Find other great podcasts like this one at podmoth.network. Hey everybody, welcome back to another episode of Hello Wednesday. Today, we're going to be doing a little bonus episode for you throughout the month of October. I am your host Dave and I am joined today by Nicholas Einzman, the most handsome boy in the world. How's it going, bud? Well, the stress and pressure of being the most handsome boy in the world is slowly eating me alive.
I was going to say eating me out and I was like, wait a second, that doesn't match. Yeah, you live right on the rim of despair. Oh, I definitely live on a rim. Boo, we're bad. We're so naughty. But yeah, welcome everyone. Again, this is a Cryptic Cocktail Party, Hello Wednesdays. We're doing some midweek episodes just to give you a little bit of extra spook. And I don't know, I got nothing. Nick, what's something that made you smile today? What's something that made me smile today?
Yeah, I figured we'd start the episode off with some positivity. So I woke up, right? That's great. And I realized that I had some leftover margarita pizza from Thin and Crispy. Oh, shit. TNC's little buds. Their pizza is incredible to begin with. Sorry, I just had a brain fart there. I thought you were just like, came your pants thinking about it, because I'm not going to lie, that's what I do. Believe me, I have come my pants eating their margarita pizza.
TNC's pizza, if you're in Philly or the Port Richmond Fishtown area, I don't know how far they deliver, but goddamn is their pizza the best. But that's your smile for the day? No, no, no, no. And then I watched The Punisher. Which one? Like the original movie with, well not the original, it's the second one, because technically there's three Punisher movies. Yeah, so not the one with Dolphin Laundry or whatever, but the one after that. The one after, the one with John Travolta.
Hell yeah. It's a bad movie, but it's so good. Not good, not good at all. And then I like thought about my life a little bit while I was watching it, because I grew up watching, you know, that movie, the Ghost Rider movie, like the Daredevil movie. All of them are really dark and depressing, and I was obsessed with them and it explains a lot. So I got to some rude, some childhood trauma. Yeah. It made me smile. The John Travolta Punisher is so good. He doesn't play the Punisher.
I don't know the name of the actor that plays the Punisher, but that one scene where he has a guy hanging by chains and he thinks he tells the guy is going to blow torch his back and he just holds a cold popsicle to him. Oh yeah, he gets the fucking ice pop. It's so good. He's like, you're going to feel, you're going to feel really cold. And then he just like stabs him with an ice pop. It's so good.
All right, Nicholas. Well, today we're going to be doing something a little a little different, a little fun. We're not going to tell a story today. Well, we're going to tell stories, but you're going to be in control of the stories. There's a lot of pressure. Like a choose your own adventure? Kind of. So there's a lot of, what's it called, a lot of discourse about AI technology. You know, like AI art being stolen from other arts, all that stuff.
But I thought we would do today is I found out that chat GPT can write creepypastas, spooky spaghetti, yes, it can. Spooky spaghetti's macabre marinara's, if you will. So what I'm going to have you do is we're going to do kind of like a mad lib thing. I'm going to ask you certain words and phrases. You're going to tell them to me and then I'm going to put them into chat GPT and it's going to produce a creepypasta for us. And I'm sold.
All right. So I need what I need from you is a time like a year, like between 1700s, 2000s, 3000s, but whatever. And I need an era a long time ago. No, like a number, like a number, but like a year. Sixteen fifty five. All right. And I need to know. Give me like cursed, possessed, haunted, one of those words. Possession. All right. And then I need an object. It can be a video game. It could be whatever. Just anything. I will choose a 1987 Kenner's action figure of the bounty hunter Bosque.
From the movie Star Wars, because that wasn't specific. Oh, God. OK. And do you want to be in the first person or third person? Let's go third person. OK. Your face is giving me all I need to know. Are you ready for this? I was born ready. This is the creepypasta that you have decided. All right. In the year 1655, amidst the dark and mysterious alleys of London, a peculiar tale began to circulate among the locals.
It spoke of a cursed artifact, a relic from a distant galaxy, and its malevolent influence on those who possessed it. This eerie narrative centered around none other than a small, unassuming Bosque action figure from the Star Wars universe. Oh, my God. In 1655. The story began when a renowned collector and enthusiast of oddities, Lord Archibald Montague, acquired the rare Bosque action figure through a clandestine auction.
His wealth and curiosity led him to seek out the most exotic and enigmatic items in the world. Yet it was a seemingly innocent plastic toy that would become his most haunting obsession. Upon receiving the action figure, Lord Montague was entranced by his exquisite detail and craftsmanship. He proudly displayed it in his lavish drawing room alongside his other prized possessions.
