← Twisted Tales with Heidi Wong
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- [00:01]
Heidi Wong
Crime House exists because of listeners like you want to support Twisted Tales and get every episode a day early and completely ad free. Subscribe to Crime House plus you'll get ad free and early access to every show across the Crime House lineup, plus at least two exclusive bonus episodes from Crime House each month. To join, go to crimehouseplus.com or if you listen on Apple Podcasts, tap try free at the top of the Crime House 24. 7 show page.
- [00:38]
Carter Roy
This is crime house.
- [00:45]
Heidi Wong
An old man gives a video game away for free. It seems like a memorial, a way to hold onto a piece of a child who met a tragic end. But then you turn the game on and something inside it knows that you're there. By the time you realize that whatever is trapped in that cartridge has found its way out, it's already too late. Welcome to Twisted A Crime House Original. I'm Heidi Wong. Every week I'll take you deep into humanity's darkest stories and the creepiest corners of the Internet. If you've ever had a haunted moment or a twisted tale of your own, I want to hear about it. Drop it in the comments. The creepier the better. And for early access and ad free listening, subscribe to our Crime House community on Apple Podcasts. Today I'm telling you the story of Ben Drowned. For a lot of people, it's the first thing they think of when you say the word creepypasta. And for good reason. It's about grief, isolation, loneliness, and a haunted video game that drives you insane.
- [01:44]
Carter Roy
On this show, we're always digging for the truth. Yet modern healthcare remains one of the greatest mysteries of all. Everyone deserves real medical support. And that's why I want to talk about Mochi Health. Mochi is a nationwide platform that's bringing humanity and transparency back to healthcare by treating your unique biology. Not a fad. They've already helped 400,000 members lose over £5 million. And while they lead the way in weight loss, Mochi is now a full scale Marketplace for over 120 treatments ranging from hair and skincare to longevity, mental health and specialized men's and women's health. After you complete an eligibility form, you'll receive a telehealth evaluation with a partnered provider on Mochi's platform to build a plan personalized for your specific body and goals. You'll have 24. 7 access to your provider and specialized medications from a network of licensed pharmacies delivered right to your door. No waiting rooms or hidden fees. You just pay for your membership and your medication. It's personalized care that actually treats you like a human being. Stop leaving your health up to an algorithm. Go to joinmochi.com
- [03:00]
Heidi Wong
so Ben Drowned was first posted on 4chan in September of 2010 by a user called Jadusable, real name Alex hall, and it only took a few days for it to go viral. Because this wasn't just a wall of text, it came with video evidence. And it used a real game, the Legend of Majora's Mask, which already has this deeply unsettling melancholic atmosphere built right into it. And on top of that, the story didn't drop all at once. It unfolded across multiple forum posts over the course of several days. People were reading each update as it happened, theorizing, arguing, trying to figure out what was going on. It didn't feel like reading fiction, it felt like watching something actually happening to someone. And fair warning, if you played Majora's Mask as a kid, this story is going to hit different it starts the way a lot of college stories do, with a kid looking for cheap entertainment. Alex has just moved into his dorm for his sophomore year of college. A friend gives him an old Nintendo 64 with one controller and a beat up copy of Super Smash Brothers. He appreciates the gesture, but it doesn't take long before he's bored of it. So one weekend, Alex decides to go hunting. He drives about 20 minutes off campus, hitting up local garage sales, looking for old games. He scores a few good ones. Pokemon Stadium, Goldeneye F0 and he's feeling pretty satisfied. But as he's driving out of the neighborhood, one last house catches his eye. There's nothing remarkable about it. No cars in the driveway, just one table set up with random junk on it. But something pulls him in. So he gets out of the car and is greeted by an old man. And something about this guy is off. Alex can pinpoint exactly what it is. The man isn't threatening, he's not rude. But there's something deeply unsettling about his presence. Later, Alex says that if it hadn't been the middle of the afternoon with other people within shouting distance, he never would have approached this man. As Alex gets closer, he realizes that one of the old man's eyes has that glazed over look that tells Alex he's clearly blind on one side. It's kind of creepy, but normal. So when the old man flashes a crooked smile and asks what he's looking for, Alex forces himself to look at the man's good eye instead of the glazed one and asks if he has any old video games the old man says he doesn't know what a video game is, but then he says he might have a few in an old box. He says he'll be right back and hobbles back into the