Text 4745, 147 rader
Skriven 2006-12-07 16:19:00 av Greg Sears
Ärende: Merry X-mas
===================
             S A N T A   C L A U S :   T H E   T R U E   S T O R Y

In light of the Father Christmas rumours, him being the old fat brandy
reddened present bringer.  I recently visited an ancient vault of top
secret documents at the bottom of a broken staircase, in between the
nest of Black Mamba's, to the right of the man eating slug from hell
just under the window, marked "Top Secret" (No, they really are!  If you
don't believe me you can ask my mate Fred, he's the caretaker and my dad
at weekends when he's not at the Greyhound races or when.  I think you
get the drift.

Eagerly I opened the drawer marked "S-Z", don't ask me why but I did.
Scanning the contents I noticed a bright red file with silver and gold
glitter and three leaves of holly which were stapled onto a card with a
jolly snowman crazy-glued to the front of the file.  Opening the file I
was entranced to find that it was the character profile of "S. Claus".
This is was the story I found.

 C L A U S .   S   -   L A P L A N D

It was said that in the war torn land of "Helluvafight" was a small
colony of refugee's called The Ucker Tribe, population 10.  Five women,
one very happy man and four goats.

The colony had evaded the war by a quirk of fate.  They were all Michael
Jackson fans, so whenever they were threatened, the tribe leader and
only male, sang ballads whilst moonwalking and holding his genital's and
howling in short burst's.  So as anyone would do, they clasped their
hand's to their ears, gazed at the magic backwards walking man and ran
like the clappers.

So the tribe lived on.  The only male, "Belviz 'Tornring' Bonebender"
went about his daily duties, ploughing the arid land, milking the goats,
teaching dancing class and shagging all five of the women by sundown.

Unprotected sex equals population increase or it should do, but Belviz
was a clever man.  He had taken a small selection of leaves, twigs, snot
and animal fur and moulded it with goat fat to produce a penis shaped
object with a hole in one end for his John Thomas, which fit snugly up
to the root.

After the five women were reduced to shrieks and wailing wrecks due to
the penile invention of his tearing needed organs, he decided to leave
the plundering of female orifices and turn to the grazing goats for his
sexual satisfaction.

One evening he set about the rear end of the plumpest of the goats.
Inserting himself he began to shunt backwards and forwards.  Now the
Uckers weren't the brightest of tribes, to be honest they were as
thick as shit in Winter.  So with limited brain power they were unable
to determine the gender of the goats and luckily Belviz was shagging the
female.

But behind him stood another goat, it's horns standing a good six inches
above it's thick skull, panting, snorting and stamping it's feet
angrily on the ground.  For a while it continued to watch his pale
backside wobble back and forth, this was the night Belviz earned his
middle name "Tornring".

The billy goat charged viciously towards Belviz's back end, targeting
his brown eye.  With one mighty stab Belviz's eye's - all three of them
- watered as he yelled with his head pointed skywards.

With his ringpiece in tatter's he went forth to a soothsayer on the far
reach of a crag, concerned that his torn ringpiece may be a bad omen.
As it happens Sootha Soothsooth the Soothsayer of Soothacrag, warned of
an offspring that will bring many a happiness to children worldwide.
Belvis feared that his offspring may grow to become a paedophile (child
molester) and punished himself by leaving the Ucker tribeswomen and
venturing north to the icelands. There were two reasons for that:
Firstly, there were no women or goats in the icelands.  Secondly, the
cold snow relieved his ever throbbing ringpiece.

Belviz named the icelands Lapland for reasons of his own lunacy and
began to fashion houses from the one and only spruce tree that grew in
the snowy wastes.  Of course there were pauses in between the building
as the tree needed to grow again.

Years passed.  Then more, years passed.  Until, another year passed,
then another.

Fifteen years later, more years passed.

One day there was a light knock at his carved spruce door.  Upon opening
he saw a fat man stood blocking the sunlight.

"Belviz 'Tornring' Bonebender"?, he asked softly.

"Yes."

"I am your son of years ago."

Belviz promptly fainted.  An hour passed, then another.  When he finally
woke up, he looked straight into the fat mans red face with its goaty
white beard draped over his barrel like belly.

"Goaty beard!"

"Yes father, I am Kid 'Belvizson' Goatstuffer, your only son.
GoatMother is doing well, she is now a parliamentary candidate for
Helluvafight, also she is funding the Bolivian freedom fighters.

Again he passed out.

Later Belviz noticed his son's deep red face and politely enquired about
it.  To which he replied: "I have inherited a certain part of your
anatomy, which causes me so much pain it reddens my face", then he
proceed to sit in a pile of snow.

"Enough said", Belviz mumbled.

Belviz always had a problem with saying his sons name, so called him
Sanataclaus or Santa, because he reminded him of a woman from the Ucker
tribe who had the same name.

Kid loved the name but made a slight adjustment from Sanataclaus to
Santa Claus.  Belviz was heartbroken to hear about the change of the
name and promptly committed suicide with a spruce shoe horn.  Saddend by
the death, Santa picked up the broken body, tears fell onto Belviz's
forehead as Santa buried his father under the snow.  He made a promise,
that from that tragic day forward he would make everyone happy.  For his
father.

And so from that day Santa Claus was to be known for the good he'd done.

Visiting children around the world, perching them on his knee, patting
them, asking them what they wanted for Christmas, but while he does
this, his face becomes redder and redder.

So next time you visit Santa's grotto spare a thought for his torn
ringpiece!



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