How To Make A Ask Blog On Tumblr

I'm not doing this anymore. Sorry but a lot of people sort of ruined it for me, and I've grown too tired of all the defense, discourse, and drama around really shitty things in the show. This blog will stay up, and you can enjoy it for what it is, but I won't be working on this blog anymore.

I'm going to be making more of my own content, so if you liked Hellpark for what it was and how it was written, drawn, and animated, you can check out my art blog for future posts.

Thank you for all the support you guys have given me in the past for this project, I wish I could have given you guys more, but I'm done.

Sorry for such a long gap between content and this post.

(ooc) I'm so grateful people enjoy Hellpark!!!

Hi! There are many talented artists on this blog, ones who all love to have fun and enjoy being part of a project that people can enjoy. I'm speaking on behalf of all of them right now, as the creator and owner of the blog.

I just want to say I'm sure we're all so ecstatic that people can enjoy this blog so much. I know I am! I know there's been a few people here and there that don't totally agree with the blog, or just don't like it, but I'm so glad that it seems like a good 99% of people enjoy the content from the blog. So long as there are people liking the posts, and interested in talking about it, I know people are having just as much fun with this blog as the mods and I are.

It makes me really happy that people are just enjoying this blog. I started out writing this blog for myself, just for my own amusement. I liked tossing in my own concepts and seeing how different and fun and wacky I could make it, and I didn't bother to follow any fandom-made rules because I just wanted to make something that felt refreshing to write and draw. And it still feels that way, even with mods involved now.

All of us like to put our own input and our favorite headcanons into this blog, and it's really amassed into a big friend project. We've made this AU something for ourselves to enjoy, and we put it out here not for the notes or the reaction, but because we just want to share something we have fun doing. So it's exciting to us that people can enjoy something we're just having fun with.

Really, I'm just making this post because I'm always so overwhelmed with how many people enjoy the blog, and how many people I've had message me that it helps them in some way, or it just brightens their day to see! I'm so glad it can do that for people, and for those who don't enjoy the blog, I hope there's something else out there that does the same thing that this blog does for others! I'd love to create something that every single person can love, but that'll just never happen. So the mods and I create something that we love, and let it out for others to love if they so wish!!!

I'm also so glad it seems to be getting people to learn to enjoy characters people don't usually think all that much about. When I made this blog, I didn't even really like Craig, or Gregory, or Pip and Estella, etc. But just stepping a little out of my comfort zone, I've found so much to love about them. I can see people are starting to enjoy and step out a little as well to enjoy more foreign characters. So exciting!

I'm just having a good day and I wanted to express my appreciation for everybody who draws fan art of the AU, talks about the AU, gets excited about it… cause the mods and I see it and it makes us happy every time!

💖💖💖

INTEREST & DIRECTION POLL (Poll #5)

We all love polls!!! Continue to help us make sure this blog is fun for the masses!

KENNY: Oh god…

KENNY: Ohhh shit– pick up the damn phone for chrissake–

TOKEN: Kenny…?

TOKEN: You alright?

KENNY: No I ain't alright!

KENNY: Karen hung up on me!

TOKEN: Oh…

TOKEN: Does that mean you're done with my phone, then?

KENNY: N-no, no I gotta try n' call her again.

KENNY: Just.

KENNY: Just gimmie a sec, she's gotta pick up…

TOKEN: Right… take your time, dude..

KENNY: There's no time to take!

KENNY: She hung up right after she said some damn stranger was in the house!

TOKEN: Oh, jeez…

KENNY: God dammit, I think she turned her phone off…!

KENNY: Oh god oh god, what the hell am I gonna do thirty fucking miles out of town?!

TOKEN: It'll be okay Kenny, I'm sure–

KENNY: No, it's not gonna be okay!

KENNY: Who knows who or what is in that house with her, look at where we are right now!

CRAIG: Hey.

CRAIG: Do you guys wanna shut up, maybe?

CRAIG: You're distracting me from my shit.

TOKEN: Oh, sorry Craig…

TOKEN: Kenny's having some issues with Karen, I think.

CRAIG: Uhuh…

CRAIG: I don't care.

CRAIG: [grumble grumble]

CRAIG: (Can't even browse tumblr without someone getting hay shoved up their ass right in front of me…)

CRAIG: (Why are either of them even still awake.)

CRAIG: (Why do I have to be cooped up in a stupid barn with all these people right now…)

CRAIG: (Why is–)

CRAIG:

CRAIG: Whhhh…

CRAIG: W–

CRAIG: That's m–

CRAIG: That's my blog.

CRAIG: This is on my blog.

CRAIG: Th–

CRAIG: …

CRAIG: WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING ON MY BLOG???

CRAIG: I–

KENNY: Craig???

KENNY: What's the matter, I don't think I've ever heard you yell so loud in your life!

STAN: Yeah, shut the hell up over there, some of us are trying to sleep.

CRAIG: …Y… you shut up…!

CRAIG: Fuck your sleep, I have a problem!

STAN: Yeah, I know, we kind of got teleported here by a freaking demon, dude.

STAN: We've all got problems right now, you're not special.

CRAIG: I'll kick your ass!

STAN: Go ahead, it's already facing right towards you.

STAN: I'll even wiggle it a little to make it a moving target, if you wanna make a game out of it.

CRAIG: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

TOKEN: Jesus, dude, what's wrong?

CRAIG: Besides Stan Marsh being as stupid as ever?!

KENNY: We mean what the hell made you yell so loud, dude???

CRAIG: Oh, I'll tell you!

CRAIG: This guy is posting shitty selfies of himself on my blog!

CRAIG: MY blog, and he has the audacity to post them with–

CRAIG: W-with…

CRAIG: With him sitting right next to him like it's nothing!

CRAIG: There's a circus in my house and I'll bet you money it was that stupid Tweek demon guy who led us all away so they could party it up in my room!

CRAIG: We should have never let that stupid goat take us all the way out here.

