I've written a Christmas story every year for the past three years. This year's story is set on PLANET MOTHERFUCKER, so be forewarned: this story may just ruin your Christmas. If Santa's pooper, elves with big titties, or murderous reindeer ain't your bag--keeping walkin'.
For those built of stronger, stupider stuff:
Look upon my works, ye Merry, and despair!
I present: WE THREE KINGS LAY MANGLED AND TORN
May the Kruagh never find your chimney, may your mountain tops stay too hairy for witches (All know that witches like their mountains bald) and may all your quarry know the quiet of the honourably slain as the coldest night pass by.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I know Krevborna is Like That, but surely there’s at least one winter festival locals ENJOY, rather than endure - presumably circa the New Year, when they can celebrate another four seasons of beating the odds pitted against mere pitiful mortals in a Dark Fantasy/Horror setting.
ReplyDeleteI’m tempted to make a joke about calling it ‘Life Day’, but as a class act perhaps one might suggest ‘Not To-Day’ instead? (Yes, that one is a GRR Martin joke: perhaps the locals eat, drink and make merry as one of their number dresses up as the Grim Reaper and goes around being told - with due solemnity - “Not today, thank you, maybe next year” or words to that effect).
I’m not sure what your custom of Krevborna may be, but here on our sodden isle of Yre we say “New Year is come, may you live to see another!”.
ReplyDeleteAssuming the heather mead hasn’t tickled our tongue a little too well and started us singing it - anyway, time to jump that bonfire with the rest of the crannog!