GYSO Reviews Part 41 - Big Evil Villians

Published: 2024-06-02

Santa: Come with me and I will give you a tour of our evil war base. Welcome to the North Pole! I hope that you’ll be convinced to join the winning side, Thim! Your skills would be very useful in the coming wars.

Santa gives that big, warm smile that only a man with an excess amount of beard can give. Though Thim is slightly weirded out at the mention of “evil war base”.

Thim: Cool, alright, cool, whatever, yeah.

Bunny: I’m thirsty father.

Thim: Hey Santa, do you have any evil water for my bunny? He doesn’t do too well with holy water.

The bunny … purrs? Or whatever it is that bunnies do… The bunny sniffs the air in that cute way and starts to gnaw one of Thim’s thumbs.

Thim: I am in excruciating pain right now.

Santa gestures towards an elf. The gesture he makes isn’t one to repeat in a family friendly blog such as this one.

Santa: You, elf, fetch our guest some evil water.

Elf: Yessir! But what’s evil water?

Santa: I will launch you into Mars’ largest crater if you question me again, elf.

Elf: Noooo! Not the Hellas Planita!

The elf runs off to fetch evil water.

Santa: That’s well enough. Let’s get you and your bunny up to speed on what’s going on here, I have many things to show you.

Santa walks up to a door covered in locks, chains, and a ‘NO PARENTS ALLOWED’ sign glued partially to the bottom of it.

Santa: In the travels of my youth, I found a nacant elder god trapped in an urn in an old saloon. It was furious at being spat on all the time, so I saved it in exchange for an eternity of service to me. I’m sure you understand…

Santa side-eyes the bunny…

Santa: Regardless, I would like to introduce you to my servant, Shub Niggurath, black goat of the woods, mother of a thousand young.

Santa gently knocks on the door.

Shub: F I V E M O R E M I N U T E S F A T H E R C H R I S T M A S

Bunny: Father I’m ready.

Thim: Wow this is really weird, even for my standards. I think I’m going home now, bye.

The door bulges, before returning to its regular state. This paragraph is, logically speaking, redundant. From a storytelling perspective, though… (still redundant)

Thim: Well, I guess I’ll stay. Shub makes a convincing argument.

Santa wipes some sweat from his brow.

Santa: A good choice, my boy! Let’s go see where the nuclear warheads, the new clear warheads, and the nu caviar Warheads(tm) candy, are produced.

Bunny: The flower, plucked, withers like a plucked flower.

Thim: That sure does not sound like candy I’d like to taste. Come on, bunny, we have more things to see.

Bunny: Rivers and rocks, father. Rivers and rocks.

The North Pole is a barren place. But in this strange land, looks like Bowser is back at it again. Will Mario be able to save the princess again?

…Wait wrong story.

Thim: I’M SINGING IN THE SNOW! I’M SINGING IN THE SNOOOOOW!!

Santa, Thim, and the bunny safely clinging to Thim’s arms–clinging, Thim isn’t bothering to carry the bun anymore–make their way into a large building.

Thim: Whole thing looks like some stereotypical Christmas movie shit, right there, right there, if I do say so myself.

The building is lit up with an assortment of Christmas-colored LEDs and the gingerbread structure is draped with one enormous bowtie.

Thim performs a quadruple backflip up to the door where Santa is (not too) patiently waiting for them.

Bunny: Epic move, father.

Santa stares at them, wondering how Thim can look so stupid while subverting his every attempt at recruitment. Truly, The Immortal is a mastermind of the highest caliber; as to be expected, of course.

Well inside the large gingerbread doors, because this is a gingerbread house now, is the place where they check who is naughty or nice.

Santa: Back in the old days we used to use this room as a black list. But after the first world war–my fault, by the way–it’s become a white list instead.

Thim: BLACK. LIST? Holy shit, you can’t say that crap, it’s 2024, my dude!

Santa: First, you know that’s not what I meant. Second, I’m evil.

Thim: Anyways, do me. Am I on the black or white list?

The bunny’s dead, lifeless bunny eyes scan the list on one of the screens.

Bunny: I am naughty, father. Punish me.

Thim chokes on nothing.

Thim: You know what, I left my oven on. Gotta go!

Santa: But you haven’t seen my army yet! Or my arm! Or my arr!

A pirate ship full of elfs flys over them at that moment, singing shanty songs about finding the Juan Piece or something.

Thim: You have a pirate ship? That’s sooooo cooooool!

Santa breathes a sigh of relief. This could be the way to The Immortal’s heart. Entertainment.

