CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Perfect Audience" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:01 The room was dark, the smoke clouds wafting up to obscure overheads that made the man's shiny face all the more noticeable. He was sweating heavily, stammering out the last few minutes of his set, as he told the crowd about an incident with his mother when he was 12. The audience, stoners and hipsters who had been drinking since noon, watched him like a bug under a microscope. They wanted to be interested in what they saw, but really they were just hoping he would burn up under the harsh overhead lights. At the end of the day, there's nothing better than watching a comedian crash spectacularly. I took a swig of my lukewarm beer and made notes in my notebook. I had been doing comedy for about a year, and doing comedy is like being in AA. The guys who've been doing it longer than you are always super smug about it, and they just tell you to keep

Starting point is 00:00:54 working the program, no matter how much you hate it. In this case, the program was a 15-minute set Randy, a five-year vet of the stage, had found me doing stand-up at my college. He said I had some talent, but suggested that I work on a 15-minute set until I knew it backwards and forwards. Once you know that set better than your own hand, then you can start adding new stuff. Six months later, and I've been doing the same set for nearly six months without fail. I felt that I knew it well, could have quoted it in my sleep, and I tried to add some new material time and time again.

Starting point is 00:01:34 The bits were snappy, the one-liners were delivered perfectly, and Randy had even said that some of my new stuff was good, though off script. I felt like my bits were topical without being inflammatory, and that my stories landed without being too long-winded. I wasn't ready for Comedy Central, but I was more than prepared for the little dive bars that seemed to be where I was still cutting my teeth. So, why was I only only?

Starting point is 00:01:59 receiving middling laughs. The guy on stage, I hadn't bothered to remember his name after I shook his hand, stumbled off the stage to some polite, if not strained, applause. He flopped onto the couch next to me, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Randy took the mic and started attempting to get the crowd excited for the next comedian. Randy was usually the emcee at these events. His reputation made over half a decade of funny, and the crowd always seemed to be glad to see him. He was building me up, getting the crowd hyped for my set, and, as he introduced

Starting point is 00:02:36 me, I stood up to scattered applause and made my way to the stage. I mounted the stage, appear in one hand and my notebook under my arm, and set up as the crowd murmured and coughed. I just adjusted the mic, dropping it a little from around these seven-foot-tall height, and the crowd seemed to find some amusement in this act. As I looked out over the crowd I could see many familiar faces sitting amongst the smoke and the smell of cheap beer The audience was almost always the same

Starting point is 00:03:08 The same barflies and regulars Who came to hear the same jokes repeatedly I was always happy to see them And their tip money at the end of the night But I remember wishing for some new blood Amongst the splattering of drunks and stoners Oh how the gods mocked me with their answers So, I'm pro guns, hold your booze.

Starting point is 00:03:31 A few half-hearted booze came for the crowd as though an answer. Someone online asked me the other day if that meant I would shoot a home invader, which it does, but as a comedian who works for tips, I don't usually have anything worth stealing, so it's not usually a problem. Some scattered laughs. Well, they always followed up by asking me, What, don't you value human life more than things?

Starting point is 00:03:56 Well, I tell them, clearly he valued my things more than his life, so I must have nicer things than I thought. Some half-hearted laughs greeted the end of my joke, but they were perfunctory at best. The crowd came in as I set up my next joke. Have you heard of this new paper made of elephant dung? Yeah, I kid you not, they take the dung, clean it, press it, clean it again, I hope. Through a process known only to the papermakers, they create an eco-friendly, paper that's safe of the environment. The crowd shuffled in as I set my punchline, and though I couldn't tell exactly how many

Starting point is 00:04:35 there were, it looked like at least 20 that filled into the back of the room. I couldn't tell if they sat down or not. The room seemed to get darker as they filled the space. They didn't move closer. They didn't feel the empty spaces left by the sparse crowd we had up front, and they just hovered near the back of the room in a cloud of strange silence. I paused a minute too long, realizing I was stretching my punchline out too long before continuing. It's like they say, isn't it?

Starting point is 00:05:05 One elephant's crap is another man's 50 shades of grey. The crowd actually laughed at that one. This joke was so ridiculous that it never failed to get laughs, but the group in the back burst into a sudden and immediate laughter. The laughter was sudden and unexpected. I saw people in the front jump a little as the 20 or so people. burst into spontaneous laughter very suddenly. I smiled a little, nodding

Starting point is 00:05:34 and asking if they liked that joke or something before continuing on with the next joke. The crowd of newcomers were definitely what we needed around here, and I rode the wave of the laughter into my next bit. You ever wonder why you never see any hipster necrophiliacs? The front row shook their heads, but the back continued to laugh mechanically.

Starting point is 00:05:56 Because they'd have to screw him before they got cool. The laughs from the front were more akin to groans as they accepted the corny joke, but the back of the house burst into the same mechanical laughter. I was energized. I was receiving what I thought was my do at long last. These people were eating up what I was putting down and it tempted me to do something I had been working on but hadn't brought out yet. So my mom called the other day and... The crowd in the back hadn't. stopped laughing though. They buzzed with this sort of constant, can laughter, as the others died down and waited for the next joke. Some had turned to look at the crowd behind them,

Starting point is 00:06:39 and I could see some of the other comedians looking at them with misgivings. Their laughter never changed, never rose or fell in volume, but kept chuckling out in that fake sitcom laughter you always hear on friends or how I met your mother. She lives in a small town, two stoplights, at Walmart, and they have a dog that's become sort of a... Sort of a... I was starting to lose my focus as the crowd kept laughing. They never tired and never stopped. And I could see one of the comedians getting up to go say something.