CRAIG: Now they're all fiddling with my shit and probably having a laugh about it, look at him in this picture!

CRAIG: Look at who's in the fucking picture with him!!!

KENNY: OH GOD…

CRAIG: Oh god is right!

CRAIG: They're messing with all my shit!!!

CRAIG: I'm freaking the hell out!

CRAIG: I'm so fucking close to kiCKING STAN'S STUPID ASS STOP SHAKING YOUR BUTT AROUND YOU FUCKING DELIRIATE.

STAN: maybe shut up first lol

KENNY: OH MY GOD, KAREN!

KENNY: SHE SAID SHE WAS HANGING OUT WITH YOUR SISTER IN YOUR HOUSE, CRAIG.

KENNY: SHE HUNG UP AND WON'T ANSWER MY CALLS!

TOKEN: They tried to chuck us all off the side of a bridge, who knows what they could be doing right now?!

CRAIG: TOUCHING MY SHIT IS WHAT THEY'RE DOING!!!

CRAIG: Touching my shit, putting pictures of themselves and Thomas's corpse sitting in my bedroom!

TOKEN: Craig, I think this is a little more important than them touching your computer!

TOKEN: They could have hurt your guys' sisters!

CRAIG: BUT LOOK AT WHAT HE POSTED ON MY BLOG!!!!!

KENNY: Craig, I know it's probably goddamn traumatizing to see that shit right now!!!

KENNY: I know it's hard for you to grasp this sorta thing during a meltdown.

KENNY: I'm sorry you're having a difficult time with all of this crap, but there's people actually in danger in your house right now, man!

CRAIG: Don't tell me I'm having a meltdown!

TOKEN: Oh my god, okay–

TOKEN: Kenny, let's just pull ourselves away for a minute here.

CRAIG: Don't turn your backs on me like that!!!

TOKEN: Just ignore Craig for a second.

TOKEN: There's demons in Craig's house, Karen and Craig's sister are in Craig's house– what do you think should be done?

TOKEN: What can we possibly do from here?

KENNY: I ain't got a damn clue!

KENNY: We gotta get someone over there to help them out!

TOKEN: Okay, well maybe that isn't such a good idea?

TOKEN: We've seen what they can do, right?

TOKEN: Is it smart to drag someone else into this?

KENNY: Token, you don't have a freakin' sister, you don't know what this is like.

TOKEN: Okay. You're right.

TOKEN: But I don't know if–

KENNY: Wait.

TOKEN: What is it, man?

KENNY: I know exactly who to call.

KENNY: Ain't no way he's tangled all up in this mess yet, neither.

KENNY: Won't gonna get his ass whooped neither.

TOKEN: Okay, well who's that?

KENNY: My boyfriend.

DOGPOO: snrrk nsnzznnzzzzzzzzzzz…,.

[ ♫ I'M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WORLD ♫ ]

[ ♫ LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT'S FANTASTIC ♫ ]

DOGPOO: fhnfnhmmghfghg

DOGPOO: [yawn]

DOGPOO: An unknown caller disrupting my sleep, now…?

DOGPOO: Just who on earth could be calling me at this devilish hour of the night…?

DOGPOO: Mmhhello–

KENNY: Hushpuppy stain in the rug, we got some demon huntin' to do!

KENNY: Grab yer damn shooter n' get ready to pump lead!!!

DOGPOO: KENNY???

KENNY: Damn right!

DOGPOO: DEMON HUNTING?

DOGPOO: Y'AIN'T PULLIN ME, ARE YOU NOW?

KENNY: Hell no, I ain't whistlin' no dixie over here, I'm a gallon o' gas aways from town and the fuckin' devil's stampin' his hooves in town!

KENNY: Get your red ryder and get ready to shoot some damn eyes out!

DOGPOO: You sound oh so serious, I hardly recognize the tone, honeypot!

DOGPOO: Your words shot me wide awake quicker than the smell of pie in the morning, I just can't resist a shootin' with you!

KENNY: I'm serious!

KENNY: I'm cooped up in a barn outta town, and there's demons runnin' amok with my damn sister out there!

KENNY: She's up in a heap of danger and I ain't got nobody in the world I'd trust more than you to keep her safe right now.

KENNY: Never been more serious in my life, ragamuffin.

DOGPOO: Oh.

DOGPOO: Karen's caught in the throes of the devil, is she now?

DOGPOO: Seems we really ain't playing rockahorse.

KENNY: I don't joke around when it comes to who I love, don't go reckonin' I'd do it to you.

DOGPOO: I see.

DOGPOO: Well then, I'd be duller than the heel of my boot if I didn't think I could do something about that, wouldn't I?

DOGPOO: A demon or two doesn't quite sound like nothin' a shell can't handle.

KENNY: Dogpoo, these are serious folks you're gonna be ditzin' around with.

KENNY: Damn near chucked me n' my friends off a bridge a couple hours back.

DOGPOO: I still don't see the issue here, darlin'.

DOGPOO: You might have death's hand hovering your shoulder, but one look at me and they'll be wishing they were busy chopping onions instead.

DOGPOO: I'll get your sister out of the slick, just you wait.

KENNY: Alright. I trust you, mudskip.

KENNY: You're the rankest varmint this side of Colorado, if anybody's gonna get them runnin', it's you.

DOGPOO: A threat is nothing more than a man who's pride is in his hands, not his skin.

KENNY: You really grabbin' your shotty, yeah?

DOGPOO: Would you expect anything less after you've excited me so?

DOGPOO: I've got an itchy finger just beggin' for a trigger to pull now.

KENNY: Okay, good.

KENNY: But keep them earholes wide for me, water nugget.

KENNY: You gotta be real damn careful.

DOGPOO: I believe we've been over this already, Kenny.

DOGPOO: Am I to understand you're doubting my abilities here?

KENNY: Not at all.

KENNY: These people ain't just strangers, though.

KENNY: Well, most of them, anyhoo.

KENNY: You will know one of them, for sure.

KENNY: I ain't got a clue on how many of them are there, but they're all stuck up in Tucker's house.

