|Drawing by MissMonster|
Oh, you don't know who Krampus is?
Krampus is an example of how America's children are little spoiled namby pambies that need to zip up their bad-ass suits and harden the fuck up.
What do I mean?
In America, we believe that Santa comes around every Christmas Eve and delivers presents in the cover of darkness to all the good little boys and girls of the world. What happens to the bad kids? They get a lump of coal in their stocking instead of a present.
In Austria, Germany, and Switzerland believe something different. Instead of coal (I mean, if I woke up and saw coal, I'd be like...oh...oh...okay...), these boys and girls are told that Santa comes around, just like in America, and delivers presents to all the good children. However, where our stories deviate, where they WANDER TO DIFFERENT PATHS, if you will, is what happens to the bad children.
The bad children get to meet Krampus, a hellish goat-man/satyr-like figure. Krampus breaks into the bad kids' houses with a handful of switches, beats them, and then stick them in a sack and carries them away. To where? DUNNO! But clearly being threatened with Krampus is a much stronger incentive for good behavior than Santa's whole "coal" plan in America. Maybe that's why people keep complaining that American children are so spoiled and selfish--no satyrs showing up and beating them with switches?
Needless to say, I love Krampus. I'm not crazy enough to raise my kids on his legend. I just love the oddness of Krampus, the brutality, and the differences that the legend of Krampus demonstrates between our current culture, and the cultures of old.
That said, enjoy this letter to Krampus:
I understand that you are a hard-working guy, and this time of year is your busy season. I'm sure you're figuring out creative and inventive ways to terrorize the naughty children of Europe, but how would you feel about taking a trip to America?
Now, hear me out. America is the land of the free! It's the home of the brave! And it's the place where the most coddled and narcissistic children in the world spend their days whining because they got the red Furby when they wanted the PINK ONE!!!
If I may, I have a few deserving recommendations if and when you make your trip to the good ol' land of the red, white, and blue.
1) The kid that kept kicking the back of my chair in The Hobbit. Look, I'm glad he was excited to be there, but there's only so much constant kicking a person can take before they begin hatching revenge schemes involving a monster mask, an entire can of silly string, and a spray painted canoe.
2) My sister-in-law's obnoxious little brat. He came over to my house last week and ate all of the Twinkies I had stocked up from the collapse of Hostess/the end of the world. You just don't touch a man's golden, cream-filled sponge cakes. What if the world had ended? I'd have been out vital supplies.
3) That kid that barfed on me when I went to pick up my kid from the daycare. I mean...seriously. I was there for 5 minutes. How do you vomit into someone else's shoes...WHILE THEY'RE STILL WEARING THEM??
4) That kid that laughed at me when I went out the get breakfast the other day. I know "Rootie-Tootie Fresh and Fruity" is silly name, but I wasn't trying to make a funny voice. Something got caught in my throat while I was trying to talk.
5) My brother. I know, I know he's technically 35, and that's not really "child" territory. However, the man still goes to see Disney movies in the theater by himself. And I still haven't forgiven him for pantsing me in front of Jenny Alberson when I was 11.
6) My neighbor's dauchsund. Do you handle animals? Because, if so, this little bastard has shit on my newspaper for the last time.
I hope that you'll consider this my recommendations, and overall just consider coming and sharing the wealth of you've brought to Europe. There are many families that desperately need your services if you can find the time.
Have a great holiday, a merry Christmas, and enjoy your new slave labor,
Reginald Archover, Attorney at Law
P.S. I don't care what that douchebag Jackson says, my kids are well-behaved. I've taught them how you properly act in public. His dog's ass probably lost all of its hair from stress. It happens, especially with his little hell-spawn. Maybe consider adding them to your list, as well?
UPDATED: Apparently, this is my 100th post. So, y'know, that's kinda cool.