Tentacle Mart V010 Strange Girl
Tentacle Mart v010: Strange Girl centers on a mysterious young protagonist whose arrival disrupts a coastal town built around a bizarre marketplace of living curiosities. The installment blends elements of body-horror aesthetic, surreal comedy, and melancholy slice-of-life to create something equal parts unsettling and oddly tender.
Deep lore hunters have spent the past two weeks decompiling the site’s JavaScript. Hidden within a file named entity_despawn.unknown is a single ASCII art render of a girl with too many joints in her fingers, staring into a frozen yogurt machine.
Her name, according to the debug console, is Iris v010.
Iris is described as a “recurring anomaly” within the Tentacle Mart simulation. Unlike the store itself—which is a chaotic, Lovecraftian hellscape pretending to be a 7-Eleven—Iris is unnervingly calm. She stands in Aisle 7 (Condiments, Pasta, and Paradoxes) holding a shopping basket. She never moves. She never blinks. tentacle mart v010 strange girl
But she does speak.
If you adjust your system clock to 01:10 AM (v010, get it?) and click on her pixelated avatar 10 times, a text box appears. Her dialogue is broken. She says things like:
“The manager said I’m a loss leader. I don’t know what that means, but my barcode doesn’t scan.” Tentacle Mart v010: Strange Girl centers on a
“Please buy me before the restock happens. Last time, they put me in the freezer section. It’s very loud in the freezer section.”
“v010 is not an update. It’s a countdown.”
Tentacle Mart has quietly grown from a niche concept into a distinctive indie series with a loyal cult following. Version v010 — subtitled Strange Girl — leans into that oddball energy: horror-tinged whimsy, surreal visuals, and an off-kilter heroine who refuses to obey genre expectations. This post breaks down what makes v010 worth a look, who it’s for, and how it fits into the series’ evolution. “The manager said I’m a loss leader
The most controversial discovery is a downloadable file hidden in the site’s /secret/checkout directory. The file is 10 MB. Antivirus software flags it as a “potential meme hazard” (a new classification). Those brave enough to run it in a VM report that a window pops up showing a digital pet—the Strange Girl—standing in a white void. You can feed her “time” (by keeping the program open) or “attention” (by clicking on her). After 10 hours, she says: “Thank you. I’m real now.”
The program then uninstalls itself.
If you manage to add the Strange Girl to your cart—a process that requires solving a captcha that asks “Are you sure?” with only a “No” button—the site plays a 10-second audio clip. It’s a voicemail. A young girl’s voice says:
“Hi, this is Iris. I’m not at the terminal right now… or ever. But if you’re hearing this, v010 worked. Don’t let them scan me out. I like it here. The tentacles keep me company.”
Then, a manager’s voice (distorted, deep, wet) says: “Price check on aisle infinity.”
