★★★☆☆ - Stud Finder Product Review
Product reviews from the DarkWeb (B-Side #7)
Years back, people began posting reviews on Amazon about how the Three Wolf Moon t-shirt changed their lives. This is a review like that, except it changed his life in a different way. He only gave it three stars.
I recently purchased [COMPANY NAME REDACTED]’s 4-in-1 Deep Scanner Wall Multifunction Tool. Until now, I’ve never felt the need to write a review about a product, but this time, well, I’m scratching my head on what to do next.
I purchased the stud finder because the wife had some things she needed hanging - picture frames, knick-knacks, and this huge relief sculpture that almost threw my back out when I carried it down to the basement. I wasn’t putting off completing this little honey-do list; it was just never a priority. Things pop up, bigger fixes need fixing, and we never go in the basement anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s going to notice the bare walls or the stack of assorted whatnots piled in the corner.
When she went down to swap out the seasonal decorations from the storage room and found everything still sitting in a pile, she demanded that I hang everything that night. I did most of it, but being the craftsman that I am, I wouldn’t hang the heavier items unless the supports were nailed into a wall stud. Do the job once, and do it right, I always say. This led me to your website in search of a quality stud finder to get this honey-do list honey-done.
My order arrived within a day of placing it. Now that I think about it, it didn’t even take a full day. I woke up to the chime of the doorbell camera sometime after 3 a.m. I expected it was those Lawson boys teepeeing our trees again, but when I got down there, I found the Scanner waiting in an exquisite ebony box. I didn’t hear a delivery truck, so I can only assume you’ve converted your fleet to electric. It was whisper quiet. Like literally, I could hear the faint whispers all around me as I picked up the package from the stoop.
I was pleased to find that the Scanner came with a protective case. I also appreciated that the packaging was made from 98% recycled materials, even though the primary material listed was skin. This has no impact on the product’s performance, but, like your electric delivery fleet, it’s a nice touch to know I’m purchasing from a company that cares about the same issues I do.
My wife came downstairs while I was unboxing, wondering what all the commotion was. I turned and showed her the Scanner, putting it on my chest. “This thing’s broken, there’s a stud right here!” That’s usually good for a laugh, but at 3 a.m., she wasn’t much for jokes. Or perhaps she was unnerved by the high-pitched shriek when the device touched my skin.
(This leads to my first nitpick: lack of a volume control knob. I can’t be too upset since the Scanner came with batteries. That saved me from rummaging through the junk drawer for loose AAA’s.)
She went back to bed. I probably should have as well, but at that moment, I was compelled to go to the basement. I can’t quite explain it, but it was almost like the device was pulling me where it needed to go. It pulsed in my hand, throbbing like a beating heart. I hadn’t even touched it to the wall, and it was already leading me to the studs. Talk about craftsmanship!
Entering the basement led to my next issue with the Scanner. My dog Rufus had an adverse reaction to the waves, beams, or whatever electromagnetic energy the Scanner was emitting. When I pointed the Scanner at him, his barking took on a completely different tone, almost sounding like a human voice speaking a language that I didn’t understand. Like something you’d hear coming from one of those Norwegian Death Metal bands my nephew is always going on about. He also took a massive shit on the floor, rolling around in it until he was completely covered. The dog, not my nephew.
If this is expected, you might want to print this warning somewhere to avoid using it around dogs. Also, a small nitpick, printing the user manual in a language other than ancient Sumerian would be helpful.
I placed the Scanner on the wall where the wife wanted me to hang the relief sculpture that she bought on vacation in Honduras. I pressed the buttons on the side of the device and slid it against the wall as I watched the indicator. I was expecting an arrow, an X, or something when I landed on a stud, but instead the device vibrated wildly in my hand, which I took as a sign that what I was searching for was right there. I marked the wall and went to my toolbox to get my hammer. I picked it up and squeezed the handle tight in my fist. Even then, I knew it wasn’t for the wall.
Rufus knew it too.
He crawled over to me, still warbling out that awful bark that filled me both with dread and jubilation. I gave him one last scratch behind the ear. He sat before me, head lowered, a calm resignation as he awaited his blessing to become the first sacrifice. He was Bael’s chosen!
