GYSO Reviews Part 46 - Santa F. Clause

Published: 2024-08-11

Circa 10,000 years ago. Circle 10,000 yams ago. That’s how many yams Santa F. Clause ate before dying from eating too many yams. No wonder he’s so… morbidly obese. I yam not joking.

Then he went to Hell. Why? Oh, you might think it had something to do with being a sadistic, masochistic, misanthropic, nihilistic, sociopathic, amoral husk. But during his time alive, he hid those traits very well, and acted like a good old fat dude that really really liked yams.

Unfortunately, he still went to Hell, because he squished a divine butterfly (which looks exactly the same as a normal butterfly) when he when to sit his fat ass down on a log somewhere in the mediterranean. The fact that he was out there as a volunteer to assist Doctors Without Borders (the ‘Borders’ part refers to the book store chain) didn’t seem to be relevant. Heaven can be pretty weird like that sometimes.

Santa F. Clause, immedietly upon being sent to Hell, laughed like a goober, if said goober was actually unhinged and fatter than yo mamma. The various demons and tortured souls around him were all like ‘woah wtf is with that guy, must be a masochist or something I won’t be inviting him to my parties’. One thing you never really get to know about Hell is that the demons were really just making their due, trying to survive. They chose their friends and after-work activities carefully. They had a family to provide for!

Anyways, Santa F. Clause used his super amazing not-contrived-at-all ice powers to begin waging war on the demons of Hell. The way his powers work is that The survivors (not a lot of them, let me tell you) ‘got to’ join his army and only got payed minimal Hell-wage, which is the same as in the United State of America, funnily enough (for Santa, that is).

It wasn’t an easy task. He would work Hell-day and Hell-night to fight off the opposing forces. He only had one goal in mind: To freeze hell over. This is because some romantic interest in his teenage years told him to get lost and ask her out once “Hell freezes over”. He didn’t understand sarcasm until after he was done with the whole Hell thing. Of course, that would be a very thin (especially for someone so girthy) motivation for such a deprived being, and there are other motivations driving his actions. I just don’t want to write them down right now.

Demon: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Santa: That’s right, Simon! That’s an A!

Simon said something, but nobody cared.

Santa F. Clause took great pride in educating the younger demons of Hell, mostly in the art of war, but still. When they were good, researching strategies of war–which mostly included reading Sun-Tsu’s The Art of War, Mao’s Little Red Book, the Communist Manifesto, and Green Eggs and Ham–Santa would give them a treat. He would bludgeon them as close to death as he could muster whilst wielding a single piece of coal, then he would drop a divinity-enhanced shit on Debra’s desk–she would file it away for later processing, of course. How it came to be that the history books tells a different story is a mystery.

But his plans against Satan weren’t yet fine-honed. It took some thousands of years of regular day-wage Hell and war crimes before he found the ultimate solution. He would start a union. You see, Hell is really a terrible place to work – for many reasons. But first and foremost, Santa recognized the power of organizing workers. He would set up strikes, rallies, guerilla marketing tactics. As Santa took over more of Hell, he would freeze his area to truly claim it as his. He started calling the demons that were part of his union “Elfs”, and they would have different tiers of membership and leadership. They would also have to get three more elfs to join, and those elfs three more, and so on. Very clever. This was truly an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object (Santa’s fat ass).

For almost ten thousand years, Santa F. Clause grew his beard (and his gut), became immortal by virtue of being in Hell, and organized the most efficient “union” the world never got to see.

Finally, the day was upon them. Santa vs. Satan. You’ll buy a ticket for the whole seat, but you can only afford the edge.

Satan: Santa.

Santa: Satan.

(No relation, by the way)

The battle was legendary, and really hard to follow, especially in text. It was like one of those shitty anime battles where it’s just a bunch of flashing lights and lines of ‘aura’ or whatever hitting each other into mountains. I think at some point Santa, or was it Satan, went Super Santa, or was it Satan, and screamed so loud his throat went raw. You need to work on your screaming, Santa, or was it Satan, or you’ll permanently injure your voice! Careful!

You all know how this story ends. Santa won, froze over hell, got revenge on that teenage girl that dumped his fat ass, learned what sarcasm was, and remanifested Hell into reality as the North Pole.

He disbanded his union and turned all his demon subordinates into actual elfs. Now he knew what damage they could do to his … uh… organization.

And that was the tale of a Christmas creten!

*MIC DROP*

Ready to conquer the world of the living, standing at the top of a mountain, bellowed a (rather large around the waist) god:

Santa: And from this day forward, you shall answer to me: Santa Fucking Clause!

Thim: There ain’t no fucking way your Goopy-Goofy ass is trying to pass that shit off as a true story.

Goopy Droopy: I assure you, friend, it did indeed ‘go down that way’, as the cool children say.

Thim: Get the hell out of my house, Goopy.