Blackbottom Paranormal

Lizzy Update!   HOMIES, THER IS NOW A SENTIENT SHIT IN OUR HOUSE! A SENTIENT SHIT! PLEASE TELL ME HOW IN THE FUCKITY FUCK FUCK THIS HAPPENED!   Basically, dad came back from the "Shitty Kitty" which I hope is not a weird code for something, and he came down into the basement, where I was roasting a scammer, and I said, "Please hold, dumbass." I walked up to dad and said, "What in the fuck is that giant worm covered in Nutella, I hope, doing in MY OFFICE?"   Dad told me the story, and I am now observing the shit move around in different pet (Typical fish and snake) cages that I have modeled after mountains, plains, valleys, oceans, rivers, etc. I have found that it DOES NOT like the ocean, but it does prefer plains and other flat areas. It does like a lot of space, and it doesn't like water that much. That is mostly all of the information I have gathered, and here is your reportly meme.    

Matt here. First draft. Very tired. Long day. You can read about how it started here. Please excuse typos n' such.   ---   4:45 am. Phone screeching a Nightwish song I used to like until I set it to my ringtone. Now I've Pavloved myself into associating that song with debt collectors and phishing scams. I'd change it, but then there would just be two beloved songs I can't stand. Either that or my ringtone would be a song I already hate, which isn't exactly a win either.   The screen advised me that the caller was Skittles. I cursed under my breath and, against my better judgment, tapped the green button.   "Mornin', Skittles," I grumbled. "What's going on?"   Skittles, excited as always, shouted "WEREWOLF SHIT, HOMIE!" and I nearly threw the phone as I flung my arm away from my newly-traumatized ear. God, I hate when people call me. I could still be sleeping if he'd just texted.   "Did you just say 'werewolf shit?...

I tend to keep the souvenirs in the basement rather than the attic, but that's the best place for the bodies to be. Dead though they are (for the moment), if they get out, they'll probably steal all your catalytic converters.    You're WELCOME dammit   Also send like, soooo many Little Trees, it's gettin' ripe down there    

Lupi's tomorrow. Lizzy's never been, what with the distance and the finances (or lack thereof) so it's exciting.    No one has sponsored any of this madness, it's just that Lupi's is legit amazing .    

Hey guys! Here's another update.   I've been bringing my EMF to school almost every day so that I can talk to that Andrew kid and learn more about what comes after death. He's basically just told me that if you're not good but not necessarily bad, you're stuck on earth. He also says that if you're good, you can go to a safe area or you can become a guardian spirit.   I find it nice to know that you still have something to do after you die. I find it comforting that the abyss isn't the actual life-after-death situation we're dealing with here.   Anyways, a lot of kids think I'm crazy for talking to air on the highest branch of the only tree in the playground, but he'll sometimes pick me up by the arm and fly me to another branch on the tree. Thank God no kids have noticed that I can fly yet.   So... I have a question for you guys. Do you guys like the report'ly memes idea? I just wanna know if I should keep taking screenshots of memes to send...

Hey guys! Lizzie here, and I FINALLY got to go to an abandoned building ! Although it looked like Rapunzel finally left her tower for her new boyfriend, it was good enough. I got to use an EMF reader and record some stuff on my phone, but other than that, we just climbed up a tower.   By the way, I sprained my ankle doing that. But thanks to my amazing talent of ignoring and dealing with pain, I still got to explore and walk around. At one area in the tower, about 17 minutes into a 5-minite climb, we heard somebody call dad, "Yankee!" And a few screams from the lower parts of the tower. At one point, I swear I saw a ghost teen smoking a cigar while being leaned against a wall. I told him to stop smoking because it was dangerous, but I was made very aware that he was dead, a little after seeing him disappear.   If I'm gonna be honest, I don't blame him. Imagine being dead, and one day, you're trying to calm down, but some random thirteen year old walks up to you wi...

Mikko here. I just wanna thank all you weirdoes who read this stuff. It's a lot of fun and knowing there are others who enjoy it as well is actually amazing.   If you have anything you'd like to say to any of the characters, drop a comment and we'll see about having said character reply.   Also I think we might be porting this to BlueSky just for ease of alternate account creation, but first run will go here on Facebook, mostly because that's where our Day One folks are at. And maybe Reddit, which would be even easier but tends to have toxic people all up ons. Aaaallllllll up ons.   I'm also collecting all this into a book that'll be available for purchase and if any money is made from really any of this, it'll be split evenly among the creators, currently me, Sammi, and my 10yo, and subsequently redistributed to things like rent and food and vehicle repair. My 10yo and I will probably throw 10% or something to children's hospitals in memory of her late ...

Sorry about the lack of updates lately. Shit got weird, then shit got busy.   Anyway, I went to RJ's to see if he had any ideas about what happened to that exploded fella by the railroad tracks.   I knocked on the door like a beknuckled raven on a mission to confound and harass an already bewildered Edgar Poe.   "TAY!! TAAAAYYYY there's somebody at the door!" All these years and RJ still sounds almost exactly like Stinkmeaner from The Boondocks.   No response from Tay.   "TAAAYYY I'M TAKIN' A SHYIT, GET THE DAMN DOOR!!" Tellin' ya: Stinkmeaner. Uncanny. When RJ cusses you out, it feels like he's speaking in cursive.   I very much wanted to leave. I'm not particularly well-versed in the kind of juju one brings upon oneself when interrupting a crackhead in the throes of dropping some prodigious east-side ass, and today I learned that as it turns out, this was one of my favorite qualities about myself.   After a few minutes, the door opened ...

