Tower of the NecroDancer

Hello, and welcome to what may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever made. This is a mod for Crypt of the NecroDancer featuring your favorite TU playermodel: Milk. I’ve been working on this off and on for a couple months now, and I’m really excited to finally release it. Here’s the trailer I made for it!

I don’t proclaim to be any good at pixel art, and I don’t consider any of this to be professional level stuff. Despite all that, I’m proud of what I did. If you’ve got Crypt of the NecroDancer, maybe you’ll enjoy taking this dumb mod for a spin. There’s two versions: one for the full TU experience with 101 modded sprites, and one for the Milk-based stuff alone with only 71 modded sprites. There’s changes both incredibly obvious and somewhat small, so keep an eye out and you may find a surprising detail. You can find both mods here:

Full mod:
Milk only mod:

As a note, most of these sprites weren’t made from scratch. Plenty were heavily based off TU images to the point of practically being low-quality traces, and many of the character sprites feature details lifted straight off their non-modded counterpart. Heck, the LC dragon shopkeeper is literally just a slightly shortened copy of the one from Grand Quest in the Casino!

You’ll also find that I created some badly written fanfiction lore to explain why Milk ended up in the Crypt 14 times, each with oddly specific restrictions. You can read that below, if you don’t value your eyes.


Milk had been having a good day. They had finally managed to get a bowling score higher than 20, typed out a whole word in Typing Derby, and even managed to not get evicted from Zombie Massacre for a whole round! Heck, Milk even nabbed some extra hardware; somehow, they managed to keep the dagger and shovel they had picked up during the game. It seemed that everything was going Milk’s way today. They had heard rumors of a secret room in the Transit Station tunnels; assuming today really was Milk’s lucky day, they simply could not miss out on something as mysterious as this.

Ever curious, Milk set out on his quest. The sun was high in the sky, so guests probably wouldn’t be arriving nor would they be leaving; the trains would hopefully remain still during the carton’s adventure. Walking down the tiled corridors of the Transit Station, Milk traversed to a barren tunnel. Glancing both ways, there was not sight nor sound of any approaching vehicle. The carton took off running, seeking any odd looking panel or hidden knob through which a hidden room might lie. Not long after, Milk noticed a peculiar red light up ahead. This must be it!

To the side of the track lay an opening filled with the low energy lighting of red bulbs. Milk excitedly rushed to the room, nearly tripping as they tried to turn suddenly. There wasn’t much inside; aside from the lights and some pipes, the only notable feature was a mysterious grate screwed to the floor. Milk attempted to peer through the grate’s bars, but they sloped in a way that prevented getting a good view of what lay below. Milk had found the room, though, and they weren’t about to give up on solving this clear secret’s mystery. Recalling the dagger they had snuck out of ZM, Milk took out the small blade and tried using it as a makeshift screwdriver.

One screw came loose. Then two, after which the third and fourth clattered next to the grate. Pulling the metallic covering off, Milk felt a chill go down their paper spine. Milk peered down the hole, but only inky darkness met their figurative eyes. There was a sinister air about the pit, one that gripped at the carton. Milk had always idly danced to his own beat; at parties, the carton would always be out of sync with the music. Their tempo had always been constant, but something about this dreadful darkness was changing that. Milk noticed their rhythm altering to some sick beat from below, and it disgusted them.

Before Milk could pull themselves away from the pit, however, a sudden rumbling echoed through the corridor. A train carrying unexpected guests had appeared without warning! As it charged along the rails, the tremors it caused knocked Milk off balance. The carton tipped over and fell into the void below.

There’s something you should know about the Tower resort. The land was purchased at quite a cheap price, which would be surprising for its location if it were not for what lie beneath. You see, the skeletons which grace the resort are not guests from outside; they originate from a series of cursed catacombs beneath the island. This buried graveyard was once a place of legends; legends of treasure, monsters, and a tool which could give life to the deceased. This forgotten tomb which Milk had fallen into was once known as…

The Crypt of the NecroDancer.


It was hard not to notice the change in Milk’s gait. Apparently the carton had survived going through some sort of crypt, though they did have evidence. They had suddenly acquired a fair bit of treasure and had apparently invested it in risky stock options, but one bit of wealth they had retained was an instrument. It’s craftsmanship was unmatched, and the whole of it was fashioned out of pure gold. It was a lute, and even gazing on it seemed to reveal a hidden power to it.

