Hey, all. I don't have time to post everything now, but I thought I'd open one of these topic-things to post my misadventures in the future. Or something, I guess.

As you can see in my little profile-thingy (you can see that, right? I update it, and it shows you what I typed out, and stuff?), I'm a trucker. I'm all over the place. As such, I'll be on here sporadically at best.

You can call me Jack. Jack Burton. Ain't my real name, but it works well enough. I mean, the character was a truck-driver who ended up fighting monsters; I'm a truck-driver who fights supernatural baddies. I've been in the business for...goddamn, it's been thirty years, now. I've been an activist and an avid follower of ol' Victor Lazlo since he signed a book for me back in '80. I was making a delivery to a bookstore in a mall, and he was there. Thought I'd go ahead and get my little piece of history, even if the man was a crackhead. I read his stuff, and it turns out he wasn't on crack after all! (Yeah, I know, you all know all this already.)

So anyway, like I said, I've been working as an activist and a Lazlo agent since the early 80's. So if any of you guys been on a CB and heard a Jack Burton (or sometimes, when I'm in the mood, I go by the Porkchop Express), that was probably me.

I've been married and divorced twice, had a kid by the second wife. Didn't have the heart to go through it a third time like my namesake. Daughter's going on sixteen years old now, and I hardly get to see her. Ain't too happy about it. I guess that's what it's like, being on the road, though. And maybe it's safer this way, I dunno.

Anyway, enough depressing crap. I ain't psychic. I don't know magic. I have a couple guns stowed away in my truck. I'm not much of an investigator, but I do what I can. My current job--more like an obsession--is with this motherfucker we called "Slenderman"--three guesses why he's called that. He looks like he's about seven feet tall or so, no face, business suit. Causes memory loss, stalks you, causes you problems, breaks you down real slow-like. If you're lucky, he loses interest and moves on to another target before he kills you--but he almost always comes back.

I'm wondering if that's why I kept forgetting to post here after my account was activated...

Anyway, nice to meetcha. I'm not exactly an Internet person, so I'm sorry if it takes me a while to figure this stuff out. I'm more of a radio person.

Ain't no "bit" about this bad business. More like a "bad metric shit-ton of business".

I suspect he's been active for more than twenty years, but a lot of the deaths he causes are suicides from his paranoid victims, so a lot of his victims never make the news. It's only the "lucky few" who survive long enough for him to kill 'em. One guy was found dead, a tiny incision in his chest...and all his organs surgically separated, removed, put in plastic baggies, and replaced.

Another fellow was found stuffed perfectly with packing foam. Never did find his insides, last I heard, but same thing, just a tiny little incision in his chest.

Last guy I was trying to help survive this thing ended up with all kinds of crazy drawings in his room. Drawings he'd done 'cuz his ability to communicate with people was going right out the window as he got more paranoid. Drawings mostly consisted of a circle with a big X through it, depictions of the guy in the business suit with lots of real long tentacles instead of his two arms... Lots of paper posters saying things like "Sees you" and "Don't turn around". I mean, the poor sap had wallpapered his room in the stuff. His roommate found 'im hanging from the bannister, a little tissue-paper doll with freakishly long arms was found sitting on the rope he'd hung himself by.

The stories go on and on about this thing... I've had a narrow escape, myself, and I think it's just how much I travel that's kept me alive as long as it has...

Hey, Hannah. Nice to meetcha.

If someone has pictures of Slenderman, they're either fakes or the people who have 'em are screwed. In a MAJOR way.

Slendy ain't something I've heard of people getting pictures of. He ain't something you mess around with. If you see him and he still looks human, you've got at least a week and at most several months to get your shit in order and arrange your will. That's pretty much it.

I've heard of innocents catching his attention for no reason. I've seen a hunter get gutted by this thing. Didn't see it personally, just the aftereffects.

Okay, I've lived a lot longer than a few months...but I'm a trucker. And the only other person I heard of who got away put more than a thousand miles between where she was and where she'd been.

Still, if you think someone's got some information, maybe it'd be best to try and find out what they know...

Much appreciated.

Wouldn't be for *my* sake, though... If anyone has seen him, they may need help, ASAP.

Eilonwy Solstice wrote:

Slendy Hunter wrote:The stories go on and on about this thing... I've had a narrow escape, myself, and I think it's just how much I travel that's kept me alive as long as it has...

Anything you’d like us to be mindful for, Mr. Burton?

All sortsa things, miss, but in this case, be wary of people bein' constantly forgetful when they never usedta be. Also be wary of folks who suddenly change their attitudes and their behaviors. If they get paranoid over every little thing, constantly watching their backs or video taping, or hiding in their rooms, getting them the hell outta there might just save their lives. And I don't mean down the block, or across the city. I mean to the other side of the goddamned country. This ain't nothin' to screw around with.

I almost forgot... Another thing to watch out for is this symbol--looks like a circle with a big "X" through it. You see that posted anywhere, you get yourself to the nearest vehicle and get to drivin', and just pray you haven't pissed him off.

This story happened about 12 years ago, and has nothing to do with Slenderman... My daughter was 4, and started telling me she had this friend named Tommy. Now little kids have imaginary friends all the time, so I didn't really think anything about it, even when things started showing up broken and my li'l girl was blaming it on Tommy.

Then she said she knew a "scary monster" named Toto who lived in (you guessed it) the closet. I tried *everything* to make her stop seeing this imaginary monster. She said Tommy hated Toto, and on more than one occasion, my wife and me'd wake in the middle of the night to hear a loud ruckus in our daughter's room. When we'd get there, all her toys would be dragged out, shelves knocked over, so on, so forth... Looked like she was playin' too rough, 'cuz none of it was ever anything a toddler couldn't do, but she always said that Tommy and Toto were fightin'.

Well, then one day she tells me that Tommy loves her more than Mommy and Daddy do... That really set me off. I wasn't really thinkin' about the things Lazlo said, about kids seeing the supernatural and stuff; the few run-ins with actual supernatural baddies I'd had that time had been pretty much nothing but a couple of gremlins and a handful of ghouls. I knew so little... In retrospect, I should've seen it all coming.

So I tell her to stop talking about Tommy. I told her I didn't want to hear any more about him. Tommy or Toto or anyone else that wasn't real. Well, that set HER off, big-time, and she starts cryin' and sayin' that they are real, and all that kinda typical toddler tantrumming.

I sent her to her room to calm down... Fifteen minutes later, there was this loud crash from her room, followed by this blood-chilling inhuman scream. And it was LOUD--I still don't know why the neighbors didn't call the cops about it. It shook the windows and vibrated the walls so bad things were falling off the shelf.

I grabbed my 6-shooter and the special lead-and-silver mix bullets I keep and bolted up the stairs. She wasn't in the room. The closet door was open, and there were bloody footsteps leading into the closet...