"If this movie was a dog, I'd have it put down. If it was a car, I'd have it impounded. If this movie was a starving young woman, pleading with me for just a little bite of my ham and salami sandwich, I would kill her."

"Sometimes it's interesting to see just how bad bad writing can be. This one promised to go the limit."

"I don't think I can properly prepare you for what we're about to see, but if you think I've cried wolf one too many times with similar claims, believe me when I say that it's the only video that's ever made my VCR throw up electronic guts and explode."

"You know, sometimes I wish that instead of just a power off button, the Nintendo had a FUCK YOU button that launched the cartridge out fast enough it would shatter on the wall. It might kill a few kids, but once you show how much Wayne's World needs to be destroyed, any judge would rule all the deaths as acceptable losses."

"The second one's funny. I mean, it's so bad it's great. But Turtles III is just so bad, it's bad. Yeah, Turtles II had its share of stupidity, like when they crash through a wall and they find out that Vanilla Ice happens to be performing at a club right next door to the bad guys' hideout, and he's just able to bust out a "ninja rap" all of a sudden. It's retarded, yes, but it's hysterical. It's a Guilty Pleasure. Now Turtles III, it just makes me feel embarrassed, like watching it actually makes me cringe. I feel like I have to turn the volume down and face the TV toward the wall and watch it in a dark corner of somewhere where nobody will ever know. It just leaves you with a bad, bad feeling, like this movie should not exist."

"This movie doesn't scrape the bottom of the barrel. This movie isn't the bottom of the barrel. This movie isn't below the bottom of the barrel. This movie doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence with barrels."

"...I understand that it can be difficult to make an quality film on a shoestring budget. I realize that time and money restraints often mean that scenes have to be changed or cut at the last minute, so that the final product is often far different from what the creators had in mind when filming began. Indeed, I sympathize with the legions of young filmmakers out there who can't resist the camera's siren song despite lacking the funds, support, or talent necessary to bring their vision to life. But man, there is a fucking limit."

"I can take it. I've been through this, twice, with extra care taken to get good screenshots. This has taken me weeks. The ending made everything clear to me. I have passed though the valley of darkness, and I am perfectly sane. I have suffered your thievery, vocals, Nilmates, editing, lies, Nilmates and blather, and I pass through them unscathed at the last. The abyss dares not face me. I'll stare down elder gods. Survive this fiasco of yours. I'll play your damn sequel.

Bring it on, Majestic."

"A strange film... the only way to enjoy it is not to watch."

Nick: I'm not the first guy who fell in love with a woman that he met at a restaurant who turned out to be the daughter of a kidnapped scientist only to lose her to her childhood lover whom she last saw on a deserted island who then turned out fifteen years later to be the leader of the French Underground.
Hillary: I know. It all sounds like some bad movie.

"Um. Ehh...ummm Uh buh buh.......I know I'm paid to talk for a living. I am incapable of doing what I'm paid to do right now. I'm absolutely stunned."

"This film is frequently hampered by the fact that it’s horrible."

Rebecca: This is so bad it's almost good.

Enid: This is so bad it's gone past good and back to bad again.

"There are good movies. There are bad movies. There are movies so bad they're good (though, strangely, not the reverse). And once in a while there is a movie so bad that it takes you to a place beyond good and evil and abandons you there, shivering and alone."

"Some people think, mistakenly, that the Star Wars Holiday Special is hilariously entertaining in the it's-so-bad-it's-good category. These people are idiots. Idiots who have never sat through an entire viewing of the Holiday Special. True, parts of the special are great fun, however the vast majority of the special is completely unwatchable. It is mostly like watching a one-armed, blind, five-year-old bowl in slow motion for an hour and a half."

"Do yourself a favor and avoid this game like the plague. In fact, avoid it like you would avoid something that you avoid more than the plague."

"It stinks!"

"How serendipitous for you that I happened upon your story! You are about to receive one of my more creative flames, written from the copious amount of words which people suggested for my flame-writing challenge. After all, one can only use a copy-paste flame for so long before it becomes trite, right?

"Right.

"Now, before I crack my knuckles and begin, I certainly hope you don’t suffer from katagelophobia as I’m about to flame this disastrous fiasco you call a story, or from triskaidekaphobia as this sentence will end with the number 13.

"I wish I could tell you that you didn’t have superfluous spelling errors or that your loathsome grammar didn’t make me cringe. I wish I could tell you that your plot wasn’t turbid and your characters banal. And I also wish I could work the word antidisestablishmentarianism into this flame….but, alas, I can’t do any of those things.

"Now, perhaps there is an excuse for you posting this irredeemable excrement. Maybe you were drunk on a few strawberry daiquiris, or maybe you were even attacked by a bevy of flailing birds when you were younger, thus causing a permanent writing-related affliction. Or perhaps your computer was hijacked by a crank-addicted Sasquatch or a monkey whose loose sphincter and love of broccoli causes an aeruginous effluvium wherever he goes.

"Whatever the excuse, it doesn’t make your story inscrutable to honest feedback like this:

"I would rather attend a hoedown where inbred midgets caterwaul and perform fouettes while some guy named Jed plays the piano with an unmentionable body part than read any more of this pitiful abomination you call a story. I would rather be forced to participate in the domestication of rabid chupacabras than read one more sentence of your crap. I would even rather have an internship with Microsoft where I have to juxtapose logarithms for no reason and answer questions in pig-Latin about misconfigurations or network error messages all day.