KENNY: Stick your barrel in the nose of any horned bastard you so damn please, but for the love of all mighty…

KENNY: Don't let that poor bastard Thomas stick around them.

DOGPOO: You'll need to be more specific than that, sweetie pie.

DOGPOO: There's a few Thomas' in this town that come to mind off of the top of my head.

KENNY: Look, I ain't gonna dilly dally here– you'll know what I mean if you see 'em.

DOGPOO: Alright, so your shopping list here's one Karen, one Thomas, and a face o' lead for a demon or two, huh?

KENNY: Craig's sister's there with Karen.

DOGPOO: Only logical, considering what residence I'm being pointed off to.

KENNY: I don't care what's done.

KENNY: Just get those kids outta there.

DOGPOO: Anything for you, sunshine.

DOGPOO: Ain't a day where you can't count on me.

KENNY: I know.

KENNY: I love you.

DOGPOO: Love you too.

DOGPOO: Well, I suppose there isn't anything like a two AM witch hunt…

DOGPOO: Oh, poor Kenny… whatever have you gotten yourself into this time.

Greetings,

I figured it rather rude of me to not introduce myself to you all after obtaining this blog from its previous owner, so I'd like to tell you all a little bit about my life, since I've only just now figured out how this confounded webcam works!

My name is Gregory! I am 190cm, cis male (pronouns he/him), my favourite color is blue, and I'm a lucky friend of four unique individuals from Hell.

While we're all on rocky terms now that we've breached the surface, I believe we will find pleasant ground and regroup stronger than ever within the coming hours. I've created an image of them alongside myself for you all to see.

Currently with me, residing within the previous owner of this blog's household, are my two beloved friends Estella and Thomas. They are on either sides of me in the image shown above. While the other two have gone off to do whatever nonsense they wish to get themselves involved in, us three have decided to take a small retreat for the night.

Right now, we find ourselves waiting for Thomas to revive his fatally wounded body after he had suffered a most unfortunate incident earlier in the night. This will be his first time reviving, so I find myself rather nervous awaiting this recovery. I can't say it's a very pleasant experience, but I hope that awakening to the familiar faces of his friends will help soften the experience for him.

Now, you may be wondering, "Why on earth are you all on this weblog, when you do not even own the account it resides on?!" Or perhaps you are wondering why the previous owner has handed the rights over to me. The answer is simple. I let myself on.

The previous owner of this blog– Craig Tucker– has become a thorn in my hindquarters, alongside the rest of his podunk friends. He's unwittingly left his home computer on and logged into this silly little website, and I've decided to take advantage of this opportunity. He's not said very nice things about my friends, and though I don't expect any form of graciousness for myself, the hate he directs towards the others I find rather absurd.

It has me wondering if his other friends have their own foolishly insipid weblogs of their own. Are they saying things about us in poor taste as well? What, pray tell, has someone like Thomas or even Tweek done to deserve such scorn, if so? If it is anything like the logs of Craig Tucker, they surely have met no mercy.

Just to make this fair, though, and to show that I am a better owner of this "blog," so Estella tells me it's called, I have constructed another image. This time, of Craig and his friends. If I talk of them just as I talk of my friends, it is only right if I give them an artistic rendering as well, no?

I ran out of room for the fat one, excuse his crudeness. However I feel as though I've granted him more justice than his appearance is worth. No matter– he's been possibly the least of my worries out of the seven. It's funny how things change over time. He was always much more troublesome as a kid than he seems as a young adult.

As for the rest, they're all far more irritating than when I last saw them. I'm fairly sure I smelled the devil's lettuce on Stan Marsh when I confronted him earlier, which is hilarious. How low his life must have sank in the past several years…

However, I don't wish to ramble on about these fools. That is not my intent for this log. My intent here is to share with you all my face and presence, so you're aware of the current state of your beloved Craig's blog. Know that I am not about to suspend activity on this account, nor am I about to leave you all in the dark by discontinuing the steady flow of updates. I am sure some of you are a little miffed by the fact that this blog now has a new owner, but I am taking terrific care of it, and I would not disregard any complaints, if you have any to offer.

I've noted that this blog has rather gained traction since my taking, actually. Once I figured out how this website worked, I found that the subscriber count had jumped from 15 people to 18 people. How enthralling! I hope my content continues to entertain you all.

Expect more in the coming hours, as I will keep you updated on our current status, as well as share more of my friends stories with you all. Far better than the hate that has been spread on this blog thus far, right?

This is Gregory Wolfgang Bellarose III, sending my "captain's log" off to you.

GREGORY: My my, this sure is a popular question, isn't it?

GREGORY: I can't see why any of you would be taking interest in that traitorous rat, though.

GREGORY: Running the others off to safety while we were trying to deal with business.

GREGORY: It's bad enough with all of the ruckus he causes on a daily basis in Hell, now he's choosing to do it on the overworld as well.

ESTELLA: Are you talking about Tweek, over there?

ESTELLA: That scraggly, disease-ridden manchild will surely get what is coming to him.

ESTELLA: I hope he enjoys the strain of problems he's created for us.

GREGORY: There are people asking about him, can you believe it?

GREGORY: They– ohoh, this is actually quite funny.

GREGORY: They think he's from the land of the living, how charming.

ESTELLA: Heavens, that problematic boil on the under-fold of a old man's neck wouldn't stand a chance up here on earth.

GREGORY: Right?

GREGORY: Anyway– to answer all of your questions…

GREGORY: He's always been in Hell, right to his very upbringing.

GREGORY: He was hellborn, several years before the new era of Hell.

GREGORY: About ten or even years before I died, making him… eighteen or nineteen now, I believe?

GREGORY: All I recall is that his birthday is on Halloween.

GREGORY: Funny enough, Hell uses the same time system as earth does.

GREGORY: Though rather than two thousand… someodd… I don't quite remember the year up here anymore– it's year ten of Era 2.

GREGORY: Sounds ridiculous, right?