Meanwhile at the GYSO mansion:

Henry: I’m worried about Thim.

Snag’Darr: I’m not. Go fish.

They hurry over to the war room. Santa wants to present to Thim how competent and well respected he could be if he joins Santa.

Thim, of course, doesn’t even realize this is a recruitment pitch. He’s just been wandering around, to be hoenst.

The monitors and signs beep and buzz with information. Some of it might even be useful information, which is why we’re skipping it in this description.

Santa: I want you to meet some of my generals.

From the corner of the room, a door opens, and seven tiny elfs – looking so hungry they might collapse any second – are pushed through by larger brute elfs. Each of the smaller elfs are bound together in chain and shackles.

Thim: Oh, what’s this, you’re going to execute those little elfs for some wrongdoing right in front of me as a show of power or something?

Santa:… Those are my generals.

Bunny: Reaping wheat, father.

Thim tries to unlatch the bunny from his left pectoral, which predictably doesn’t work. Instead, the bunny clings harder, father.

Santa: This is General UwU, General OwO, General Nyaa, Gener–

Thim: I’ve heard enough. Thanks for the nightmares, I don’t even know what you’re trying to accomplish here. You clearly didn’t think through who you were meeting with. Bye.

The died.

Santa’s single bead of sweat on his forehead is growing larger. This sentence is, oddly enough, not a euphemism.

Meanwhile the ‘generals’ are in ‘general’ having a bad time.

Santa considers that maybe letting Thim explore the war base on his own might lead him to something that interests him enough to be used for bartering.

Yes. This is a great plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this.

Santa: Thim. Feel free to explore the North Pole on your own. I have other matters to attend to. I will see you later tonight.

Thim: Sweet. Oh and give those elfs some food, asshat.

Thim flips off Santa, the bunny also flips off Santa, the literal God of War in this universe; Santa.

Thim, of course, only takes five minutes to come across the most dangerous part of the base–the rooms where they make the toys.

Thim: Hey, elfs, elfettes, and assorted elfinators. Are they giving you enough food and/or paid vacation?

Apart from the machines in the factory, there is silence from the workers.

Thim: You know, there’s this fancy new invention called a union…

Bunny: Moloch. Moloch, father!

Suddenly! A trap door opens in the floor, and two level 10 Elf Thugs jumps up, weapons drawn, shouting about Season Two of The Big Bang Theory. Either they’re really invested in the show, or it’s part of some deliberate disorientation tactic.

Thim, being more of a Seinfeld guy, slaps a bass and says…

Thim: Whoa! Calm down there, guys!

The elfs are pointing their guns at Thim, asking about dental plans and random trivia from the show. Bazinga.

Thim backs that ass up against a wall, god damn, not feeling particularly threatened, but also feeling like his personal space is starting to get a bit violated.

The room is again silent, and the thugs go back through their trap door, since Thim disappeared out of thin air. In reality he just covered his face with his hands, and they thought he disappeared.

Relaxing a little, Thim lets his arms fall against the wall, and notices a small indent. It feels kind of like a handle or something like it. I can’t ‘handle’ this blog sometimes wtf.

Thim: Oh cool a secret door! Time to open it without aaaaaany reservations!

Bunny: Father.

Thim opens the secret door.

Somewhere on the surface of Mars…

Melon Musk: Any moment now…

With a blinding white, orange, and door hinge light, Thim appears in front of Melon Musk’s desk. Just as planned, Thim has been teleported to Melon Musk on Melon Mars.

Melon Musk spins around in his totally-evil-overlord chair, you know the one, In his arms is hairy melon (a coconut) with googly eyes fitted and a smile drawn with lipstick. It looks like a crude art project made by a child.

Melon Musk: Welcome, Thim. I’ve been expecting you.

Bunny: Father, I envy a coconut now.

Musk strokes the hairy coconut menacingly. The coconut’s googly eyes swirl around like, well, googly eyes.

Thim: I feel like I’m out of my element here, I’m used to walking around the house, drinking ethanol, and playing Go Fish with my best friend dragon, Jesus, a government spy, and an aloe vera plant. But here I am being hauled around by some some lame-ass ass-villains.

Melon Musk presses a button on his desk and a cooler full of ethonol appears right next to Thim. There is also a plate of evil water, for the bunny.

Melon Musk: Please, enjoy. I hope we can become good friends, Thim.

DUN DUN DUUUUUN

Tune in next time to see some more stupid shit or something fsdkfjdslkjfdksljfklsdjafkldsjklfjklsd.