episode Date: June 7, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Jeanius_Breiling: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm...Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

So, first off, let me say that there are two things in life that I am completely crazy about, cats and creepypastas. My friends like to call me the creepy cat lady. It's kind of funny because I've never owned a cat due to my mother's cat allergies, but that didn't start me from developing an obsession with all things feline. Every year since I was allowed to pick out my own costumes, I've been some sort of cat for Halloween. And ever since I discovered the world of creepypastas,

those costumes have gotten ever darker in nature. It's a fun combination really. Or at least it was, until my obsession clashed in my own real-life horror show. It all started when my friend, Ron, told me that his family was going to be out of town for a week during the summer, and they needed someone to house it. Okay, full disclosure here.

I've been secretly crushing a run since he started growing a beard about a year ago. He'd already had a nice bite. from years of playing lacrosse. But there are plenty of nice bodies to be seen at school. Like, so what? But that beard. So dark and silky under his sensitive green eyes. I kept wondering what it would feel like

he'd be pressed lips against mine. Not like I was ever likely to find out. The girls he goes for are popular, not weird like me. Still, the thought of gaining access to his most intimate space with nowhere round made me volunteer for the job before he had even explained

the entire situation. Well, you sure are eager, Ron said, before biting into his store-bought burrito. I never understood how he could eat those things, especially right before we were about to go grab some burgers with our other friends. Don't even get me started on how much I wished I could have his mentalism for a day. I'm not fat by any means, but I do have to watch my calories if I don't want to be a chubby kitty.

Yeah, well, who wouldn't want a whole house to themselves for a week? I said, I mean, it's different for you because you're about to go off to college anyway. But I've got another year before I have my own space. A week without my stupid brothers under me sounds like heaven on earth.

Good point, he said, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin. All right, just check to make sure it's all right with your folks and I'll let my mom know she can take down the ad in the paper. In the paper, I laughed. Don't you guys have access to the internet?

Well, you know old people. He shrugged. We still hide the spare key under a rock near a front door too. He rolled his eyes and popped the last bite of his burrito into his mouth. Anyway, the job should be easy. You know, water the plants, feed the aquarium fish, stuff like that. You can invite some of our friends over, but just make sure you leave no traces for my parents to find. Be noisy enough for the place not to seem abandoned, but quiet enough not to upset the neighbours.

I'll text you the Wi-Fi password and any other details you'll need. Oh, and the pool will be up and running by then So feel free to take a dip or whatever So I'm cool Hell yeah I said enthusiastically Sounds like my own little dream vacation Make sure to tell your parents

That I've babysat for most of my neighbourhood In case they need references The sound of approaching laughter drew my attention to two of our friends Heading over towards us Well, looks like the detention twins Have finally arrived I joked

I was admittedly reluctant to end my one-on-one time with Ron, but my stomach was totally ready for us to hit the burger joint. As I walked with my friends and listened to their excited chatter about the day, my mind did the waltz with heated dreams of a week spent in the place that Ron called home. The next few months went by fairly quickly, what, with so many activities going on at the end of school year, I attended my junior prom with a group of girls that didn't want to be attached to date, and we had a blast. I attended senior prom with my friend Jason, who has had a crush me like forever. I guess I'd been so busy obsessing of Aran that I missed Jason leaving his awkward

stage behind. With his brace has gone, and his blonde hair slicked back off his now clear forehead. I finally noticed how nice his blue eyes were, and how his dimples made his smile almost irresistible. Naturally, by the time it came for me to house it for Ron's family, I wasn't exactly excited about the job anymore. Still, I'd volunteered and they were going to pay me $200 for it, so I stuck to the original plan and headed over to the Rosewood section of town. Now, New Brisbane is a very nice town no matter where you live. There is no such thing as the wrong side of the tracks here. I mean, the area around Bainbridge Asylum can be pretty shady at times, but otherwise, New Brisbane is just an ideal place to live all round. But Rosewood is where all the hot shots in town live.

you know, politicians, multi-businessmen and whatnot. Ron's father made his fortune through ownership of a very successful fleet of car dealerships around the state. Their house was large but tasteful and had a look at sophistication that made me self-consciously remove the cattyers

from the top of my head as I approached the property. Not that it felt out of place there, but yeah, I kind of did. As expected, I found the spare key to the house under a rock near the front door. Unexpectedly, when I opened the door, I was greeted by a cat.

