CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "They Never Stop Laughing" Creepypasta

Episode Date: July 29, 2020

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They never stopped laughing. When I was a kid, I was on this show called Jerry's Place. The show has basically been erased from public consciousness, so don't rack your brain if you can't remember it. We were working for a small Canadian studio, hoping to market the show to an American audience, but half of season one never even aired. The show followed a fairly typical formula.

There was a father and a mother character, wise yet silly parents who dispensed advice and hugs in equal parts an older teenage sibling who was a lou for Nancy but also brought over friends to add colour to a small cast and two younger siblings one of them very young and the other of around nine or ten who are there to make hijinks and generally move the story along the latter was my niche

I was the middle child and I was usually responsible for comic relief or having some part in the problem of the weak story. The two adult characters were Linda and Mike, and they were actually pretty cool too. Mike was a lifelong actor that had always had a word of advice or a smile if you were feeling scared. As someone who grew up without a father, Mike was the person I used as a model for what a man should be, though it's probably become intertwined with his character on the show to a certain

degree. Linda was great too, a mum with kids of her own who was always looking after us when we weren't shooting on set and making sure we got enough to eat. My own mother was working two jobs to keep the lights on at home, so there were evenings when I would join Linda and her family for dinner until my mom could pick me up. Linda and Mike were almost like surrogate parents for me during that year of my life, and Rachel and Mark became almost like adopted siblings. Rachel was the older sister, auntie and above it all on camera. But she was always very nice off-screen. Rachel would run lines with me when I was scared and always helped me when I needed something. She was actually 19, though she played a 16-year-old and on the nights

when Linda couldn't take me, I would hang out with Rachel until mom came to pick me up. Mark, the younger brother, was six and we weren't too far off an age really We had similar interests We would sit around between scenes And talk about ninja turtles or parrangers Or play Game Boy together In many ways

Those five people became family to me For that year and a half of my life It makes the rest of this story All the harder to tell It was a typical day of shooting We had finished what would have been season one and were shooting some scenes for season two. The network had been pleased with our viewership so far, so a second season seemed to be in the cards. With the second season though came a live studio audience.

This was the 90s and live studio audiences were all the rage. The first season had been live a few times for special episodes, but this season would have a live audience throughout. The presence of an audience was a bit distracting and often led to Mark and I playing it up a little to get their attention. We had been asked to ignore them, but we were young, and the laughter of the adults meant a lot to us. We were on episode 6 of Season 2 when they brought in a very different audience. I remember it perfectly. The event gouged into my mind surgically. We were setting up for the opening scene, when the stage door opened and a crowd of people filled in.

There were about 20 of them. Our audiences tend to be slow and I can remember not seeing any children or strollers as they filled into the dark rows of seats. Usually they brought the house lights up for this, allowing us to see the audience. But today, the crowd sat in shadow. Mark whispered to me about it,

saying they looked a little creepy all huddled up in the dark but I told him it was probably just something new the director was doing to make us ignore them we set up for the shot and I felt myself looking out to the crowd out of the corner of my eye

it wasn't that dark out there not really but the whole audience sat in a small sea of darkness that seemed to crowd around them they didn't talk they didn't shuffle they just hunched there and waited for us

to begin. We rolled the opening. Jerry's Place is filmed before a live studio audience and began. As Mike came on stage, the titular Jerry, I had expected the crowd to clap as they usually did when a character came on scene. They didn't, though. They just sat there and waited. The director looked back at them, but shrugged and whispered something to his assistant.

Mike looked out at the audience strangely too, but he was a pro and didn't let it mess him up. Linda and Rachel, Megan and Bonnie on the show, were watching TV as Mike walked in from the kitchen and delivered his lines. They queued Mark and I to run downstairs and begin the show's problem. A broken toy that was important to me. By the end of the show, Mark would have saved enough money to buy me a new one and I would learn a lesson about sharing, and everyone at home would feel warm and fuzzy as my brother and I hugged it out.

At least, that's how it should have gone. I came downstairs yelling about my toy, a model plane, and Mark was right behind me in typical little brother fashion. Mike looked at the plane and asked if I couldn't just use it like this. I hit my mark and prepared to deliver my character's catchphrase. Catchphrases were prominent in the 90s. They were also very marketable, and my catchphrase was supposed to elicit laughs from the audience. Until then, they had just been sitting quietly.

