Hey 3.5 readers.
So, as you know, I’m a hostage of the yeti, but he is allowing me to interview my next guest because he is such a fan of his work.
I’m not a fan per se but, you know, the blog must come first and I need the clicks.
Without further ado…Krampus.
Krampus: Vile Ancient Yuletide Demon/Denier of the Power of Facial Scrubs
BQB: Your Evil Hornyness, welcome.
KRAMPUS: Thank you, BQB. I’d say it’s good to be here but I’ve been thrown out of places much classier than your pitiful blog. Hell, I had way more than 3.5 followers in the olden days when computers hadn’t even been invented.
BQB: Right. So, can you tell my 3.5 followers who you are? I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just not sure that they have heard of you.
KRAMPUS: That’s cool, bitch. First of all, I am hella old. I date back before pre-Christian times. Second, I’m the antithesis of everyone’s favorite fat man, that rotund wishy washy do-gooder Santa Clause, or as I call him, “Old Saint Dick.” See what I did there?
KRAMPUS: Because he’s really Old Saint Nick but I called him Old Saint Dick because I think he’s a dick.
BQB: Punny. But we all know what Santa does. He brings toys to all the good little girls and boys of the world. What do you do?
KRAMPUS: Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone and stop the presses, Cochise. Santa does not bring toys to good girls and boys, so let me just straighten out your bent propaganda there.
BQB: He doesn’t?
KRAMPUS: No, he doesn’t. Oh sure, he’s got you all hoodwinked with all the, “He sees you when you’re sleeping” and the naughty/nice list but really, honestly, truly, we all know that shit is a scam. That fat bastard will bring a toy to a kid no matter what and he does not give a shit whether or not that kid has been naughty or nice.
KRAMPUS: You know it, bitch. Look, parents love to get their misbehaving little turds to straighten up by warning them that they will get jack shit when Santa finds out all the heinous shit they’ve done, but Santa doesn’t care enough to actually cross-reference a naughty/nice list of every damn child in the entire world. And you think the elves are going to help him do it? Those little freaks are union. They have like nineteen smoke breaks a day and the fat man is lucky if he can get those pointy eared butt goblins to do a half-hour’s worth of work in a day where he pays them for eight hours at a rate of fifty bucks an hour.
KRAMPUS: I know. If I were that fat ass crushed red velvet suit wearing diabetes patient, the first thing I would do is send all of those Keebler cookie rejects packing and ship the entire North Pole operation to China.
BQB: I think we’ve gotten off topic. You still haven’t told my 3.5 readers what you do.
KRAMPUS: Well, nothing right now, but back in ancient times, I did Santa’s job.
BQB: Oh. So you delivered toys to good little girls and boys?
KRAMPUS: Say what? Bitch, please. If a kid was good, I walked my demon ass right on by that kid’s house without giving him a reward. You’re supposed to be good and to channel my inner Chris Rock, you’re not supposed to get a “cookie” for doing something “you’re supposed to do.”
BQB: Oh. And the bad kids?
KRAMPUS: Beaten with chains.
KRAMPUS: Yup. “Hey Gunter and Greta,” all the ancient Germanic parents would say. “Be good and do your chores and clean up the cave and wipe all the moss off the rocks and don’t talk back or else Krampus will throw you in his sack, beat you with his chains, then drag you off to Hell.”
BQB: This interview has taken a turn for the worse.
KRAMPUS: Oh please, don’t feed me that namby-pamby bleeding heart shit. The ancient holiday season was fun. Ancient folk would even sing songs. “Krampus Carols” we used to call ’em.
BQB: Please don’t sing one.
KRAMPUS: “Jingle chains, jingle chains, Krampus has got his chains…”
KRAMPUS: “Over the river and through the woods and into Krampus’ sack we go…”
KRAMPUS: “…it’s slung over his back and down through the cracks of the earth and into the underworld we go-ah-oh!”
BQB: We get the picture. So obviously, you don’t do that anymore.