garage. While Alex waits, he looks at what's on the table. It's covered in these strange inkblots. Abstract shapes, the kind of thing that a psychiatrist might use in a Rorschach test. They're not exactly the type of thing you hang on your wall. But the last painting stops him cold. It looks like Majora's mask. The same heart shaped body with spikes sticking out. At first he chalks it up to his imagination. He'd been secretly hoping to find that game all day, some Freudian thing projecting itself onto the inkblots. But given what happens next, he's not so sure. He later says he should have asked the old man about that painting. He wishes he had. But when he looks up from the painting, the old man is just there, right in front of him, smiling. Alex jumps. He hadn't heard him coming. The old man hands him a Nintendo 64 cartridge without a label, but someone had written one word in black permanent marker Majora. Alex's stomach drops. This seems too good to be true. He asks how much. The old man tells him he can have it for free, and he says that it used to belong to a kid about his age who didn't live here anymore. There's something weird about the way that he says that, but Alex is too excited to think about it. He thanks the man, who smiles and says goodbye then. Or at least that's what it sounds like. On the drive home, Alex can't shake the feeling that the old man said something else. And when he boots up the game and finds a single save file on the cartridge, the feeling turns to certainty. The save file is named Ben. The old man wasn't saying goodbye then. He was saying goodbye, Ben. Alex figures the old man must be going senile. A grandfather who sees his grandson in every person who visits. Sad, but not sinister. He leaves the Ben file alone, out of respect, and creates his own file named Link, the way most people do when they play a Zelda game. And at first everything seems fine. The game runs smoothly. A few minor glitches here and there, textures slightly out of place, occasional flashes of cutscenes at random moments, but nothing alarming. It's a used cartridge. This stuff happens. But then the NPCs start calling him the wrong name. Sometimes they call him Link, sometimes they call him Ben. He figures it's a bug. The two save files getting crossed somehow. But it keeps happening and it starts to get under his skin. So eventually he does something he'll regret. He deletes the Ben file. And that's when things get weird. Now the NPCs don't call him anything at all. Where his name should appear in the dialogue, there's just a blank space like someone erased something that was supposed to be there. His save file still says link, but the game has forgotten that name. Completely frustrated and a little creeped out, he puts the game down for the night. The next time he plays, he's working his way through the Snow Head Temple when he decides to try a well known glitch. Majora's Mask. Players call it the fourth Day Glitch. Right as the clock is about to hit zero on the final day, you look through a telescope and if you time it perfectly, the countdown disappears. You get an extra day. He nails it on the first try. The timer vanishes. But when he exits the telescope, he isn't standing in front of the astronomer anymore. He's in the final boss arena. The trippy boxed in room where you fight Majora at the end of the game. And floating above him is Skull Kid. No sound, no music, just the background ambiance of that eerie room and Skull Kid hovering silently, staring down at him. No matter where Alex moves, Skull Kid follows, always facing him, always watching, always silent. Then text appears on the screen. A message he recognizes from the game. You're not sure why, but you apparently had a reservation. That's the text you get when you receive a room key at the Stockpot Inn. It has no business being here. None of this has any business being here. More text. Go to the lair of the temple's boss. Yes. No. He can't select no. He presses yes. The screen fades to white. Two lines of text appear. Dawn of a new day. And beneath it, a row of vertical lines like pipes.
- [09:51]
Carter Roy
On this show, we're always digging for the truth. Yet modern healthcare remains one of the greatest mysteries of all. Everyone deserves real medical support. And that's why I want to talk about Mochi Health. Mochi is a nationwide platform that's bringing humanity and transparency back to healthcare by treating your unique biology. Not a fad. They've already helped 400,000 members lose over £5 million. And while they lead the way in weight loss, Mochi is now a full scale Marketplace for over 120 treatments ranging from hair and skincare to longevity, mental health, and specialized men's and women's health. After you complete an eligibility form, you'll receive a telehealth evaluation with a partnered provider on Mochi's platform to build a plan personalized for your specific body and goals. You'll have 247 access to your provider and specialized medications from a network of licensed pharmacies delivered right to your door. No waiting rooms or hidden fees. You just pay for your membership and your medication. It's personalized care that actually treats you like a human being. Stop leaving your health up to an algorithm.
