Alright so this was supposed to be my entry for the upcoming voice acting contents, but it runs a little long so I'm putting it towards this years Creepy Pasta Jam.

Oh.... and the crustman was a very real story my mom actually told me when I was a kid when I tried skipping out on eating the crust. I was a dumb kid and didn't chance it, but I still remember thinking about "The Crustman"

SFX Used:

Toaster_2.wav by coldwellw -- https://freesound.org/s/172755/ -- License: Attribution 4.0

Ringtone: GVC desk phone by knufds -- https://freesound.org/s/345808/ -- License: Creative Commons 0

Footsteps - Wood by Fewes -- https://freesound.org/s/234263/ -- License: Attribution 3.0

Music: Corny Candy - The Soundlings https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ih0xEtAUkFo (Youtube audio library)

TRANSCRIPT:

((Greetings noobs and gamers and welcome to another edition of Newgrounds grave tales. Sometimes raising a child can be difficult and sometimes you tell them little lies to get them to obey. In tonight's story, we see what happens one of these little white lies, becomes a dark tale. We now exhume the tale.... of the crustman.

*Toaster click*

The popping of a toaster - a normal, everyday sound that many hear. It's the sound of a morning kitchen, maybe the start of a of a busy day, or perhaps a relaxing brunch with friends and family.

To me, it's a dreadful sound. A horrid sound, a sound that I will never be free of.

Let me take you back to my childhood. To one of my earliest memories in fact. It's a fall morning and it's the year before I start school, so I'm still home with my mom. I'm sitting at the kitchen table munching on toast and jam while my mother does the morning dishes.

"I'm done," I say in the confidence that only little kids can project. I start to push myself away from the table.

"No your not," My mother says. "You haven't even finished your toast."

I furrow my brow and look at the plate. I've clearly eaten the good part of the toast. All that was left was the nasty crusty bit.

"I don't like the crust," I said defiantly. "It's yucky" - Yucky being the ultimate declaration of distaste my 4 year old mind could muster.

"If you don't eat the crust, then the crust man will get you." my mother declared, intent on the kitchen sink.

"The crust man?" I asked

"Yes, if you don't finish your toast, the crust man will come and take you away."

I looked at her wide-eyed. Even at my young age, I had been warned of strangers - evil people who would try to steal children away from loving families.

"I'm serious," she said.

I sighed and chewed on the part of crust. My tiny mind reeling with this information. If Santa was real, surely the crust man could be as well.

I spent the rest of the day playing, but after I went to bed, my mind started to wander.

Who was the crustman? What would he look like? Was he made of toast? For some reason I kept picturing a looming figure wearing a trench coat and hat, reaching out with stiff, crusty fingers.

And how did he know if you finished your toast or not? Again my mind went to Santa, whom my parents told me they had a direct line with. It had to be the same thing.

*phone ring*

I heard the phone ring. Could it be? Could it be the crustman checking in on me?

I got out of bed and snuck towards my bedroom door and quietly opened it. My bedroom was at the top of a stairwell that connected to the kitchen, so I could hear a lot.

"Yeah, he's in bed. He tried not eating the all his breakfast, so I made up something about a crustman...."

Made up? My mother had lied.... surely parents wouldn't lie...

I crept back into bed, my mind alternating between the image I conjured of the crustman and the conversation I overheard. What was real anymore? Finally I fell asleep.

*toast pop*

The toaster popped and I gave the two slices of bread that came out a hard look.

"Something wrong honey?" My mother asked. "You've been quiet all morning."

"I'm okay," I lied.

As I slowly chewed on my toast, a plan began to form. I waited for my mother to turn her back... and I pocketed the crust.

"I'm finished," I said. "Can I go outside?" My mother looked over my plate and nodded. "Alright, just stay in the yard so I can see you."

I pushed myself away from the table and put on my coat and sneakers. I headed out to our yard.

Our house was backed by woods so disposing of the incriminating curst was easy enough. I chucked crust into the woods and looked around nervously.

I felt off. I knew I had done something wrong, but if my mom was lying about this, surely it was okay for me to lie as well.

A foreboding fell over me as I carried on the day. It was like something was looming.

The day carried on and I waited for.... something to happen, but it never did.

Finally it was time for bed. I crawled in, satisfied that if I never wanted to eat crust again, I could just repeat my actions of the day.

*ring*

My blood went cold. I scrambled out of bed so I could listen in on my mothers conversation.

"ring*

Why wasn't my mother answering?

*ring*

I crept downstairs, expecting at any moment to be caught by my mom. But it didn't happen. Where was she?

*ring*

I got to the kitchen. I looked at the phone as it rang. I wasn't really suppose to answer it at my age.

*ring*

It felt like the ringing came more insistent. I stepped towards the phone.

"He.... hello"

"Hello naughty naughty one."

"Um"

"Naughty boy has not finished his crust. Time for crustman to visit."

My tiny mind reeled.

"I'm coming naughty boy."

I dropped the phone, and ran back to my room.

"Mom? Mommy?" I cried out as I closed the door to my room, wrapping myself in the covers.

No body came. Just silence.

I waited, it was starting to get hot under the sheets.

The door to my room opened. I heard footsteps approaching my bed.

"Mom?"

The footsteps stopped. I trembled.

It became unbearably hot under the covers. I had to look.

A dark, looming figure stood over me.

"Naughty boy, didn't eat his crust." It said. "Time to come with the crustman."

It reached out, sleeves pulling back to reveal fingers made of gnarly, burnt curst. Closer and closer they came....

I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I bit.

"Noooooo," it shreaked, pulling back. The hand was now missing two digits.

I chewed. It was dry, unpleasant, cold.... but I chewed and I swallowed.

As I did, the crustman began to crumble, falling to crumbs before my eyes.

Then he was gone.

"Honey? Are you allright? Did you have a bad dream?"

"My moms voice came from the hallway. I sat in bed trembling."

She came in and comforted me. "Oh honey, it's alright, it was just a nightmare I'm sure."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

"But honey.... why is there a pile of crumbs next to your bed?"

**

A child's imagination can be one of the strongest forces in the world? Could it be so strong as to bring into existence those who dwell in the dark recesses of the mind? Until next time Noobs and Gamers.

Toaster pop

And remember, always eat your crust

*Laughter*