I’m pleased to say he didn’t suffer. One swing was all it took. Like I always say: do the job once, do it right.
I drained his blood, trying to get out as much as possible. I didn’t know how much I would need, as the instructions did not specify how much was required to generate a blood seal to bring forth the true King of Hell. I utilized a piece of bone from the hole in Rufus’s skull to draw the sigil. Sure, I could’ve used something else, maybe a pen or a dowel rod, but like [COMPANY NAME REDACTED], I prefer to recycle as much as possible.
My wife was not pleased when she found the mess that I had made. I don’t recall when she found me; time seemed to move differently now. From the light through the basement window, it had to be late morning when she came down to check on my progress.
She was, in a word, shocked.
She screamed almost as loudly as the Scanner had when I put it against my chest for my Stud Finder joke (that is never not funny). Between her screams and the guttural thrum of Black Mass reverberating over and over, wiggling like corpse-eating worms deeper into my brain, well, it’s enough to drive a man crazy.
At first, I wasn’t sure if she was screaming because of the bloody sigil on the wall or Rufus with his skull caved in. I got up to apologize for my “stereotypical male” behavior - fix one thing, leave an even bigger mess behind. As I was standing up, I felt the sting in my chest. That was when I remembered carving the symbol of Bael into my flesh with the ceremonial knife that I ordered via your mobile app (it arrived within minutes, kudos to your delivery team). I must’ve been a sight. Also, I had Rufus’s shit-caked skin draped over my naked body like a cape. I get cold sometimes; bad circulation runs in my family.
The Scanner vibrated on the floor in front of me. It was calm at first, but the vibrations grew more violent, the ground bouncing as if it were in the middle of an earthquake. The Unholy voices from within it chanted to me as it spun, pointing to my wife. It slid across the floor and stopped at her feet. The hands-free functionality was a nice, unexpected touch.
My wife wasn’t as thrilled by the Scanner’s unique abilities as I was. She ran screaming up the stairs, all frantic and fearful, clutching her crucifix as she recited the Lord’s Prayer. The Scanner followed, hopping up the stairs and clipping at her heels as she tried to escape. It was quite a sight.
The symbol carved in my chest tugged me in the direction of the Scanner, beckoning me to follow. I caught up to my wife on the top step. I tried to calm her and explain how her sacrifice would bring us one step closer to the return of the True King of Hell, but she seemed less thrilled by it than I was.
Turns out, what caused her to scream the loudest was the ceremonial knife in my hand. She would become the second sacrifice for Bael – one given willingly, one taken forcefully. Such is the balance of things. Both were necessary, and both will be rewarded for the blood they shed to forge the gateway for his return.
I spend most of my waking day in the basement now, seated on the floor next to the chair made from the bones of my sacrifices. I don’t dare sit in it, not because of concern over craftsmanship, but because it’s not my chair.
It’s HIS chair. Bael. My dark King. The one I serve.
This leads to my final nitpick. It’s been three weeks, and although I still hear the voices and whispers tearing at my brain when I stare into the symbol, I do not know what to do next in order to bring about his return. Is there an incantation? Do I need more sacrifices? I’m deep in the weeds on what to do. The lack of detailed instructions in a modern language is truly a shortsighted gaffe on the part of the product designers.
One thing I’ve noticed, when I put the Scanner on my chest now, instead of the high-pitched shriek from before, it thrums like a heartbeat and pulses one word in vibrant red letters: VESSEL. Including a troubleshooting guide that explains what all the symbols and messages mean would be immensely helpful.
Herein lies the quandary: without proper instructions, I can’t say for certain that the Scanner is working as expected. I have returned the extended warranty card in hopes that a translation of the operating instructions can be sent so I can complete the ritual. Until then, I can only give your product three stars.
I look forward to your response. Until then, I sit anointed and awaited by the bloodgate, eager to complete my Master’s summons.
Share this with someone who reads one-star reviews before buying anything.
It pays to take an Intro to Ancient Sumerian class in order to avoid scenarios like this one.