One figure who took notice of Milk’s new wealth wasn’t actually at the resort that day. They weren’t at the resort any day, yet they did business anyways. Rob sensed that money could be made, and knew that there was one particularly liquid asset he could use. Milk’s SousaPhone rang as the businessman called.

“Hey, it’s ya boy Rob! Listen, I gotta let you in on somethin’. You know that crypt ya went explorin’ the other day?”

Milk nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve got a feelin’ that your golden lute ain’t the only bit of treasure in there. Whadduya say to this: we’ll have ya go back through that crypt, grab everything ya can, and we split the treasure fifty fifty? It’s a win-win for the both of us!”

Milk was excited by this proposal, and nodded vigorously.

“Then it’s a deal! Hey, you should take your lute with ya, too; that thing looks like it could really do some damage. Oh yeah, we got some more Bru Ray playahs in stock again; feel free to pick on up free of charge, my treat!”

With that, Rob hung up and Milk got to work. Golden lute in hand, they took a hop and charged right back into the crypt.


Milk had made it! They had reached the end of the crypt yet again! There didn’t seem to be as much in the way of treasure this time around, but the carton hadn’t given up yet. Scouring the corners of the empty room, they noticed a faded glint. Inspecting this, they found what seemed to be an ornamental dagger lying in the dust. Finally, something worthwhile! They picked it up, bouncing in place with giddy excitement.

Just then, their SousaPhone rang.

“Hey, buddy! It’s Rob again! Just wanted to relay a message to you: apparently Kalleira dropped a cursed dagger and can’t find it. If you see something like that, don’t touch it. She says it makes people so weak that even a misplaced heartbeat could kill them! Sounds ridiculous to me, but whatever. Hope that treasure hunt’s going well, can’t wait to see what you’ve got!”

The phone hung up. Milk looked down at the dagger in their hands. Oops.


A good bed does do wonders for you… Bradly thought, …but does an animated milk carton even need to sleep? Sweet Suite’s own owner was lazily watching Milk as they browsed the show floor. Milk’s idle bouncing reminded Bradley of something he had been meaning to get to. Moving large furniture items around will always a bit of a hassle, but with a bit of an investment he might be able to take some of the strain off. The only question was if the investment would be worth it.

Milk approached the counter, demanding to see a refrigerator. Ah, that makes sense. Of course that’s what would pass as sleep for them.

“Sorry, but we don’t sell refrigerators here. You’re looking for Central Circuit, just up the stairs and on the right.”

Milk turned to leave, but Bradley called out.

“Ah! Before you go, I’d actually like to ask a favor of you. I need to test some new footwear, and I can’t shake the feeling that you making it through that crypt everyone’s been talking about would be proof enough for me. Hey, I’ll even install your fridge for you if you want. How about it?”

Milk thought about this. Then they thought about the fact that they didn’t even have hands to hold onto things like refrigerators. The fact that this has never stopped them before never crossed their mind. Milk decided that this was advantageous, and gleefully agreed to help test whatever it was.

“Fantastic! Let me just get the pair of moon shoes I’ve got in back and we can get you going. Thanks!”


If they were being honest, Milk was looking to just relax for the day. Crypt delving and impulse shopping was fun and all, but even a perpetually dancing container of liquid needs some rest and relaxation every once in a while. The boardwalk had some nice attractions for chilling. Maybe Milk would hop on the ferris wheel, perhaps they would go for a round of bowling, maybe just relax on the beach for a bit. Yeah, a relaxing beachside stroll struck Milk as the first option to explore.

As they were strolling down to the sand, Milk found themself set upon by an incredibly energetic force. The sudden onset shocked the carton, and they could do nothing but stare as Celebrations’ own Overly Excited Man appeared and started yelling.


Milk metaphorically blinked. Just like that, the Overly Excited Man was nowhere to be found. Perhaps more concerning, though, was the fact that Milk was now holding far too many active explosives, had a weird metallic shovel hand, and had somehow ended up back in the Crypt with no recollection of having traveled. So much for a relaxing evening…


“You’ve finally arrived.”

Milk was barely keeping themself from trembling. They had been reckless with their money again, and the carton had forgotten to pay rent. There was only one other time Milk had been so foolish; those were repressed memories, now slowly trickling in again as the situation returned.

