Nov 2021
There are countless stories about love, triumph, and discovery. The story you’re about to read. Is about none of those things.
In a village not long ago, underneath a breath of snow. There lived a family of kinder sorts. Albeit slow, all good sports.
And every year the took a tree, from yonder woods, cut at the knee. They dragged it home, their latest ****. And propped it up against its will.
Then they’d sing and set it to light. Confused and scared this tree a fright. They’d sing a song and praise it’s glory. But this tree was to have a different story.
Along with more snow there came too a wind. A silence unknown began to descend. Across the valley, up and into the wood. What was to come would harbor no good.
It’s tracks were cloven like that of a goat. It leapt upon rooftops, mocking the moat. It’s hoof falls muffled by tops of white cotton. It took scent of the air, and found it quite rotten.
It made its way from cottage to cottage. It saw a man take a fruitcake to ****** frottage. It witnessed a woman snorting up snow. While another devoured her up from below.
Disgusted, our creature continued to search. It witnessed a friar defile a perch. It saw a young man go to bed with a priest. And four old lady’s that ******* about yeast.
Ole Mrs Goodhead was down on her knees. While men came and went offering cheese. Her husband the blind poor crippled fool. Thought he got lucky while a goat ate his tool.
Our creature repulsed, threw up on his tongue. And just about then the church bells were rung. In all the commotion he found his query. That one little tree, so tired and weary.
He kicked in the door surprising his host. Standing there naked, his **** between toast. Our creature scoffed and took hold of the tree. “You perverts and freaks, this goes with me!”
Their mother outback getting reamed, the children shouted, shrieked, and screamed. Creature cradling this tree under arm, ran into the wood away from the farm.
The townsfolk rallied, with axes and torches. Leaping from *** swings that sway on their porches. Naked and scared they marched toward the wood. Not a one of these folk knew what they should.
“You tree stealing goat you dare steal our hope. We brought along **** and a whole lot of rope.” They chanted and cursed threatening ****. You would’ve thought there’d be no escape.
Through the wind and the snow they soon saw a light. Clutching their axes and **** cheeks tight. They witnessed the creature replant the tree. Then it unzipped it trousers and started to ***.
The steam was rising from out of the snow. At the foot of this tree that then started to glow. It’s branches stretched and it grew a bit taller. Away from the *******, the drinking, and squalor.
The creature turned, addressing the court. It let out grunt, a huff, and a snort. “Who there among you dares to do this? To steal away this tree where I ****.
I spent my life ******* on trees. From rivers to mountains I **** where I please. Until one Christmas drunk off some cider. I collapsed and stumbled and woke up beside her.
I rewarded her presence by melting her snow, she paid me back with a warm growing glow. So every year I come here for *******. Getting just drunk enough to keep me from missing.”
The townsfolk still naked, some of them dead. Let out an “oh” and lowered their heads. “Please beast forgive us, we know not what we do. We’re ripe with chlamydia, and haven’t a clue.”
The creature still frothing and somehow still *******. Knew what it was the townsfolk were missing. He let go of his tool and reached his hands. Still naked and scared, they met his demands.
They started to sing they started out low, then their screeching started to grow. It cut through the valley like a wet **** in bed. Scaring the children, the wolves, and the dead.
Many years later, that tree grew in height. On Christmas Eve, they bathe in it’s light. They gathered around it ******* and singing. Throughout the valley the bells would be ringing.
Then one Christmas they’d gathered to see just how tall was their ******* tree. A storm rolled in, filled them with dread. Then it fell over and now they’re all dead.
In a village not long ago, underneath a breath of snow. There lived a family of kinder sorts. Albeit slow, all good sports.
And every year the took a tree, from yonder woods, cut at the knee. They dragged it home, their latest ****. And propped it up against its will.
Then they’d sing and set it to light. Confused and scared this tree a fright. They’d sing a song and praise it’s glory. But this tree was to have a different story.
Along with more snow there came too a wind. A silence unknown began to descend. Across the valley, up and into the wood. What was to come would harbor no good.
It’s tracks were cloven like that of a goat. It leapt upon rooftops, mocking the moat. It’s hoof falls muffled by tops of white cotton. It took scent of the air, and found it quite rotten.
It made its way from cottage to cottage. It saw a man take a fruitcake to ****** frottage. It witnessed a woman snorting up snow. While another devoured her up from below.
Disgusted, our creature continued to search. It witnessed a friar defile a perch. It saw a young man go to bed with a priest. And four old lady’s that ******* about yeast.
Ole Mrs Goodhead was down on her knees. While men came and went offering cheese. Her husband the blind poor crippled fool. Thought he got lucky while a goat ate his tool.
Our creature repulsed, threw up on his tongue. And just about then the church bells were rung. In all the commotion he found his query. That one little tree, so tired and weary.
He kicked in the door surprising his host. Standing there naked, his **** between toast. Our creature scoffed and took hold of the tree. “You perverts and freaks, this goes with me!”
Their mother outback getting reamed, the children shouted, shrieked, and screamed. Creature cradling this tree under arm, ran into the wood away from the farm.
The townsfolk rallied, with axes and torches. Leaping from *** swings that sway on their porches. Naked and scared they marched toward the wood. Not a one of these folk knew what they should.
“You tree stealing goat you dare steal our hope. We brought along **** and a whole lot of rope.” They chanted and cursed threatening ****. You would’ve thought there’d be no escape.
Through the wind and the snow they soon saw a light. Clutching their axes and **** cheeks tight. They witnessed the creature replant the tree. Then it unzipped it trousers and started to ***.
The steam was rising from out of the snow. At the foot of this tree that then started to glow. It’s branches stretched and it grew a bit taller. Away from the *******, the drinking, and squalor.
The creature turned, addressing the court. It let out grunt, a huff, and a snort. “Who there among you dares to do this? To steal away this tree where I ****.
I spent my life ******* on trees. From rivers to mountains I **** where I please. Until one Christmas drunk off some cider. I collapsed and stumbled and woke up beside her.
I rewarded her presence by melting her snow, she paid me back with a warm growing glow. So every year I come here for *******. Getting just drunk enough to keep me from missing.”
The townsfolk still naked, some of them dead. Let out an “oh” and lowered their heads. “Please beast forgive us, we know not what we do. We’re ripe with chlamydia, and haven’t a clue.”
The creature still frothing and somehow still *******. Knew what it was the townsfolk were missing. He let go of his tool and reached his hands. Still naked and scared, they met his demands.
They started to sing they started out low, then their screeching started to grow. It cut through the valley like a wet **** in bed. Scaring the children, the wolves, and the dead.
Many years later, that tree grew in height. On Christmas Eve, they bathe in it’s light. They gathered around it ******* and singing. Throughout the valley the bells would be ringing.
Then one Christmas they’d gathered to see just how tall was their ******* tree. A storm rolled in, filled them with dread. Then it fell over and now they’re all dead.