GREGORY: Ahahah…

GREGORY: Anyways, where was I?

GREGORY: Oh, yes.

GREGORY: Tweek, unlike the rest of us, has never been to earth until now.

I remember running into him the first time, shortly after my death.

I believe when I first met him, I thought he was just some stupid kid who died too early to know what like was like on the surface.

He would be found headbutting rocks, gave me a strange look when I approached him, and would speak in a strange tongue I couldn't understand at first.

Of course, I wouldn't know what to say in response to something I did not know.

I've known a handful of languages from a young age, but his was unlike anything I've ever heard until I arrived in Hell.

At first I figured, maybe this was some language from a lost civilization, hundreds of years in the past? Perhaps age doesn't work in Hell like it does in the land of the living?

This would be incorrect.

If I recall, I attempted to talk to him in my own language– English, of course. I think I'd felt it too rude to try and leave while he was trying to have a conversation with me.

GREGORY: I can't quite understand you…

GREGORY: Are you able to understand me?

TWEEK: …

GREGORY: …I'll take your silence as a no.

GREGORY: I wonder where you're from…

GREGORY: I've never heard such a language before.

I would try to seemingly no avail, so I felt my inclination to be true. For a few moments, that is.

Looking back on this all, it's a rather funny instance, though at the time I was utterly terrified when this next bit occurred–

I'd been so used to demons and ghouls and all sorts of hellish beings flying about in the skies, I hadn't stopped to notice two individuals soaring my way from behind Tweek.

They would land to see me, surrounding him on either side. I remember this image very clearly in my head…

…because as a little kid, seeing two full grown adults, with a wingspan larger than myself at the time…

My lord, I was scared senseless.

They would look down at me, smiles on their faces. I figured them crazed, it didn't look like they knew quite how to smile at first.

I expected them to speak the same language as the kid I had been talking to, considering how close and personal they seemed to be with him.

They addressed to me in full English that I had been talking to their son, though– something I find rather interesting now, considering they would have had no idea exactly what language I would have spoken.

I suppose that's a mystery I'll solve another day.

MR. TWEAK: Hello!

MR. TWEAK: Can we help you?

MR. TWEAK: I see you've met our son!

MRS. TWEAK: He doesn't get out much, you're the first saved soul he's ever seen…

They had a peculiar accent. I wouldn't have been to describe it at the time, but now I can say with clear conscious that it is just one of many Hellish accents you'd find in Hell.

An accent from one who would have grown up speaking a specifically satanic language– one that would commonly be known to English-speaking Hellspawn as, simply, demonic tongue or hellspeak. Myself fancying the latter.

They had seemed rather keen on being overly nice to me, where as most looks I'd gotten from those I'd later find out to be hellborn as well would be looks of disdain.

I had arrived in Hell a year after the previous ruler Satan had died and went to heaven, and merely months into a new era– in which none would be damned to eternal torture.

I'd like to say I was lucky for dying at the time I did– but I wasn't.

I was just luckier than those who had died before this new era was enacted.

They were almost more threatening than the ones who would give me such wretched looks. They were almost trying too hard to be nice.

I could recognize their efforts though, however terrified I was at the time.

In turn, they could recognize my fear. So his mother would attempt to console me, something else I've never forgotten.

MRS. TWEAK: My my, dear…

MRS. TWEAK: You're so brave…

MRS. TWEAK: There aren't many souls who seem as sudden as yours who would care to talk to someone like our son…

GREGORY: …

MRS. TWEAK: You seem scared and lost… and alone.

MRS. TWEAK: Do you have any known family down here?

GREGORY: …I don't… really know…?

MRS. TWEAK: That's quite a shame…

MRS. TWEAK: I hope you can find them some day.

MRS. TWEAK: For now, though… as a mother, and an imp…

MRS. TWEAK: I'd love to welcome you to our home any time you feel like you need to get away from everything out here.

MRS. TWEAK: It's hard in these times, I'm sure you could do with a friendly face or two.

She would tell me, without even knowing who I am, that I was welcome into her home.

I'll admit I felt a little like a charity case in that moment, but she'd sensed I was all on my own at the time– which I was.

Even though the torturing era of Hell was something I had missed, the four or five days I had spent alone, wandering hell to my own devices… everything I had experienced up until that point had been quite scary, to some degree.

I mean, I was still in Hell, what else would I have felt.

Her generosity and the father's… attempt at a polite smile… had been the first somewhat comforting things I had felt since I had died.

His mother would then try to promote to me: Tweek, a potential friend.

MRS. TWEAK: Darling, were you talking to his young man?

MRS. TWEAK: Would you like to make friends with him?

MRS. TWEAK: Now now, dear, not so rude.

MRS. TWEAK: You know this language.

MRS. TWEAK: I know, you're nervous…

MRS. TWEAK: This man is a nice fellow, though, I think he and you would make terrific friends…

She would reveal to me that he could in fact speak English, and really he was too shy to speak outside of his native tongue.

He didn't quite look like somebody I would want to be friends with at the time, but with how nice his mother was and how lonely I felt, I was… reluctantly intrigued, to say the least.

However I remember finding his name quite silly– it's not even a common theme in Hell. His father's name is Richard, goodness sake. They really had to regards when naming him, it seems.

TWEEK: Um…

MRS. TWEAK: Tell him your name, dear.

TWEEK: Tweek.

MRS. TWEAK: Tweek what?

TWEEK: My name is Tweek.

MRS. TWEAK: Good job!

MRS. TWEAK: Why don't you try speaking to your new friend in a way you can both understand?

TWEEK: O-oh, um…

TWEEK: I– I wanna poke your eyes out with my pitchfork, ugly.

GREGORY: …

MRS. TWEAK: Ohohoh– He doesn't mean that. I promise you.

MRS. TWEAK: It's the way of the old era, so please don't mind him.

MRS. TWEAK: Tweek, why don't you try being nice?

MRS. TWEAK: We've been practicing this, right?