“Do not put on the facade of courage. I could taste the very moment terror beset you. I can hear the whispers of cursed souls murmuring rumors of your coming demise, and I can see your timeline stretch from the infinite blackness to the unending abyss. I can feel Them as well; They are watching, and I watch with Them.”

Words like this were why Milk avoided Jeff as much as possible. Jeff was always mysterious and more than a little disconcerting. Horizon’s dealer was the only one who dealt with resort property, though, so contacting Jeff for a place to stay was an unfortunate necessity.

“Ah, but I suppose we should skip the pleasantries today. You have come to me to profess apologies for debts left unpaid, and I tell you that your soul shall be spared. However, a debt must still be paid. I have an errand of which must be run, and I find that you will be most suited to the task. Return to the Crypt, and harvest the souls of the undead. Leave every coin you see; that shall be payment enough. Do not worry about them, and do not touch a single one. You know very well that there are fates worse than death. Perform this act, and I shall call off all debts of ours. Refuse, and we can always do as was done last time.”

Milk hastily agreed. Filled with fear, anxiety, and a little bit of relief, the carton wasted no time in returning to the Crypt once again.


Most resort residents had heard of Milk’s exploits within the Crypt, but to most it was simply a surprising and impressive bit of trivia. Few actually took interest in it, so Milk was caught off guard when they received a request. The carton had been looking to purchase another set of flowers to replace the last set which died of neglect (much like all the other bouquets they’ve purchased) when Daisy gave an inquisitive chirp.

Apparently, the bird wanted to expand her marketing efforts. There was a whole demographic on the island that didn’t know of Season’s offerings, and Daisy wanted to reach them; indeed, the undead had rather drab living arrangements, and the bird was sure that they’d appreciate a bit of greenery to spruce things up. Milk wasn’t expected to do the talking, of course; that would have been an objectively terrible idea. Rather, they would act as escort to the eloquent Birb. Daisy stressed that this was strictly peaceful marketing; just because the denizens of the Crypt had already died once didn’t mean they’d enjoy it again!

Milk had never considered themself to be a fan of bird watching, but they simply couldn’t refuse the request of a good friend. Flower in hand and Birb on head, Milk set out on their latest quest.


The bowling league was a rather exclusive club. You needed to bowl an average of over 250 over 5 games to even qualify, and on top of that you needed to be cool enough to be recognized by Darien. Being unable to even reliably hold a bowling ball should clearly disqualify you from even thinking about entering the league, yet Milk had returned to inquire about joining for the umpteenth time this week. Frankly, Darien was annoyed by the constant babbling this carton of dairy spewed out.

“Alright, shut up! I’ll make you a deal.” Darien sighed. He couldn’t believe he was about to even give this idiot an opening into the league, but it was this or deal with the maddening requests for eternity. “If you can prove to me that you’ve got enough class to hang with my league, I’ll let you in. I’ll even make it simple enough for you: you know that Crypt no one will shut up about? If you can survive that at double time, you can join the league. HOWEVER, when you inevitably fail, you will be banned from entering the bowling alley. Deal?”

Darien knew full well he didn’t actually have the power to evict someone from the premises for any reason, but he doubted that Milk knew about that. The carton, meanwhile, was ecstatic. Finally, all their hard work had paid off! It would just be a quick trip through the Crypt, and they’d be in the bowling league!


Business hadn’t been so good for Wade. Project 12’s scenic locale had served well, but it only barely outpaced the location’s exorbitant costs. It didn’t help that his other location, Volt Nightclub, had recently been flooded. While that was still getting cleared up, Wade had been trying to drum up a bit more business. The generic brand beverages that he’d been supplying had been satisfactory, but getting some exclusive and potent drinks would surely net him some of the more picky curators.

It had taken quite a while to get the concoction where he wanted it, but Wade finally felt like he might have something ready to sell. It would be too risky to put it right out into the market, though; he needed a test audience first. As if on queue, a certain carton approached the counter.

“Hey, it’s my favorite animated container! How are you doing? I get the feeling you’ve forgotten about your tab yet again…”

Milk averted his gaze sheepishly.

“Listen, I’m not gonna try to collect today. Actually, I think we can work out a deal that’ll benefit both of us. I can knock off ten percent of your bill, but I’m going to need a favor of you: I’ve got a new drink I’d like you to try. This one would be on the house.”