It was a beautiful, red-colored Somali cat with orange eyes, large ears and a well-groom bushy tail. It sat in front of the door, regal in its stature, expectation in its eyes as it stared at me. Any thoughts about not wanting to do this job immediately left my brain as I found a brand new reason to want to be there. I squealed in delight, barely. remembering to close the door behind me as I rushed to get the cat. I cooed at the kitty as I dropped the bags I'd brought with me and reached out to touch that glorious red fur. The cat slinked just out of reach of my hand and walked slowly away from me,

coyly looking over his shoulder at me as he did so. Ah, come here, kitty kitty, kitty, I called as I tried to catch hold of him. I just wanted to hold him and pet him and rub my face into his fur so badly. I called up short when I heard a loud noise just above my head, kind of like a thump, like what you might hear if someone fell out of bed on the floor above you. I stood, nervously chewing on my lip for a moment, trying to remember if Ron had said anyone would be visiting, or if he had mentioned having any large pets. Actually, the only pets he mentioned were having some fish in an iguana.

I knew iguanas could grow pretty big, so it was impossible that the noise had come from the reptile. I stood for a moment longer, wondering if I should go have a look. Hello? I called out, rather stupidly now that I think about it. The only response I got was in imploring me out from the cat I had been following. My tension drawn back to the cat, I shrugged and tried again to reach for it, only for it to dance just be on my reach once again. It moved in a way that suggested that I should go wherever it was trying to lead me. So, I finally gave up trying to pat and just continued walking behind it. The cat led me through several spacious living and dining areas and an impressive kitchen,

all dressed in redwood, marble and ceramic tile. The cat leapt under the marble top of the centre island and sat down in front of an envelope and a couple of handwritten notes. Is this what you want me to see, Kitty? I asked as I picked up the papers. I heard another thump overhead from the same direction. of the last one. I paused for a moment to listen for any other noises,

but there was nothing but silence, until the cat meowed and brought my attention back to the kitchen. I looked at the cat, who eyed me expecting me from where he sat. His totally unbothered demeanor made me feel like there really was nothing to worry about. I mean, if the noise didn't alarm the cat, it was probably because it wasn't out of the ordinary, right? All right, let me see, I said, examining the papers I picked up.

The envelope, as expected, held the $200 I was getting paid for sitting, plus a little extra in case I wanted to order out for dinner. The first note was a written thank you, plus a list of duties I was expected to carry out for the week. The second note, and this one made me laugh out loud, was the list of care instructions for the cat. The first item on the list said,

You must address the cat as Mr. Sox. he does not approve of being called by any other name, such as cat or kitty or pus-puss. Repeated infractions may result in dire consequences. I looks back at the cat, who still sat silently watching with his tail waving around lazily at his feet. Missed the socks, eh? I said, reaching over and finally scratching him gently behind his ear.

He purred and rubbed his head approvingly against my hand. That's a cute name. I promise I won't forget it, I could, continuing to stroke his luxurious fur. I went back to reading the list. There are several cuts of meat in the refrigerator. When Mr. Sox is hungry, open the refrigerator and allow him to choose the meat he wishes to eat. If nothing is to his liking, someone will arrive shortly to help you provide a suitable replacement meal. I stopped reading and looked dubiously at the refrigerator to my left.

It was one of those huge ones that had wooden doors that looked like they belonged in a barn. A pretty common style found in new Brisbane homes. I shook my head, chuckling and what had to be a joke. There was no way Ron's family would spoil a cat to that extent. Besides, who is supposed to just arrive to help feed a cat? I smirked lonely as I looked back down to read more of the list of requirements. Do not pet Mr. Sox's tail. He does not like it and will chew through.

your wrists until the offending hand is removed from your body. Should this occur, someone will arrive shortly to help you make amends. While this, it was getting a bit gruesome. I had to hand it to Ron. He had truly done a good job of making me feel welcome by welding together two of my biggest obsessions. It felt good to know that he cared enough to do this, even if I was officially over my crush. I stopped petting the cat and pulled out my phone to send Ron a quick text. telling him how much I appreciated his cursed rules cat prank, and how much I absolutely adored his cat. I returned my phone to my pocket and went back to the list.