TWEEK: When I grow up, and get my own torture chamber, I'll let you be the first in it.

GREGORY: …Nice to meet you too…?

GREGORY: My name is Gregory???

Tweek wasn't very good at being nice when he was young. I disliked him, for a time, but put up with him because his mother was so nice.

However I learned it really just was the way he was raised. If you grow up in a world where your sole purpose is to trick and torture others, why wouldn't you be taught to be so devilish?

He took a while to unlearn his habits, and he still has some issues now and then. On the other end, I've learned to understand him better.

Of course, my understanding of him right now is that he'd rather betray our entire friend group by running off with a bunch of humans than to stick with us– people he knows.

It's beyond ridiculous, offensive, and hurtful. I don't know what his motives are in this instance, but he's to have a good reason for all of this if he expects me to forgive him.

As for this question, I hope this quelled your curious minds once more. Tweek has always lived in hell, born and raised, and just barely over twenty four hours ago was his first breath of air on the surface.

I know I went on a bit of a rabbit trail, but I believe it paints a better picture of exactly why I'm friends with Tweek now.

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if I had known him since he was even younger.

Would his parents have shown me the same hospitality?

Would he have been as rude? Would he have made me want to me more rude?

I wonder if he looked as stupid as all of the other implets running amok in hell when he was young…

Perhaps I'll visit his parents soon and ask them just that– maybe ask them for a young photo or two of him while I'm there.

I'm closer to them than I am him at this point, anyhow.

GREGORY: Oh my, seems Craig's little online army doesn't have a care at all that I've taken command of his weblog.

GREGORY: Estella, there are people who are actually curious about the true side of things, would you believe that?

ESTELLA: Are you really fiddling around with that stupid thing over there?

ESTELLA: Of course you couldn't hold back from sating your bloated ego, you needed electronic strangers to help inflate it even further, you limp, detached and wounded tail of a diseased lizard.

GREGORY: Goodness, there are questions regarding both you and I, you know.

GREGORY: I haven't so much as talked about myself at all, mind you.

ESTELLA: Why are there people attempting to talk to me through that device.

ESTELLA: Are you truly so stupid as to inform everybody of our whereabouts?

GREGORY: Heavens, no.

GREGORY: Just having some fun, is all.

GREGORY: You should join me with this one, spare yourself a moment why don't you.

ESTELLA: Ugh, if it will get you off my back, fine.

GREGORY: Now this one asks what our impression of each of those incessant dullards Craig calls friends is.

ESTELLA: All of them are as stale and boring as a long forgotten water biscuit fallen beneath a dumpster.

GREGORY: Right you are.

ESTELLA: Can I get back to what I was doing, now?

GREGORY: Not quite, I think I'd fancy tearing down the walls of each individual here.

GREGORY: It's only fair that these curious strangers get their just earful.

ESTELLA: [sigh]

ESTELLA: If you insist.

GREGORY: I suppose we might as well start with the most likely focus of interest, the original owner of this log.

GREGORY: Craig.

GREGORY: You know originally, I didn't have all too much of an issue with this brain dead husk of a man.

GREGORY: I told him.

GREGORY: If he doesn't fuck with me, I would have no qualms against him.

ESTELLA: And yet here you are, still plucking splinters from the backside of your head.

GREGORY: I could tell he was going to be a problem from the start, I just figured he'd be too slow and careless to be much of an actual threat.

ESTELLA: I'd almost say it's adorable how angry you are over such a nuisance of a boy; But you're far too revolting to ever be adorable, so I will just say it's amusing.

GREGORY: …

GREGORY: I don't like him.

GREGORY: I'll leave it at that.

ESTELLA: I couldn't care less for that gelatinous clump of blue ink.

GREGORY: I suppose next would be his subordinate friend– Clyde, is it?

GREGORY: The one you stupidly chose to take control of.

GREGORY: Over just about any other candidate.

ESTELLA: I do not need to be reminded.

ESTELLA: He was simply the most emotionally compromised at the time.

GREGORY: It's become clear that's just how he always is.

ESTELLA: You sure took your oh so pleasant time getting me out of that putrid cauldron of body odor and unpleasantly placed hair.

ESTELLA: He's quite revolting when he's all alone, do you know this?

GREGORY: Do you mean… more so than you find other men to be, or…

ESTELLA: Yes, I do mean more so.

ESTELLA: You have no idea the things I had to sit through with that horrid, small manhooded caveman.

GREGORY: I'm sure.

GREGORY: I have no real feelings towards him either way, though he seems a little too keen on Tweek for my liking.

GREGORY: Or, I should say, Tweek seems a little too trusting of him.

GREGORY: So in turn, I am not too fond of him, either.

GREGORY: Now, the one I find the most tolerable of the bunch is certainly Token.

GREGORY: I remember him well from when I was still alive.

GREGORY: Truly, if there were anybody to rival Wendy and I's intellectual abilities together, it would be him.

ESTELLA: Well, he did throw all of us under the bus by telling Damien exactly what we've been up to on the surface, so I do not think I can possibly see him in the same light as you.

GREGORY: Oh, well I suppose there is that.

ESTELLA: Other than that, I find him a rather boring, simple minded individual.

ESTELLA: He could die the most foul and upsetting death imaginable, and I would not think any different of him– same goes for the rest of those boys.

GREGORY: Mm, well, I still think I find him the most bearable of the bunch.

ESTELLA: If you say so, you blood-drunk man loving tick.

ESTELLA: Let's talk about the best of the bunch, why don't we?

GREGORY: Oh? Do you suddenly have a favorite?

ESTELLA: Why yes I do.

ESTELLA: Stan, of course.

GREGORY: Oh. Him.

GREGORY: That thick-headed, good for nothing drain on society…

GREGORY: That's who your favorite is?

ESTELLA: Yes indeed.

ESTELLA: I just love it when the real you comes out.

ESTELLA: Look at you now. Can't help your horns from showing, you're just so upset that anybody could possibly like that van-hit skunk.