Ten percent off their tab, AND a free drink? How could Milk refuse? The carton gleefully accepted the offer and quickly downed the mystery beverage. Immediately, a strange feeling overtook them. Things seemed… off. Had Wade started bouncing? No, it was the other way around; Milk had stopped! In their drunken stupor, the paper container had completely lost their sense of rhythm. Time seemed to stop, then it seemed to move too fast. Was Milk moving? This looked familiar. The haze began to lift, but the rhythm was still missing. The carton, slowly coming back to their right mind, quickly realized that they had stumbled back into the Crypt. It felt different this time; the usual cursed beat seemed to be unable to grab onto Milk. It seemed that this time Milk would be the one dictating the beat.


“Yep, it’s been waterlogged alright.” Nick was inspecting the broken SousaPhone he had been given. “You know you shouldn’t swim with electronic stuff, right? This is the third time this has happened this month. I’ve been generous with our warranty policies, but I can’t just keep replacing these for you. If you’re looking to get a replacement, it’s going to cost you this time.”

Hearing this, Milk was dejected. They needed a SousaPhone, but they didn’t have any money left! How else would they play terrible music far too loudly in public places?

Nick sighed. “Listen, I’ll let you off the hook, but you’re going to have to do me a favor. I recently got an intern, but she didn’t turn up to work today. She left a message saying that she was heading into the Crypt in order to harness its power or something, probably to try and take over the world. The problem is that I also found out she stole the electric lute I was working on, and I kind of need that back. If you could get that for me, I’d be fine with getting you another replacement. Does that work for you?”

Milk had been through the Crypt before, so they found no reason they couldn’t go at it again. If it would get them their phone back, it would certainly be worth the effort. A quick nod and the deal was sealed.

“Oh yeah, before I forget: Kalleira mentioned that she had something that might help you if you were going back into the Crypt. You might check in with her before you go.”

Something from Kalleira? Milk was intrigued; the backpacked merchant tended to carry stranger wares, so the carton didn’t doubt that she might have something useful. It was a quick stroll to get from Central Circuits to Kalleira’s usual spot, and Milk took a second to gaze as the stars were coming out of the early night sky. The full moon shone brightly as well, completing the picturesque night sky. If only there were some sort of handheld, phone-based device which could capture the image and wasn’t currently filled with ocean water.

Milk found Kalleira packing up for the day. She seemed quite focused; perhaps there was something she was looking forwards to tonight. When she noticed the animated container strolling up, she put on a smile and gave a warm greeting.

“Hello ~na! You’re heading back into the Crypt, right?”

Milk nodded.

“Then I assume you’ve heard that I’ve found something I think will help you tackle those catacombs ~naywn. Here, let me get it for you. Seeing if it works is payment enough ~meow!”

Suddenly, Kalleira revealed a bat which immediately flew over to Milk and bit them about where you’d say their neck would be if they had one. The carton was too stunned to do anything, and the bat flew off without a trace.

“Ah, such a majestic creature of the night ~nya… Well, let’s see if he worked his magic!”

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen; just the light trickle of milk out of the tiny holes. Then, with an audible FOOMP, two cardboard wings appeared out the back of Milk.

“Huh, so that’s what a vampiric milk carton looks like. Interesting ~hm!”

This felt all wrong to Milk. Was this supposed to give them power? They did feel something strange inside… With another surprise POOF, Milk had performed the classic vampire trick of turning into a bat; though, this bat was clearly nontraditional. The wings were as expected, but instead of a bat body there was just a comically large school-cafeteria-style milk carton flapping about. This was just too weird for Milk, and they turned back to request that Kalleira return them to normal.

However, Kalleira had just up and disappeared. In her place was a sign which simply read: “Out on date! Be back by morning ~nya!” Looking up to the full moon, Milk realized they should have expected as much. They’d just have to wait until morning to get the whole vampire thing fixed, but until then they could go stop an overzealous intern.


As Milk strolled into Songbirds, they admired the music blaring throughout the store. Not that there were any speakers, of course; Landin just liked to keep his headphones turned up that much. The shopkeep noticed the customer, and put a pause on his music for a bit.

“Hey, man, what’s up? You here for some new records or somethin’?”

Milk shook their head. They had something else in mind.

“Ah, wait, this is about that party you weren’t invited to, isn’t it? That must have gotten, uh, mixed up in the mail… yeah. Sorry bro, but you can’t come without an invitation. It’s a shame.”