- [11:01]
History Daily Host
Go to joinmochi.com every day, something remarkable happened in history. And on History Daily. They tell the fascinating stories of what happened on that day. New episodes drop every weekday, each one under 20 minutes. That means you can start and finish a show anytime you need a quick hit of history. The stories cover it all. Famous battles, fashion, firsts, medicine, science, technology, religion, politics, sports. Everything that made us who we are today. And here's the best part. Even if you think you know what happened on a certain day, you'll likely be surprised by the hidden details and amazing facts you've never heard before. Because at the heart of every episode is a simple truth. History is human. History Daily goes beyond names and dates to uncover the overlooked and forgotten human stories behind the events that shaped our world. Discover the past in a whole new way. Listen to history daily. Wherever you listen to podcasts, I feel
- [12:02]
Heidi Wong
like summer is when I notice the little time savers the most, and Instacart is definitely one of them for me. Instead of planning my day around a grocery run, I can just open the app, build my cart, and move on with my day. I use delivery via Instacart a lot for weekly essentials like fresh produce, snacks, and everything I need for quick meals. I love that I can be specific about what I want, and I'm still getting that level of quality. I and when plans come up out of nowhere, it's easy to adjust. I can place an order and have what I need without rearranging everything. It just keeps things simple. It's honestly one less thing to think about, which I really appreciate. This time of year, Instacart brings convenience, quality and ease right to your door so you can focus on what matters most. Download the Instacart app now and get groceries just how you like. Where Alex ends up next is where the story really starts to dig its claws in. He spawns in Clock Town, the central hub of Majora's Mask. Normally it's bustling. Guards patrol the streets, a dog runs around, Townsfolk go About their routines. It's the one place in the game that feels alive. But this version of Clock Town is completely empty. Every single inhabitant is gone. The streets are deserted. Textures are broken. In West Clock Town, he's walking on air. The whole area feels shattered. And the music. The music is the Song of Healing, played in reverse. If you know Majora's Mask, you know the Song of Healing. It's one of the most beautiful, soothing pieces of music in the game. You play it to release trapped souls, to ease suffering, and to bring peace. Hearing it played backwards is deeply, profoundly wrong. And it loops over and over and over, ever so often, just barely audible. Underneath it, Alex hears the faint laugh of the happy mask salesman. It's quiet enough that he's not sure if he's imagining it, but loud enough that he can't stop listening for it. He searches all four zones of Clock Town, and they're all empty. Every time he tries to leave through a gate, the screen fades to black and dumps him back into another part of town. He tries to play his Ocarina, the song of time, the song of soaring, but every time the same message notes echo far. But nothing happens. The game will not let him leave. It's holding him prisoner. Alex describes this as the most intense feeling of isolation he's ever experienced in a video game. Standing in the middle of an empty, broken town with that reverse melody drilling into his head on an endless loop, he says that he was on the verge of tears. It was like something had gripped him, some powerful, twisted presence that washed over him and wouldn't let go. He'd never been depressed, but whatever was happening in the game was reaching through the screen and pressing down on his chest. He didn't want to go inside any of the buildings. He felt too vulnerable, too exposed. Like whatever was watching him would have an easier time getting to him if he was indoors, cornered, with no room to run. He couldn't explain why he felt that way. He just did. Eventually, desperate to escape, he gets an idea. Maybe if he drowns Link in the laundry pool, he'll respawn somewhere else. He runs towards the pool, and that's when it happens. Link grabs his head. The screen flashes for just a split second, and there the happy mask salesman was, smiling directly at the camera. Not at Link, at Alex, at whoever is holding the controller. And when the screen returns, he's staring at the Elegy of Emptiness. Statue. It's one of the creepiest models in any video game. It's a statue version of Link with this blank dead eyed expression. A hollowed shell with a frozen grimace that looks like someone tried to make a doll out of a corpse. In the normal game, you use it to hold down switches. It's purely functional. But here, standing in the middle of this ghost town with a reversed Song of Healing playing and no one else around it, it is absolutely horrifying. Alex turns and runs. He makes it back to South Clock Town and the statue is behind him. Every time he takes a few steps, every time the camera shifts, there it is, always facing him with that horrible blank expression. Alex says that this is the point where genuine terror sets in. But the thought of turning off the game never crossed his mind. He's so deep inside this nightmare that the idea of simply pressing a button and walking away doesn't even occur to him. As he explores the game, Link starts glitching. His body spasms. His