Pay's not great! Pay's not great! My allowance just went up by like...five bucks! It was pretty good before since I could afford some stuff at the dollar store, but since the US economy sucks more than usual, all I can afford is a pack of fruit snacks from a shady kid at the back of my school. Forget I said that, please.   But, I guess it is fun to scream as loud as possible into a scammers's ear every five minutes. Mostly, when I don't have calls, I research paranormal entities and write slightly concerning essays as homework from my teachers. Long story short, the school counselor meets me every day now. All I've really found is old articles about strange and gore filled deaths and suicides in abandoned buildings. I've been BEGGING dad and Bo to take me to a haunted school, but since they're lame and think I'm "Still a newbie," they refuse to take me. I promise, the first time I walk into an abandoned building, I'll tell you guys all abou...

Going for a walk across our moistened boulevard to wake up a certain crackhead and have a friendly discussion. Or maybe I'll kick his ass. Maybe one, then the other. We're going to have a talk about that Brandon Driver fella who exploded by the tracks after his insides were on the outside. I'll report back later.   Y'all stay safe and don't touch unfamiliar non-newtonian substances.

Bo and Other Matt have been researching and they found some recent news articles (despite Chattanooga Times Free Press 's ludicrous paywall) with local bizarre deaths they suspect is related to the Fucky Putty.   I feel a little left out not being there, but on the other hand, I'd probably just get a bunch of thumb tacks and red string and drive myself crazy. Er. Crazier. Yeah.     Also the tank's empty in the Mattnessmobile and I don't get paid for two days to put more in, so I don't have a way to get there anyway for the moment. Sometimes I wish I could feed the car apples, like a horse. I also think it'd be funny to take a horse in for emissions testing, if only to watch some government lackey try to work out how to use the measuring apparatus on a steaming pile of horseshit briquettes. I digress. Sorry. Horseshit tends to make me do that. Anyway, here's a breakdown of the stories they found.   1. July 18, 7th Avenue in East Lake. The body (such as it was...

Matt again. Sorry I'm writing so late. My partner and kids are back from Illinois and I needed hugs and stories.   I told Lizzy about some of the stuff we've been working on. She's... frighteningly excited. Kid's a bubblegum goth and I couldn't be more proud.   Bo took Mini-Me to her place, as well as my word that I'll be nicer to Bubba going forward. She's right, I've been a dick. I think he was too, I mean if he were Canadian he'd be Scott, but I know why, and... I get it. I would be, too.   Lizzy wants to be Junior Operator for Blackbottom Paranormal, and I don't like answering phones, so I'm good with it. The kid wants into the family business (the spooky one, not the soulless grocery store one). I can't pay her much (we're rarely paid in actual money) but I'll happily bump her allowance for my not having to answer the phone. Also I think it'll be great to watch her troll scammers.   I'm gonna hang out with my peoplese...

Matt here, requesting eye bleach and cuteness memes. You'll see why in a moment.   Bubba called me again, breathlessly telling me to get to the woods right *now* because there's a bunch of werewolves over by where he and I found that homeless guy's tent when we were kids, and the homeless guy chased us out of the woods and threw beer bottles at us.   Good times.   I wonder how that guy's doing. If not for the homeless aspect of it, not a bad way to spend a summer.   Bubba asked me to go investigate, and lord knows I needed to get time away from Mini-Me, so I left him in the capable hands of Bo and went to the woods past the creek on 46th.   The clearing was indeed replete with several canine bipeds, all making various noises and growls, buuuuut I think Bubba should've just let this one alone.   There's no lycanthropy here. Just furries doing, uh..... furry things. In the woods. As one (or, say, eighty) does.   I'm not judging. Consenting adults and wha...

So as far as we can tell, the fucky putty has probably been around for a few months at least. Matt McDinklage over there said it took him and Adam ages to work out interdimensional travel. I'm probably basically garbage to him because he's hopping dimensions and being a brilliant world-saving math nerd at 14 whereas most mornings, my highest 38-year-old aspiration is to make it to that evening on the correct side of the dirt, ideally with my digits intact and my judgment somewhat chemically impaired.   He said the fucky putty would've shown up wherever I was on the days and nights and twilights and bleary-eyed inebriated times of approximately March 15 (beware the Ides I guess) to juuuust about now, and oh, wouldn't it be ever-so-great if it was in your pocket right now, that would solve everything and I can go home.   Like setting up an appointment with Comcast in Hell. Well, like a... Heller (more Helly?) Hell than the standard Hell of regular Hellishness which Comcas...

Sooooo.   Picked up Bo, to whom I shall bequeath the beer I owe her after either payday or a particularly lucrative Doordash run in like, Soddy Daisy or Signal Mountain. The routes where people can afford to make terrible financial decisions in exchange for a tepid chai and a soggy sandwich.   Bo and I went back to the ditch on 46th and sure enough, Young Me materialized outta nowhere playing with his silly little robot.   "Matt?" ventured Bo. Instantly, Teen Me whipped around and said "yeah?"   Bo craned her head towards me and asked, "does this mean you owe me even more beer?"   "I lost track," I said. "But, y'know, probably. Ask him what his deal is."   "What?"   "Like, what's he doing, is he me, what's the deal."   "I'm not gonna just ask him 'what's your deal,' I remember you as a teenager. You'd have answered 'I like boobs.'"   "Boobs are very likeable....

       

Your friendly (or at least scruffy) neighborhood Mattness here.    Listen, there's only so much time one can spend in a ditch just kinda staring and generally milling around before residents of even Blackbottom get ready to call the cops.    It also turns out that "I thought I saw my past self playing in the creek yesterday with some kinda ghetto-ass robot" doesn't sound as good outside my head as it sounded inside it.    I'm gonna have some sleep and beer, hopefully not in that order.    Keep your eyes peeled for temporal anomalies on 46th, I guess, and let me and Bo know if you want it (coplessly) investigated.