Landin knew perfectly well that he hadn’t invited Milk to his latest party. The carton just didn’t have any good dance moves, and his presence would just make everyone feel awkward. Though, as Landin looked at Milk’s sorry face (or lack thereof), he did feel a bit of remorse. The kid wasn’t annoying, they just couldn’t dance. Then, an idea struck.

“Hey, I think there’s somethin’ we can do. I’ve been working on some new dance moves. Maybe, if you can master them, I can slip you an extra invitation.”

Landin was pleased to see Milk get excited at the idea. They needed dance moves, and Landin needed to see if his new ones were actually any good. Besides, if Milk could make them look good, anyone could.

A “quick” tutorial session later, and Milk felt like they had the basics. Landin was happy that his new moves were simple enough for the admittedly slow learning carton to pick up. Still, they needed more practice if they were to be ready for the party.

“Listen, bud. You’re getting better, but you’re going to need to master the craft before I can get you in. How about you take those new moves through that Crypt? I’m sure practicing down there will do wonders for your technique.”

Milk had to admit, that was a good idea. They felt like this new set of moves could even help them navigate the cursed halls more effectively. That would remain to be seen, but there was only one way to find out.


“Milk, I know you. I know you well enough to know that you would really enjoy these items, but I also know you well enough to know that you definitely don’t have enough money to cover the price of a hundred plushies.”

Toystop’s Richard had a soft spot for Milk. They were a valuable customer, and never seemed to run out of raw enthusiasm. Unfortunately, this enthusiasm was untempered; while their excitement never ran dry, the same could not be said for their bank account.

“Hey, cheer up pal. With a bit of hard work, and some smart budgeting, I’m sure you can reach your goal! In fact, I think I might be able to help; I had an order come in through the Express, but the usual fleet doesn’t deliver to this order’s location. Someone at the end of the Crypt’s bought a pet watermelon, and I can’t really leave my post to take it to them. I know you’ve got experience with the Crypt, right? If you can make this delivery, I’ll be more than happy to fund your bulk order.”

Milk was a bit scared of taking on the responsibility of caring for a pet, but they knew this was a job they couldn’t pass up. Someone needed their pet, and Milk needed their plushies. If it meant defending a watermelon with their life, they would gladly do so with honor.


Shopping for fireworks is always a little bit stressful. Celebrations was not known as the safest place; you could still smell the ash from the last time it burned down. Milk was browsing warily. They glanced over at the storekeeper. Milk could have sworn that the man behind the counter was vibrating, whether with excitement or some crazy device would never be known. The carton returned to browsing the explosives. Even they understood that all of these were questionable in quality and safety compliance. Hopefully none would go off during the purchase process.

Milk finally found some good ones. Grabbing them, the carton turned to order, but the clerk wasn’t there anymore.


The sudden yell startled Milk. They dropped their fireworks and turned around to find the Overly Excited Man staring at them only inches away.


Milk was shell shocked. The Overly Excited Man disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, and Milk realized that they had somehow ended up in the Crypt again. Glancing down, the carton also noticed that the fireworks pack the Overly Excited Man had been yelling about. Sure enough, it looked exactly as dangerous as it sounded. Milk realized they’d need to keep killing things; they didn’t want to know just how dangerous that finale really was.


Milk stormed out of the bowling alley. Another total loss. Milk was frustrated. They had thought that joining the bowling league would give them spontaneously amazing bowling ability, but they seemed to be doing even worse than normal! They wanted to enjoy the activity, but with such poor results, even the usually joyously oblivious Milk was getting fed up with this. If only they could use some of the wealth they got from the Crypt to get some sort of advantage… like, utilize some form of microtransactions…

Time seemed to freeze in that instant. The bright day was immediately overcast with dark clouds announced by a crack of thunder as the sky turned blood red. The winds became tumultuous, and light poles began to break and fall. Umbrellas were swept away as the ocean waves became furious and stormed higher than Milk had ever seen. They looked up.

A host of figures cloaked in dark robes descended from the heavens, their heads hidden in an unnaturally pitch blackness. They surrounded Milk with a silent menace that sent chills straight into Milk’s core. This was even more terrifying than Jeff.

The Admins were here.