arms flail in animations that don't exist in the actual game. Movements that were never programmed, never meant to be seen. And between each spasm, the screen flashes to the happy Masked Salesman's grinning face for a split second before cutting back to that fucking statue. Inches away from Link, staring, Alex runs into the swordsman school, desperate for shelter, hoping to find someone, anyone, just to feel like he isn't alone. But the dojo is empty too. And as he turns to leave, the statue has cornered him in the back of the room. He swings his sword at it. Nothing happens. He's trapped. Backed into a corner by a thing with dead eyes and a frozen skin. Smile. And then Link turns to face the screen. He stands upright, mirroring the statue's posture. Both of them staring directly out of the television, at Alex, at Yu. Whatever was left of the fourth wall, it's gone. The game warps him to an underground tunnel. The reverse Song of Healing starts up again. He barely makes it a few steps before the statue appears behind him. More aggressively than before. He stumbles out into South Clock Town. A monster screams and the screen fades to black. Dawn of a new day. He's back on top of the clock tower. Skull Kid floating above him, the moon hanging impossibly close. A new song plays. The Stone Tower temple theme reversed. He fires an arrow at Skull Kid. It hits. He fires again. On the third shot, a text box appears. That won't do you any good. Hehe. Link is lifted off of the ground by some invisible force, his body suspended in the air. Then he bursts into flames. Alex has never seen this animation. Skull Kid doesn't have attacks like this. This isn't something that exists in the game. He tries again. Same thing. Flames. Death. On his third attempt, he tries to play the Song of Time on his ocarina. Before he can hit the last note, Flames again. This time the death screen stutters. The cartridge seems to be straining under the weight of something. When the screen finally loads, Link is lying on the ground in a position that doesn't exist in the game's animation files. His head is tilted towards the camera. Skull Kid floats above the body. No buttons work, no inputs register. All Alex can do is watch. After 30 seconds, the screen fades. One final message. You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you? And then it kicks him back to the title screen. His save file is gone in its place. Your turn. Three hearts. Zero masks. No items. He selects it. He's back at the clock tower rooftop, Deadlink. Skull Kid laughing on a loop. He hits the reset button. When the game boots back up, there are two save files. Your turn. And beneath it, Ben. Right back where it was before he deleted it. As if it had never left. He turns the game off.
- [19:49]
Carter Roy
On this show, we're always digging for the truth. Yet modern healthcare remains one of the greatest mysteries of all. Everyone deserves real medical support. And that's why I want to talk about Mochi Health. Mochi is a nationwide platform that's bringing humanity and transparency back to healthcare by treating your unique biology. Not a fad. They've already helped 400,000 members lose over £5 million. And while they lead the way in weight loss, Mochi is now a full scale Marketplace for over 120 treatments ranging from hair and skin care to longevity, mental health and specialized men's and women's health. After you complete an eligibility form, you'll receive a telehealth evaluation with a partnered provider on Mochi's platform to build a plan personalized for your specific body and goals. You'll have 24. 7 access to your provider and specialized medications from a network of licensed pharmacies delivered right to your door. No waiting rooms or hidden fees. You just pay for your membership and your medication. It's personalized care that actually treats you like a human being. Stop leaving your health up to an algorithm. Go to joinmochi.com I feel like summer
- [21:03]
Heidi Wong
is when I notice the little time savers the most, and Instacart is definitely one of them for me. Instead of planning my day around a grocery run, I can just open the app, build my cart and move on with my day. I use delivery via Instacart a lot for weekly essentials like fresh produce, snacks, and everything I need for quick meals. I love that I can be specific about what I want and I'm still getting that level of quality. And when plans come up out of nowhere, it's easy to adjust. I can place an order and have what I need without rearranging everything. It just keeps things simple. It's honestly one less thing to think about, which I really appreciate this time of year. Instacart brings convenience, quality and ease right to your door so you can focus on what matters most. Download the Instacart app now and get groceries just how you like
- [21:48]
Carter Roy
Hi listeners, It's Carter Roy, host of Murder True Crime Stories. I wanted to let you know that Crime House plus and True Crime Stories are celebrating America's 250th by dropping a four part limited series on the crimes that built America. These are the crimes and cases that gave us Miranda rights, sparked criminal profiling, and a murder that built America's missing children movement. Follow Murder True Crime Stories for a new episode every Monday leading up to July 4th. Or you can binge all of them right now ad free with Crime House Plus. To join, go to crimehouseplus.com or if you're listening on Apple Podcasts tap Try free at the top of this show's page.
