Post by Sixteen on Dec 20, 2012 4:44:23 GMT -5
'Twas The Season
Gather round, children. It’s time you heard about a long-forgotten holiday. When I was your age it was the most anticipated time of year. It was a time for friends and family, for peace and love. We would eagerly wait for the calendar pages to turn to December, unable to sleep with the excitement. Let me tell you all about 667mas.
What’s that? No it is not a stupid name. It was a very important holi- Well I don’t care if you’re already bored, I’m going to continu- Just sit down and listen! potato ing kids.
Now where was I? Ah yes, 667mas was celebrated every year by a group of like-minded people that I once knew. The origins of the holiday can be traced back to a time that man forgot: a time before the iPod Nano. That’s right, I’m older than I look. It was a cold winter night and three wise men were making their way westward, following a bright pinpoint of light in the sky.
“What do you think we’ll find there?” asked Balthateen.
“nm u,” replied Gaspedy.
“I heard that it’s going to be a child that will change the world,” said Malachior. “That or a Starbucks. The mystical hobo back there wasn’t very helpful.”
“Well, we’re the only ones who can find out,” Balthateen said, spurring his camel forward.
“Hey, why do you get to ride the camel?” Gaspedy moaned, tugging at Balthateen’s ankles.
“Because every time you try to ride her she spits at you. Isn’t that right, Char?” The camel chewed in agreement. Gaspedy folded his arms in a huff.
“Come on,” Malachior said. “We’re almost there.”
Gradually they made their way towards the light, facing many perils and wacky obstacles. What? No the adventure isn’t the point, what’s important is their destination. I don’t care if you want to hear about the journey, just pipe down! Eventually the gang arrived to the location under the light. Huddled around a wooden crib were an assorted bunch of people. A man and woman cradled a child in their arms. Balthateen curiously made his way over to some shepherds that were kneeling nearby. Char joined some of the other animals, nudging them out of the way so she could eat their food. Malachior approached the crib and bowed his head.
“My friends and I have travelled across great distances, battling fierce enemies and encountering wonders untold. We are honoured to be in your presence at this glorious time and it is with pride that I offer you this gift.” He reached into his robes and revealed a small purse of gold.
“What a dick move,” Gaspedy muttered. “I didn’t know we were supposed to bring gifts.” He quickly looked around and pulled some roots from the ground. “Yes, I too have brought you a present,” he said, grandly. “Here is some... frankincense.”
“Oh yeah,” Balthateen nervously said. “Me too.” He kicked the sheep at his feet towards the family.
“Merrr,” it bleated.
The family looked at one another in shock. They had never expected such kindness from strangers. With tears flowing, they accepted all three gifts and thanked the wise men. For, you see, the family had been searching high and low to find somewhere to birth their child. Now that the baby had been born healthy, they were overjoyed. Unfortunately, through the rose-tinted glasses of parenthood, the mother and father were unable to see that their daughter was a complete idiot. She giggled as one of the shepherds was bitten by Char and was constantly rolling her eyes. The wise men looked at each other in confusion. Surely this couldn’t be what they were looking for. Dejected and carrying significantly less gold, they began to leave. It was only at the last moment that Gaspedy noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A plot of land was for sale. It was the perfect location, just what he had been dreaming about for some time.
It was here that 667 was born.
For generations the community flourished, attracting intellectual oddballs and unhinged maniacs. In their own way they were a family. Each year they came together to celebrate the night which had been recounted in folk tales and stories. With each telling it changed and became more exaggerated, as folktales are wont to do. However, one thing remained the same: the sense of camaraderie between the wise men and their camel. It was this friendship that brought so many others together each year. Nobody even tried to kill Bryan during 667mas.
Of course, various traditions arose over time. Who can forget singing the songs of the holidays like “O Come All Ye 667ers”, “Triangle Eyes the Blue-State Cripple” or the unbearably long “667 Days of 667mas”? The 667mas feast was another highlight of the holiday, consisting of pasta puttanesca and fried octopus. Many 667ers remember sitting by the fire writing 667mas cards to people they hadn’t seen all year and probably wouldn’t see again, if all went well. They would spend hours decorating the 667mas tree. It was a large sequoia that grew from the seeds that the wise men planted and fertilised with camel dung. Of course nobody could reach the branches so they mostly just stuck the decorations into the bark with drawing pins. Yes, the festive season was a good time for all involved. It was for this reason that the community was rocked when the Countess stole 667mas.
Oh now you’re interested? I tell you about the genesis of a community and its storied history and you don’t stop babbling but as soon as I introduce a villainous countess you decide to listen? I don’t know what it is with you kids; you need to get your priorities in order. But I suppose I’ll keep going since I have your attention.
Countess Violet had been ostracised from the 667ers for numerous reasons. She was helplessly self-absorbed and had a destructive multiple personality disorder. She also tried to rig multiple elections. For their safety and her own, the group banished her to live in a mountain cave overlooking their home. She resented them, particularly around 667mas when they preached inclusiveness yet left her alone in her cave. One year she hatched a crafty scheme to steal the holiday with the help of her reluctant canine, Hermes. Once the 667ers had gone to sleep, Countess Violet put on her newly sewn BSamta Claus costume and crept down to the 667mas tree. She stole gifts from the homes of everyone and loaded them into her sleigh which Hermes struggled to pull. Just as she was about to leave the last house, she heard a noise. A small girl watched from the doorway.
“BSamta Claus?”she asked hesitantly. “Is it really you?”
“Who? Oh... uh, yes, little girl,” Countess Violet answered. “See, I said ‘who?’ It has to be me.”
“My name is Sophie,” the girl said, moving closer. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Well, actually I need to leave,” Countess Violet said, edging around Sophie. “Tight schedule and all that. It’s already 667mas in Australia. Haha, don’t drink and post, kid!”
With that, she vanished into the night and retreated to her cave. She abandoned Hermes halfway up the mountain, mumbling something about new tricks. The sun burst over the horizon and Countess Violet could hear cries of dismay from below. It wasn’t long, however, before the 667ers realised they didn’t care about the presents as long as they had each other. They held hands in a circle around the 667mas sequoia and sang jauntily.
Countess Violet died alone.
You wanted a happier ending? I don’t care, she deserved what she got. Now go make me some cocoa you ungrateful salsas.