I wish they had stayed quiet. Play with a broken toy! That's going to be a deal breaker for me, Pops, I said, looking at the audience as I did so. That's when they started to laugh. I was expecting a chuckle, maybe even a full-fledged laugh or two, but the audience admitted that hearty,

can laughter that you hear on sitcoms when a real audience might be too much. Mike started to give his next line, but the audience just kept laughing. I looked at them, my face still holding that mischievous smile that I always did after my catchphrase and saw that the shadowy crowd was laughing

and heaving in unison. The shadowy mod was hitching and chuckling as one being, and as I watched, I felt my smile faltering. Mike tried to give his next line, but the laughter overtopped him. The director said something to his assistant, and the man brought out cardboard cards that read, Quiet, please. He held them high, right in front of the audience,

but the audience just kept laughing. Their laughter had begun to sound sick The longer they laughed The more painful and crazed it began to sound Someone in the crowd was clearly choking But they continued to laugh through it The laughter never rose or fell in volume Just the mad can laughter

I would become so familiar with later in life It was emotionless and inhuman And it just continued to pull pour out of them as they sat huddled in the shadows. The assistant shouted to the crowd then, the director calling for the cameras to be cut. One of the cameraman, I can't remember his name,

but he was always kind of a joker, turn his camera to film the crowd. Maybe he thought it would be great for a gag reel or something. Perhaps he thought that the studio was playing a joke on us, but whatever he was thinking, he had an excellent seat for what happened next. When the assistant's shouts failed to gain their attention, he walked into the seat and started yelling at the crowd.

That was when his angry shouts turned into underwhelmed laughs, and he too started chuckling. The director turned and started shouting at the crowd to be quiet, even as he shouted at his assistant to come down. By this point, we'd all started, milling about close to our marks so we could start again. I couldn't help but notice Rachel and Linda on the couch and how Linda had a protective arm around Rachel.

They looked scared, and despite being trained to stay close to our marks, I went over and sat with them, wanting to be in that protective bubble. A stage hand had gone into the audience to get the assistant back, but now he was sitting and chuckling right along with the rest. It was that same can laughter,

but it sounded like lunatics now. They were consistent, unchanging in pitch or fervor, and it was becoming too spooky for me. Mark came to sit down beside me as well, and I wrapped a brotherly arm around him, just as Linda had. I don't like this,

Mark cried as big tears rolled down his cheeks. They're scaring me. I told him that I was pretty scared too, and when Mike came up to put his hand on the back of the couch, I felt safe knowing he was there. As we sat, another stage hand went up. He grasped the first by the arm, pulling at him and trying to get him to leave. But soon, he too was laughing and grinning as he took a seat next to him.

The director forbade anyone else to go up after that. The crew sat huddled together on the edge of the seat as they tried to figure out what this was. They seemed to be a barrier between them and us. None of them came into our little circle of protection on the couch and none of us felt the need to go to them. The director sent a stage hand to get security after the third member of the crew joined them. The stagehand found the doors to be locked and none of his keys would open them. He came back white fan.

skirting the audience seat as though whatever they had might be airborne. The director sent someone to see the roof access was open, but they discovered the same thing. Keys didn't work, and the hatch was locked. Someone tried a landline in the back, but found no dull tone. This was before cell phone to become the norm, but the director had a bag phone that he tried. Same thing.

No doll phone. tone and no calls would go out. And all the while, they laughed. After an hour, they were still laughing. The director and some of the crew had broken the distance and came to sit around our couch. They brought items from the food service table over

and we all just kind of had a picnic. It would have been nice had the creepy laughing shadow people not been staring at us the whole time. As we ate, I noticed that some of the crew had stayed away and seemed to be eating on the set's outskirts. They kept looking at the crowd. Some of them were staring, and when I asked the director about them, he shook his head. One of them claims that his father is sitting in the audience. What? Mike asked, his mouth full of sandwich.

He says that the man in the front row near the middle is his father. He says it can't be him because he died a lung cancer last year, but that it definitely looks like him. He says that every now and again, the laughing man will look at him and try to wave him over. He knows he shouldn't go, but he says that every time the guy waves him over, it's hard not to go.