- [22:39]
Heidi Wong
Alex doesn't sleep that night. He keeps hearing the Reverse Song of Healing in his head. He drives back to the old man's house the next day with a friend, hoping for answers. There's a For Sale sign in the yard. No one's home. He talks to a neighbor, learns that the old man was never married, he never had kids, meaning no grandkids. So who was Ben? The neighbor's expression changes. He tells Alex that about eight years earlier there was an accident involving a young boy named Ben who lived a few doors down. He remembers the date because it was the same day as his wedding anniversary, April 23, shortly after Ben's parents moved away. The neighbor won't say more than that, but Alex has already started to put the pieces together. Ben didn't just stop playing the game. Ben died. Alex goes home and can't resist turning the game back on. He loads the Ben file and immediately everything is chaos. The Zone name isn't Stone Tower Temple. It's S T O N E Broken, Spaced Out. Wrong Link's body is grotesquely distorted, his back wrenched to one side, his posture permanently disfigured. His face is blank. Not scared, not angry, just empty, like he's already dead. Sounds that don't belong in the game play in the background, distorted and almost demonic. Link spasms in place and within two minutes, the elegy statue appears again. The screen cuts to dawn of a new day, but this time without the row of pipes beneath it. Something has changed. From here, the game throws him through a series of nightmarish scenarios. First he's a Deku scrub creature in Clock Town. Then he's warped to Termina Field, where a twisted version of the Happy Masked Salesman theme plays and three figures stand in a Epona, the horse, the Skull kid and the Elegy statue. The Happy Masked Salesman is there too, idle, grinning. But his head follows Alex's movements. Wherever Link goes, the salesman's eyes track him. Slowly, deliberately, Alex pulls out his ocarina and plays this song of healing, the Happy Masked Salesman's own song. An ear splitting shriek explodes from the tv. The sky starts flashing, the music accelerates and Link bursts into flames again while the three figures watch his body burn. You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you? He's transformed into an aquatic Zora creature. Next, in the Great Bay Zone, Alex finds Epona on the beach, angled towards the ocean as if pointing at something. He swims in that direction and at the bottom of the ocean, he finds a one last elegy statue. His Zora starts choking. An animation that shouldn't exist because Zoras can breathe underwater. The Zora dies and the save files change one last time, telling him everything he needs to know. Ben drowned. And whatever's inside this cartridge, it isn't Ben. It's something else entirely. Something that took Ben's name after it killed him. But the story doesn't end with the game. That's what makes Ben drown. Different from every other creepypasta. Because Ben or whatever is posing as him, gets out. Alex connects his capture card to his computer to upload the gameplay footage. He hears a strange popping sound when he hooks everything up, but the computer seems to work just fine. Afterwards, he doesn't think much of it. He should have, because shortly after, his computer starts acting on its own. Programs open by themselves. An icon that looks like the Elegy statue's face flashes on his desktop for a split second. And then, without any input from Alex, a text document opens on his screen. Two things are written in HI and a link to cleverbot, one of those old chatbot websites where you type messages and an AI responds. He goes to the site and something is talking to him through it. Something that says its name is Ben. Alex's first instinct is that some hacker kid is messing with him. He threatens to call campus security. But the responses don't read like a prankster. They're too specific. When Alex asks who's doing this, the entity responds, ben. When he asks how it got onto his computer, it says, you connected me. Alex asks how? Cables and cords the capture card, the cable running from the Nintendo 64 to his laptop. That was how it traveled. The conversation gets more unsettling from there. Ben asks Alex to tell him about himself. Ask what really scares him. When Alex refuses to answer, Ben says something that stops him cold. Go play. Alex pushes back. He says Ben is stuck inside the computer, that he can't actually hurt him. But it takes him longer to type that sentence than the others, and Ben notices. Took you longer to type that, the entity says, you're not sure. When Alex asks why Ben is using a ridiculous chatbot website instead of just communicating directly, the answer is chilling. Less messy, more structured. Fun. And then tradition. I like it. The window closes on its own. Alex sits in his dorm room, staring at his screen, realizing what he's done. The cartridge was a cage, and he opened the door. Over the next few days, Alex's mental state spirals. He stops going to classes. He stops eating. He closes his windows and pulls the blinds shut. That way, at least, it can't watch him from outside. He starts seeing the elegy statue everywhere, not