Unearthly Puns

debillatated

They believe it is the remains of the long lost Pharaoh Rocher.

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

NASA decided to send a vegetable to space. After the rough takeoff the spud soiled himself.

Operation Spud-Nik turned violent when the astronauts, due to unforeseen circumstances, ran out of food. It wasn't long before the five guys came up with a plan. They unearthed him and gouged his eyes out. As unappealing as it sounded, spud was sliced up, fried and eaten. Noone seemed to mind a little assault. Sometimes spaceflight is unpredictable and dirty sacrifices must be made.

He said, "I dig the past!"

The team unearthed a layer of rock tessellations resembling a violin as viewed from behind.

As of yet they have no name for this strata variance.

Ok, so this one needs a bit of buildup.

At the time (a week or so ago) I was making a homebrew item for DnD (for the uninformed, Homebrew are custom made items/classes/spells to use in a DnD game at the discretion of the DM (Dungeon Master)).

I had shown this item (shameless plug) to my friend (who is also the DM of the campaign I'm in now) in the hopes of using it in the campaign. He had pointed out that the item was a bit OP for it's cost and that the homebrew page I had made for it was too long. We were discussing ways to improve both the item and the page, and then got on the topic of magic items in general.

It went something along the lines of this:

DM: ... you can't really destroy a magic item before removing the magic from it. Like, you could try to melt down a magic sword for example, but all that would really do is make it too hot to hold. You could even bend it, but not outright destroy it.

Me: That's gotta be one pissed off magic sword.

DM: I mean, yeah, if it's sentient.

Me: Maybe it got so angry at being bent, that it gains sentience just spite you or something.

DM: Well, yeah maybe.

And this, people of reddit, is when the PUN, popped into my head.

Me: *leans in* you could say that the sword gained sentience cuz it got... bent out of shape.

A second or two of silence, and I see the pun register in his head, and I fucking lost it.

I then laugh for a straight minute. After about ten secunds of me busting a gut, he said "Aight, Imma head out"

We're cool now, but he really didn't want to talk to me the next day.

In 1827, after Beethoven died, he was buried outside the local church, in the graveyard, and people came to pay their respects frequently.

One morning, about a week after the funeral, two girls came to leave some flowers on his grave, only to hear strange, unearthly sounds coming from it. Creeped out, they called for the local Paranormal Investigator.

The Investigator arrived an hour later, and with him, a small crowd, who had come to see what was happening to the composer’s grave.

Suddenly, one member of the crowd exclaimed, “I recognise that sound! It’s his 9th Symphony, backwards!”

Soon after, another said, “and that’s his 8th, backwards!”

After leaning closer to the grave to inspect this for himself, the Investigator straightened himself up, gave a soft chuckle, and said:

“Never fear, ladies and gentlemen! Beethoven’s just decomposing.”

Agar kisine Favde ka galat istemaal kiya to UNEARTH hoo jayega😂