Decaying Poetry By A Man In Red – A Creepypasta Tale From 2020TOO

…He takes a long, deep drag upon the cigar, before pulling it free and blowing a waft of smoke across the room. “There was a time way back when, when I knew everyone’s name without even taking a moment to think. I could crack a dozen, and then another, and still have time to recite a dozen more. Now I can’t remember if I shook it once or twice after I drain it.” he grunts before he stops and stares up into the stars before taking another drag on the cigar.

“T-T-Then why d-do you keep on doing it? W-W-Why don’t you h-h-hand it off to s-someone new?” Nev asks nervously.

“I think you’re getting me confused with Tim Allan and Disney’s spin on the whole gig. Anyway, even if it was real and I did pass it on, who else would I get to do the job? You?”

“I-I-I, I c…” he doesn’t get to finish his reply before the old man starts laughing loudly.

“YOU AIN’T BUILD FOR THIS JOB STEVEN, YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THE ONE YOU’RE TRYING TO DO NOW!”

“I-I-I, I could, I COULD DO IT!”

“Steven,” he says with exhausted breath as he leans forward and allows a halfhearted smile to wriggle across his lips that hide beneath his white mustache. “I’ve watched you your entire life. I’ve seen your ups, and I’ve seen your downs. I’ve seen you succeed, and I’ve seen you fail….

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