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TTS2022 An ATS Christmas Carol ---Just for fun---
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An ATS Christmas Carol
Dear friends, this is a work of fiction, but any resemblance to actual members was wholly intentional; if your name appears in my story, I’m sorry. If I left you out, I’m sorry too. This tale is a silly fragment of an underdone potato for and about all of us. Merry Christmas, and especially to the ATS scrooges!
DBCowboy was dead, dead as Epstein, free speech, or the phone line in that one Area 51 Art Bell podcast; of that we were all certain. For one, President Hunter Biden had been busted filming porn again in the Black House and DB hadn’t made one comment about the evil left on carewemust’s Monday, December 24, 2035 thread. Augustus’s crabs had inexplicably come back. Five Gunters were sighted fleeing the greater CHAZ/CHOP area, and to top it all off, there was a sudden surplus of food and whiskey in DB’s local grocery store which, per the 10 CHAZ Commandments, was quickly distributed among the homeless at the grocers’ expense.
It must be clearly understood how dead DB was in order to fully gauge Augustus’s surprise when the ghost of DB thundered down his basement steps right when he was set to extract the adrenochrome from his nightly victim.
That face, the very same he had always known when they had not-been in Vegas, not-engaged in vile criminal activity. DB in his pig-mask, his prodigious figure poured into a nylon batman suit, girth encompassed by weighty chains which dragged as he staggered down the steps, rattling the walls as he went.
“What in cthulhu’s name do you think you’re doing here?” cried Augustus, “Can’t you see I’m busy, and you’re dead?” The inert form on the stone slab suggested the critical moment for harvesting adrenochrome had been lost. Signs of age started to form around Augustus’s eyes, which fixed DB with a withering glare, as gore slowly dripped from his gloved hands.
“I’ve come to warn thee to change thy ways,” moaned DB, “or suffer the same fate which befell me. It’s been an eternity since I’ve enjoyed even the smallest comfort. The torment is unrelenting. There’s no bacon on the other side!” The last revelation came out in a wail.
Augustus shot the ghost of DB a withering look. “Your eternal penance, as sad a story as it is, has nothing to do with me and my rituals. All that good torture, gone to waste.” He shook his head in disgust. “Now, unless you’ve brought the van full of our favorite cargo, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
DB protested, “But, heed, three spirits will visit you tonight…”
Augustus shook his head. “Not anymore, they won’t,” he cut in “you interrupted the ceremony before the summoning.”
DB continued, “for without the spirit’s guidance, you will surely meet doom. Look at me and weep; this could be you. This could be your fate.”
A scary thought indeed. Augustus fixed his friend with a scrutinizing look, taking in the shiny pink mask, the beady desperate eyes, the massive bulky frame testing the limits of the esconsing latex, fettered and weighted by padlocks and chains.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Augustus spoke slowly and carefully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me..” He motioned at the figure in front of him “I have a mess to clean up.”
Moaning, shaking the earth with every step, DB mounted the stairs. “Three spirits, Augustus; when the clock strikes one the first shall appear.”
“Speaking of spirits,” Augustus muttered to himself, “could use a good old fashioned right now.” He was humming to himself as he scrubbed away, ghosts and reckonings were the last things on his mind.
At the stroke of one, Augustus sat straight up in bed. He couldn’t believe his eyes--sitting bemusedly at the foot of his bed was John Lithgow wearing a pointy tinfoil hat and a white coat. “Phage,” he said, relieved. “It’s only you--no ghoulish apparition awaits me; thank cthulhu.”
“I am the ghost of ATS past.” the phantom spoke. “I have come to show you visions forgotten and unravel the threads of time.”
Augustus blinked and found himself in an underground bunker. He was in a large waiting room along with an animated crowd. Groups of three, five, or more were gathered, excitedly talking and the room was abuzz. Among the oddest but most honorable mix of men and women were grays, elves, yetis, reptilians, men in black, dogmen, and machine elves, as well as other creatures even Augustus didn’t know. There were seven halls leading off into infinity, and through the nearest open door was the cern collider; through another could be seen a quantum computer; and yet another the Vatican library; here looked like a scene from Guantanamo Bay. An all-seeing eye stared down at him from a mural on the ceiling.
“This,” said Phage, “is ATS past. How cheerful were we; how merry! How ready to deny ignorance!”
