A FUCKING CHRISTMAS STORY

[EDITOR’S NOTE: We needed some kind of weekend segue between Finnish tributes and the start of NCS year-end listmania, and we decided to publish this. We may need our heads examined. And, as you’ll see, we’re not the only ones.

A couple weeks ago, I vented my spleen about “the holiday season” in a post called FUCK CHRISTMAS! This apparently inspired our regular commenter and previous guest contributor Phro to put tentacle to paper and spin out a Christmas yarn, which he says was inspired by a true story. It’s even more insane and  stomach-turning than Phro’s usual output — which is saying something. At least he didn’t indulge in any fantasies about my mom.

We’re publishing this as an act of mercy – not for Phro, but for the people he might victimize if we didn’t let him get this off his chest. It will help you to know that Phro is a U.S. ex-pat teaching English in an undisclosed Japanese town. We hope he’s teaching livestock and not actual human beings. It also occurs to us that he should go easier on whatever passes for Japanese moonshine.]

“Jingle bells, jingle bells…”

The sound echoed in my ears.  Distant and echoey and seemingly far away.  It was like the sound of my first born being murdered by a land-born octopus with razors for suckers.

“Wha…”

I was lying on the floor in a pile of vomit, blood, shit, piss, and other squishy fluids I chose not to recognize.  There were frightened children, parents, and Japanese policemen around me.  The policemen looked as frightened as the children.  They were babbling something at me in a language I knew I should know, but I was having a hard time connecting my brain to reality. (more dementia after the jump . . .)

“Jingle bells, jingle bells…”

There it was AGAIN.  That fucking song.  Like Jesus grew a spiked dick and was using it to ear fuck me into submission.  I always knew that bastard had it in for me.

“Wha’ th’ fuc’ d’ya’ azzholz wan’?” I muttered as much to myself as the trembling policemen.  I knew they couldn’t understand me, but, frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure I could understand me.  Well, fuck it, I decided, the gooey mess was starting to get uncomfortable.  So, slowly, I stood up.

The policeman closest to me shouted, quite vehemently.  “Tomare! Tatsu na!”

I looked at him, trying to glare, but looking nothing less that utterly pathetic.

I slipped and splattered in the mess.  It was…unpleasant.  Was that a  tentacle getting jammed into my ass?  What the fuck was going on here?

After a moment of deliberation, I gathered my strength and stood up, just as the aforementioned policeman was nearing me.  Apparently, he was as shocked by my sudden movement as I was by my throbbing headache, so he proceeded to use a judo throw to render me once more unconscious.  Fucking Japanese cops, why can’t they get tazers and pistols like the rest of the world?

I was plunged into a world of red, green, and darkness the likes of which you have never seen.  I was haunted by evil melodies, fat men with scraggly beards, and a the image of AKB48 writhing in a swamp of tinsel and ejaculate.  Fucking  J Pop.  I ran screaming down long and dark hallways decorated with blinking lights and stockings hung without the utmost care.  Tattered animal skins and human skulls overflowed from the stockings, spilling onto the floor like blood from a cut pig’s mouth.

Suddenly, a cold splash of water woke me from my fevered dreams.  I was bound and gagged to a steel chair.  The Japanese detective standing in front of me looked menacing, but I could tell his heart wasn’t really in it.  He seemed as terrified of me as I was of him.  What could I have possibly done?  I mean, yeah, this is a pretty podunk shit hole where the most exciting thing for a police officer to do on Saturday night is ferry old drunk men from the side of the street puking to their ugly,  shriveled up shrill wives, but surely he’s seen worse than some confused foreigner covered in piss, shit, blood, vomit, and…something.  What was that other gooey stuff?

He didn’t speak.  He just glared at me.  I tried to talk, but I realized there was a rubber ball strapped into my mouth.  This didn’t seem like proper protocol to me.  I grunted a few words and tried to convey confusion using my eyes.  I’m not sure if it worked or not, because all he did was slap me.

“Omae wa nanimono kai?” he suddenly screamed at me.

What the fuck am I?  How does one answer a question like that?  Especially with a fist sized rubber ball in one’s mouth.

After I gurgled desperately for a few minutes, he finally opened the door and two very large Japanese men entered the room and stood on either side of me, while the detective removed the ball gag from my mouth.   Trepidatiously

“Ima…boku…doko desu ka?  Chotto…nani ga okotteru ka wakarimasen kedo…”  I said.  At least, I think that’s what I said.  My brain was still swimming with half remembered images of blood and  Christmas cheer.

He looked at me sternly, and then clicked on a TV that I hadn’t noticed until now.  On its screen, I saw a  security video.  After a moment, I realized I was watching myself.

