Alan Pace’s Daughter: The Internet’s Newest Cryptid?
Move over, Mothman. Step aside, Jersey Devil. There’s a new enigma lurking in the digital shadows, and her name is… well, nobody actually knows. Alan Pace’s daughter has become the internet’s latest obsession, a blurry screenshot of a human(?) that’s sparked more conspiracy theories than a UFO convention. Is she real? A glitch in the Matrix? A sentient pile of VPN ads? The web is divided, but one thing’s clear: she’s the cryptid we never knew we needed.
Sightings Reported in the Wild (aka Twitter Threads)
- “She appeared in the background of his LinkedIn post!” – User @ConspiracyCrunch, who definitely didn’t confuse a potted plant for a person.
- “I saw her blink in a YouTube video from 2017!” – Commenter “TruthSeeker42,” who later admitted it was just a buffering issue.
- “Her name is… probably… Emily? Maybe?” – Reddit user u/FactOrCap, who then deleted their account after being ratioed into oblivion.
Fan Theories: More Unhinged Than a Closet Door in a Haunted House
Is she Alan’s actual offspring, or just an AI-generated placeholder for his “family-friendly brand image”? Did she escape from a parallel universe where everyone communicates exclusively through TikTok duets? The theories range from “plausibly deranged” to “did you eat a whole bag of gummy worms before typing this?” Meanwhile, Alan Pace himself remains mysteriously silent—or, as normal people call it, “living his life offline like a wizard.”
Why Alan Pace’s Daughter is Probably a Time-Traveling Llama (And Other Conspiracy Theories)
Exhibit A: The Llama-Like Behavior (And Historical Footage)
Let’s start with the spit-take heard ‘round the world. Eyewitness accounts claim Alan’s daughter once projectile-vegetabled a kale smoothie at a paparazzo while muttering something about “the fall of the Inca Empire.” Coincidence? Unlikely. Llamas, as we know, were the backbone of Inca civilization—and notorious for their disdain of leafy greens. Plus, security footage from a 1923 speakeasy shows a suspiciously familiar-looking llama in a flapper dress, sipping gin and humming ”Sweet Child O’ Mine.” Time-traveler? Probably. Jazz enthusiast? Definitely.
Other Theories That *Almost* Make Sense (But Not Really)
- Alien-Hybrid Chess Prodigy: She once beat Stockfish in 3 moves using a strategy called “The Andromeda Gambit.” (Note: Stockfish denies this. Stockfish also denies being a sentient being.)
- Secret CEO of Big Socks™: Ever notice how every photo of her features mysteriously flawless anklewear? Wool blends don’t lie.
- Sentient Spreadsheet: Rumor has it she once auto-corrected “Netflix and chill” to “tax fraud seminar” in a group chat. Follow the formulas.
And let’s not forget the glitter incident of 2017, when an entire Costco parking lot was coated in iridescent dust. Forensics traced it to a single hairbrush—allegedly left behind by a “small, camelid-shaped entity” browsing the frozen taquitos aisle. The llama community has yet to comment, but their silence speaks volumes. Mostly in binary.
How to Summon Alan Pace’s Daughter: A Step-by-Step Guide (Disclaimer: May Involve Glitter and a Kazoo)
Step 1: Assemble the Essentials (Warning: Glitter Has No Mercy)
First, you’ll need a ritual kit consisting of:
- One kazoo (preferably neon, because subtlety is for amateurs)
- A 5-pound bag of glitter (biodegradable, unless you want to haunt the ecosystem)
- A Bluetooth speaker blasting 2000s pop punk (non-negotiable)
- A handwritten note that says “pls respond” in Comic Sans font
Pro tip: Wear goggles. Glitter is the sand of the craft world—it gets everywhere.
Step 2: Draw the Sacred Circle (Cereal Optional, But Encouraged)
Using the glitter, trace a circle on your floor. For best results, add a pentagram made of Froot Loops—this isn’t strictly necessary, but it *does* increase your chances of summoning a being who appreciates whimsy. Place the kazoo at the center and chant, *“By the power of vibes and questionable life choices, I summon thee!”* Blow the kazoo aggressively. If your neighbors don’t call the police, you’re not doing it right.
Step 3: Wait for the Glitterpocalypse
Sit cross-legged in the circle and wait. Signs the ritual is working include:
- A sudden gust of wind that only blows glitter into your eyes
- Your dog side-eyeing the void
- A faint echo of “I’m Here for the Chaos” by Halestorm
If none of this happens, repeat Step 2, but swap Froot Loops for Cheetos. Some entities are bribed by cheese dust. Results may vary.