Starting point is 00:07:14 The audience wasn't watching me anymore. They were all crained around in their seats, looking at the crowd that chuggled on and on. The comedian, Mark, for sure I thought, walked towards the back. As he did, he was suddenly obscured by the smoky darkness that seemed unaffected by the murky overheads that flanked the stage. He stopped on the fringe, seemed to say something to them. He suddenly clapped his knees and began to bray the donkey laughter I had heard from the couch on many occasions. He laughed long and hard, joining the throng as his praise were lost amongst their grating mirth.

Starting point is 00:07:52 After a few seconds, his unique sound was lost amongst their glee. Town mascot, I continued as I tried to power through it. It sleeps in the middle of the road, people feed it and leave it water. They drive around it and bring it inside at night and everyone knows who he is and why is there. I was losing focus. I could see Randy approaching the stage, plucking in a mic so he could remind the crowd to keep it down and respect the comedians. And I hoped that this was some kind of prank. The laughter had been going for nearly two minutes now, and it was becoming abrasive.

Starting point is 00:08:32 I was no longer flattered. I was no longer heartened by the laughter. I was becoming creeped out. And if this was someone's idea of a joke, then it wasn't very funny. I heard the static when Randers' mic clicked in. Okay, people, let's remember to respect the comedians and keep our laughter to a respectable level, okay? The laughter continued uninterrupted. Eyes stood on the raised stage, looking out into the inky darkness and watching that chuckled tide.

Starting point is 00:09:07 They rumbled out their artificial laughter in the face of my confusion. Randy stood by the stage, eyes glaring at them, and when he set the mic down, I could hear the reverb as it made an angry sound. He set off for the back of the house, not a long walk. and when he got to the throng of people he started shouting at them to be quiet Randy had come to the same conclusion I had he thought this was a big joke a flash mob maybe even once set up by Mark

Starting point is 00:09:39 and he was not amused I watched from the stage as his shouts became a confused chuckle his chuckle became a guffor and then it was all over for poor Randy He stumbled into the mob, grinning and laughing, and his laughs was soon consumed by the tide of laughter. That was when they started moving forward. The crowd was up now, scent in danger, but the group blocked the exit.

Starting point is 00:10:12 They could do little but watch as the shuffling mass crept forward, seeming to float as they came, and swept slowly towards the crowd that had congregated close to the stage. Some drunk let fly with a pitcher of PBR, the pitcher spilling as it flew end over end, but if the crowd was slowed by the beer or the heavy glass vessel, they didn't show it. Another man charged at them, meaty fists raised, but fell to his knees, laughing before connecting with anything. The group rolled over him, and when they passed, he was no longer on the ground. The closer they got, the less I felt like I saw them. As the group began to chuckle, their knees shaking and the fists pounding their chests, the more my feet began driving towards the back of the stage.

Starting point is 00:11:03 The group was made of human-shaped creatures. Their features were dark and undulating, their mouths laughing, white teeth smiling, as their eyeless faces bobbed with mirthless laughter. Those who were absorbed by them were never seen again. Those who were absorbed by them never stopped laughing. When my back smacked against the wall, I knew I was out of places to retreat. The fabric curtain that covered the wall felt soft under my sweaty hands, and it was only then that I realized I was still holding the mic. I let it drop, the feedback yarking angrily,

Starting point is 00:11:41 but I hardly noticed amidst the din of emotionless laughter. The tone never rose, never fell, just remained as the same level of soulless noise as it drove ice-picks into my skull. I closed my eyes, sinking to my backside and covering my ears with my hands as the mask came up to the edge of the stage and attempted to mount it.

Starting point is 00:12:06 When the overhead lights hit it, the mass recoiled and the laughter sounded like tortured screams with a thin veneer of hilarity. It sounded like the laughter that comes creeping from the windows of an asylum. It sounded like the laughter. one hears in hell.

Starting point is 00:12:23 I closed my eyes and prepared to be consumed. I knew that I too would begin to chuckle any minute. I would be helpless to resist. I would simply start to chuckle, start to go for, and, before I knew it,

Starting point is 00:12:38 I would be running to them. I would gladly join the throng of laughing fools if it meant an end of this hell. I was standing alone outside the joke, and even now in my terror, I longed to be a part of it.

Starting point is 00:12:55 I don't know how long I sat there, with my hands over my ears. One minute, the world was a sea of robotic laughter. And the next, it was simply gone. I lifted my head to find the back room of the bar completely empty. The other three comedians, Mark, Randy, the audience, they were all gone. I was the only one left. the only one not laughing.

Starting point is 00:13:24 And when I left the bar, the owner watching me go with some confusion, I never came back again. I knew I couldn't stand at that stage again, not after what I'd seen, and I certainly couldn't tell jokes again as I thought about that grinning audience of living darkness. Turns out that was the first of many retreats that night.

Starting point is 00:13:49 Over the next few weeks, I saw the audience again and again. They were in the grocery store as I checked out. They were outside the bus as I rode it to work, standing outside the bus stop and looking at me with their eyeless faces. The night they were at the foot of my bed, I knew I had to leave. I packed up anything that mattered to me and got in my car and drove until I ran out of miles or ran out of money. Turns out, the money came first.

Starting point is 00:14:20 I ran out of gas next to a little motel that needed a desk clerk. I've been handing that desk for the last two years. I'm pretty good at my job. I make most guests laugh. I'm always at work on time since I live on the premises, and I can eat anything I want from the hotel kitchen as long as I don't go too crazy. I found friends in this little town.

Starting point is 00:14:44 Not the same as those I had, but they're good people. They tell me often that I should be a comedian. I tell them that in another life I was. When I go to sleep, I get to live that other life and listen to the chuckling crowd as it drags itself closer and closer to my stage. I always wake up before they get me. I hope they never do.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "The Perfect Audience" Creepypasta

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