It was from earlier that day.  About 5 hours earlier.  I started to remember it more clearly.  I was wearing a Santa Claus suit.  I was surrounded by screaming children.  We seemed to be singing…something…yes!  That’s right!  We were singing “Jingle Bells”!  AGAIN!  It was the sixth time that day.  And I remembered the mall music.  Oh, the mall music, like tiny robotic tentacles reaching down your ear holes to quietly rape your brain and  impregnate it with parasitic nightmares.  Oh, the nightmares.  How they had haunted me for weeks.  Like  quiet commands from an alien overlord.  Or an overfiend…

Suddenly, on the screen, I saw myself scream.  It was a scream that came not from within me, but from within the depths of hell.  It was a scream that curdled eggnog and dried the cum right up while still inside your balls.  It was a scream that neither man nor animal could muster without the mark of the beast seared across their flesh.  The children froze for a moment, before I grabbed the closest one, picked him up, and threw him through a window.  The other children screamed and scattered out of the room.  Then I threw myself through the door, like a wild badger trying to get out of a cage.

The screen cut to another view, slightly closer up, where I was ranting like an archetypical homeless man.

“Fuck you, you slimy little queefs of human excrement!  Your tendrils of seasonal cheer have grown long enough!  Fuck you with the Righteous Strap On of Rigamortis!  Fuck you with the Demonic Dildo of Doom and Despair!!  Fuck you with the Tentacles of Terror and Tenacity.  For I am become Analus, the ancient deity of Angry Apocalyptic Assripping!!!  All your base are, indeed, belong to MEEEEEE!!!”

And then, like a goddamn, shitty ass DragonBall Z cartoon, I watched myself start to float in the air, surrounded by an aura of golden light.

“I am rage and hatefuckery incarnate, and now you all shall pay for raining down your filthy, disgusting Christmas music upon the Earth!!  Your reign of fake cheer and lies of world peace are now at their end!!”

A giant dildo, no less that five feet long and 4 inches wide, suddenly appeared in my hand and I ran screaming through the assembling crowd, batting heads and kicking groins.  One middle-aged lady tried to stop me by moving into my path, so I opened my mouth and a tentacle erupted from my throat, penetrating her abdomen and wiggling like a fallen fat man, drunk on eggnog.  A million tiny dildos dangled off of it, squirting red and green colored ejaculate every direction.  Detaching from within me, it coiled itself around her body, squeezing her savagely.

Suddenly, two police officers appeared on the screen, screaming something unintelligible and waving their hands wildly.  My eyes burned the colors of hell and forced sodomy, and I pulled angry spinning vibrators from the thin air.  They whirred in my hands with the horrific loudness of hordes of locusts.  I launched them at the policemen, planting them firmly in their foreheads.  As they collapsed to the floor, blood erupting from their foreheads in a reverse bukkake, the vibrators exploded, and thousands of angry baby vibrato-demons took to the air, filling the screen with their pulsating, furious hum.

Suddenly, they turned to the screen and spat a white goo at the screen, melting the camera like acid.

Cutting to another screen, I can see myself slowly walking through the mall, stabbing terrified shoppers with Christmas-colored dildos.  One  particularly annoying customer took one in the eye, and he fell screaming to the floor.  I laughed maniacally as he groped at the giant cock slowly digging into his skull and mashing his brains.

Suddenly, my face contorted in pain, as the sound of Christmas music cut through the din and ripped my vibrato-demons into billions and billions of particles of hate and rage and disinterested  boners.  The particles settled like a fine dust upon the trashed mall.  I grabbed my head, and fell into a fetal position.  The music grew louder, and I screamed.  It was a pathetic scream.  Like the sound of a million Japanese school girls simultaneously seeing a penis for the first time.  Suddenly, I vomited on myself.  Well, that explains that.   Then, the music intensified, and I voided my bowels.  Oh, the agony it looked to have been.  And then my eyes and ears started bleeding.  Particularly my ears.  The blood ran like an unchecked period.  Finally, I passed out from the exertion.  After a few moments, the music subsided, and my mouth fell open.  A small tentacle slid out of my mouth and felt around.

I blinked at the TV screen.  What the fuck was that?

Then another tentacle.  And another.  Soon, there were eight of them, sliding stickily over my face, throat, and body. And then IT appeared.  It was neither octopus nor squid.  Neither human nor animal.  It was terrifying and long.  It slowly drew its body from within mine.  At last, it stood tall upon my chest and gazed at the onlookers.  It was massive and throbbing.  Not unlike a horse’s or a bull’s cock.

It glared at the crowd, slapped me with a tentacle, and sprang off the screen.  The gathered crowd screamed, but it was soon gone…gone to whence it came.

The screen went black.

The police officers looked at me.

I knew it would not be a very fucking merry Christmas.

As usual.