Shadow Dream Girl - A Bennet the Sage Psychological Horror Tale

[Gendo's Ocular Dickhole]

That prose is aggressively pretentious and vacuous.

Soylent the Gayge in a nutshell.

[wulfenlord]

Wow, he even went back to the cesspool of literal Hitler. And made a trailer for this pretentious garbage. It's pretentious garbage as well :3

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

Yikes. I know it's longer than ERod's "debut novel", but not by much looking at this photo.
And speaking of ERod: Remember how he opened with some noir-esque description of the city (which was mostly confusing nonsense about knife winds), which he never really did after that because he was too busy speedrunning the plot? I hope Benito will also stop with this Eye of Argon style verbosity.

Stan. *fingers tapping on the keyboard
If...
If this guy is a fag, I'm not completing this book. I'm telling you right now. Sorry. Life is too short to waste on this homo shit.

Relax. The plot is about him meeting some mysterious waifu. He won't stay homo for long.

What about Stan, you sissy?

He never wants to cuddle after shooting his load into Ian

[Complicity]

>not a single detail of my mundane and derivative setting shall go undescribed

The Tolkien of our generation.

In the far corner of a musty waiting room, a man had slumped in his chair, his head drooped low enough for his chin to meet his chest. With thin legs awkwardly splayed out, and bony hands left to dangle limply at his sides, he would have appeared to be dead; if not for the soft snores that struggled to escape his mouth, as well as the occasional twitch and jerking shift of his slight frame.

Spoony?
Nah, going to a doctor is too much effort.

That prose is aggressively pretentious and vacuous.

The prose is like the writer:
Hiding a lack of intelligence, knowledge and creativity behind a mask of pseudo-intellectualism.
This is why i hate his guts so much; somehow a lot of people believe he's not as bad as Robert, and his retarded opinions about old animu matter.

o here's the cover to the National Geographic he mentions :

SpoilerShow

So, this and the arterial map of the brain hanging in the doc's office, DO YOU THINK THIS MIGHT BE IMPORTANT LATER??!!! DERP!

It's official, Spurdo is ripping off Saya No Uta.
A (hentai of course) VN about a guy who has brain damage because of a car accident, his perception of reality completely altered, sees the world as permanently covered in pulsating gore, sees other people as monstrous blobs, can't eat normal food anymore because the taste is unbearable.
He just replaced that with a self-insert faggot who has Sarah Wilson's "panic attacks" muh narcolepsy.
Later on, the hentai protag is going to meet a waifu who looks attractive to him, but she's obviously a human flesh-eating monster.
Guess what's going to happen next in Shadow Dream MarzGunt?

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

You'd think narcolepsy would lend itself to also rip off the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Dude suddenly zones out, and when he wakes up again he's in an entirely different part of town with blood-covered hands. Easy-peasy.

It's official, Spurdo is ripping off Saya No Uta.

I figured that out without National Geographic

[Complicity]

It's official, Spurdo is ripping off Saya No Uta.

I figured that out without National Geographic

I wanted to give him a crumb of benefit of the doubt, hoping he would change the story at least a little, like Brad did when he killed his Laura in Class of '86.
But NO SUBTLE BRAIN MAP IN YOUR FACE SO SUBTLE YEAH.

You'd think narcolepsy would lend itself to also rip off the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

Not enough loli rape for Benito in that one.

Yikes. I know it's longer than ERod's "debut novel", but not by much looking at this photo.

I'm more impressed by the size of those tits he has.

[Kugelfisch]

>song of saya
I hope not.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

You're just hating on her because you keep getting roflstomped by her in Nitroplus Blasterz.

[Kugelfisch]

She should've been in Melty Blood instead.

[pibbs]

The DHI Autistic Book Club

Shadow Dream Girl
by Bennet “The Sage” White
Chapter 2: The Wish version of Clerks
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Ian returns to Millie's Rentals where he works. We spend about two pages of description of the building.

...the building had a certain, captivating ugliness about it. It was oddly shaped, reminiscent of a round-roof barn, but instead of a gradual curve, the roof came down in short angles while maintaining a flat-top; not unlike...

...the angled arch at the top, was weather-beaten and had been the target of many a delinquent's thrown rock. If not for it's time and history...

...the place was perfectly pitiful: the kind of washed-up, past-its-prime, mom-and-pop store that clings to life in spite of logic. He had ample time every day to ponder the building's tragic existence...

And on and on with this shit.

Then he whines in his thoughts about the bad therapy session.

Turns out Stan is a co-worker and not a butt-buddy. Ian is miffed that Stan was so thoughtless about him having to use his Tuesday lunch for therapy and not food, because Stan got ham and pineapple on all of his pizza and Ian didn't like that.

