[EDITOR’S NOTE: We needed some kind of weekend segue between Finnish tributes and the start of NCS year-end listmania, and we decided to publish this. We may need our heads examined. And, as you’ll see, we’re not the only ones.
A couple weeks ago, I vented my spleen about “the holiday season” in a post called FUCK CHRISTMAS! This apparently inspired our regular commenter and previous guest contributor Phro to put tentacle to paper and spin out a Christmas yarn, which he says was inspired by a true story. It’s even more insane and stomach-turning than Phro’s usual output — which is saying something. At least he didn’t indulge in any fantasies about my mom.
We’re publishing this as an act of mercy – not for Phro, but for the people he might victimize if we didn’t let him get this off his chest. It will help you to know that Phro is a U.S. ex-pat teaching English in an undisclosed Japanese town. We hope he’s teaching livestock and not actual human beings. It also occurs to us that he should go easier on whatever passes for Japanese moonshine.]
“Jingle bells, jingle bells…”
The sound echoed in my ears. Distant and echoey and seemingly far away. It was like the sound of my first born being murdered by a land-born octopus with razors for suckers.
I was lying on the floor in a pile of vomit, blood, shit, piss, and other squishy fluids I chose not to recognize. There were frightened children, parents, and Japanese policemen around me. The policemen looked as frightened as the children. They were babbling something at me in a language I knew I should know, but I was having a hard time connecting my brain to reality. (more dementia after the jump . . .)