That's nuts, Lender breathes. Each of them has a story like that, the director said, for Carrie. He pointed out. pointed to a redhead with a ponytail. It's a girlfriend who left a new Mexico and never came back.

For Steve, he pointed to a man with a salt and pepper crew cut. It's his sister who stopped talking to him after his parents left him everything in their will. They all have someone and all of them think they might. But, as he spoke,

we saw Carrie get up and take a step towards the chuckling crowd. One of the others grabbed at her, but she shrugged them off and walked towards the crowd like someone in a dream. She embraced one of the shadow masses and then sat next to them, chuckling and smiling as his butt pressed the seat. After Steve left two, the director decided to take action. He told one of the hands near us to turn up the house lights.

He wanted the lights on the crowds so we could see who they were. Maybe they would start laughing if their cover was blown, and this could all be over, and we could all get back to work. He seemed to think that this might be a prank, though not a very funny one, and wanted to end it already. Some of the stagehands went to get things set up, but we all kept locking at that quietly chuckling behemoth. Mark had fallen asleep somehow, and I kept my arm wrapped around him as though I might stand

between him and the tide should they charge. I was still munching after mine litre fruit from the food table, and I didn't notice Rachel getting up until my bowl of honeydew almost tipped over. Linda grabbed her wrist, anchoring her to the couch. But when I looked up, I could see that her eyes were big and starry. Her blonde ponytail bobbed a little as she scanned the crowd, and Linda started asking her what she was looking for. I thought I saw someone up there.

Someone I haven't seen in very long... But she gasped harshly then. Hit him! Oh my God, hit him! She was pulling against Linda's hand, but Linda refused to let go. Who, Rach, who is it? Linda asked, trying to restrain the girl as Mike moved to help. It's my dad. My dad's up there. He looks just like he did in the photo. My mama is in a dresser drawer.

He hasn't changed the bit. I looked at the crowd, trying to see who she was looking at, but failing. Rach, your dad died before you were born. Your mother told me about his accident. It can't be him. But it is! Rachel almost screamed, pitching a body from side to side as she tried to break free. Mike and Linda held her tightly and I scoot it closer to Mark so Mike could sit on the couch.

The two of them sat there and held her as she saw. for them to let her go. She used a lot of swear words as she thrashed about, but they refused to let her go. When she finally stopped, she sat, crying into Linda's shoulder as the two of them hugged her tightly.

Someone yelled down from the catwalk then, and the stage was suddenly awash with light. The overheads were unbearably bright, and, as they all lit at once, I remember tinting my eyes with my hand, so they didn't blind me. We had used them for beach scenes a few times when rain caused us to not shoot on location,

and I can remember thinking that there was so much brighter than the real sun. They lit up every corner of the set, but as I squinted at the seat, I realized I'd been wrong. Every corner but one, it seemed. The seats were still a pool of shadows But when the light hit them

Everything changed The low chuckling became a strange hybrid Of screaming and deep booming laughter The kind of laughter you heard in an insane asylum The kind of laughter you heard In hell The people in the seats never moved But the darkness did

It plumeed out like a fog And started rolling towards us Those people near the seats were hit And we could hear the laughter starting As they fell to the knees and clutched their stomachs The director shouted at the crew to kill the lights But it was much too late The darkness was angry now

And it was no longer satisfied with the few people it had In the seat It was coming for us Mike grabbed Mark and me lifting us up in his strong arms and started running backstage. He turned to yell for Linda, but she was fighting with Rachel

as the girl tried to free herself again. She was straining towards the fog, and it was creeping in to get the both of them. Micah yelled for her to let Rachel go if she wouldn't come, but Linda refused a lever there. She strained and pulled at the girl, but Rachel was apparently stronger than she looked.