”It's Tuesday, Stan.”
Stan furrowed his brow at the non-response he had received, “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Ian had peered down into the box, realizing that the pie was completely covered in ham and pineapple. Frustrated, he slammed the lid of the box down, “Forget it, I'll just wait until dinner.”

This goes on for a minute. I think Bennet forgot about food delivery here.

“Oh yeah, now I remember. Sorry dude, it slipped my mind and I ordered a whole Hawaiian. You're welcome to have some, if you're hungry.”
Ian merged his fingers into a steeple, bringing both of his hands to his face and over his nose. He took a deep breath to calm his rising nerves, “Stan, why have I always asked for our pizzas to be half pepperoni if I would just eat Hawaiian?”
“Alright, fine,” Stan dismissed, “I guess I'm just the asshole today.”
Today?, Ian stopped himself from saying out loud.

Yeah, Stan is the asshole, here.

And then we get endless paragraphs, IN DETAIL, of Ian stocking the shelves. I'm not kidding. Here's a just a small sample:

Sure enough, waiting for him in the office, was a taped up box. It presented itself on a fake-wooden desk, sitting along with scattered papers and a dingy iMac that wore scuffs and scrapes from years of intermittent use. At the computer's side was a bar-code scanner that never left its cradle, permanently joined to the computer by cable. It was Ian's and Stan's job to not only order and keep inventory of every DVD...

What the fuck is Bennet doing here? How can anyone be so oblivious to how boring this is?

His fingers pried at the tape, and he yanked the length of it off as if he was trying to start a motor. He ripped and clawed until the box opened, revealing a couple dozen DVDs: each DVD needing to be adorned with a green “NEW RELEASE!” sticker, each DVD needing to be protected from theft, each DVD needing to be scanned and cataloged into the computer system, each DVD needing yet another sticker on the back with the store's name and address printed on it, and each DVD needing to be hauled off and presented on the New Release Shelf.

I'm almost fascinated by how needlessly mundane this is.
Ian fixates on a particular DVD. We get every detail except the title, the genre, or who the actors are. It has holographic ink, though.
Ian calls Stan over, because Ian is sure that they had stocked that movie before. The EXACT copy he was holding, in fact.

“I mean that exact movie, you jackass.” Ian couldn't hide his mounting annoyance, not when Stan got sarcastic, “I distinctly remember seeing that exact DVD in the store before.”
“Well, Ian, you can just look it up in our database instead of prying me away from my movie. That would definitely answer your question.”

Oh right, there were several paragraphs describing the Sinatra movie Stan had been watching when Ian returned to the store. My mind glazed over that, I guess.

Ian finishes up stocking the shelves. Riveting.

He could only suck in a deep breath to try and calm his fraying nerves. He placed the bridge of his nose in the webbed arch between his thumb and index finger, letting his hand envelop his face so he could rub his temples to ease himself back into his job.

Amazing! I was doing this very thing just now.

Ian was prepared to be a living statue: a modern art installation that was perpetually face-palming at the state of current Hollywood, if it meant that he would finally have the time to ease his mind. Calm came at a gradual and considered pace, spreading through his body by working its way down to his shoulders and chest before reaching his heart, slowing it's heightened pulse down. He let go of his face and let out another sigh before stretching his neck left and right. He finally felt like he could face the remainder of the day.

Finally, something, anything, happens.

There, at the far wall that separated the stairwell, were two men with their backs toward Ian. Huddled together, the men snickered and mumbled to themselves, giddy over some film in the store's inventory. Ian couldn't make out what they were saying to each other, but he recognized the frame of the taller one, and thereby concluded who the other one was. “Either rent something, or leave Brians!” Ian scolded.

“We're gonna! We just wanted to check out the sci-fi section!” The taller Brian admitted.
“It's the same shit you idiots have seen time and time again!” Ian's carefully laid calm had now completely dissipated, “I am so not in the mood to deal with you gibbering chuckle-fucks. Rent, or leave.”

The Brians must be Bennet's Jay and Silent Bob but worse, because we get that Clerks Star Wars scene, but worse.

“Yeah, Brian and I just wanted to see it again.” The taller Brian answered, “Are you an Alien guy, or an Aliens guy?”
Stan kept his eyes glued to the computer, “Neither. I much prefer William Gibson's Alien 3, if you must know. Shame they didn't go with his script. Whose account is this going on?”
The taller Brian raised his hand, “Mine, and Alien 3 sucked.”

After the Brians leave...

Ian... “I hate those guys so much.”
“You're not the one who was in nose shot of those greasy morons. I swear, Weissbart bathes in spoiled milk.”

And that's the end of the chapter.

Fucking amazing.