The terrifying figures spoke in haunting unison. “Y̢o̡͠u̴͜ ͏h̶͏̡a̛v͟e̡͏ ̡͜u̧t҉ţ͟e̶̕r͜͟e͠͏ḑ̛ ̴̢t͢ḩ͡͝e̕ ͡f͞͏o͜r̀bid͏d̷͜͡e̶n ͢͡w̵͢o̵r̷̵d͠͡. ̴Fo̴r ́͠͡t͜hi̧̧̕ş,̧ ̶͝͠y̧ǫ͜u̵̢̡ ́͝m̛ùs̵t͝ ͏̀b҉e̵̶ ̸͡p̢͏́uń̢̕ìs̀͘h̢ȩ͘d.̴ ̕͘Y͞o̕ú ̧͟w͞i̧͞l̵l̶̵ ̷̵b̶e ̀҉͞cu̴r̢͘s̴̡e͏d̡͘ ̵̀t̵o̶͠͝ ̢wal̷̡k͞ ̸̕͢ą̴s̢ ̷ą̵̢n u͡n̢ḩ̀o͘l͏͟͏y̵̧̡ ͡d͘͘e̢͘͝m̵ǫ̵͘n ͏́ų̴n̕͟t͟͞il̷ ̵ỳ̨̧o͏u̴͘ ͘͢ca̡͏n̨ ̸͘p͢r͘͟o̡̢̨ve̵ t̶͜͠h̢͢a̷҉t̡҉ ̸̢̀y̴͟òu͝ ͝҉̢n̨e͡͠e͏͢d̵ ҉͘no̡̕t́ ̸m̨o̕n̸̛e̷͜y͢ ͞t̴͜o͘ ̴͘a͞cc̸̶o̢m҉p͏͘l͝is̕h̴̢ tą͡s̶͠k̨s̡.”

Milk felt their form twisting, though nothing much actually changed. They sprouted a thin, purple tail that lashed about and their hairless head grew out a rather impressive mohawk. Another crash of thunder startled Milk as they found themselves back within the Crypt.