The lifelike rendering of the Trandoshan bounty hunter with his sinister grin and reptilian eyes seemed to watch over the room like an otherworldly sentinel. I'm sorry. This is fucking gold. As the nights grew longer and colder, whispers began to circulate among Lord Montague's servants. They spoke of strange occurrences in the Manson. Sorry, mansion. The Manson. It's just Charlie Manson. Muffled footsteps echoed in empty hallways, the objects inexplicably moved on their own.
The mansion itself seemed to shudder with an otherworldly presence. One evening, while Lord Montague was alone in his study, he became aware of an eerie presence in his room. His gaze was drawn to the Bosque action figure, which had seemingly shifted its position on the shelf. Unnerved but dismissing it as a mere trick of the light, he returned to his work. But the malevolent force within the Bosque figure was not to be ignored.
Night after night, it seemed to grow stronger, its influence seeping into the very walls of the mansion Lord Montague's sleep became disturbed by vivid nightmares of being pursued by the relentless Trandoshan bounty hunter. What makes it even funnier is it's like a three and a half inch. Yeah, no, it's great. Bosque action figure. Now, as the days turned into weeks, Lord Montague's obsession with the Bosque figure reached a fever pitch.
He spent hours locked in his study, whispering to the plastic figure. His voice tinged with madness. Servants who dared enter the room were met with his crazed laughter and cryptic ramblings about the power hidden within the toy. One fateful night, as a raging storm lashed the mansion, Lord Montague's cries pierced the darkness. His servants rushed to his study only to find him in disarray.
Papers were scattered, furniture overturned, and in the center of the chaos, the Bosque action figure lay glowing in an eerie malevolent light. It was as if the very essence of Bosque had unleashed upon the world. Lord Montague, his mind shattered, clutched the action figure tightly in his hand, oblivious to the terror that now emanated from it. The servants watched in horror as their master's body began to contort and change, his features morphing into a grotesque resemblance of the Trandoshan.
Hold on, wait, hold on. In a voice that was no longer his own, Lord Montague hissed, I am Bosque, the relentless hunter, and I have claimed this vessel. The servants fled the mansion, leaving behind the cursed artifact that had given their master to madness. The once grand mansion now stood as a desolate, haunted place, its halls echoing with the tortured cries of Lord Montague, forever trapped within the malevolent Bosque figure. Wait, so he became the Bosque figure?
Yeah, then I think Bosque became him. And so the legend of the possessed Bosque action figure lived on. A cautionary tale whispered among the people of London in 1655. None dared enter the cursed mansion, for they knew that the relentless hunter still lurked within, waiting to claim the souls of any who dared to cross its path.
To this day, the Bosque action figure remains hidden away, a sinister relic of a bygone era, a reminder that even the most innocent objects can hold unspeakable horrors when touched by the dark side of the force. My fucking god. Oh shit, dude, that was too fucking good. Dude, that's a show right there. That is a show. It's just us giving each other manlybs and chat GTV thing. All right. Can I can we switch the verse here because I want to I want to do this for you.
Oh, you got the app on your phone or are you on the I'm going to pull it up on my on my second monitor. Bro, that was that was too fat. Dude, that was fucking great. That was actually better than what I thought it was. Maybe I'm going to start a blog that's just all AI chat. No, I think we just do a podcast. Just send it. Fuck, dude. I just love that they didn't explain how 1655 came across the boss action figure from the 1980s and probably 1970. Oh, it'd be like 1980. Right.
Yeah. 1987. All right, Dave. So I need you to give me a year. A year. Let's do. Let's do the year four thousand and sixty nine. Nice. Very nice. Very nice. OK. And I need you to give me a noun. A noun. Yeah. So a person, place or thing. Oh, shit. Let's do a do lava lamp. Lava lamp. And now I need you to give me a adjective. Oh, fuck. You can do stinky, cheesy, scary. I know what it is. All right. OK, I'm just giving you the the mad lib rules here. Let's do shiny.
Which was shiny, shiny like a diamond or just shiny? Just shiny. All right. And away we go. Oh, no. Oh, no. Fuck. Oh, it's still going. Oh, it's still going. Oh, I forgot to say that I put only put it. So my prompt was, can you write me a seven hundred word creepypasta set in time about a. Yes. Yeah. I did a word count. I didn't just do because it'll go forever. Oh, it it might be a little bit longer, but it's it's definitely not too, too long. All right. In the year four thousand sixty nine.
Oh, gosh. Humanity had achieved astonishing technical heights, technological heights, but they still cherished relics from the past. One such relics was a mysterious, shiny lava lamp. OK. An object that had survived countless centuries, passing through generations as an eerie family heirloom. This lava lamp was rumored to have. Supernatural powers and legends surrounding it had grown over millennia.