ESTELLA: As if I'd actually enjoy him any more than the other bloody idiots.

GREGORY: There are few people more deserving of hell than Stan Marsh.

ESTELLA: I could think of many, but if you take such offense to your own personal death, I won't stop you from thinking of that.

ESTELLA: My, you're so much more pleasant to be around when you're angry…

ESTELLA: My opinion of him is rather neutral, but he's a man so there isn't much about him that's favorable anyways.

GREGORY: Let's talk about his counterpart instead.

ESTELLA: And who would that be?

GREGORY: Kyle.

GREGORY: The bloke with the ugly green ushanka.

ESTELLA: Oh, that collapsed anal cavity of a sewer rat.

ESTELLA: The opinionated one who thinks his insufferably bland words actually matter.

ESTELLA: Rather rich, but that's all I can give him.

GREGORY: He's always thought of himself as some sort of martyr of first world problems.

GREGORY: I'm sure if he wasn't so full of himself he'd be less of a drain to talk to.

ESTELLA: Funny, that's how I feel about you.

ESTELLA: You're really just describing yourself, you know.

GREGORY: When I fight for justice, I'm not doing it to make myself feel good.

GREGORY: I do it for those who cannot take action themselves.

ESTELLA: Oh, I'm sure you love to tell yourself that.

GREGORY: Speaking of selfish drains…

GREGORY: It truly shows how utterly stupid all of Stan's friends are, still hanging around that tub of lard Eric.

ESTELLA: He didn't really speak much while I was around, so all he is to me is another worthless sausage on a rusted old pan.

GREGORY: All I saw was that he still looks like he's 10, and certainly still sounds like it.

ESTELLA: Smells like it, too.

GREGORY: I never did like the boy, he completely ruined an entire covert operation, you know?

GREGORY: Directly caused the death of a fellow comrade.

GREGORY: Of course we were all turned back before the war, thus nullifying all of our actions henceforth, but it still stands that the old paranoid fool he killed never quite was the same.

ESTELLA: Oh, let's not start this conversation again.

ESTELLA: You talked my ear off for days on end the last time I decided to indulge in your simplistic babblings of self-perceived hardship.

GREGORY: Though who I find most interesting throughout all of what we went through was who really saved us all in the end.

GREGORY: I hadn't seen all too much of him beforehand, yet he sacrificed himself for the entire town over in the end.

GREGORY: That Kenny fellow…

GREGORY: You know, despite spiking me over the head with that lawn ornament earlier, I don't really have too harsh a thought on him.

GREGORY: I blame Tweek and Thomas for not warning me more than anything, really.

GREGORY: There's something about him that seemed all too familiar, though, even as a young adult now…

ESTELLA: I am taking advantage of the fact that you look like you're lost in your tiny, hollowed out peanut shell of a brain to say that I am leaving now.

ESTELLA: There are better things to attend to.

GREGORY: I can't even remember how he came back from the dead, he just appeared one day, good as new.

GREGORY: I never knew the original ruler of hell personally, only his son of course, but perhaps there was some sort of additional deal made for him to return to the land of the living once more?

GREGORY: Honestly, this perplexes me severely now that I think about it, and I can't believe I've not thought about it more until now.

GREGORY: Needless to say, this one's an interesting individual, to say the least.

GREGORY: Definitely not one I'd think to trust any time soon, however. He's far too… suspicious of a person…

GREGORY: Hmm…

GREGORY: Well– that's all of them I suppose.

GREGORY: Though, hmm…

GREGORY: I could have sworn Craig's friends had one more on their team…?

GREGORY: I wonder where they could be in all of this mess.

GREGORY: …These are quite fun, I think I may indulge myself in a few more…

GREGORY: I don't quite like the wording of these questions I'm reading in Craig's little virtual post box.

GREGORY: But lest he tries to foolishly answer questions not best suited for him, I will step in I suppose.

GREGORY: It's clear he's made a fine job of telling you all about my friends and I.

GREGORY: Or, quite possibly the very narrow light of which he's seen us in at least.

GREGORY: Which is to say, he's probably described us all rather poorly.

GREGORY: It is true, both Pip and Thomas both are nothing but kindhearted individuals.

GREGORY: Both have had their share of bullying, misfortune, and untimely deaths.

GREGORY: I'd say Pip's I can relate to more, but Thomas' just upsets me a great deal.

GREGORY: Not to rank either of their tribulations, I just believe I have a better grasp of exactly why Pip didn't end up in heaven.

GREGORY: He's had eight years to explain it to me, after all.

GREGORY: And so I will attempt to explain it to you all though what he has told me over the years.

GREGORY: They both deserve to have their stories told the correct way, and not however it would have been explained by the doltish owner of this weblog.

GREGORY: To start, I believe Pip started up in heaven.

GREGORY: Though, he never made it through the pearly gates, which is what truly grants you a pleasant and bright eternal afterlife.

GREGORY: Once you make it through that barrier, the only way you're doomed is if you cause religious mishap, or truly gain some sort of evil intent.

GREGORY: Of course, this is only the Christian afterlife we're speaking of.

GREGORY: And seeing that I'm possibly talking to possibly a baker's dozen of strangers over the internet right now, I'd like to state that I have no outer knowledge of the afterlives of any religion other than my own.

GREGORY: I can say with certainty that a Christian hell is not the greatest source of outside knowledge, as much as it has progressed down there.

GREGORY: I feel as though these stories would be entirely different if the two had been risen under different minded households, so please spare some judgement on my part if this seems rather one sided of me to speak of.

GREGORY: So again, I am sharing only what I've been told of, and under a Christian mindset.

GREGORY: My intent is not to nullify any other afterlife, only to elaborate on my friends and I's.

GREGORY: …

GREGORY: I honestly forgot where I was.

GREGORY: …Ah, yes.

GREGORY: Pip's hellish status.

GREGORY: As I stated, once you make it through those heavenly gates, you're officially a resident of the eternal life in the sky.

