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Das Corpus Infinecia (434 hits)

Category: Quotes & Stories

Rating: 1 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by cwl989 (View user info) at 2005-01-05 20:00:54 EST


This a little holiday cheer litany that my friend, who goes by Skorpiain, threw together. I only just now received permission to use it. It's nonsensical, but fun to read.

"His body, wreathed in flame, pierced by an unholy crucifix. Santa Claus will not be coming to town. Upon closer inspection, you will find that not only were his cute boots pilfered by an unsavory savage...but his poor gray cloud-like beard is drenched with the crimson life blood flowing generously from his gaping jaw. Who did this?! Who killed poor Santa Claus!? Who had the AUDACITY TO RUIN CHRISTMAS!!...I will tell you one thing for sure. It wasn't Scrooge. Take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself if you truly partake in the celebration of a martyr of which we as humans have never laid one sense upon. Never have I tasted the salts of his unclean skin, thoroughly massaged his facial pubescence, heard the exotic Hebrew tongue of young YHWH, or took an extreme deep whiff of his harvest moon for that matter.

I................I have to confess. It was me who, in fact, delivered the final blow to Mr. Claus. You see, he was being a -complete- prick. He was jiving about how 'tis the season to be jolly, to give and celebrate the birth of the aforementioned fellow (asshole if you ask me). I quickly replied as though the statements I just heard were as repugnant as waking up in the middle of the night to a 14-year-old whore giving birth right outside your window, "No. It's fucking cold, every day should be a day to give and Jesus had a plethora of venereal diseases due to his hussy of a mawma." He turned to me and replied. "No. I'm right, you're wrong." It was at this point of time that I realized I was no longer talking to a human, but just another conservative robot. It all makes sense. Santa Claus is a right wing Christian fundamentalist. Why else would Christmas be the ultimate time for consumer wastelands to open their great festering maw of corporate greed?

Santa and I mysteriously teleported atop the Cathedral of St. Paul, and it's proclaimed magnificence. (I agree on the architectural standpoint, such a lovely building). Anyway's, that fat fucker Limbaugh wannabe and I clenched our fists atop the frigid domed copper roof. No longer were we enemies. We were just men, doing our jobs. The man in red upholding "morals" and the "man" in black maintaining the balance of life. I had yelled "YES, SANTA!! HAND TO HAND COMBAT IS THE BASIS OF ALL COMBAT! IT IS THE WAY OF THE TRUE WARRIOR. ONLY A FOOL TRUSTS HIS LIFE WITH A WEAPON!!". Santa immediately grunted, and our fight then took place. The moon, pale as death showed itself brightly in the distance, casting dark, fighting silouhettes atop the cathedral. Santa landed a fist clean in my word hole; I flew backwards a couple feet almost sliding down the dome, to my death. However, (as I always seem to do) I grabbed upon a crack. I noticed a quick accumulation of blood flowing into my mouth. A wonderful idea came across my mind, and I began mixing my own saliva with the blood, while dodging the malicious melee of Santa Claus, aka Mr. (not so) Nice. When my cheeks became fat and engorged with blood (remind you of something?) I rushed towards Claus, and spit it all in his face in a spraying like fashion, as though I were Moby Dick and my assailant were Captain Ahab. Immediately I leapt into a flying/spinning upper cut, causing Santa Claus to fly/flip backwards. I stared intently like a 6-year-old who just came across his father's porn collection, watching, as my master plan would unfold. Santa had landed on his stomach, which caused a minor bounce due to the fact he eats too much ...MEAT... This caused his neck to whiplash and send his moistened face slamming against the frozen copper dome whilst body in mid air flight. Dangling by the fat of his face, Santa's blubbery body was dangling lifelessly...nervously some 150 feet in the air. I reached into Santa's bag of toys, and pulled out an iPod. I decided a little reenactment of the ear cutting scene from Reservoir Dogs was in order, so I selected a similar track that played during said scene. I pulled Santa up from the copper dome. His poor jolly face sure wasn't so jolly anymore...The only blade I had on me was my dull leatherman. I attempted this for a good 30 seconds before I decided that the blade was too dull to cut past any more interfering cartilage. I doused him in a gallon of gasoline that laid ever so conveniently on the dull rooph, set him aflame and jump kicked him off into the court yard below. Thus, bringing this stories ending, to the beginning.

To make a long story short, I kicked the living shit out of Santa Claus, I kicked his balls, threw him by his cakey harvest moon...In the end I set Rudolph and Co. free. The reindeer now live happily ever after amongst the Caribou in the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve (ANWR) in Alaska, where Bush and his cronies plan to drill for oil that will only supply temporary "happiness" (if such a word is appropriate in the given context).

o lol i g2g sya my prayers now!11"

-Skorpiain


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User Reviews


Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2005-01-06 03:01:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 1

The piece is nice.

I wonder if people would get offended if I did the same to say, Jesus? Or maybe just a mormon.

I mean, I'm an atheist, but I'm not mean spirited. Some people are just undeserving pricks.

Yup, a mormon it is.


Homer: We always have one good kid and one lousy kid. Why can't both
our kids be good?

Marge: We have three kids, Homer.

Separate Vacations