“Y͜o̵ų̷ ͠a͟r̀͠é̀ ̨͢͢f̸͟o͟r̕b́i̴͟dd̀̀e̶ǹ̷͏ ̛́f̶̢̛r̀́͡o̵͞m ͘͞s̴̕e̷̕͢ţ̨̛t̨̡̀i̷̧͡n̵g̷͜͜ ͡f͝҉o̴̸͠o̸̢͏t͜͟ ̡͝w̵̨̛ithi͝ņ̀̀ ̛́͢t͜h̢̀e r̛e҉s͞͝͡o̷͡r͠͠ţ̧ ̵͠u̴̸̧n͘͢͠t͢͢ìl̵̛ y̸̴͘o̸͝u͝ ̧c̢a҉̴͠ņ͢ ̸͝c̀ò̢́mp̶͡l͞͡e͏̧͢te͏͞ ̷̀o̵͝ur̛͠ ͘t͞͠r҉i͡a̢ĺ̛s҉̛͞.̸ ̵F̵i͞r͢s͟͜t̸,́͜ ҉̸y̵͟͞o̕͜u̢͜ ́ḿ̶us̶͏̶t̵̛ p͜ass̢҉ ̷͟t̸̛h͏͟͡r̶͞o̡͝ug̢̛͝h ͘thę͝ ̸̛ent̵͏͟i̸ŗ͞e͘͢͡t͡y̛ ͝o̢͏̧f͝ ̶t͝͏̧h̶ȩ͘̕ ̸C̕r̸y͠͝p͜t ̴͢i̴̡n͠ ̕a ̧̢s̀inģl̕ȩ f҉̕el҉̶l̸ ͞͡s҉w͞ơ̴̛ò͠p̀̕҉, ̴͢tơ͏̴ ̶͡p̵̀r̵o͠v̕e y̧͜o̸u͘r ͠c̀͝om͞m̢̕͟i̛҉͠t̀͏me̢̨n̛t̶̵͠.͟͢ Se̷c͢͏o̷͟n̢̢d̛l̢y̡,͟͟͟ ̴̛͘yǫu͡ ḿ̴̕u̧̧ś͠t҉ ̷͜m̧̛͘o͢vȩ́ ͏͠a͡͠t̷́ d͢o̧̧ú̡͝b̢l̀͝e͠-̡t̶̀i̢̛ḿ͘e̢, ̀t̴̶o̢͢ ̧̨p̴̡̕ro̶͢ve̷͟ ͜y̷o̢u͏r̢ ̡̢͟w̸it.̵ ̧T͢h̢͢͡i̸̡̨r͜dl̨̛͏y͞, ̨͏͘yo͞u͘͠ ̴͡m̷̸̡u̧͘͟s̴̴͘ţ ͞n̕e͝͡ve̴r ̨m̴̕͡i͜͝s̵̛̕ş̕ ̵͜a̸ ̢͜b̷e̵̛a͏͏̛t̕,̧̛͠ ̛t͜͝o ̶͜p̕͜ro͡ve̕҉ ͝͞yo͡u͝͞r͢ ̨co͞ns̶i͝śt͠en̴c͡y͘.̨͏ ̛͢F̀͝o̵ur̶̨t͘h̴͝͡l҉͞y҉,̢́͟ ̡͝y̡o͠u̴̶ ̶̷m̴̛ừ͞ś̛t ̷̵̕ǹ͜͞o̡͢t̵̕ ̵͝͡t̷̶͡ak̡e͠ ́ę̴̵v͏en ͝a͘͏ ͜si̷̧n̛͢g̷̢l̢̕͟ę͟҉ ̧҉͡h͞͏it͞,̴̴ ̸̡͞t͡҉o͘͜ ͞p҉̢r̕͟͞o͡v̧e ́y̛o̢u̴r̷͝ ̡̕͟ì̧͢n̴͠f̷̷a̧͘̕l̛͠l̸̶ib̴͏l̸͢͢e ͟şpi̢r̛i͏́͢t͘͢.̴̶̕ Ĺ̶̷a̛st̸̨l̸̡͠y,̴̛͟ ̡yo̴u m̶̡̀u͢͟şt͡ ̛n̷͠҉o̡̨t̢͠ ̷t̴o̧u̢c̴͜h̸̷͜ ̵e̶v́͡en ͏̨̀a̶͢ ̨̕s͏i̴n͜g͘l̵e͟͠ p͜ie̕ce ̵̨òf̢͘ ͘͝ǵ͟o͏l͏d̸̡͞, ̵̸̶t́o̡҉ ҉p̴ŕov̧e͢͝ ̨̕͘y͏̡ou̸̕r̡ ̀a͢͢͝b҉h͝͏̛o̴͢͠r̸̢r̷͝é́͠n̨͜ce ̷̵̧of҉̀ ̵͢a͢͟͞v̵͘͞a̕r̴̨҉i͘ç͘e̕.̶͞ ̨C̀o̡҉̸m̷p̕͢l̀e̕t̷̀e̶̸̕ ̡͏t͏̸h́͡ì͜ş̴, ̛ą͏ń̡d̛́ ̛͞y͞ou͟r̕͏̕ ̧c͏͡u̵͏r̷s͡͏e̷̸ s̴͡h͠a̧l̸l̷ ̕͠b̛͜͞e̵͘ l̢̨i̷f̨͞t̸ed̵́͠.̵͞҉ F̨́á̸͘i͏l͜, ̀a͝͏͏n̛͏̷d̵ ̛y̡̧ou͘ ͡s͏ha̸͝l̡l̵ ̧͏͏r͡e̴̴̴tur̸ǹ̴ ́͜͜to̶ ̶ţ͢h̢͢͡è̀ ͞͠b͏eg͟͟͞i̵n̷͞n̛i̧n̶ǵ́͝.̡̕ ̨͘͝P̸͢͝r̀͜ơv͟͜͢é͏ ͏yơ҉͡ur̵͜s҉è́͢l̶̀f̶,͞ ̡̢ĺe̛͝s͘t́ ̶͜͠t҉h̵̛i͞͝s̴̵͘ bé͞c̡͘͘ó̴m͠ę̵ ̶͜͝you͠r̛̛ S͝ìs͟yph̡͜è͜a̶̴n̕͠ ͜n̸͏í̶g̡͜h̴t̡͟m҉̵ar̷̢͡e͞.͜”

With that, the robed figures disappeared in another flash of lightning, leaving Milk alone. This would be it; the final judgement for Milk. They could not imagine spending an eternity down here, and they would sooner be killed ten thousand times before giving up. The infernal beat of the Crypt returned, and Milk faced it with determination.

With that, I’ve said all I want to about this dumb mod. Enjoy!


Did Milk just nod at a phone?


I don’t know that Milk has any sound producing orifices, so yes. :wink:

That looks great, good work!

I guess the milk carton could control the amount and force of air going down the straw - allowing it to ‘bubble in the affirmative’.

fuck i dunno.


Very cool! Also very fitting considering the Milk Carton’s eternal bobbing. Good work!

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