"I wish I could have faith that you will have an epiphany from this and produce a copasetic story, or that you’ll become obsequious to the fundamentals of the English language, but I think my left testicle will become a famous daredevil who competes in monster truck races before that happens. In other words: as a writer, you fail."

Best regards,

Pillar Of Winter

"To be quite frank, this story cannot be described with any word(s) associated with/related to/have anything to do with anything positive in any way whatsoever. It is a waste of space, which is certainly saying something, taking into consideration the fact that it is posted online and therefore physically cannot actually take up space, much less be a waste of space.

"Therefore, let me congratulate you on being one of the very few who have managed to accomplish this daunting task. Your Fanfiction, in short, was simply just that terrible. I, in all honestly, simply can't fathom the reason such an atrocity would even be posted on this site. Before you think about writing more, I strongly suggest, no, scratch that, DEMAND that you achieve some level of writing skill that could be deemed somewhat tolerable, or at least bearable, if at all possible.

"This demand is not only for my sake, but for the sake of all Fan Fiction fans out there that use and love this site. Please don't abuse such a wonderful thing by posting utter garbage. It's a disgrace."

"You know what? Fuck you Sonic, fuck you Tails, fuck you balls, fuck you Aquatic Base, fuck you Shadow, fuck you Silver, fuck you laser fence, fuck you Elise, FUCK EVERYONE! FUCK THIS GAME!"

"That was so awful, I think it gave me cancer!"

Dear Kantaris,

"First I'd like to say thank you for mustering your courage and posting your story in Creative Convention. Between all this "natural talent" and "good material" every now and then we need what literary types call "a sun-ripened catbox full of pig intestines" to relax with.

"Second of all I'd like to say my thank you was insincere and that you are arguably the biggest faggot to vomit his bullshit all over what is generally a good fiction forum. Without reading - without so much as scanning - this forum, you decided you'd drop off your Vin-Diesel-Meets-Monopoly-Man-Meets-THE-UNFUNNIEST-FUCKING-BUNCH-OF-SHIT story off here so we would "appreciate" it for you.

"Well guess what, Kantaris: Nobody appreciated this piece of shit. I read this and my balls shriveled up inside my stomach. This story is awful. It's so bad - so outright terrible - my finger's itching to go under your name and click the "permaban" button on principle. I won't do that because I have self-restraint, something you clearly lack.

"How do I know you lack it? Because you shat this out and didn't even stop to think you might delete it before you embarrass yourself. You just thought "hey, I had this TOTALLY FUCKIN RANDOM conversation with my brosef at work, better post it up for them folks at that Creative Forum". If I were you, I personally wouldn't have the time or capacity to post this. Why? Because as soon as it came off my fingers, onto the keyboard, my hands would be occupied propping a shotgun under my chin.

"You wretch. You low-down, yellow-bellied cocksucker. My one hope in this life used to be to fuck Christina Ricci in one of those mirrored-ceiling hotels. Not now. You wanna know what it is? Do you? I hope - I pray to Christ, Kantaris - that I come across an auto accident involving you and your family. I hope that the last thing you see before you die is me impaling your newborn son's head on a broken part of your car's frame. I hope that the last sound that crosses the barrier to your ears before the lights go out is the splootching sound my erect penis makes as it repeatedly penetrates the gushing wound in your wife's throat.

"And you know the worst part? You think this is funny. Something so bad has happened in your life that you looked at this and you were proud enough to think - just for a second - that this is something worthwhile. You know what, Kantaris? The people who write "Drawn Together" would snub this. Pictures of old women being violently raped with Medieval weaponry are infinitely funnier than this story could ever hope to be. I'd rather watch my chronically depressed mother swing neck-first from a ceiling fan than I would ever read this again.

"You ruined my forum, Kantaris. You ruined my life's one dream. You ruined fiction. All in one fell swoop, Kantaris. I hope it was worth it."

Regards, you fucking scoundrel,

Evan "Pantsfish" Wade

"Now you're playing with power. Now you're playing with fuckin' shit! You're better off fuckin' shit than fucking with this fucked up shit! Fuck this shit! You don't shit about how fuckin' shitty this fuckin' shit is. It's so bad it sucks. It's so fuckin' suck it fucks. And I...can't take it anymore."

"This. Is. It! The worst! The absolute worst! No story, no character, no plot... just pain! Pure, concentrated pain! There has never been anything this bad in the history of badness! It should be studied! It should be analyzed! It is... pure evil! I don't know whether to give it to a scientist to examine or a priest to exorcise. I mean, it is remarkable. It is absolutely remarkable! Even the closing credits are hurting me! Everything about this movie is just plain horrendous!"

"Screw this game, screw Arika, screw replay, screw Cave. Even if Cave's like 100 million times better than Treasure, screw Cave. Screw Extra Mode for having an extra special--extra special hard version of DOOM I can't even practice. I'm gonna rush over to Shmups Forum and flush this down Trading Station as fast as I can."

Robotnik: Well, that was "Wishology", boys. What do you have to say for yourselves?
Scratch: I cried. I cried. I give it a thumbs-down!
Grounder: I give it the finger... no, I give it the double deuce!