Creepypasta - The Story of Spongebob Racist Pants

Alternative title: The Darkest, The Meanest, The Ugliest: SpongeBob Racist Pants

Hi, I'm Joel. Joel McWhogivesafuck. It's a hybrid last name from Greek and Irish origins. Anyway, I'm here to warn you, yeah warn you about a certain child friendly show with many hints of adult humor equally distributed throughout that has a main character based off of a real "person" who's entire life is a lie, that's right, misrepresented, intentionally inaccurate, big fat hickey on your dickey, sticky on your clitty lie! Of course,  to make a short story long, and to make you groan in agony because I know you're just thinking this supposed "made up" shit is just another one of those spooky spaghetti stories kids make up on the interweb for poop & giggles, that this just HAS to be some no life loser with too much time on his hands contributing to that same pile of cliche'd nonsense mountain of diarrheoral leukemia. Well, I'll have you know I DO have a job, it's a very shitty job! But it's a job! I work with kids! So many, many stupid, irritating, uneducated, loud, mouth breathing, high pitched giggling, millennial mosh pit infested kids that drive me up the wall every freaking day! Or at least 5 days of the week. And it sucks! Ok! No one ever respects me! My life is a total freaking joke! Oh, so why read a story written by someone who's life is total freaking joke? Well, because it's one hell of a total freaking joke! That's why! It's a joke you just have to see to believe and the same can be said for the everlasting torture I was forced to endure just last year! That's right, it was 2017! (If you're reading this years after 2018 obviously it was posted in 2018 you ape).

I had just gotten home from a morning shift I was called in to cover for. All of a sudden, I heard a whisper, a high pitched whisper that sounded like parkinson's  disease of the mouth or maybe (in a high pitched voice): "TIRE PRESSURE!", it screamed at me. I then see a face being invisibly drawn on the windshield of a hummer in the shape of what looks like a talking square, only an extremely angry talking square! One that looks like it will cut your throat open but keep you alive just long enough to make you watch him rape your sister. "Patrick, you don't have a sister." Oh, right thanks. Wait, what the frick? My name's not Patrick? My name is..... Joel.... and I do have a sister. She's really hawt! So I've been told. We're just a small Jewish family with a mix of Irish and Greek hybrid that ancestry professors are still trying to figure out and explain to us in more logical detail and WHY THE HELL IS THIS ANGRY LOOKING CHEESE CUBE TALKING TO ME FROM AN EMBODIED POORYLY DRAWN WINDSHIELD SHAPE? "Hey, I'm not poorly drawn! I'm ready! Dahahahha! I'm ready! I'm the final rendition right here, bbbbbbbiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitchah!" "My name's Dillybob!", he said in a southern voice. "I grew up in North Carolina with my meemaw and golden retriever Felix! He almost got put down for aids, but bless his heart and thank the lord he was saved by a miracle! So, you said that your name's Joel? And that you're a Jew? I hate Jews! I want to take all the Jews in the world and show them a real meaning of a holocaust: throw 'em sonsubitches all up in a dadgum train, lock dem doors up and lauch them into another dimension where they'll burn alive! Now that's a holocaust, bbbbbbbbiiiiiiiiiiiitchah!" I was shaking trying to speak. No, I---I didn't have Parkinson's of the mouth, I just.... uh. "Oh, well I don't know if I'm Jewish for sure! They're still doing research on my Irish-Greek heritage so, possibilities show they really don't know what I am for sure!" Dillybob replies, "Well, gee. I don't know what all of that shit means. I guess if you don't know for sure, then I can't go killin' someone that could just be another innocent white boy like maself. I mean you look white, ya'll sound white. Guess that's good 'nough for me." Dillybob jumped out of the hummer drawing into the fullgrown mutated midget sponge with arms and legs, a shirt and tie, but no pants! Nope. He had Hitler underwear with a combed realistic Hitler mustache shaped pubic hair ball sticking out on the sides. A small bulge peaked the middle and seemed to get bigger whenever he went on about how much he hates Jews and colored people. Not by much though. "Hey, fuck you Joel! I'm packing!" Yeah.... This is the sponge you kids laugh at so much on that Dickaloadofshit channel! On his back, lies an ever so sickening rendition of a swastika tattoo only with people of all races being impaled on the edges. Surprisingly, despite the gruesome racism, it's not half bad art work. What? I'm just saying the artist isn't that bad even if it happens to be- "I'm the artist bbbbbbbbbbiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitchah!" Dillybob screamed. "But, how can you reach behi-" Dillybob then shows me his incredible ability to extend his arms and touch old ladies in the privacy of their own houses near by and also mark his symbol by drawing the same swastika on their living room walls. "You know what I really hate other than Jews, Joel? Mexicans! Mexicans are sooooooo stupid and annoying! And horny! Ooohhh let's not forget that one! So very very very horny! All they do is come over here and shove their business in everyone! It's disgusting! They're disgusting! I hate them all so much! So very much Joel! Trump shouldn't build a wall for them! He should build a cage and entrap them all! A really small cage for them to suffocate in! I tell ya what I ought to do is impale them all on our great American fag- I mean flag and lunch-I mean launch them all into space on fire! Then it'll go down in history as The Incredible Flammin' Spics On A Stick! Dahahahahaha! I'm ready! I'm ready!" The voice then got deeper, demonically deeper. "I'm ready, I'm ready! I'M RACISSSSSST! I'M RACIST! AND PROUD!".  Ok, I've had enough of this little midget hic. What he was doing and saying is just not cool. "Hey, Dillholebob! Knock that shit off! What have Jews and Hispanics ever done to you, ya racist bigot uglier Verne Troyer!" Dilly bob's face grew into a furious frown, his eyes went into the back of his head, blood oozed out the top of his lids and his teeth grew sharp like that of a bear trap. In the most demonic voice I've ever heard I then hear, "You'd better run for your life, you disgraceful block of Swiss!" Which I did! I ran like hell, not just because someone ironically had the song by Pink Floyd playing outside their window, either I ran so fast my knees were literally screaming at me in agony from how fast I was running! I thought I was going run my both of legs off. Until I reached the library and did some research online about Dillybob.