KRAMPUS: A shame really. So many children deserve a good in-sack, chain beating.
BQB: Wow. OK, just for the record and not just because my lawyer is advising me to say this…I do not condone or approve of violence against children in any way, shape or form.
KRAMPUS: Fine, fine. We can nix the chains and the sacks and the dragging naughty children off to Hell now that we live in quote unquote modern “enlightened” times. But at the very least, that little shit that keeps pulling his sister’s hair and treats his parents like cash machines and personal servants should not get a present from the fat man, don’t you agree?
BQB: Eh…kids are kids. Sometimes the worst kids grow up, realize the difference between right and wrong and live good lives despite youthful naughtiness.
KRAMPUS: Yeah, and like I said, no more sacks, chains, and/or draggings off to the underworld, but maybe instead of a new bicycle, Tommy can pay his penance for bullying all those nerdy kids at school by being forced to watch a week’s worth of incredibly dry documentaries. “No Tommy. No presents for you. No trip to Grandma’s house to play with toys and stuff your face with cookies. You will now watch programs about how wicker furniture is made until New Year’s Eve.
BQB: I’m not really for it but I guess it is way better than the chains and the sack and so on.
KRAMPUS: I’m a hip demon. I get with the times. I can find all kinds of new age punishments that twenty-first century hipster millennial parents will be down with. “What? You didn’t do your homework? No presents for you until you eat this bowl of vegan, gluten-free tofu.”
BQB: I think I know the answer already but I have to ask. Why aren’t you as well-known as Santa?
KRAMPUS: Ah. Where do I start? Rumor has it that Hitler had me banned. I can’t confirm or deny that because we evil demons have to stick together, but between you, me and your 3.5 readers, I was such a shit heel that even the dude who was all like, “Hey, maybe shipping off six million people to their doom isn’t such a bad idea” heard about me and was all like, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Krampus! Enough with the chains and the sack beatings already!”
BQB: So it was Hitler?
KRAMPUS: Eh, you could say that but really it was commercialization. The gift and card industry. Those advertising pricks on Madison Avenue. I mean, really, around this time of year, whose face do you want to see on your box of cookies, or on your soda-pop bottle or on your television? Me and my jagged razor sharp teeth of Fatty McGoody-Two-Shoes, what with his chubby angelic cheeks and his professor glasses and his red suit and his warm smile and his overall aura of, “Hey, you all do your best, so here’s some free toys and shit and you know what? I’ll even let you naughty kids fool yourselves into thinking you were nice all year long because that’s just what the Grandpa of the World does.”
BQB: Well, when you put it like that…
KRAMPUS: There’s just no way I can compete with that adorable walking “Before Jenny Craig” model. I might be getting soft in my old age because there are times when even I want to let bygones and bygones and give old Fatty McManTits a big hug.
BQB: Why don’t you?
KRAMPUS: Eh, Mrs. Claus and I used to date. Santa is kind of a dick about it. It’s all very awkward. I’ve said too much.
BQB: It’s cool. Only 3.5 people read this blog anyway. So what do you do with all your free time now that you have hung up your sack and chains?
KRAMPUS: Oh, let’s see. What don’t I do? Yoga. Knitting. A little bit of crocheting. Spin class. Pottery Barn. I can’t even get within five feet of a Pottery Barn without destroying my credit rating, let me tell you.
BQB: They do have some nice stuff at Pottery Barn. Krampus, that’s all the time we have and I’d like to thank you for this interview, but I won’t, because it was truly awful and will no doubt give my 3.5 readers nightmares, which they don’t deserve because they are all nice people. Before you go, do you have any last words?
KRAMPUS: Don’t be good because an obese, raging pizza addict at the top of the world will give you a free video game if you do, because he will give it to you even if you’re a total asshat anyway. Instead, be good because you’re supposed to be good. And if you’re good for the right reason, then good things will come to you throughout your life.
BQB: Wisdom found in a surprising place. Thank you for reading, 3.5 readers. Good night and Merry Christmas.