Dunwich: A Creepypasta Panfandom Game

Did I or did I not enter the Truman Show in the last five minutes? Legally you're obligated to tell me or my name isn't John McClane. Which it IS... NOT. It's Larry. Sherbet. Sorry. We can't always choose our names, it's fine. It's fine.

Everything is fine. Just cold. When did Florida get so cold?! It's not Florida. I get it. !!!!

Am I in New York!? No. It smells too good comparatively and the The Truman Show wasn't in New York. Damnit. I give. SOMEONE TELL ME I'M AT LEAST NOT IN CANADA

OR PUNK'D IS ASHTON KUTCHER HERE? 'Cause I'm ready for the photo op.

I need someone to come get me.
I'm by the Carbunkle house and I- well I don't have any shoes on.
I think I was sleepwalking.

( Maybe someone from PD )

So I'm definitely starting to get why everyone was saying that the lobsters were an easy time to get to town.

We could go back to the lobsters anytime now.

I'm so sorry to everyone that's sleepwalking. It's rubbish, especially when you wake up in Cardiff and you live in London. Not that anything like that's going to happen here, with the ghost line. But, like, even just waking up in the street outside your block of flats is pretty shit, all kinds of disorienting. Maybe we should put a load of extra locks on everyone's front doors. It wouldn't need to be actual physical locks, though. Right? Could the magic people do something? I dunno, spells on the doorways that only let people who're awake out of them? Or something like that, maybe. Just an idea.

Or there's always ankle restraints?