If a child should arrive asking to play with Mr. Sox, ask them what game they wish to play. If it's hangman, allow the child to enter, but don't watch them play. If it's hide and seek, tell the child to go away and immediately close the door. Do not allow entrance if you value your safety. If it's Becaboo, leave the house at once and never return. If you should choose to stay, someone will arrive shortly to dispose of your remains.

This was getting pretty good, I thought. I had no idea Ron was into creepy bastards, but this was the work of someone who was at least familiar with them. Maybe a little heavy-handed, but it was still not too shabby. There was still more to the list, but I decided to see if there was anything good to snack under the cupboards before I continued. I wanted to sit down with some milk and maybe some cookies if they had them and get comfortable while I enjoyed Ron's attempts at creeping me out. I sat the pages back down on the counter in front of Mr. Sox, who was currently engaged in cleaning his coat and went to bathe the kitchen to hunt down some goodies. After a few minutes of rummaging, I hit the motherload of cookie supplies in a low cabinet near the fridge. I grabbed a plate and palled it up with one of each type of cookie I found, totaling 12 altogether.

I sat the plate down next to the creepy list, making the assumption that Mr. Sox would not be interested in cookies and went to the fridge to hopefully find some milk. When I opened the massive doors, I discovered the cuts of meat that had been mentioned in the care instructions of the cat. Only that I hadn't realized that those cuts would be human body parts, which took up several shelves and leaked blood all over everything else in the fridge. The smell that hit my nose Erased any thought that I might have Of the body parts being fake I slammed the fridge shot Just in time before violently spooned my breakfast

All over its doors Luckily for me, perhaps Since Mr. Sox probably wouldn't have found Vomick-covered meat to his liking With my empty stomach still painfully heaving I turned away and tried to get my wobbly legs To do something useful But I only managed to slip on my puke

and go down hard on one knee. My cell phone popped out of my pocket and clattered to the floor, landing screen-side up, that I could see that there was an incoming text from Ron. I scrambled over to the phone, hoping that I could call around for help or tell him off if this really turned out to be a stupid prank.

I logged the phone and read the text. Cursed rules. Is that one of your scary story things? Ha, very funny, creepy cat lady. Anyway, we don't have any cats. you didn't let in any strays, did you? My mom would have a real fit as you found out you let some ferville use her house

as litter box, lull. Hey, don't forget to feed my iguana. He's small, so you can carry him around the place if you want. Much cooler than a cat, for reals. Later. He's lying. Please let him be lying, I thought. I pressed the button that would call his number,

desperately wanting him to answer and tell me everything was fine. But, instead of dialing run up, my phone simply went dead. I frantically pushed at the power button and tapped at the screen, but it was like there was no battery. I cried out in frustration

I was about to throw my phone away from me, but then I thought better of it and returned it to my pocket. As carefully as I could, I got back to my feet and started shambling off in the direction of the callless phone I spotted on the other side of the kitchen.

I didn't know run cell number, but before I got to the phone, I heard the doorbell ringing. Mr. Sox perked up at the sound of the doorbell, ending his tongue bath and running excitedly over to me. He slinked his body around my feet once, and then started moving towards the front door, watching to make sure I followed.

I leant on after him, hoping that whoever was at the door would be able to help me. I swiped a dish towel on the way out of the kitchen to wipe away some of the vomit on my face and t-shirt. Funny how this seemed to matter to me at the time. The cat sat down at the entrance to the foyer and left me to walk the distance to the front door on my own. I looked warily towards the stairs as I passed,

remembering the thumping noise I'd heard upstairs earlier that had definitely not been a small iguana making those sounds. Finally, I got to the door end, without hesitation, opened it. Hi, said the pretty little redhead girl, standing on the opposite side of the door. Can I come in and play with Mr. socks, please? Play with...

