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Worst Christmas Post Ever?
Thu Dec 24, 2009 3:37pm

NRP - This holiday break should also give me the time I need to post a continuation of the current mission.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- THE FUTURE -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I have seen the devil, traveler.” Cross wheezed. “And his name is Muckymahn.”

Cross did not look at the human, but stared through him with the distant, glass-eyed gaze of someone who’d witnessed too many horrors. The traveler himself turned his eyes away from the beaten reploid dressed in dirty rags and instead looked upon the remnants of the Stomping Grounds. They appeared deserted now except for this one ghost, and every decaying structure lay half buried as though the earth itself had tried to reclaim it.

“Maquestan Crasher. It’s her fault, that violet-eyed witch. She it was who mocked God and brought this ruin upon us. Now it’s gone. It’s all gone.”

“W-what did she do?” the wayfaring stranger muttered.

Cross spat in disgust and snarled “Just wanted to cheer everyone up, she said. That minx. That harlot. Oh, we all laughed and cheered when she said it was time for the next Stomping Grounds Mud Fight. To my eternal shame I was among them, for who wouldn’t want to ogle bikini babes wrestling in mud? All slippery and grunting… maybe popping out of their tops…”

The traveler blinked. “Bikini babes?”

“Oh, but then someone remembered it was Christmas too. Rather than calmly reflecting on the birth of our savior as good people ought, instead they resorted to pagan traditions and built a snowman out of the mud to worship as their false god. Savage heathens. And dearly did they pay for their blasphemy.”


“Let’s call him Mucky the Mud Man.” Drej suggested, wiping perspiration from his brow. His dirty arm left a long smudge of mud across his forehead, making it match the rest of him. He’d been horsing around in the mud pit for hours by that point and was clothed more in mud than by swim trunks.

“That’s funny.” Maq said, putting the finishing touches on the faux snowman’s smile. She too was covered in mud.

“Hey guys, looks what I found!” Tycho Sanders yelled. As he ran up the other mercs spotted in the intern’s hands a tall Dickensian top hat.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” exclaimed Liska. “Where’d you find it?”

“When we moved all of Damien’s things I noticed it in his wardrobe.”

From the other side of the mud pit Sarge spotted what the human held and, having flashbacks of the body swapping incident, shouted “SANDERS, YOU IDIOT, DON’T-”

But it was to late. As soon as the old silk hat touched the head of the mudman it’s smile turned into a frown and in an inhuman voice screamed “I…LIVE…AGAIN!!!”


Mucky the Mudman
Was a beast without a soul
With an evil sneer he would instill fear
For his heart was black as coal

Mucky the Mudman
Was a pederast they say.
He was made of mud
And would drink the blood
Of all those he could slay.

There must have been black magic in that old silk hat they stole
‘Cause when they placed it on his head it began to take control.

Mucky the Mudman
Was as randy as could be
He would show great skill
With his carrot and drill
Any folks like you and me.

Thumpetty thump thump
Thumpetty thump thump
Look at Mucky go!
Thumpetty thump thump
Thumpetty thump thump
Raping to and fro!


Wind howled over the desert. Cross put his head in his hands and whispered “We couldn’t stop him. We opened the water valves and tried to melt the creature, but it only made more mud. It made Muckymahn larger… more powerful…”

A nearby pile of moist dirt bulged and rose. The traveler backed away with his hand on upon his weapon and screamed “It’s him!”

The bulge grew until clumps of mud fell away to reveal a large humanoid figure in dirty green and blue armor. After coughing for a while Axel asked the two “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to freak this guy out.” Cross answered casually.

“No, I mean what happened to that mud thing?”

“Oh.” Cross shrugged. “It blew up when Zeo shot his hat. Everybody else is still buried.”

The traveler stammered “W-wait… When did all this happen?”

“About twenty minutes ago.” Axel replied, knocking off more clumps of mud. “That’s why everything is still covered.”

Cross commented “Tycho started it. I say he should have to clean the whole place up.”

“Don’t you think the kid’s been punished enough already?” the Russian reploid asked. “He’ll be crapping carrot for a week.”

Mucky the Mudman
Was blown back into mere clay
But before he died he looked up and cried
“I’ll be back again someday!”

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