Splatterpunk's Not Dead by Jack Bantry

Author:Jack Bantry
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Splatterpunk Zine
Published: 2016-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Uploaded 3 Weeks Ago

“Hey guys. Did you miss me?”

She’s back. Very few young vloggers stick to a schedule. Some never even make a second video, forgetting about that silly dream of internet stardom after their first video fails to break fifty views.

But this girl. She’s got moxie. We’re all in agreement there.

Moxie and a black eye. She’s tried to hide the injury with concealer, but she must not have watched a tutorial on that, either: the bruise is glaringly apparent.

Whatever happened to her eye must have happened not long after she recorded her last video, because the mark has already begun to heal. There’s a thin crescent of discoloration against the bridge of her nose that’s brownish instead of a dark, attractive purple.

Her makeup technique is no better, but she’s learned some video production tricks.

This video has a custom thumbnail. Also the lighting and framing is worlds better.

This is quality content.

“So I got a few responses to the last video, some comments, and I thought I’d go through and address some of them.”

We all lean a little bit closer to our screens at hearing this. It doesn’t matter the size of the screen, even if we’re watching on a phone and could more easily lift the screen closer to us, we still lean forward.

Because maybe she’s going to address our questions directly.

Maybe she’s going to say our name.

“The request I received the most was if I could play you all something on my violin. And maaaaaybe I will if we can get my page to 100 subscribers by next week, but I don’t think I’m feeling up to it today.”

She touches the side of her face with the bruise, but doesn’t address it directly.

Melody: you’re holding out on us.

How did you hurt your eye?

We all want to know.

“And then there were some comments that were...” she pauses, searching for the words in, by this point, her trademark, cutie-pie way. “Let’s call them rude.”

She looks deeper into the camera.

“I had to delete many of them. Sorry, pervs! This is a family show.”

She smiles, changing the subject, switching gears with an almost audible click as her smile brightens.

“There was one other common viewer request that I think I can give you all the hook up with.”

She reaches both hands under the frame and our collective hearts leap because not only can we see a little further down her shirt, but she comes back up holding...

A fish tank?

An empty fish tank, with a fog of condensation on the sides and cling wrap over the lid.

“You all wanted to meet Pablo the hermit crab. And he wants to meet you!”

She removes the lid, lifts out a pathetic little creature in an oversized shell. She places Pablo flat on one hand. A few seconds elapse as she waits silently for him to poke his antennae under his shell. He tastes the air, then pops his eye stalks and legs out and makes a beeline for the edge of her hand.

“Nope. Yer not allowed to play outside of your cage, buddy.

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