Apparently, it's quite the unknown conspiracy that Dillybob and Spongebob have quite a connection. Someone on Redit Claims Dillybob is the soul reincarnation of Dillon Richardson of North Carolina who passed away in a motorcycle accident at age 16 in the Winter of 1997. He was extremely racist and hateful as well as, anti-religious, which his meemaw forbidden him from many times and encouraged him to go to church with the rest of his family. Shortly after the day of his accident, his meemaw fell into a great depression and never left the house for a year! There was word she contemplated a Satanic resurrection book to bring him back but likely, this was just sheer stirred up craziness right before she killed herself accidently when opening the fridge to get some milk not remembering she removed everything out of the fridge due to the fact everything expired in June, the empty fridge she bolt locked shut fell forward and crushed her. In the family room, was a pentagram with a kitchen sponge in the middle of it she likely forgot was there because she'd wipe down the floor quite often, even in this state of depression. Annnd.....There ya have it. Stephen Hillenburg was a close friend of the Richardson's. One night Dillybob terrorized an entire asylum close to Lawton, Oklahoma where Hillenburg grew up. After hearing of this, he would have what he believed were vivid disturbing dreams about Dillybob urging him to tell people he meant "business" in this world. He took this instead inspiration to take such a fucked up disturbing character and give him long eyelashes, shirt AND pants and a flamboyant high pitched voice for children.  Because he didn't listen to Dillybob the rage and racism grows ever more in him with each passing day. "What a retarded load of cow shit!" I said. But I knew inside it had to be real. I also knew inside I had diarrhea. Sorry, TMI? Well, IDGS: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT OKAY?! Correction: I can't! Nothing but a brown creek of worthlessness given to you as a lovely painted mental image. Fuck off! Anyway, Dillybob was a downright lunatic hillbilly kid with serious insanity and hatred that was going to devour every non-European and Jewish person on the planet. For some reason, I got bored with researching really fast. I went to Newgrounds and watched some uder judgment movies. One of them was downright trippy dippy dawg. Straight up my ni.... ninjas! (Please don't hit me again, ghost of Charles Barkley's brother). The movie started with a poorly ms paint drawn Sean Penn with a circle body and rectangle legs just staring into my soul with emptiness ( I mean it's not like you'd find much in there. Hmmm. Maybe my love for Jesus Christ? Or inspirational ideas that would change a generation in the snap of broken neck with enough cooperation?)  His face got smaller. Mainly his pupils which then grew into blood shot demonic eyes accompanied by a demonic voice, even though his mouth wasn't moving. It was saying things... things alright. Out of nowhere, some quality animation shows up of a crime scene which was actually partially live action with two police officers named Harry and Llyod. The scene was full of semen and blood. But mostly semen. There were arms and legs cut up like onions and a decapitated head of what looked like a famous rapper? Officer Llyod then says: "Gee, Hair. I never thought Tupac's little bro would go out like this." Officer Harry just stood in awestruck shock at the mess and shook his head in denial. I nearly puked as Llyod reached down to pull a hair out of the blood and semen. The movie ended abruptly.  "Well that was something.", I said. Hey, who the fuck are you to question avant-garde non-sequitur expressionism? No one. That's who. I mean what am I? Who am I? I don't even exist. At least in four parts of my head I don't! Surely, my name isn't really Joel. Joel the Jew. Yeah, that adds up. Surely this has some kind of representation to the surrealistic nightmare that is my life washing dishes for a living at only thirty four hours a week, minimum wage and respect given so little, a little shit selling girl scout cookies could get it faster and maybe, just MAYBE I fail to explain things with enough logical clarity because there's a dancing monkey in my head literally mocking my every action and criticizing my choices as a control freak like no other. Ohhhhh, fudge turkey froooooozen snot jizz on a tree branch stick! You don't know the half of it and don't worry! You likely never will! I don't have all the answers ok? I don't know the vault combination to all the lost episode tapes there is. Not to mention their European counter part versions. Or why George Jetson smokes weed outside my mailbox every Tuesday from 8:33 to 8:36 then vanishes into the wind. I don't know why I have a video tape of Clint Eastwood and Adam West having a farting contest live on the sunset strip. I don't know how I know that Jay Z married a yetti and the Hollywood press never knew. I don't know how Thomas Edison invented a fantasy sex machine and kept it all to himself. I don't know why a rubber garden hose makes good dick licorice it just does! John Lennon has a hide out on Jupiter full of meth, Steve Tyler loves reading White Genocide fan fiction. I like stories about communists eating fish. Robin Williams suicide was staged by Billy Crystal's Mom. Jeff Goldblum wears lady's underwear. Anna Kendrick has a dick. Whenever there's a fire in Iceland my nipples get hard. A lab rat's favorite meal of the day is government cheese! When it's snowing outside I like to take off my pants and yell at a fire hydrant. Sperm from a rhino is un-editable and will give you Lou Garrett's disease or Lou Diamond Phillips' disease. Pudding is ok to eat sometimes. FAIL! Damn. I'll never be a professional improv comic with that last one! Anyway. Hopefully you still have your tickle me Elmo next to that Season 1 DVD of Girls. They'll never come out as long as he keeps laughing. Holy shit if I left the oven on again I'm going to scream like a girl and run around this table three times until the Fifty Shades of Gay book sitting next to me on it floats in the air. I don't how that got there. Some four-eyed brown kid was reading it not me, ya dumb fart knocker. You don't know anything. Fuck.