The lava lamp, which was said to have been crafted by an ancient civilization that had long disappeared. I mean, it tracks 1970 compared to fucking four thousand sixty nine. That's pretty ancient. Yeah. All right. Fair enough. It's it's outer surface was a shimmering metallic silver that seemed to defy the passage of time. OK. All right. The liquid inside, however, was unlike any other lava lamp.
Oh, instead of the usual lava like blobs, it contained a viscous dark fluid that seemed to pulse with a life of its own, regardless of the power being on. Oh, this is like the blob. The lava lamp had been passed down through generations, each generation, each owner experiencing its eerie effects. Some claim that it could show glimpses of the future, while others believed it. While others believed it could communicate with the dead.
The truth was. No one really knew what the lava lamp was capable of, but only that it was fueled by the mystique. No, it's so vague. In four thousand sixty nine, the lava lamp was in the possession. Oh, we're getting some crossover here. The lava lamp was in the possession of the Montagru family. No way. Yeah. It makes sense. It makes sense for centuries that they had kept away in their mansion, in their hidden mansion, deep in the heart of a sprawling futuristic city.
The mansion had become of stuff of legends of itself with curious wonders of what was stored inside and rumors of strange occurrences and eerie noises emanating from the walls. Is this a what? No. How is this happening? I don't know. One fateful evening as a violent thunderstorm, we just accidentally created a whole Montague universe. Oh, yeah. Thank you, chat GPT.
Oh, shit. One fateful evening as a violent thunderstorm raged outside, a young Sarah Montagru discovered the lava lamp tucked away in a dusty addict corner. She heard the stories of its power since she was a child and her curiosity got the better of her. She decided it was high time to give it a try. Sarah touched the lava lamp and to her surprise, it came to life. The dark fluid inside began to churn and swirl, forming strange shapes and patterns of things she had never seen before.
Oh, shit. So the lava lamp is almost like a devination thing, like a fucking like read the tea leaves type thing. Maybe. Yeah. Hell, yeah. Oh, it's. I love this. All right. As she watched, a ghostly image of a man appeared, his features distorted and hazy. It was Bosque. All right, continue. Who are you? Sarah whispered, trembling in fear. The apparition of the lava lamp spoke with an otherworldly voice. I am the keeper of the lava lamp, a guardian of its secrets.
And I have waited centuries for someone like you. Sarah's heart raced as the lava lamp revealed its true nature. It can indeed communicate with the dead, but it demanded a price for its return of its power. Of course, the lava lamp required a living soul to be bonded with it. And Sarah was its chosen vessel. Shit. Like, like the like the things from Avatar. They had a great hair.
Maybe the storm outside intensified lightning flashing through the windows, casting eerie shadows in the attic of former Montgomery family members. Montgomery or Montague Montague. OK. I'm fucking dyslexic. Yeah, you're bad at this. I think I'm doing a great job. Sarah hesitated, but the lava lamp's power was all too alluring. She agreed to the binding ritual and with a flash of searing light, her soul became one with the lava lamp. From that day forward, Sarah Montague became an it's not right.
Eternal guardian of the lava lamp. It's spelled weird. Her existence was bound to the shiny relic and she could never leave its side. Over the centuries, the Montague mansion became even more mysterious with its all walls echoing with the whispered secrets of the lava lamp. Visitors who ventured into the mansion reported feeling a chilling presence and hearing eerie whispers in the dark corners of the house.
The shiny lava lamp of four thousand sixty nine had claimed another soul and its legend had lived on. A haunting reminder for the price one pay for unlocking its dark and mysterious powers. God damn it. It's so fucking. I do like the fact that it kept it in the universe. I agree. That's pretty good. You got to hit me with another one. This is this is comedy gold. All right. Let's let's change it up. I'm going to do give me a state.
New Mexico. Can I give you the character about a guy named David Prescott? Yeah. Fuck me. And he stumbles upon what? A wooden dummy from the 1940s named Kobe Clark. Like a ventriloquist dummy? Yeah. Haunted. Yes. The ghost of give me a famous person that's dead. Famous person that's dead. Yeah. Chris Farley. Oh, no. All right. I cannot wait.