GREGORY: Normally, unless you are turned away for sneaky wrongdoings not seen through the watchful eyes of heaven, there is no issue getting in.

GREGORY: And for someone like Pip, the prior shouldn't ever have been an issue.

GREGORY: All the time I've ever known of him– through life and death– is that he is kind, generous, and rarely wears a frown.

GREGORY: He gives his pleases and thanks, and he rarely acts unjust.

GREGORY: From the times he's told me that he has, even those instances sound rather just.

GREGORY: My time knowing him alive wasn't all too long, but a year or so before he had gone missing, never to be seen again.

GREGORY: He doesn't like to talk about his own death very much, but from what I can tell it was certainly during a time of travesty.

GREGORY: And during such times, the gates can get overwhelmed and swollen with other unfortunate cases.

GREGORY: Certainly, everybody at their untimely death could not wait to see their afterlife.

GREGORY: Some sorrowful, some full of hope that the worst of it all was over.

GREGORY: From how he described it, Pip was more on the latter side of the crowd.

GREGORY: And so imagine…

GREGORY: When you think it's all over.

GREGORY: When you think life has finally given you a break, and you're able to move onto a better one…

GREGORY: That even up in heaven, there's still nobody that cares enough about you.

GREGORY: A simple break in the clouds due to deceased overpopulation.

GREGORY: Nobody turns their heads.

GREGORY: Nobody thinks to look behind them and see what they've been ever so gently pushing back over their greed of a happy afterlife.

GREGORY: And greed is a sin, mind you.

GREGORY: So they just continue to shuffle their feet and wait for their now undeserved turn into heaven.

GREGORY: And the wings you sprout after death are there for your tiring travel upwards.

GREGORY: It's an exhausting journey to heaven, your new wings wont fly you a second time until you've reached your destination completely.

GREGORY: So if you're denied entry before you can make it through, there's no real way to fly back up until it's far too late.

GREGORY: In life, Pip was never destined to go to hell.

GREGORY: In death, he still was not destined to go to hell.

GREGORY: But look at where the carelessness of others have brought him.

GREGORY: Where life can be cruel, death can be just as much so.

GREGORY: …Though…

GREGORY: Sometimes, while life and death may both sow their unjust seeds… a lot of what normally decides where you end up is your own actions in life, of course.

GREGORY: Thomas of course was nothing but a sweetheart.

GREGORY: From what he's told me, though he couldn't go to a church publicly due to his developed anxiety over his Tourette's, he always made up for it by watching church service with his mother at home.

GREGORY: Every single Sunday, he told me.

GREGORY: Though like some people, especially in more depressing periods of their life, he began to question his faith.

GREGORY: There came a point where he didn't know what he should truly believe in.

GREGORY: He never did anything wrong, as he always listened and obeyed the strict followings of Catholicism.

GREGORY: And though he was many things most extreme Christians would call sinful, he still would choose to believe, all that time.

GREGORY: In the end, none of what he was would have ever sent him to hell.

GREGORY: He truly is just too innocent and nice of a person.

GREGORY: Though sometimes, after traumatic experiences in life, it can kick your belief system like a switch.

GREGORY: After loss, it can be hard to believe.

GREGORY: And apparently loss for Thomas meant cutting out an entire part of his life that he had believed for fifteen years beforehand.

GREGORY: "How can you believe in a god if it feels like you're only on Earth to suffer?"

GREGORY: It truly hurt my heart to hear him tell me the way he felt.

GREGORY: But in the end, it made sense why he was in hell.

GREGORY: Attaching yourself to faith for so long, believing in a god, then ditching a life worth's of devotion in an instant.

GREGORY: That's what truly damned him to hell.

GREGORY: In the end it was only that loss of faith that flipped his destiny upside down.

GREGORY: For a while, he was in such a state of grieving, you knew you were still in hell.

GREGORY: Hell isn't what he believed it to be anymore, of course.

GREGORY: Most of us had grown used to it, and even enjoyed the new era we were living in.

GREGORY: But it still stung for him.

GREGORY: Only in hell could you still hear the wallowing of the afterlife.

GREGORY: And of course, he only blamed himself.

GREGORY: He did two things that society said would damn him to hell.

GREGORY: But only one of them was what really did it.

GREGORY: Of course he didn't realise this.

GREGORY: He sobbed for what felt like weeks, because he thought that the way he died… was what sent him here.

GREGORY: We would constantly reassure him that the means of his death did not attribute to his afterlife.

GREGORY: We even had him talk to the Devil himself– of which we're fortunate friends of.

GREGORY: He, too, could only assure Thomas that it was not the way he died, but the way he chose to squander his faith.

GREGORY: It's a harsh reality, and it's unclear if he grasps it fully, even after a full year and a half.

GREGORY: I've always thought that if he had someone in life to help steer him in a better direction, he wouldn't have gone out the way he did, nor would he have been sent to hell.

GREGORY: His ex certainly never did any good for him.

GREGORY: Even if Thomas claims his ex was the best thing in his life.

GREGORY: How could someone like that be the best thing in your life if they let you fall this far down a rabbit hole?

GREGORY: Thomas truly is as ignorant as he is pitiful.

GREGORY: We're full of experiences that Stan and his friends would never, ever grasp.

GREGORY: I can't believe this is a question that needed to be elaborated upon.

GREGORY: But if I'm not answering them, that fool of a man Craig would be instead.

GREGORY: I'm sure he'd paint Pip and Thomas both as monsters here.

GREGORY: But I'll make sure that doesn't happen.

GREGORY: I haven't a clue how we'll deal with those two poor girls in the other room…

ESTELLA: We leave them be.

ESTELLA: They won't be coming out any time soon with their door handle melted, anyhow.

GREGORY: Lord, I hardly believe it's you talking.

GREGORY: I'm surprised you didn't throw them out a window just for looking at you.

ESTELLA: Oh, so rich coming from the splinter-filled buffoon who nearly crushed entire families in some futile chase.