"BASH". Dillybob broke into the library. Everyone vanished into dust. I was alone. Dillybob wanted me. No not like that! He wanted to cut me up or something. "Ehhhh, wrong answer Joely boy! I DO want you like that!" Dillybob grew a spiked dildo erection the size of a giant chain saw! It was so sharp and it made a noise like a chainsaw! As I ran like hell, the fear sprung up stupid courage within me to try to talk this thing down. "Stop Dillon! I change my mind! I'll join you and your racist rampage!" Dillybob menacingly responds, "Es ist mir jetzt egal." Which means he doesn't care anymore. There were decapitated Muppet heads and marshmallow shaped Bruce Springstein sculptures being launched at me and screaming. Screaming a high pitched sound that made me shit myself. Jokes on them! It came out solid. They cured my diarrhea. Suckers. I had nowhere to go as a giant Bill Cosby head came out of the ground and looked directly into me. "You know, Joel. Life is like one big pre-ejaculation: The best of it always ends too soon! Coo coo cagoogoo! JEWWWWW! You're a Jew! Dirty ass silly Jew! Remember when you said pudding is just ok? WELL, I DISAGREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Fuck your shirt too! Harvey Weinstein's a Russian Communist that knocked up a Kardashian on 9/11! Apple Sauce and Butter Scotch, time to spank my jerky again! Wooo weeeeeee!" Mr. Cosby went back into the ground. But Dillybob was gone. I don't know how but I think Mr. Cosby saved me. Guess they weren't working together after all. Could've fooled me. Hmm. I went back to eat some poptarts and watch the Andy Griffith Show with my kitty. Seemed like some quality family entertainment nostalgia was just the thing to kill off the insanity of all that I experienced. Later that night after settling in bed I got up to piss, when I heard a whisper in my potato salad I accidently left out again. Then out of nowhere, "DAHAHAHAHA! What'd ya think of The Last Jedi Joel?! I thought it was a total sellout! Mr. Lucas should kill himself for letting the franchise get this trendy!", I was stuttering frantically. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I DON'T KNOW! I STILL HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET! I'M WAITING FOR IT TO COME OUT IN THE CHEAPSKATE THEATER. GEEZ." I shut my fridge, took some time to breathe, then opened it again. Everything was gone. "Oh, like all your unhealthy bachelor dinners that are loaded with sodium? When are you going to learn to cook, Mike- I Mean Joel?" "When are you going to learn to stop talking to me like such a faggot?!" "So, Joel." Dillybob said standing right in front of me now. "Do you always talk to your ceiling?" "I think a better question is why are you in my potato salad? Which is technically something I cooked." Dillybob laughed a menacingly loud disturbing echo-ey laugh like none I've ever heard and jumped up my nostrils like string cheese. That was it. Yup. Now, I have two monkey's dancing around in my head to this day. And I have aids. I'm almost a thirty year old virgin so I'm still trying to figure that shit out. Anyway, I have to go now. There's a 3 o'clock appointment of critique and mockery I have to yell at myself in the mirror over. I swear if my neighbors call the cops on me one more time, I'll shit in their microwave. Cocks.

Peanut butter goes great with pudding ya know!