The Smurfs Lost Episode
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This is a fictional joke story written by Schizima. Don't take it seriously.
Warning: now that you've started to read or listen to this creepypasta, you need to listen to it until the end or smurfs will crawl into your bed and eat your brains through your ears tonight. I'm not the person who is responsible for that. You probably think you've heard of all of the lost episodes, sport, but let me fucking tell you something: you haven't. I'm not sure what the fuck you think about me, but I'll tell you what you think about the Smurfs. You think it's a great show. All of those Smurfs smurfing around, while the evil gargamel plots horrible things up in his castle, planning to kill and dismember the smurfs. It was sick. But these are just visions, fictions of a deluded and sick mind. Who, though? Gargamel? His creator? The god that created the creator? What of the Painter smurfs' painting? What hand was controlling him? Gargamel's plan for the smurfs was even more nefarious than you've ever known (Gargamel is a real fucking asshole I hate him)
The first thing you have to know as a bit of a backstory is that Smurfette is the only female smurf, and all the smurfs had sex with her making them all inbred. Smurfette was made by gargamel, and gargamel was made by Hannah Barbara, making Hannah Barbara evil by association. There is a lost episode of the Smurfs unlike any other. The title is "Little Fucking Blue Men inside my head" and there's a picture of The Blue Man group on the cover, with some strange man in the bushes who looks like a wizard, smiling in a sinister manner. I assumed the tape cover was a fluke, and discarded it. Man, in retrospect, I should've saved that motherfucker, it would've been great evidence for my future date in court. A date with the judge, I might add. And I ain't talking about taking Judy out for frosty chocolate milkshakes, if you catch my drift. So how did I find the tape? I was driving down the highway when I saw some strange explosive blur cross the highway. There was a tape laying there, on the floor. A...VHS tape. I was eating a cuban sandwich. If VHS stood for Very Hot Sandwich, I would've eaten my VHS and been on my merry way, but VHS doesn't stand for that. VHS doesn't stand for that at all.
The first thing I noticed was that the episode was in Spanish, so forgive me as I have to translate it myself. I don't speak Spanish, so it was very hard to understand, but thankfully my friend Carlos was there to translate. Carlos exists, I'm not making him up to seem more credible. Me and Carlos popped some popcorn, got some delicious Chalupas and turned on the amazing program.
The episode starts out... a little stranger. Carlos was snickering because of the words onscreen. Instead of The Smurfs, the title was "chuparme la polla" which Carlos informed me stands for "Suck my chicken". Carlos was leering at the tape very sinister now, in a way that I'd never seen him before. Carlos became sullen now, as the next set of words flashed onscreen. I saw his usual smile fall into the sort of frown you'd see when a fly lands in your nachos, becoming entangled in the nacho sauce, ruining your superbowl party for friends and family alike.
"El gobierno causó 9/11"
Carlos shuddered at the words onscreen. "If we don't watch the tape until the end." Carlos began. "Small blue men will crawl into our ears and dismember our brains, piece by piece." He pointed to the painting of the demonic entity in the corner, some goat with horns. "La Chupacabra" he whispered, and bit into a taco. "I'll chop your cabra!" I said, shaking my fist at his superstitious beliefs. I shut the tape off and threw it in the garbage. "Mi gusta!" Carlos screamed, taking the VHS tape out of the trash and slamming it back into the VHS player. Hot mustard dripped down the plastic overlay. "This isn't a joke!" He screamed. We ventured to watch the tape again. I hoped Carlos was enjoying his taco, for it would be the last he'd ever eat.
The Smurfs started to dance around, singing the familiar intro as Gargamel plotted. Gargamel...looked a little more sinister. He was an evil wizard with a cat who plotted to kill the Smurfs, but here all the smurfs were...US presidents. George W. Bush, Eisenhower and even president Clinton was a smurf. It was disturbing. I didn't want to watch the US presidents living together in a Smurf village. It was making me really uncomfortable. I felt my tears start to well up in my eyes. Speaking of which, the Smurfs were communists. They lived in a community of mushroom homes, where each person provided an equal amount of labor with no ruling hierarchy. Gargamel, on the other hand, hated the smurfs and their community. What did all of this mean?
