It is very interesting to see something that you have created over many years grow in ways that are outside of you as the creator.
The entire pumpkin mythology has slowly grown into a strange legacy with its own characters and inner workings over the last 15 years or so. Granted, most people have yet to really get a good taste of this, but those that know me personally have.
So what happens when the myth gets bigger than the creator? Other people take the concepts and run with them…not always with great results, but sometimes with truly spectacular additions to the cannon.
It is the latter that I present to you now. Our good friend over at Dambreaker (good blog, check it out if you have yet to do so) has taken the pumpkin god Willis and the greater demon overlord Froktar, mixed them up with the band Six Minute Century and created a very interesting version of the Night Before Christmas.
Here is his poem, enjoy:
Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the stage
Every creature was stirring, in a psychopathic rage.
The pumpkins were hung by the fillers with care,
In hopes that St. Willis soon would be there.
The children were shaking in fear as they looked under their beds,
While visions of Froktar tortured their heads.
And ma in her fatigue laying flat on her back,
Cuz I just screwed her brains out backstage for a quckie night cap.
When out on the back room there was such a crash,
Just before I slammed my joystick in to the old woman’s ass.
Away to the stage I flew like The Flash,
Pulled up on my zipper before her blunt turned to ash.
The moon on the breast of the groupie dressed like whore
Gave the lustre of my body objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a pumpkin ablaze and the beginning of fear.
With a fetus as the driver, who wiggled amongst us,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Willis
More splendid than demons that punish to shame,
And he cursed, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Frenchman! now, Darren! now, Chucky and Dr. Froth!
On, Squamby! On, Froktar! on Centurions and the rest of you rot!
To the top of the people! to everyone licking my balls!
Now lick away, Lick away, Lick away all!”
He was dressed all in the flesh of his victims, from head to his foot,
And his clothes covered with leather and studs to boot.
A bundle of goodies he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pimp, when he whipped out his sack.
His eyes- how they twinkled! how he begin to feel Mary!
His growl was a fright as he busted her cherry!
The bloody drool from his mouth nobody could’ve known,
When he blasted his wad on her chin as white as the snow.
The stumpy devoured body that he held tight in his teeth,
And the lost soul it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a content face from the offering he did eat,
The pumpkin god snarled as he showed off his teeth
He spoke not a word, but went back to work,
And continued on as I felt that I had given myself quite a jerk.
And watched him finish like poetry and prose ,
And suddenly his forefinger and pinky into the air arose!
He sprang up in the night air with his trophies of souls,
And away they all flew in a fury, screaming out of control.
But I heard him exclaim, as he vanished from sight,
“Frothy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
–Joel Haskell, 2011
Haha…that is awesome. I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did. Now go read his blog…