Look, I really don't have time for this right now. I gotta find someone who could help me here. I looked around the child and spotted a man in a green suit at the other end of the walkway to the house. He was facing away from us and... Was he wearing the head of a cat costume? The ears on top of his furry grey head twitched about like they were real. But that just couldn't be.

I suddenly dreaded the thought of him turning around to look. at me. But I really want to play Hyde-Sieg, said the girl, bringing my attention back to her. I just stared at her for a moment, but then jumped back away from the door when I remembered the instructions on that list. What had it said about a child wanted to play with a cat? Hide-and-seek was one of the games right. What was I supposed to do?

Unfortunately for me, the girl must have taken my retreat as an invitation to come in, because she quickly ran into the foyer, causing Mr. Sox to takeoff running upstairs. The child ran to the foot of the stairs, then turned back to look at me. I'm going to look for Mr. Sox, she said. Her eyes, which had been a lovely shade of brown, turned into a cold and hateful black. Her sweet, innocent voice was now a deep, gravelly baritone, infused with evil intent. Don't try to find us. With that, her little legs carried a swift.

up the stairs and out of sight. Screw this, I thought. Screw this, I thought. I turned toward the front door, thinking that I'd just leave all this craziness behind. But the exit was blocked off by the man in the suit. I screamed as widely as I would have at any jump scare in a horror movie.

But, thankfully, the man continued to stand facing away from me. Before a good thing to do anything else, the door slammed shut between us. freeing me of the sight of the suited figure, but closing off the nearest means of escape. No, no, no, I cried, grabbing the door-nob and trying with all my might to get the door back open. It wouldn't budge.

Please, let me out, please, help! I yelled, bang my fists against the door. There was no response on the other side, and there was no help. The sound of the little girl giggling behind me caused me to spin around. My eyes wide with terror and my heart seemed to jump into my throat. But there was no one behind me at all and the house fell into silence. I just stood there for a while, not knowing what to do and being too scared to do anything else. After a while of nothing happening,

I was finally able to calm down a little and start thinking again. I decided that if this was truly some cursed rules mess that I'd gotten myself into, then I should probably go read the whole list and make sure I didn't worsen the situation. Cautiously, I tiptoed across the foyer and then dashed all the kitchen once it seemed that the coast was clear. At the entrance to the kitchen, I tipped over a tort wire that I hadn't noticed in my haste. My legs went weak with fear, and I immediately collapsed to the floor instead of trying to stare my feet. This turned out to be a good thing, because right after I fell, something big went whooshing over my head. I looked up and saw that it was a silver serving tray hanging by a rope from the ceiling.

What must have been, every sharp knife in the kitchen was attached to its front, stabbing out towards the kitchen entrance. I heard the little girl giggling again, though I didn't see her anywhere, and I wondered if this booby trap had somehow been her handiwork. Only after there was no more giggling did I. slowly and carefully crawl my way over to the island countertop, where I had left the care instructions. Once over to the island, I used a couple of the drawer handles to pull myself up. The plate of cookies still sat there, untouched, now with a tall glass of milk sitting beside it.

There was no way I was trusting that snack now, of course, especially now that the entire rest of the island was covered in active mousetraps. I could just see a tantalizing corn of the care instructions sticking out from beneath one of the traps, daring me to come get it. Once again, the giggling started up behind me, and this time I spun around with irritation. This bratty little demon child was really starting to tick me off. Jeez, would you just shut up? I yelled. Just shut the hell up. Surprisingly, this had the desired effect of ending the laughter. I nervously turn my attention back to the countertop, and then thought I saw an

easy solution to my current problem. I carefully picked up the plate of cookies and appended the treats all over the traps covering the list. Once all the snapping stopped, I brushed the traps out the way and snatched up the list of rules. I hurriedly sat down on the floor with my back, pressed to the island, hoping that this was a safe enough place to read. As I swept over the list, I noticed that something about it had changed. Before, the whole thing had been written in blue ink. Now, some of the words were written in red ink. The rule about the child coming over to play with Mr. Sox was now read. I suppose that was because I had broken the rule about not letting in the hide-and-seek player.

