The Good Doctor.

We’re just... Having fun sprEading some wonderfuL Positivity. That’s all.

“We’re just... Having fun sprEading some wonderfuL Positivity. That’s all.”

I’m a humble theorist, my poor lost friend, Can’t see why Anyone wouldn’t waNt thaT in their lives.

An Eternity In Hell (In Space With Markiplier Drabble)

The darkness had stopped eating at him ages ago. He didn’t have a time. There wasn’t really time anymore. Days didn’t start and they didn’t end. There was no morning, no coffee, no evening, no sleep.

He was getting close to being finished. He knew they would be here soon, and that the moment would finally arrive. All the times - the only time, again and again - that he’d seen them arrive. Called out to them only to see their shocked expression melt into nothingness and blue light. Every time - the only time - they were gone in an instant.

He’d been desperate to leave at first. Clawing at the door and banging away at the controls, pulling at panels and, every single time they arrived, he’d jolt toward them, desperate to pull them close and have some kind of comfort again. But still, every time, they slipped out of his reach, and he’d be alone again.

After a while, he ended up curled up in one of the corners. He was utterly alone, and he couldn’t make himself see why he should bother getting up. Moving. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t feel like he was aging. He didn’t feel anything at all but the endless exhaustion and terror, the cold floors.

He ran through every endless life then. Every death - jettisoned, suffocated, shot, frozen, burned alive, detonated, stretched beyond physical limitations, eaten, smashed - all of them played out over and over and over again. Sometimes he could feel his bones, old and brittle, and the slowing of his movements. He could see a cafe at the end of everything, getting darker and emptier as the stars around it winked into blackness. 

Every single time, they were there. They led the charge. They send him into danger. They met him at the table. 

They decided. Time after time after time after time, for all time, they decided. 

And it all ended in misery. 

No more. 

He moved, finally. He stood, and pulled panels from the walls. Pulled circuits. Found the emergency tool stash and started building. Rewired the controls to feed into the central hub. Crafted the designs from memory, painstakingly, with aching hands that never got any rest. 

Still they showed up. Again and again, and every time, he had to stop and look. Had to call out. He couldn’t help himself. He built three soaring spires and connected them, used them as a focus and a kind of closed circuit to create a layer of shielding and containment. 

Finally it was done. It had power. It ran and its diagnostics, programmed from scratch, came through at 100% capacity. It was ready.

And there they were, right on schedule. He felt nothing and everything at once as he calmly pulled the extinguisher from the wall and took aim. 

“Hi, Captain.”

....he’s trapped...

Looking back on CHASE I noticed something. 

The scene where he suddenly ended up at the parking lot and looked around, it’s clear he noticed he didn’t have his whiskey on him. But I think he may have lost something else. 

Before he looks at his hand that held the bottle, he feels his front pocket:

and then looks to his hand, his palm shaped more as if he’s mining hold a phone and not a bottle:

At first I thought he was checking to see if he still had the photo, maybe to get a gage the time he had lost or gained: was he thrown back in time or forward?

Then I checked:

The photo came from his back pocket. Not only that his front pocket is bulged and rectangular, like a phone. 

Chase lost his phone at some point in ‘transporting’. 

This is an observation and although I have my thoughts as to what it could mean, they’re half-arsed and sleep deprived. If anyone else has theories to what this could be, feel free to mention. :)

Is your blog title a reference to a wrestling song?

No, unfortunately, that would’ve been a lot cooler than what it actually is. XD Is there a song called “Like Puppets on a String”? I have to look that up now.

But no, actually it was just a generic reference to villains using other people as pawns, treating them “like puppets on a string”. It just happened to get really relevant to youtube dark sides. lol

Sometimes some of the softer egos will steal the heated blankets if they aren’t feeling well or the power goes out during winter

I have a feeling that Wilford casually steals them all the time and buys him a new one every month or so to replace the ones he takes. lol

A Tack-On To My Last Theory.

What if we’re getting a glimpse at the proper creation/manifestation of Anti? Like, if Anti really is a tulpa, a parallel personality of Jack’s, then what if the coma is him trying to permanently gain a physical form so he can kill and replace Jack once and for all?

What if Chase and Schneep are tulpas as well, and they’ll die if Jack dies, so they’re trying to stop him for their sake as well as for Jack’s. Tulpas can be companions too, they’re not all evil.

Whether or not JJ is involved in this, I’m super excited to see what Wil and the Detective have been up to. This is gonna be a fun ride. Probably full of feels.

I always imagine anti as kinda like the grinch, he detests Christmas much to the annoyance of chase

Oh absolutely.

Not strictly a story, but it’s a show and a channel that I’m running!

Sopranos Wanted!

The Combustible Pasta Studios team is in need of some sopranos for the chorus for the rest of Undertale The (Unauthorized) Musical and future projects!

If you or someone you know would be interested in auditioning and you’re a soprano, please PM me on Discord through the fan server with a short clip of you singing something in your range, preferably Broadway or Disney. Spread the word! I’d love to have some new folks on the team. :D 

The Fan Server: https://discord.gg/d4MVV3F

My tag: @kittycatthang

HEADCANON ACCEPTED

Ok so idk what made me think of this but imagine WKM Mark and Celine actually had a baby. Imagine the baby was orphaned after the events of WKM. Imagine he grew up with powers he never fully understood and no one to teach him how to use them. Imagine him having this innate desire for control. Imagine him, all grown up, becoming a best selling Author. Imagine him meeting Dark and Dark just freaking out.