Murder most foul, Part Ω

(your soundtrack for this entry)

‘Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the ‘verse

It was cold, it was grim,

It was black as a hearse

[And if the rhyme scheme’s just made you

Puke into your purse

That’s just how I roll,

It’s a gift (and a curse)

So hang onto your naughty bits

And call for your nurse

‘Cos I’m just getting started

And it only gets worse]

Yes, Christmas was coming

Like a runaway tanker

Carl delivered our quest

We neglected to thank her

In fact Creepy’s first impulse

Was to verbally spank her

Then we learned of the Elves

Titled Nobbo and Wanker

 

They’d fled from the Workshop

And set things in motion

Seems our world is a bubble

Adrift in the ocean

And when it pops, take a bow,

For all reality ends

That means you, me, your mother

And our wacky new friends

 

And we couldn’t have that, could we,

Creepy and I?

No, for we’re super-sidekicks

Though I’m not certain why

“Not on our watch,” we said

Thrusting chests proudly

So we came up with a plan

While Ian ate loudly

 

It was clear to us both, now

That something was hinky

And when you add the Apocalypse

The whole thing turned stinky

So we took on the identities

Of the renegade Elves

And set out with a purpose:

To save the world [and ourselves]

 

St. Nick, in the meantime

Had woes of his own

Death commandeered Rudolph

And away they had flown:

 

“Now Famine, now Conquest, now War and Yours Truly,

It’s the end of the world, boys, let’s get unruly!”

 

After standing around

In the Diner’s carpark

Father Christmas’s mood

Began to grow dark

[He was standing behind Death’s

Sick Pale Horse

When it lifted its tail

And ejected by force

All over his special new

Christmas Eve boots

He damn near pulled out

His beard by the roots]

But that’s nothing to how

The Four Horsemen were feeling

When they felt End Times receding

And causality healing

For Creepy and I

Had stepped into the fray

Leaving Nobbo and Wanker

At loose Christmas Day

The Apocalypse cancelled

And catastrophe missed

We were already heroes

And the Horsemen were pissed

They flew back to the Diner

Accused Santa of stealing

Then stormed off in a huff

And left the big fellow reeling

By the time he had finished

His rounds double-time

Faux-Nobbo and Wanker

Had paid for their crime

[It hadn’t been bad

Or if it was, I forget

All our limbs were intact

And our trousers weren’t wet]

 

So then came the showdown

We strode in through the doors

Of that bleak Arctic sweatshop

And confronted The Claus

And so Creepy told him

That the scam was all done

That we were onto his tricks

And were stopping the fun

We knew that the presents

And the sleigh were a con

So Noël and his

Slave underclass could go on

And indeed the sole way

To avoid Armageddon

Was to eradicate Christmas

[At this, St. Nick reddened]

“Now hear me well

My mouthy young friend

For I laugh at your threats

And there shall be no end

“To this cycle of labour

And chastisement infernal

For I’m Father Christmas

And I am eternal.

“Do you think that the Elves

And reindeer will agree

To consignment to nothingness

Just to be free?

“You’re a fool, you’re quite mad

On your head you were dropped

When your mother gave birth-”

And that’s where his rant stopped

For Ian the reindeer

Had appeared, fury blinding

With fifty-odd rangifer solis

invicti behind him

“If you think we won’t

Welcome the void like a friend

Rather than watch this world

Come to an end

“Then you are the madman

And you are the fool

You’re naught but a parasite

Unfit to rule

“You witnessed the Horsemen

You know we’re not bluffing

If the alternative’s this

Then we’d rather be nothing.”

It happened quite quickly

Consensus achieved

If the world was in danger

Then they’d all have to leave

Santa was severed

Like removing a cyst

And kicking and screaming

Thrown into the mists

And with him went all

His dark organisation

[And with it, incidentally,

The threat of negation]

And lastly went Nobbo,

And Wanker, and Ian*

Who I fancy had finally

Found peace in his being

And as they faded from sight

I heard Ian sigh

“Happy Christmas to all,

And to this world…

…Goodbye.”

 

 


* Also Yool was there,

But despite being buff

Simply being a Christmas tree

Wasn’t enough

To consign him to nullity

Abs all strangely sublime

So he came home with us

Like he’d been the whole time.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
This entry was posted in Chuck Dickens’s “A Christmas Carl”, Creepy and Hatboy Save the World and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Murder most foul, Part Ω

  1. dreameling says:

    Hatboy and Creepy saved Christmas (and the universe) by destroying Christmas. There’s Christmas spirit for you! This may very well be the first story I’ve ever read (or otherwise experienced) where Father Christmas is actually killed. I find that cool.

    Now, I get that in order to have a proper dramatic payoff you need sacrifice, but did Ian really have to go? Why not just get rid of Santa and call it a day? And are they really dead, or just floating formless and projectionless somewhere in slo-time? And, again, Ian? Come on!

    Btw., what exactly were the conditions for the Apocalypse?

    • dreameling says:

      PS. I liked the poem form. Definitely not what I expected, but there you go. I’m no expert on rhyming schemes or metrical patterns, but you had a nice flow throughout and the semi-consistent rhyming was funny, so I thought it worked. (Plus, modern poetry doesn’t have to rhyme anyways.)

      As a conclusion to a pretty long and epic short story, though, the poem felt a bit abrupt or rushed, but it was certainly unexpected and made a nice contrast to Creepy’s wall-of-text rant from the previous episode, so I’d say it fits the semi-postmodernist reader-fingering meta-something feel of the Creepy & Hatboy ‘verse quite nicely. Also, you struck a nice balance between funny and somber. (Re: Ian!)

      • stchucky says:

        Additionally, in pure logistical behind-the-scenes terms, I set out to write this whole thing in real-time and without additional drafting or edits, and I decided to finish it on Christmas Day (came out on Christmas morning and wrote the poem in a single sitting), and it turns out I had a bunch of other stuff to do Christmas Day and leading up to it, so there it goes. I did get a few of those long pieces written ahead of time, because I couldn’t do a long writing session on the 23rd, let alone the 24th.

        But yeah, it was an abrupt end and that was planned, not forced. Just so you know. Like you say, the lengthy exposition leading up and then the extended deconstruction in Part 19 set the foundation for a swift and Christmassy ending, which even more importantly meant that I could do it colourfully but without a lot of technobabble. Leave it in the readers’ heads.

      • dreameling says:

        This is almost like DVD extras! (Something else that you can do in blog format but not really in print.)

    • stchucky says:

      Now, I get that in order to have a proper dramatic payoff you need sacrifice, but did Ian really have to go? Why not just get rid of Santa and call it a day?

      Well, to put it simply, Santa wasn’t the problem. Nobbo and Wanker were the problem – by closing the metaphorical circuit and returning to the Workshop, they would cause the End of the World. So the entire circuit had to be cut out.

      That means the entire concept of Christmas, as parasite-meme (I mean “meme” in the actual meaning of the term, not as in “a picture of a cat with text under it, shared on the Internet”) affixed to our universe, had to go, leaving behind only Christmas as it actually already exists.

      And, sadly, Ian was a part of that. There was no continuity-supported way to remove Santa’s Elves without taking the entire rangifer solis invicti species with them. It was, however, a worthy end.

      And are they really dead, or just floating formless and projectionless somewhere in slo-time?

      Well, therein lies the rub. By every standard of this universe, they’re gone completely. To speculate along those lines is to invite questions of the afterlife, which is what Doc Brown would call “some serious shit”.

      Btw., what exactly were the conditions for the Apocalypse?

      And that’d be telling.

      Also, would involve me making them up, which would ultimately be a letdown in comparison to anything you might imagine under your own steam.

  2. dreameling says:

    That means the entire concept of Christmas, as parasite-meme (I mean “meme” in the actual meaning of the term, not as in “a picture of a cat with text under it, shared on the Internet”) affixed to our universe, had to go, leaving behind only Christmas as it actually already exists.

    Somehow that makes perfect sense. (Although I’m assuming that your Christmas parasite is some kind of pan-dimensional meta-existential supermeme rather than an Earth meme, since our real-world Christmas is itself a meme or a collection of memes.)

    Also, would involve me making them up, which would ultimately be a letdown in comparison to anything you might imagine under your own steam.

    Way to break your reader’s illusions, man!

    • stchucky says:

      I’m assuming that your Christmas parasite is some kind of pan-dimensional meta-existential supermeme rather than an Earth meme, since our real-world Christmas is itself a meme or a collection of memes.

      Well, exactly. I imagine it something like a consciousness (purely in our terms) that affixed itself to our universe and then grew by feeding off ideas that were already around (the solstice, early Christianity, not sure).

      Plus, of course, this is entirely Earth-centric and based on the past couple of thousand years, whereas this parasite could have been around for billions – since time has no meaning – and could exist pretty much anywhere in all the layers of reality. Other planets wouldn’t have a comparable festival or traditions, but they might.

      Was this played out simultaneously everywhere? Was Creepy and Hatboy’s (our?) world just the place where Nobbo and Wanker happened to perform their “escape”, and thus the solution applied all over?

      That’s when it all just gets too big.

  3. dreameling says:

    Was this played out simultaneously everywhere? Was Creepy and Hatboy’s (our?) world just the place where Nobbo and Wanker happened to perform their “escape”, and thus the solution applied all over?

    Forget about speculations about the afterlife, that is what I would call “some serious shit”. And, indeed, the perfect place for an author to stop and just let the ramifications reverberate inside a reader’s head.

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