It didn't matter. a moment later as the fog rolled in and they were both little more than chuckling shadows. Mike ran to the back, Mark crying and asking him what was going on. He had woken up when Mike picked him up and Mike was looking frantically for some way to escape. He saw a window and lifted a piece of wood to smash it against it. As he brought the wood down however, he might as well have been hitting concrete because the board bounced off, splinters flying. The dark fog was rolling past the set wall now

and Mike was almost out of options. Mark and I just stood against the wall, eyes roving like scared dogs trying to make sense of what was going on. Finally, Mike settled in the closet. He was full of brooms and mops, but we didn't have time to move them by that point. Mike pushed this in and sighed

as he saw how much room we took up. As the flog plumed behind him, he slammed the door shut and left us in total darkness. His laughter started a few seconds later, and the sound nearly drove us mad as we huddled in the tiny closet. Mark and I hunched, arms wrapped around each other, expecting that we would both begin to laugh at any minute. We sat like that for a long time. I have no idea how long. until both of us must have fallen asleep to the sound of Mike's choking laughter. When I woke up, I was in the hospital,

and my mother was asleep in the chair next to my bed. I got the whole story a few days later. My mother didn't know much. She had come to the set, only to find all the doors locked and police trying to get in. Once they'd gotten in, some of them started laughing and couldn't stop. the paramedics and the fire department had come. After searching the place with breathing equipment, they found Mark and I and brought us to safety.

There was nothing wrong with either of us, not physically, but the two of us had been catatonic for nearly three days. The man from the studio, the one in the pristine suit and oiled hair, told me a different story. He said there had been some kind of gas leak and claimed that most of those present

had been hallucinating due to gas. The audience, cast and crew, had all died due to gas inhalation and Mark and I had been lucky to survive. Our parents were both signed non-disclosure agreements we would promise not to talk about anything we had seen and in exchange for a large amount

of financial compensation. My mother and I needed the money now that the show was going to be cancelled. Both our parents signed and Mark and I went our separate ways The whole event was deemed a tragic accident And I never worked in showbiz again That would be the end of this story

If it weren't for the email I received a week ago I'm in my 30s now And about a week ago I got a Facebook request from Mark I had expected that he wanted to catch up have a beer and share some old stories but his first message was far from what I expected he sent me a messenger request a few seconds later

and after accepting he sent me seven words are they still laughing for you too we met up for that beer the next day Mark was older but far from doing well the guy looked rough borderline homeless and seemed eternally looking around to see who was near him. He asked if I still heard the laughter.

I told him I hadn't, not since that day or those years ago. He said that for him, it had never stopped. He would wake up to see shadowy figures at the end of his bed, the can laughter bubbling from their dark lips. He said Rachel and Linda and Mike were right out from him. teeth too white, smiling as they laughed and laughed. His parents hadn't believed him. They thought it was just a bad dream because of the incident.

The drugs the shrinks gave him just meant he was a drooling zombie as the laughing apparitions chuckled on and on. He started using young. It was alcohol at first. His dad had a cabinet in the living room, then drugs when he was in high school. He stole prescription drugs, used blends of different drugs, drank himself into oblivion, but nothing helped. Every night they were waiting for him, and every night he screamed until they disappeared with the light of day or the arrival of someone else. Just wanted to see if you found a way to make them stop too, Big Brother, he said, sadly, as he left the bar, he... killed himself a week later.

He put a gun in his mouth and the rest is pretty easy to figure out. I envy him now. I envy that he had the strength to do what needed to be done. About a week ago, I woke up to the sound of that can and laughter that always creeped me out in sitcoms. I fumbled for the remote,

thinking I'd just left the TV on. But as the TV, came to life. I saw them. They were arrayed at the foot of my bed. Their bodies made of living darkness, made all the murkier by the light of the TV, and the laughter went on and on. Mark was amongst them, his unkempt hair now a raven mane of living darkness. Mike was there too, and Linda and Rachel.

All of them, laughing and laughing, as I had. lay in bed, frozen in terror. They left with the sun. And I got up to write this. I don't know how long I can take this. I'm afraid to go to sleep, afraid to see them. But I'm too afraid to take Mark's way out either. I see him amongst them, laughing and laughing like an audience in hell.

And I wonder if I'll join them two in the end. I'm afraid to go to sleep. afraid to be awake, afraid to see their faces, and afraid of running into them. My eyes are getting heavy. The fourth cup of coffee is jittering in my hand. I wonder if it hurts to laugh forever. Perhaps I'll find out soon.