All right. Yeah. In the vast desert expanse of New Mexico, with a scorching sun and desolation cast an eerie timeless quality, a man named David Prescott embarked on an extraordinary journey. Little did he know that this journey would lead him to an unsettling encounter with a ventriloquist dummy that harbored the ghost of the beloved comedian Chris Farley. David Prescott was an amateur collector of oddities drawn to the peculiar and
peculiar and paranormal. One scorching summer day, while scouring an old antique shop in the sleepy town of Roswell, he stumbled upon a dusty wooden ventriloquist dummy, its nameplate reading Kobe Clark. The shop owner, an elderly woman with a knowing glint in her eye, recounted the dummy's strange history. It was rumored to have once belonged to a mysterious ventriloquist named Clyde Morgan, who had vanished without a trace after a tragic accident during a live performance.
The doll had since been passed down through generations of collectors, each owner claiming to have witnessed unsettling occurrences. Intrigued by the doll's eerie reputation, David purchased Kobe Clark and took him to his small, isolated home on the outskirts of the desert. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, ominous shadows across the landscape, David decided to try his hand at ventriloquism, using the unsettling dummy as his audience.
Wait, what? Why would I use the dummy as my audience? All right, anyways, to his astonishment, as he manipulated Kobe Clark's wooden features and began to speak, a voice not his own emerged from the dummy. It was the unmistakable voice of Chris Farley, the beloved comedian who tragically passed away years ago. David felt a chill creep down his spine as the voice of Farley began to tell jokes, delivering punchlines with the macabre humor that sent shivers down his spine.
As the days turned into weeks, David's life spiraled into chaos. Kobe Clark, now inhabited by the spirit of Chris Farley, became increasingly unpredictable. It would come to life in the dead of night, its eyes glowing with an eerie spectral light and recounting Farley's darkest memories and regrets in a mournful tone. Oh my God. David's own sanity began to unravel as he found himself locked in a surreal conversation with the restless spirit of the comedian.
Chris Farley's presence grew more menacing with each passing day, and David could feel his own identity slipping away as he became a vessel for a ghost's torment. Oh my God. Desperate to free himself from this nightmarish ordeal, David researched the history of Clyde Morgan, the ventriloquist who owned Kobe Clark, before him. He discovered a tragic tale of obsession and madness, leading to Morgan's mysterious disappearance.
It was clear that Farley's relentless spirit was trapped within the dummy as a result of Morgan's dark experiments. With newfound determination, David embarked on a perilous journey into the unforgiving New Mexico desert to seek answers and release Farley's spirit from its wooden prison. Guided by a cryptic map he had discovered in Morgan's notes, he navigated treacherous terrain and reached the site of the ventriloquist's last performance.
There, beneath a blood-red sun, David performed a final ventriloquist act, imploring Kobe Clark to release Chris Farley's spirit. As the last words left his lips, a violent wind swept through the desert and the wooden dummy crumbled to dust, its eerie laughter echoing in the wind. The haunting presence of Chris Farley finally faded, leaving David shaken but free from the malevolent grip of Kobe Clark.
As he walked away from the desolate desert landscape, he couldn't help but wonder if the restless spirit had found peace or if it still roamed the vast expanse of New Mexico, forever bound to the unforgiving desert and the enigmatic dummy that had imprisoned it for so long. God damn it. That was the best. That was pretty good. Yeah, that took turns. I wasn't expecting it to take. I'm gonna spend the rest of my day making this image in Photoshop. Yeah, please do.
Of me using Kobe Clark as a dummy and then... And then like force ghost Chris Farley behind you. Fuck, dude, that's so good. Oh shit. Well, I think that's gonna do it for the Spooky Spaghetti, but I think we're definitely gonna have to do this again at some point because that was fucking good. God damn. It was a good time. It was a good time. All right, man. All right. Well, do you want to plug your stuff before we say goodbye?
Yeah. So listen, if you want to talk about watches and we have a new podcast coming out called Unlimited Time Radio, where it's me and my partner who is not going to be on camera just yet, but he's gonna be on our talk and watches. He usually tries to get me drunk and then get my opinions while, you know, lifting my guard up. Yeah, it's gonna be fun. You're gonna show your dick? What does lifting your guard up mean? Oh, letting my guard down. Oh, my hair down. Gosh. Let my hair down.
Yeah, I'm gonna let the mustache just kind of show that dick. Show that dick. Show that dick. Yeah, I'm gonna. Big dick. Nick. I'm just gonna loop me saying show that dick, but layer 15 times. So it sounds like a group of people are just chanting show that dick. Incredible. Yeah, that's a mistake. Thanks for having me. I'm always a pleasure. Yeah. Make sure to follow us on Instagram at Crypto Cocktail. Twitter is Crypto Cocktail. TikTok is Crypto Cocktail Party.
And with that, Nick, would you like to say goodbye to everyone? Adios, take care, go gently into that quiet night. Fuck you. Tell them to stay quiet. Stay quiet. Thank you.