Story time, /vp/.
I discovered Pokemon sprite comics when I was 10. We had just got our first computer with internet access, and the fact that you could get these images straight from the games and form new stories with them was mindblowing at the time.
So after a while, I decided I wanted to make my own. The only problem? I didn't know where to get the sprites, let alone how to turn them into a comic. So I drew it out on paper. I made everything look as sprite-like as I could, down to the overhead perspective and chibi-style people. Normally I was worried about my parents finding my drawings, but this time I decided, fuck it. I packed the comic with as much violence, sexuality, and swearing as my 10-year-old mind could fathom (I should mention, my parents were devout Christians who ranked swearing up there with masturbation on the list of things you shouldn't do). It starts off with a Sex Ed teacher getting brutally murdered by a Poliwrath. A student named Betty finds his dead body, and teams up with her friend to figure out who killed him. They end up discovering a secret guild of Pokemon that goes around killing humans for some reason.
After a few pages of drawing, I realized it was going nowhere and had just become an excuse to draw brutal killings. So I crumpled it up and stuck it in a drawer.
A few days later, I went to that drawer and realized it had all been uncrumpled. I had no siblings at the time. What other explanation was there? My parents had seen it. I got a pair of scissors and tore the whole thing to shreds. I then stuck the pieces in a folder and taped it shut. My parents never brought it up, but there's no way they couldn't have read it. Even today, thinking about it makes me feel stressed out.
I still have that folder in my closet somewhere. I wonder if I could piece the comic back together.
