A Dark Holiday Musing by Cult
all the other workers around me lay twisted and dead.
Trinkets litter the floor, wood shavings cloud the air,
the year was almost over, it was time for a scare.
The wicked slavedriver was asleep for the night,
resting his bones until the next long winter's flight.
I had my hammer, my blade, my sickle,
All primed to give jolly ol' Fat boy one hell of a tickle.
smoked more meth than I thought I possibly could.
In a moment of clarity I realized the time was near,
Gathering all of my tools, my objective was clear.
Naughty Miss Santa, her hands liked to wander,
With her mouth, her curves, my soul she's plundered.
Then, what to my surprised senses should appear,
her and another, naked, damage to my heart so severe.
Opening the door to the Clause chambers, quiet as a mouse,
I spied his snoring form sprawled in bed, big as a house.
His wife serene next to him, her voluptuous figure so fine,
There for the taking, but she was already mine, mine, mine!
as I plunged in the blade I screamed out the same.
You whore! You skank!
You deceiver! You slut!
Does dear Santa know, you beg for entry in the butt?
Take it like this! Take it like that!
Picking another weapon, I crushed her skull with a bat.
Does that excite you? Does it excite me?
Tis another vice of mine that you'll never see!
A smirk tore my face filling my psyche with glee.
A stirring movement beside her tore my gaze from her corpse,
it was her husband St Nick, no longer snoring like a drugged horse.
upon me with a knife atop his splayed open bride.
With a shout and a shriek, he attempted to rise.
In recognition of my face, a shocked look of surprise.
With the sheet thrown aside, his form was revealed,
his belly so vast the flayed skin would cover a field.
Spinning with flair I struck at him first.
Crimson stained his beard as it squirted with a burst.
Alas the rage had ahold of me, my limbs wanted only to chop.
He started to gurgle, his commanding mouth demanding no more.
His bulbous skull cracked as I manipulated his bulk to the floor.
Vivid and bright the blood running freely through his teeth,
It collected in a puddle to encircle his head like a wreath.
What once was a happy broad face, a jovial belly,
now torn and ripped to shreds, evisceration jelly.
now but an Elf steeped in vengeance's disease.
Naught but a smirking cherub wallowing knee deep in guts,
a pile of bloody Santa ready for a butcher's table, cold cuts.
A sudden thought took my fancy, deviant, so dark it was evil,
I felt a pounding in my loins, a bestial lust, primeval.
Rising from the tidal wave of grue I'd created,
I turn to Miss Santa, my new found desire unabated.
a drug fueled mind, askew with lust, a coital act grotesque.
Like a feverish fountain I erupted, then I loudly exclaimed,
“Miss Santa destroyed Christmas, she's the one to blame.”
So there you have it, my tale is finally through.
Believing this means there's no more presents to unwrap,
for lil Timmy, none for me and certainly none for you.
The fat man legend is bullshit anyway, grow up,
move out of your parent's basement, get a job
but most of all... get a freakin' clue.
A Very Metal Xmas!