But further down the list, another rule I had yet to read was written in red. Always know Mr. Sox's location. If he goes missing long enough, someone will arrive shortly to help you find him. You may go missing as a result. I groaned in despair as I realized that now I had to go looking for Mr. Sox and that terrible little girl. After giving it some thought, I figured I should probably arm myself before I went looking for that little psycho. She was dangerous enough when I wasn't looking for her. I could only imagine that she would be even worse if I disobeyed a directive not to look for her and the cat.

Heart pounding hard in my chest, I got to my feet, pocketing the list and loving the list. around. The booby traps were gone. Nothing hung from the ceiling and no traps littered the island counter. I hoped that meant the game had changed now, that I was going to look for her, but I kept my guard up nonetheless. I crossed the kitchen to check the knife block by the sink, which appeared to have all its knives in place. I pulled out a butcher's knife and imagined plunging it into that demon child's heart. No way, not possible. I couldn't just stab someone, even if they were evil. I put the knife back and turned to look for something else.

I spotted an assortment of castine pans hanging against the wall above the counter where the cordless phone sat. As I approached the area, the phone began to ring. They were in caution to the wind, I ran over and snapped up the phone, slamming it to my ear and calling into it. Hello? Can you hear me? I really need help, responded aloe. wheezing voice. Whoever was on the line sounded old and weary, like death was only a few heartbeats away. Where is Mr. Sox? He asked.

I, uh, he's in the, uh, I mean, I stammered, not wanting to say that I didn't know where the cat was, but also being completely caught off guard by the question. I had expected a normal person to be in the line when I answered, but anyone asking about Mr. Sox couldn't be a normal person. Do you need help finding him? The ancient voice asked. No, I yelled frantically into the phone. You stay where you are.

I can find him myself. I pressed the button to end the call and threw the phone down on the counter, winting as I realized that I just admitted to me. not knowing where the cat was. Knowing that time was not on my side, I hurriedly grabbed a medium-sized cast iron off its hook and swung it around a few times. It had a good weight to it,

but it didn't feel too heavy for me to wield it as a weapon. Bracing myself to face the unknown, and took a deep breath and headed out of the kitchen toward the front of the house. Mr. Sox? I called out, looking about nervously as I stepped through the dining room. I thought I heard a faint meow.

So I called out again. Good boy, come on out, Mr. Sox. This time I heard the meow multiple times so that I was able to narrow the sound down to one location, the large walking closet beneath the stairs leading up to the second floor. Now standing in front of the closet door, I called out the cat's name one more time to be certain and was met with scratching sounds from inside.

Mr. Sox obviously wanted out of there. Still, tightly gripping the pan with both hands, I just stood there in fear for a moment, finding myself unable to even reach for the doorknob. A sudden sound of wheezing coming from the second floor pushed me into action. Holding the pan in my left hand, I quickly reach for the knob with my right hand and yanked the door open. Mr. Sox bolted out of the closet, ran past me and scrambled his way to the top of the grandfather clock nearby. He stood up there, arching and hissing in the direction of the door. the closet door. I looked back at the closet until the demon child standing before me,

her eyes as black as darkness encompassing the room behind her. She bared her shiny, razor-sharp, obsidian teeth at me, in an angry snarl and stunted feet in a childish tantrum. I told you not to look for us, she yelled in that deep, horrible voice that had no right coming out of a child's mouth. Then, springing forward like a venomous snake, she came at me with long black talons aiming for the throat. Without thinking, I took a back-ended swing at her with a cast iron pan, and, surprisingly, landed a solid hit square across her face. The girl crashed awkwardly to the floor, and then looked up at me with her hand pressed against

her cheek. That's not fair, she whined in a sweet little girl voice, her pretty brown eyes welling up with tears. I don't want to play anymore. I watched as a little girl got to her feet and walked unsteadily toward the front door. She was sobbing in earnest now, and for a moment, I found myself wondering what kind of monster I was to hit a poor little girl in the face with a frying pan. But then, I noticed that my cast iron skillet was bent in half.