ESTELLA: If we've to be so under cover like you said, why are houses upon houses layered in that horrid black ooze of yours? Hmm?

GREGORY: Sorry I forgot I was talking to the paragon of virtue herself.

GREGORY: As if you wouldn't have done the same thing or worse in my situation.

ESTELLA: Oh please, I wouldn't be nearly as uncoordinated or filled with unneeded emotion like you.

GREGORY: I'm rolling my eyes at you, you know.

ESTELLA: I'm sure.

ESTELLA: Speaking of unneeded emotion, however…

ESTELLA: Explain to me, you bloodied menstrual pad of an ill-kept lady, why you insist on propping that body up like it's still alive?

GREGORY: What, would you rather him splayed out on the floor when he comes back?

ESTELLA: I think it would let him know he shouldn't be happy with his choices today.

ESTELLA: If he hadn't been such a selfless, love-stricken twat, we wouldn't be in this mess.

GREGORY: That may be, but we're here now, and he'll be back soon.

GREGORY: The least we can do for him is grant him some decency.

ESTELLA: Mm, how typical of you to say.

GREGORY: Oh come on, you can't say you don't pity him at least a little bit?

GREGORY: This would be his first time regenerating.

GREGORY: Wouldn't you wish the same for yours?

ESTELLA: I don't thrive off of pity, as much as you wish I would.

ESTELLA: He could wake up at the floor of a cold, empty seabed and nobody but you and that imp would give a damn.

GREGORY: I get it, you're as cold and empty as the very depths you speak of.

GREGORY: With my mind on the cold, though…

GREGORY: It is rather cold in here, now that I think about it…

ESTELLA: We've spent nearly a decade in hell, you should welcome it.

GREGORY: Well, I'm sure this poor sap would at least enjoy an extra layer or two.

ESTELLA: He's an imp, you vanilla monkey shit sundae.

ESTELLA: He's exerts far more heat than necessary already.

ESTELLA: Lest you're planning to burn this whole structure to the ground?

GREGORY: Just because he feels warm doesn't mean he is warm.

GREGORY: At least he'll wake up knowing someone cares, you crotchety old hag.

ESTELLA: …

ESTELLA: Well, I'm sure he'd be so glad to wake up in someone else's clothes.

ESTELLA: Of all people's clothes, especially, you choose the very piss-filled, disease-ridden pit of a person that's been causing all of his issues from day one.

ESTELLA: My, how thoughtful of you.

GREGORY: Oh, just because your life's been squandered of any loving relationship doesn't mean his has.

GREGORY: If I didn't know better, I'd find you quite jealous he could hold feelings long enough to be willing to die for another.

ESTELLA: I don't recall walking into a therapy room, Bellarose.

GREGORY: And I don't recall asking for your judgement on what I choose to do, Havisham.

ESTELLA: I bet you'd love for me say touché, wouldn't you?

GREGORY: I wouldn't expect it from you at this point.

GREGORY: Too eager to defy any man who dares say a word around you.

ESTELLA: Would you quit it with your therapist act, you blubber of a whale's anus?

ESTELLA: And stop playing dress up with that damned corpse.

GREGORY: [sigh]

GREGORY: Fine.

GREGORY: I suppose you're right.

GREGORY: Undressing a dead man's shirt is certainly not something I'd like to recall doing later on in life.

ESTELLA: You have at least one brain cell in that musty, endless pit of a head, I see.

ESTELLA: Now are you planning on helping with this mess, or are you too busy thinking of the next person you wish to place your meaningless pity upon?

GREGORY: Oh as if you'd need my help.

GREGORY: If I recall, you spent the majority of your time walking here telling me not to interfere.

GREGORY: It's not as if I've been dead longer than you.

ESTELLA: How long you've been deceased doesn't suddenly grant you the ability to know how to close a portal to hell, you know.

ESTELLA: Don't think you have any sort of superiority over me just for being dead a few months longer than I, you regurgitated, corrosive waste of a vulture's innards.

ESTELLA: I could use a few hands, regardless of how useless you may be.

ESTELLA: So stop wallowing on about how comfortable a dead body should be and help me.

GREGORY: Close it yourself you leather-skinned snake.

ESTELLA: Oh what's the matter now?

ESTELLA: You're so ridiculously soft-centered, you know that?

GREGORY: I don't need your opinion on everything I decide to care about right now!

GREGORY: As if I'd ever want criticism from someone as pathetically try-hard as you, anyhow.

ESTELLA: It's not like you haven't been doing the same thing to me, you psychoanalyzing, waterlog-brained dolt.

ESTELLA: Go on then! I don't need your help.

ESTELLA: Like always, I won't be letting my feelings get in the way of what needs to be done.

GREGORY: Uhuh, you go ahead and do that!

ESTELLA: I will!

GREGORY: …

GREGORY: Hm…

GREGORY: You know, computers screens have gotten quite thinner since I've died.

ESTELLA: Is that really what you choose to think about now?

ESTELLA: After what we just spoke of?

ESTELLA: How simple-minded of you.

GREGORY: Well I had no choice but to look away from you, to the only thing of actual interest in this room.

GREGORY: I can't see how this boy lives in such a tasteless room…

GREGORY: Though…

GREGORY: Hm…

GREGORY: Actually, Estella…

ESTELLA: What is it now, you walking disease of a man?

GREGORY: Looking at this computer…

GREGORY: I haven't a clue what this site is.

GREGORY: But… what's on it is… quite interesting…

ESTELLA: In what way?

ESTELLA: I'm far too busy with less nonsensical matters to come over and look, you dirty, petrified oaf.

GREGORY: Well…

GREGORY: For as little as this man speaks, he sure seems louder online.

GREGORY: It's… almost as if Craig wants to lead us right to him…

ESTELLA: Yes, I'm sure he left his computer on exactly for this revelation of yours.

GREGORY: Well then. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I played around with his little site during our down time here.

ESTELLA: How ever so productive of you.

How To Make A Ask Blog On Tumblr

Source: https://hellpark.tumblr.com/

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