Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25036236-20150119173246

Here's my new pasta! It needs reviewed, so I'm open to advice!---How do you react when you see a Jack-in-the-box? You'd usually wind it up while hearing "Pop! Goes the weasel" before a piece of your childhood pops out. But, I'd break the handle off if I see one of those... You see, as weird as it may sound, I was a toy collector. Yeah. But not that type that plays with toys... I just collect antique and vintage things, like old tricycles, wooden dolls... and Jack-in-the-boxes. You know, they're valuable... But, that's besides the point. I was looking through some toy stores, and asked if they had any vintage Jack-in-the-boxes. I finally found one, and they gave me a black Jack-in-the-box. The decoration on the side said "Jacked up in a box! For adults only." Oddly enough, they gave it to me because I am an adult. The title of it seemed to fill me with curiosity, however. Why was it for adults only? What the heck does "Jacked up in a box" mean? I took it back to my house, and set it in the collectibles room. I fell asleep around 9:15 PM, and I had a dream, that I was impaled, and scrunched up in a box. After that, I was rotated and torn up, and then... I flew into bits and pieces... It was about 10:45 PM when I heard an unsettling noise. I went up, and heard it coming from the Jack-in-the-box. I was hearing a baby moaning. "What the hell?..." I said. I started turning the crank, and he screamed. As I kept turning, he screamed louder and louder. And, then, the Jack-in-the-box popped open... and the sight was awful as I saw his corpse fly out of the box. "Holy shit!" I yelled. His limbs and neck were broken, blood gushed from his orifices, and his eyes were wide open. It almost made me cry. I cleaned up the mess, and quickly threw the box into a closet. I put the baby in a cardboard box, taped it shut, and put it in the garage, so it didn't stink up the house. I didn't call the police, because I would be charged with murder. After calming down, I went to sleep, trying to forget about the box. When I woke up, I heard another cry for help. A boy was in pain, and wanted help. I checked on the box, and it was a lot bigger than it was before. I took it outside, and didn't worry, because I don't live in a neighborhood. I cranked it up... and the boy was screaming. When the box popped, the boy's arms and legs and head were torn off, but they were just disconnected. He was in six pieces (head, body, 2 arms, 2 legs). That's the point I decided to bury the box, and the corpses. The next day... the box was poking out of the ground. It was even bigger now. It's crank was rusted, but still turnable. It was about 4 feet in width and length. Now, a man was moaning. "Kill me... kill me please..." I didn't turn it, though... I never wanted to kill to begin with. I just lugged it on my truck, and took it to the dump. The workers smelled something beyond the dump's stench coming from the box, and were more concerned about that than the size of the box. I told them not to, but they cranked it. As it popped, it was more gruesome. There were more bits and pieces than I could count. They called the cops, and I was found guilty of murder charge. The box was taken, and I never saw it again. If you ever find this box, do not crank it. Never crank it.---Now, we can all be MATURE. And please be nice... I haven't written a creepypasta in nearly a year... Make sure that you don't just say "Remove this" or "remove that". Tell me what I should add! 