Yeah, there was no innocent little girl leaving the house, and I was definitely lucky to be coming out of this nightmare playday unscathed. Once the child walked out and closed the door behind her I let out a sigh of relief and let the pan fall to the floor Once again the house was silent It wasn't long before Mr. Sox broke the silence Beckoning me with a plaintiff meow As soon as I got near enough to the clock

He jumped down to me And I barely reacted quickly enough to catch him in my arms He rubbed his forehead against my chin Then jumped down to the floor And rubbed his body against my legs before leading me once again toward the kitchen. This time he led me to a small corridor with a few doors just off the side of the kitchen.

He went over to one of the doors and started scratching at it, meowing to let me know he wanted to go in there. What now? I sighed, warily. You want to go hang out in another closet? Is that it? I got ready to open the door for the cat, figuring that I'd at least know where he was

and I could maybe have a moment to myself to figure things out. Something told me I should consult the list before I did anything else though. So I took it from my pocket and skimmed for anything that might pertain to the current situation. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it. Do not let Mr. Sox into the basement. You will regret having to go down to retrieve him.

If you do not retrieve him in a tiny fashion, someone will arrive shortly to retrieve him. of you. Mr. Sox, I said quietly. That's the basement door, isn't it? Mr. Sox turned away from the door, sat down and stared at me. All right, look, I said, squatting down in front of the cat and looking him in the eyes. What do you say?

We take a little break from all the excitement for a while. I can go clean up the mess I made in the kitchen and you can grab something to eat from the fridge. You, uh, I mean, uh, can grab some crackers or something to bunch on. I can change into some fresher clothes, and the two of us can sit on some comfy chair and do some reading together. That sound good to you? Mr. Sox walked over to me and rubbed up against me, purring as I stroked his soft fur. I was, of course, careful to avoid petting his tail. Then I followed him to the kitchen, where we took the first of our meals together.

I was able to stomach a few crackers and some warm ginger ale that I found in the pantry, but it was a bit of a battle. I just didn't want to upset the cat by refusing to eat near him or whatever. I think it'll be a long time before I'll ever feel comfortable around me to gain though. But I'm sure I'm ready to learn now. So, that all happened yesterday and things have been going okay since then. The rules are pretty easy to follow now that I know them all, and Mr. Sox is actually a really nice cat.

He stays near me as I take care of household chores, lets me carry him around in a side bag when I need to go out and curls up in my lap for a cat nap whenever I sit down to watch TV or do something at Ron's computer. Yes, I have internet and my phone works again, but the rules don't allow me to ask for outside help, so I'm just using them for the usual stuff. There's no chance that anyone who knows me will see this posted,

so this should be okay. I'm not posting here to ask for help. I just want people, even total strangers, to know about what's happening to me. It's hard not to let my friends know about this, especially Ron, since this is his freaking house. I've told my friends and my boyfriend not to come visit, making up some stupid excuse about wanting to find out who I really am through this week of isolation. Given how that sounds, they probably won't be terribly surprised when I come out of here and newly minted her before. I just couldn't risk having one of them show up and start breaking rules all over the place

or let him run know that I let a cat in the house. Anyway, at least I know this isn't some forever agreement. At the bottom of the list of rules, there was a final instruction that gave a time frame. In the morning of the seventh day, Mr. Sox will be returned to his owner. Do not accompany Mr. Sox to the front door when he is ready to leave. If you see whoever comes to retrieve him,

you will forfeit the use of your eyes. Payment for your service shall be left in the mailbox, for your convenience. Many thanks and sincerely yours. Mr. To Mr. Tobin, in case you happen to be hearing this, Mr. Sox is a very lovely cat. He really is. But please do not think of me again if he needs sitting, or at least let me know well in advance of the time so I can prepare. I'm assuming that you will pay me well for the trouble, but please make it in cash. I don't know if you had anything else in mind, but just know that money works for me. To anyone else out there hearing this, please, just be careful if you find a list of rules that seem out of place

or just plain ridiculous. Read all of the rules, and for your own safety, try not to break them. It really could mean the difference between life and death.