We Are CrazyBus

What's your favorite music? Well it sucks. Every answer you could possibly give is complete trash.
That is, except for one, and that is the CrazyBus title theme. It's pure. It's unrestrained. It's not bound to normal conventions. No matter what you call your favorite song, if you listen to it too many times, you will eventually get tired of it. CrazyBus could never do that to you. It's not even the same thing each time you listen to it.
This is the only music I listen to - all other music is trite garbage to me. John Williams himself could never compare.
My friends mocked me and left my side. My entire family disowned me. I was even pulled over by the police one time for blasting the CrazyBus title theme from my car, when they wouldn't even bat an eye at another car blasting King Crimson even louder.
I thought I was alone. I thought I was the only one who knew the one good song. But then one day, when I was walking the streets at night, I heard someone blasting the CrazyBus title theme. I had to find the source. I had to find my people - the people I never knew I had.
Then I saw it. A bus. I saw a bus. It was blasting from a bus. The CrazyBus theme was blasting from a bus. THE bus. The bus from CrazyBus. The CrazyBus. It was the CrazyBus from CrazyBus. The CrazyBus theme was blasting from the CrazyBus from CrazyBus.
I had nowhere to go, but I knew I had to enter that bus right now. Lucky for me, it was at a bus stop, and the doors were open. This was my time.
I stepped inside the CrazyBus to see that it was full of people. Some were fresh, and some were in various stages of decomposition, but they all had huge smiles on their faces, surely because they were listening to the best song ever. There was no driver, but the CrazyBus drove around on its own, surely so everyone could focus on listening to the music.
The doors closed behind me with a click that conveyed to me that nothing and no one could possibly open them save for the CrazyBus itself, but I had no worry. I had no reason to leave. None of us did. We were all on the bus ride of our entire lives.
From out of the windows, we saw another person walking down the street. The moment he heard the music, he covered his ears and speed-walked away. Immediately we heard the CrazyBus' engines rev up (but not too loud as to drown out the sweet music). It sped up at a speed far faster than any normal bus, chasing the man. He ran fast, but the CrazyBus was faster, and before he could even so much as let out a scream, he was nothing but a blood splatter on the windshield, which the wipers made quick work of. We all laughed at this fool's demise. Even the decaying and skeletal riders laughed.
The CrazyBus continued to drive around town, running over the many haters. Then it left the town. Then it left the continent, driving across the surface of the ocean. It would drive all over the world, collecting the true music enjoyers and running over the haters, but every year on the 14th of August it would return to its homeland in Venezuela, where it would drive around peacefully, picking up and running over no one. Its music would be quiet to the outside world, but us riders could gracefully still hear it from within. To the outside, the CrazyBus would honk its horn seemingly randomly, but we, possessing true knowledge that outsiders lacked, knew it was always the right time to honk.
Then came midnight the 15th, and the CrazyBus would leave the sacred lands, cranking up its music to the outside world once again, and continuing its sifting of listeners.
We are CrazyBus. The CrazyBus eventually comes for us all. You will join us, or you will be run over by us.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Music
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck