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Twas the night before Fallout Christmas; Narrated by Jesse Winters
Topic Started: Dec 25 2009, 08:04 AM (144 Views)
Cewebwalz
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Henshin a go-go baby
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Gather round kids!" Yelled out Jesse Winters, with a red christmas hat atop of his Afro. He walked into the room, and tossed a large duffel bag casually to the corner (filled with presents of course). Soon enough, ten, no twenty! children of all sizes and ages came. "Now now Kids, sit down, sit down! You want to here a story, right?" The children all nodded and laughed, and sat around the large chair sitting next to the fireplace (where Jesse sat down). "Now, this one my uncle told me when I was younger. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. And would you all please try to be quiet? It's a rather long tale."


"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a radiated creature that probably came from hell and killed ten men in it's day was stirring, not even one of those mother fucking rad-mouses.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with a old rusty staple gun that nearly kills you every time you god damn use it,
In hopes that Nicholas the raider king would stay the fuck away from there house.

The children were nestled all snug in the cellar, with daddy on watch duty with a revolver in case any raider thought he was going to strike gold,
While visions of monstrosities devoured their friends in their heads.
And mamma with her bowie knife, and daddy with his .44 Magnum,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Daddy sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away he sprang to the window, the mother fucker ran like the flash,
He tored open the window and threw up his six shooter not wearing any pants

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen raider blood
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to Daddies wondering eyes should appear,
But a big ass caravan, and 8 tiny raiders

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be that fucker Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now John the Butcher! now, Freddy two fingers! now, Jackie and Victoria!
On, Canine! On, Custer! on, on Honner bound Johnson and Biker Badass Boff!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now murder! murder! Murder em all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a mindfield, and heads flew to the sky.
So up to the house-top the courser the organs they flew
With a 1000 caps worth of weapons and booze!

And then, in a twinkling, dad heard on the roof
The tapping and the smearing of body parts and spleens.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came the top half of Nicholas with a bound.

He was covered in blood, from his head to his lower torso,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of guns he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a motherfucker, just lying there with his pack.

His eyes-how they rotted! his skin half blown off!
His cheeks were like rad scorpion shit, his nose like a vomited up turd!
His queer little mouth was drawn up like his fat asshole,
And the beard of his chin was as bloody as what used to be a hoe.

The stump of a joint he held tight in his teeth,
He had a ratty little face and a fat ass beer gut,
That shook when he fell, like a bowlful of vomit!

He was fat and smelly, a disgusting little raider,
And daddy cried with joy when he saw him !
His eyeballs fell out of there sockets and with a peice of shrapnel in his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word (thank god!), but Daddy went straight to work
He looted his sack and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of Nicks nose,
And grasping him tight, Nicks body flew out the window!

He fell onto his caravan, and Daddy gave the raiders a whistle,
And away any survivors flew, faster than a speeding bullet
But Daddy explained,
"YOU MOTHER FUCKERS COME BACK AGAIN AND I'LL RIP YOU A NEW ASSHOLE NEXT CHRISTMAS TOO!"



Silence happened, as Jesse waited. "Well? What did you think?"

One brave little child stood up, and started to speak. "Although your story blowed, we'd still like presents please".



FIN
Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist
8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC-

Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator
5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
Quote:
 
Lmgthev:� Like tbh I agree CP is not the golden boy at all
Lmgthev:� You're like John Candy from Cool Runnings
Lmgthev:� Washed up has been who teaches the newcomers the trade� :D

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"What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan
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