A drone swept through, stopped briefly to spy on the two of them, seemed to disappear then reappear, and sped off. Augustus watched as a druid and two men in black stepped out of one of the rooms and into another. Around him the conversations whirled. He recognized so many of the faces, and there was a young Auggie (looking just the same, thanks to all the adrenochrome) insisting to a skeptical crowd that masons don’t rule the world. Entirely. Yet.
Phage led him down the halls and in the rooms Augustus could see maps of Atlantis and middle earth; one room was full of flat globes, and in another DTOM was furiously busy writing manner violations. He saw Byrd lecturing on ancient Egypt. In one room three idiots were baking cookies.
“Enough, spirit! I’ve seen enough. Have pity on a man who missed his latest adrenochrome dose and escort me back home; I cannot bear a second longer. These merry days of yore and ignorance denying do much to remind me of times changed. It hurts my black stony heart to see.”
Phage, who had stopped for a existential debate with a group of grays, reluctantly agreed to lead him back to his bed to await the apparition of ATS present.
Augustus had only just slipped off to sleep when a sudden and hearty laugh awoke him. He was astonished to see olaru12, bearded and robed, pointing a camera his way.
“Follow me, and I will reveal to you the true state of ATS present,” boomed olaru12. “Here, take this.” He handed Augustus a small dried husk. “Peyote,” he explained when he saw Augustus’s questioning face.
“I need peyote in order to see the visions of ATS present?” Augustus was incredulous. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I have to work the day after Christmas.”
“No, we don’t need it, thought it might be a good icebreaker.” olaru12 plucked the dried plant out of Augustus’s hand and pocketed it. “Let’s go! Take hold of my robe.”
Through a whirl of a series of tubes, Augustus and olaru12 flew till they came to a bottomless pit of mud. In the pit, a rabble of voices rang out sharply.
They rushed by, mud splattering them as they passed, and came to a small but lovely shed. There a lovely little elf known as NightStar was holding court. Augustus heard “God Bless us, everyone” before rushing on faster through the cold and into dark alleys and moldy basements. Finally, at a frigid underpass in the grimiest part of town, olaru12 pulled back his robe revealing a horrible, pitiful, diseased imbecile child.
“God. What is that?” Augustus was shook to the core at the sight.
“This,” olaru12’s face had taken on a menacing form “this is the bastard child of ATS. His name is Q. We have engendered and borne, nourished and raised this degenerate. Take a good look, Augustus, for you, too
Dear friends, this is a work of fiction, but any resemblance to actual members was wholly intentional; if your name appears in my story, I’m sorry. If I left you out, I’m sorry too. This tale is a silly fragment of an underdone potato for and about all of us. Merry Christmas, and especially to the ATS scrooges!
DBCowboy was dead, dead as Epstein, free speech, or the phone line in that one Area 51 Art Bell podcast; of that we were all certain. For one, President Hunter Biden had been busted filming porn again in the Black House and DB hadn’t made one comment about the evil left on carewemust’s Monday, December 24, 2035 thread. Augustus’s crabs had inexplicably come back. Five Gunters were sighted fleeing the greater CHAZ/CHOP area, and to top it all off, there was a sudden surplus of food and whiskey in DB’s local grocery store which, per the 10 CHAZ Commandments, was quickly distributed among the homeless at the grocers’ expense.
It must be clearly understood how dead DB was in order to fully gauge Augustus’s surprise when the ghost of DB thundered down his basement steps right when he was set to extract the adrenochrome from his nightly victim.
That face, the very same he had always known when they had not-been in Vegas, not-engaged in vile criminal activity. DB in his pig-mask, his prodigious figure poured into a nylon batman suit, girth encompassed by weighty chains which dragged as he staggered down the steps, rattling the walls as he went.
“What in cthulhu’s name do you think you’re doing here?” cried Augustus, “Can’t you see I’m busy, and you’re dead?” The inert form on the stone slab suggested the critical moment for harvesting adrenochrome had been lost. Signs of age started to form around Augustus’s eyes, which fixed DB with a withering glare, as gore slowly dripped from his gloved hands.
“I’ve come to warn thee to change thy ways,” moaned DB, “or suffer the same fate which befell me. It’s been an eternity since I’ve enjoyed even the smallest comfort. The torment is unrelenting. There’s no bacon on the other side!” The last revelation came out in a wail.
Augustus shot the ghost of DB a withering look. “Your eternal penance, as sad a story as it is, has nothing to do with me and my rituals. All that good torture, gone to waste.” He shook his head in disgust. “Now, unless you’ve brought the van full of our favorite cargo, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
DB protested, “But, heed, three spirits will visit you tonight…”
Augustus shook his head. “Not anymore, they won’t,” he cut in “you interrupted the ceremony before the summoning.”
