Some people get a bit carried away with Christmas.
I’m not talking about the trees and lights and manger scenes in front lawns.
What I worry about is the carolers.
Some stick to the basics, like Silent Night.
They sing the song, shake the charity tipjar, and move along.
But others, well, they’ve fucking lost it.
One roaming chorus took We Wish You A Merry Christmas over the edge, threatening people with demands for figgy pudding.
Who the fuck keeps figgy pudding around anyway?
Is the wassail boiling yet?
Good. Open the door and I’ll toss it in their faces.
Tag: sick
Holiday Tradition
It’s a holiday tradition that the kids get to open a present on Christmas Eve and then the rest on Christmas Day.
It’s fun to watch them picking up and shaking the boxes, figuring out which to open first.
They’ve been asking for a puppy for years, but I didn’t think they were old enough for one.
Until now.
The box was in front of the others, and the puppy kept trying to get out, whining and barking.
They picked the box up, and shook it.
Hard. Really hard.
It stopped whining.
Silence.
Hrm. Maybe they’re not old enough yet.
Doctor Santa
Despite being a mad scientist, Doctor Odd did work in the community.
After all, every good community needs science, and every scientist needs lab assistants and test subjects.
Around Christmastime, he’d volunteer as Santa for the orphanage.
He’d ask every child what they wanted for Christmas.
Some wanted bicycles. Others wanted puppies.
Those he could do. Licensing his patents made him extremely rich, and he had Amazon Plus.
But most wanted a family.
That, he couldn’t help.
One girl in a wheelchair wanted to walk again, so he built her gigantic robotic legs.
Which stomped the bicycles and puppies flat.
Tinsel
Tinsel for decoration started off as shredded silver strands, but silver tarnishes quickly. And these days, it’s rather expensive.
So, people switched to copper, but wartime restrictions meant that people needed to use another metal.
That’s around when aluminum became cheap and easy to use, but aluminized paper is a fire hazard, and the lights on trees would heat up the paper and burn houses down.
Lead is nice and shiny. And toxic. It causes brain damage. But if your kid sucks on Christmas tree decorations and thinks some fat dude’s bringing presents, really, how much stupider can they get?
Trap
The adventuring party needed a thief to clear traps, but all that was available was a beginner named Lucky Lightfingers.
He wasn’t very lucky, though, and the priest grumbled displeasure at Lucky’s incompetence as he healed up the others.
The dwarf and the barbarian were tired of hauling each other out of pits full of spikes, too.
So, they clubbed the thief dead, and the priest raised him as a zombie.
For the rest of the dungeon, they ordered Lucky to set off tripwires, pressure-plates, and traps on every treasure chest.
They gave his share to his next of kin.
It’s In The Way That You Use It
“It’s not how long it is, but what you do with it.”
Stubby Malone’s penis was the shortest of anybody’s I knew, but what he did with it sure put other guys to shame.
Remember when he conducted the Chicago Symphony with it?
When his critics said “You’re just waving it around” he told the glockenspielist to step aside and, boy, did he shut those wags up!
Painting… fencing… picking locks… wrote a best-selling novel… there was nothing he couldn’t do.
Well, besides please a woman properly with it.
(Which is why he got so good with his tongue, too.)
Brother Theodore
Brother Theodore was very proud that knew the nine hundred and ninety-nine names of God.
“God has one thousand names,” said the Abbot. “Recite them now for me.”
Theodore tried, but he could not remember the thousandth name.
As punishment, he was strapped to a table, and for the next five days, as he was forced to the recite them once again, and the names of God were burned into his skin.
Until… he stopped.
“And the thousandth?” asked the Abbot.
Theodore tried, but he couldn’t remember.
The one he forgot was branded on to the tip of his tongue.
Blades
The first blade lifts the hair pulling it slightly from the skin.
The second bade tugs it a bit further, just because it can.
The third blade runs right up to the hair, and at the very last moment, backs off. Because it can.
The fourth blade is too good for the hair. Won’t have anything to do with it.
The fifth blade pushes the hair back in, acts like it’s the hair’s friend, these other blades want to do bad things to you, stick with me, you’ll be fine.
The sixth blade cuts the hair off.
The seventh laughs.
Merv
Unlike the rest of the Royals, The Duke of Mervin’s Gate was a down-to-earth kinda guy.
Some called him Duke, others called him Merv. He was cool with either.
His family wasn’t.
So, he bummed around in the kitchen, watching chefs prepare meals and feasts.
He asked if he could help, and after a few weeks of learning, he had his own toque and knives.
Pretty soon, all the meals were prepared by him. And they were delicious.
And laced with a slow-acting poison.
Oh, the tragedy.
Some called him King, others called him Merv. He was cool with either.
Freak Snowfall
It’s been a while since I last saw snow, but I’m always prepared for anything: cap and scarf on the coat rack, just in case.
Walking from the parking garage to work, I caught a glimpse… a single snowflake drifting from a nearby alley.
I walked over there, and in there was a winter wonderland, dumpsters covered with snow, drifts as high as my knee.
And a snowman, but it turned out to be a bum who had frozen to death, covered by the freak snowfall.
I put the cap and scarf on him.
There. That’s much more festive, right?