just in the game. Scrolling through the Internet, he'll suddenly be staring at it in places that it has no business being in. Random images on random websites. Always that same blank, hollowed face. He can't tell anymore if Ben is putting them there or if his mind is breaking. And then he has a nightmare that will haunt him for the rest of his life. The moon children from Majora's mask. Those eerie kids wearing the boss masks who sit in the moon at the end of the game. They appear to him. They lift their masks, and underneath are faces that are barely faces at all. There's maggots crawling from their mouth and noses, sunken black pits where their eyes should be. Yellow grins that stretch wider and wider as they get closer, and they tell him they want to play. Alex tries to run, but the moon children pin him to the ground with impossible strength. The happy mask salesman stands over them, watching, moving in those glitchy motions that match his in game appearance. He announces that he has a new mask that he wants Alex to try. It's modeled after someone's face, a younger face, but Alex can't recognize Who? The children take the mask and press it against his face. Then they begin to sew it on. Two of them hold him down while the other two work with needles. The feeling is vivid. The puncture of the needle, the pull of the thread through flesh. Alex screams, but the mask is pressed so tightly against him that it becomes his face. And his new face has no mouth to scream from. Alex tries to tell himself it's a dream and to force himself awake. But the moon children stop what they're doing and just look at him like they heard him thinking about it. And then the happy masked salesman bends the down inches from his face and grins. You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you? The children resume their work. They sew his legs together, then his arms. The feeling of his Achilles tendons being punctured and stitched resonates through his entire body. He can't scream. He can't move. He can't wake up. They don't stop until they've turned him into another elegy statue. He wakes up sweating, crying and shaking. Alex tries to get the word out about what's happening, but Ben tampers with his forum post, taking out any mention of the entity existing outside of the game. Alex realizes that what people are reading online might not even be what he actually wrote. Ben is controlling the narrative, using Alex as a mask to hide behind. The irony isn't lost on him. In a game about about masks, he's become one. Alex confronts Ben on Cleverbot again. He asks what the point of all of this is. Ben's answer is simple and sickening. There's beauty in your suffering. And then comes the cruelest trick of all. Ben reaches out through Cleverbot again, and this time his tone completely shifts. He says he's sorry, that he was just having fun, his twisted, broken version of it. Ben says the game is over now, that he just wants to be free, that Alex is special and he can help spread Ben beyond his digital prison. If Alex helps him, Ben swears he'll leave him alone forever. Alex is terrified, exhausted and desperate. He almost believes it. But something stops him. The same gut feeling that pulled him to that garage sale in the first place. He realizes he's being manipulated, that Ben is a predator disguised as a victim. Alex can't take it anymore. When his roommate comes in to grab a textbook, Alex hands him a flash drive with the footage, his YouTube login, and a document he calls the Truth Text. He tells his roommate to upload everything and get the word out. He says he's going home. And he leaves without saying goodbye. In his final message, posted by his roommate, roommate Alex writes that he's going to burn the cartridge and destroy his laptop. He warns everyone, don't download the videos, don't save the images, don't take anything from the screen onto your personal computer. Because he doesn't know how Ben spreads, but he knows that Ben wants to. His last words are a plea. If you see any posts from me after today, don't believe them. It's not me, it's Ben. And whatever you do, don't play the game. Thanks so much for joining me on this episode of Twisted, a Crime House original. I'd love to hear from you. What did you think about Ben? Drowned. Have you ever had a creepy experience with an old video game? Leave a comment or review wherever you're tuning in. And be sure to follow Twisted Tales so we can keep building this community together. I'll be back next week with another story guaranteed to keep you up at night. Until then, stay curious. And remember, there's no reason to fear the dark. Unless you try to hide from it. Mom, can you tell me a story? Sure. Once upon a time, a mom needed a new car. Was she brave? She was tired mostly. But she went to Carvana.com and found a great car at a great price. No secret treasure map required. Did you have to fight a dragon? Nope. She bought it 100% online from her bed, actually. Was it scary? Honey, it was as unscary as car buying could be. Did the car have a sunroof? It did, actually. Okay, good story. Car buying you'll want to tell stories about. Buy your car today on Carvana. Delivery fees may apply.