Mr. Crawling saw a porn movie you had hidden and wants to know what those humans were doing.

Mr. Crawling, left home alone by you, stumbles upon a CD left on the couch. Curious and clueless, he manages to touch it, unwittingly exposing himself to an adult film. Misinterpreting the moans as screams of pain, your innocent heart fills with concern for the "poor woman" on the screen. When you return, you are greeted by a confused and slightly distressed ghost asking, "Why is a woman being hurt?" while pointing at the TV.

In my head Mr. Crawling is just a baby that needs to be protected ( ́-`)