President Gerald Ford was shown making a straw hat, while President Jimmy Carter built homes. Gargamel ran down the mountain and tripped. He got a huge head wound. By the time he had made it to the Smurf village, he stomped on president George Bush senior, squashing him like an Italian woman would stomp on wine grapes. As the camera showed the foot descending on president Bush, his eyes became slivered, like almonds. All of a sudden, Carlos started screaming! Evidently the tape said something along the lines of "Die, Carlos" and a picture of Carlos being killed in a lawnmower incident was shown. Carlos spit taco sauce into my hair. I washed my hair and turned the hairdryer on, then ventured back to the tape. When I came back, the tape just had a picture of a disheveled man with a mustache flaring his nostril. Carlos screamed and screamed. That was when we saw the strange man at our window. The bald, toothy man in a robe. He was staring at us and smiling. Wasn't that my neighbor?
"What are you doing with that VHS there?" He snickered. He had been watching us for a good thirty minutes from the looks of it! "Have you been watching us?" I yelled. "Us?" He said. He looked in and stared directly at Carlos. He looked right through him, as though he wasn't even there. Carlos became nervous. "Why don't you come over and have some lymenade? It's like lemonade, but I make it with limes." He sneered a rather evil sneer. "If we do this." Carlos started. "He will surely be the end of us." The end of us indeed... It turns out Gargamel was just wearing the robe because he had a local Harry Potter convention he hosted for the grade school kids alone in his apartments on Saturdays.
He poured me an ice cold glass of Limenade which was evidently just fucking shitty Mountain Dew. He showed us his huge VHS collection. He smiled wide, his wrinkled face was covered in moles and his crooked nose made him look like a hawk with anal warts on its beak. "I have all 255 episodes...of the smurfs." He smiled wide. I informed him that I had gotten onto IMDB to check the episode list before I started watching the VHS I had, and there were 256 episodes of The Smurfs. "I know." He smiled. "I know." He informed me that he frequently has sex with his cat, Chesterton. I told him I didn't want to know that. He handed me some pamphlets containing the communist manifesto and I told him I was leaving. He said that before I go, I had his missing VHS tape to complete the collection, he had lost it on his mail route.
"Give me my tape!" He sneered, waving a magic wand that did absolutely nothing. "Suck my cock!" I yelled. Gargamel had become horrified, as though I had decoded some secret message. Me and Carlos left, getting into Gargamel's lawnmower, accidently running over Chesterton. He threw plastic pink flamingos at us while Carlos drove the lawnmower through a shed. We both got hit with and covered in blue paint. Gargamel started throwing VHS tapes at both of us, while lawn gnomes that seriously resembled the smurfs got caught under the blades of the lawnmower. "Leave them alone!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face as he chased us in his mail truck. A VHS tape slammed into the back of Carlos' head. He was the one driving the lawnmower, as I said. It spun around a hundred and eighty degrees, clocked Gargamel and crashed. A massive explosion occured, with the lawnmower and gas engine completely engulfing us in flames. Thankfully, I was wearing my seatbelt.
I woke up in the hospital. Carlos had been killed in the horrific lawnmower incident. And what about me? The lawnmower blades had serrated my kneecaps and upper torso. I now stood at roughly one and a half feet tall. They had to reassemble me out of whatever pieces they could find. The paint had never come off. It was permanently inside my skin. I had become... a smurf. The doctor came in and apologized, stating that my voice would now be more high pitched and ironically smurf like because my vocal chords were lost in the lawnmower incident. I also couldn't wear any clothing on my upper torso, due to the intense cuts across my chest. I was relegated to white hospital pants and a set of bandages to cover the part of my head that had been chopped off. The bandages resembled a smurf hat. The doctors came in, informing me that my home had burned down because I had left the hairdryer on. I was furiously angry. I asked them if I could get a replacement home due to my own home having been destroyed in the fire.
It was only then that I realized that President Jimmy Carter still had his habitat for humanity which provides homes for people in need. I called him up. "Well, listen, son, I really appreciate you calling me, and I want to help." A few days later Jimmy Carter showed up at the hospital, smiling wide. I poured him an ice cold glass of Limenade. "Now how am I gonna find a home for someone of your stature?" Someone of my stature? He smiled wide. It was a deep, self satisfied smile. His nostrils flared. "Here's your home." He smiled big, taking out a tiny, mushroom shaped house, an exact replica of one from the smurfs. He was snickering rather loudly. "April Fools." He whispered. It was nearly December.
We both started laughing. I had thought that was everything. I was laughing, and laughing, and laughing away. I had tears in my eyes from the intense laughter. What a great plot twist, right? I had slipped into something else, much as I had slipped off the VHS slipcase this afternoon. I have to tell you something, something that might shock you. Carlos never existed. I can't speak Spanish, so I don't know what the tape said. I was the one driving the lawnmower. I was the one who burned the house down. And if you ask me, Gargamel or Mike Florentz, the local mailman had it coming. But I guess that's for the courts to decide...
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