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The 404 Apocalypse (KYM Fanfiction)

Last posted Jan 30, 2010 at 03:48PM EST. Added Jan 27, 2010 at 09:26PM EST
19 posts from 11 users

|This is the story of the time Know Your Meme™ died. Yes, Tristan already made a story but this was written in the past but due to a paradox it is written now.


“Let them eat cake!” Marie Antoinette

It was never a bright day at my job as a meme researcher. It happened so often that it became generic to my co-workers. I would have

always written an article and it’d get rejected because another man would have already submitted merely minutes before I did. I became a laughing stock of the building. I started questioning my purpose.
Of course, my ridicule wouldn’t last long.
At least, it wouldn’t have it wasn’t for saving Know Your Meme. This is my story.

-June 26th, 2010.

It’s 7 months since I started my job.
I woke up from my slumber to my generic profile in Submissionopolis. The profile has no windows, no lights, no television, but an abyss of darkness. I approached my Comment Box to check my left messages. Surprisingly, I received a message from last night.

“Hello Zombie, just wanted to inform you that you shall be immediately revoked from your researcher status and reinstated as a Jr. Researcher. Also, make sure to get packing because you’re moving to Deadpool to work at the Deadpool research center. Good Luck! – Chris Menning”

My pessimistic life begins….

Chapter One – (Act One)

Adapt or perish, now as ever, is nature’s inexorable imperative. – H.G Wells

“Is that it?” Jostin asked while loading the rest of the boxes into the back of my truck.

“I should burn the rest of my entries..” I said looking thoroughly at my packing.

“No! They’re good and you know that. I guess the admins just didn’t respect your enthusiasm.” Jostin gently patted my back.

I just hesitantly sighed and walked slowly towards my truck to start a new life.

“Bye Jostin, thanks for the help.” I said thanking him one more time.


I opened the truck door and took my last glimpse of Submissionopolis. I hope I would returned one day, but my work just isn’t memetic potential, and it never will be.

As I drove off, Jostin still waited in front of my profile.

Even with his help, I still had a major dislike for Jostin. He was one of the reasons I started feeling insecure of my work and stopped contributing to it. The only time I ever really “contributed” is when a couple of users and I trolled around the Discussion Cafeteria.

About 10 minutes after driving towards my destination of Deadpool, I noticed a large advertisement from a Japanese website. The billboard spokes model was an old friend of mine, Watcher.

Watcher was one of the top ten researchers of KYM. Though, he was quiet and had never talked to anyone. I mentioned his name once during a meeting and he arrogantly called me a dick. I was wondering why a belligerently quiet person appeared in a Japanese advertisement. A peculiar thought it was, but I ignored it.

Though, my thoughts had rushed all through my head that I began dramatizing the admins admiring my work in a day dream. I started to drift off asleep.

“You’re work is pretty impressive, Zombie!”
“Yeah, good work, man!”
“I Want to be just like you when I gro-”

My eyes shuttered. I had no idea where I was until I finally opened my eyes and seen my truck upside down and a lying body beside it.

I rose up and was fascinated that I didn’t paralyze myself. I was bleeding from the side of my stomach when I lifted up my shirt, though.

After checking myself for any dismemberment, I rushed to check the body.

I checked for a pulse and found nothing. I rolled it to it’s side so I could get an adequate view of it’s face and I immediately recognized the facial structure.

It was ANN HIRO…..

Chapter One – (Act Two)

Our democracy, our constitutional framework is really a kind of software for harnessing the creativity and political imagination for all of our people. The American democratic system was an early political version of Napster. – Al Gore

I held the back of AnnHiro’s head securely. I lurked around the empty street and didn’t find an abandoned vehicle other than mine, so I assumed AnnHiro was a pedestrian. In the distance, I seen a user with a rainbow robe blurting out the most irrelevant words. I ignored all the chaos that was going through this town. Dinosaurs having intercourse with cars, Inverted Mario heads trying to explode your ear with annoying altered music, and other annoying rejected memes.

And this was just a glimpse of what I saw; I haven’t even been in the city yet.
Then, I remembered AnnHiro. He was still deceased without a proper burial. I was guilty, but I knew this city didn’t care.

I walked through the town of deadpool, seeing nothing but mutants of undesirable internet relevance. As I finally entered the city, I took a glance into a warehouse. I heard yelling in there.


It disgruntled me. I still walked towards the direction of my new house, but still trying to look what was inside of that warehouse. I began so interested with the dilemma I kept walking until-

A soft thud. My head bumped into a barrier. I looked up and what I saw appeared to be Sagat from Street Fighter.

“You like some cornflakes?” He asked.

“Shut up..” I walked his direction and bumped him out of the way with my shoulder.

“You are fishdick!” He yelled at me!

All I could think of while walking home was everyone at the Research Lab back in Submissionopolis.

All I could think of was about what happened the day before I was booted from Submissionopolis.

I was just getting ready to present my last entry, and he was 404’d…

“Any other troll-mates, Andrew?” asked a voice.

“Hector…..” Andrew said.

“Ah, yes. The belligerent one. Well, I’ll go get the ban-hammer.”

“Yes, sire.” Andrew said.

I heard them that faithful day. Andrew was a snitch – a dirty, lying snitch!

I kept walking and found my new apartment. I knocked on the door to look for the landowner. The door lurched and then fell on it’s back. Typical. I walked into a room until I was immediately manhandled to the floor by someone. He put my face on the floor so I couldn’t get a competent view of him. He restricted my arms from movement and whispered closely to my ear.

“There is a conspiracy that lies within this town. You know there are helpful admins, but there is bad ones also. I don’t know which one of the admins is securing the secret of what they’re doing. They made deadpool a wasteland and dumping users to inhabitant in it. They’re even 404ing users. I know what you’ve heard. I know what you’ve seen. We know you are, and we will be back to help”

He let go and fled away quickly. I turned around as fast as I can, but no luck.

I was left with confusion, but at least now I know something’s wrong, and I might be the one who has to fix it.

Awesome story, Zombie! I’m loving the spin-off! Seriously, these stories make me want to make a spin-off of my own (and I might in the future if no one objects. I’ll probably base it off the mis-adventures of “Los Banditos”, lol!)


If you’re thinking that I’m helping Zombie with the story, I’m sorry to say your mistaken (but I wouldn’t mind if I WAS helping him). It was just my story-self who was helping him IN the story.

Well well well… I think it’s about time for me to write a story.
Maybe something with RG, Pterodactyl, Blah, and I. Awesome.
BTW, this story is coming along very well! Keep writing, fools!


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