DB continued, “for without the spirit’s guidance, you will surely meet doom. Look at me and weep; this could be you. This could be your fate.”
A scary thought indeed. Augustus fixed his friend with a scrutinizing look, taking in the shiny pink mask, the beady desperate eyes, the massive bulky frame testing the limits of the esconsing latex, fettered and weighted by padlocks and chains.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Augustus spoke slowly and carefully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me..” He motioned at the figure in front of him “I have a mess to clean up.”
Moaning, shaking the earth with every step, DB mounted the stairs. “Three spirits, Augustus; when the clock strikes one the first shall appear.”
“Speaking of spirits,” Augustus muttered to himself, “could use a good old fashioned right now.” He was humming to himself as he scrubbed away, ghosts and reckonings were the last things on his mind.
At the stroke of one, Augustus sat straight up in bed. He couldn’t believe his eyes--sitting bemusedly at the foot of his bed was John Lithgow wearing a pointy tinfoil hat and a white coat. “Phage,” he said, relieved. “It’s only you--no ghoulish apparition awaits me; thank cthulhu.”
“I am the ghost of ATS past.” the phantom spoke. “I have come to show you visions forgotten and unravel the threads of time.”
Augustus blinked and found himself in an underground bunker. He was in a large waiting room along with an animated crowd. Groups of three, five, or more were gathered, excitedly talking and the room was abuzz. Among the oddest but most honorable mix of men and women were grays, elves, yetis, reptilians, men in black, dogmen, and machine elves, as well as other creatures even Augustus didn’t know. There were seven halls leading off into infinity, and through the nearest open door was the cern collider; through another could be seen a quantum computer; and yet another the Vatican library; here looked like a scene from Guantanamo Bay. An all-seeing eye stared down at him from a mural on the ceiling.
“This,” said Phage, “is ATS past. How cheerful were we; how merry! How ready to deny ignorance!”
A drone swept through, stopped briefly to spy on the two of them, seemed to disappear then reappear, and sped off. Augustus watched as a druid and two men in black stepped out of one of the rooms and into another. Around him the conversations whirled. He recognized so many of the faces, and there was a young Auggie (looking just the same, thanks to all the adrenochrome) insisting to a skeptical crowd that masons don’t rule the world. Entirely. Yet.
Phage led him down the halls and in the rooms Augustus could see maps of Atlantis and middle earth; one room was full of flat globes, and in another DTOM was furiously busy writing manner violations. He saw Byrd lecturing on ancient Egypt. In one room three idiots were baking cookies.
“Enough, spirit! I’ve seen enough. Have pity on a man who missed his latest adrenochrome dose and escort me back home; I cannot bear a second longer. These merry days of yore and ignorance denying do much to remind me of times changed. It hurts my black stony heart to see.”
Phage, who had stopped for a existential debate with a group of grays, reluctantly agreed to lead him back to his bed to await the apparition of ATS present.
Augustus had only just slipped off to sleep when a sudden and hearty laugh awoke him. He was astonished to see olaru12, bearded and robed, pointing a camera his way.
“Follow me, and I will reveal to you the true state of ATS present,” boomed olaru12. “Here, take this.” He handed Augustus a small dried husk. “Peyote,” he explained when he saw Augustus’s questioning face.
“I need peyote in order to see the visions of ATS present?” Augustus was incredulous. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I have to work the day after Christmas.”
“No, we don’t need it, thought it might be a good icebreaker.” olaru12 plucked the dried plant out of Augustus’s hand and pocketed it. “Let’s go! Take hold of my robe.”
Through a whirl of a series of tubes, Augustus and olaru12 flew till they came to a bottomless pit of mud. In the pit, a rabble of voices rang out sharply.
They rushed by, mud splattering them as they passed, and came to a small but lovely shed. There a lovely little elf known as NightStar was holding court. Augustus heard “God Bless us, everyone” before rushing on faster through the cold and into dark alleys and moldy basements. Finally, at a frigid underpass in the grimiest part of town, olaru12 pulled back his robe revealing a horrible, pitiful, diseased imbecile child.
“God. What is that?” Augustus was shook to the core at the sight.
“This,” olaru12’s face had taken on a menacing form “this is the bastard child of ATS. His name is Q. We have engendered and borne, nourished and raised this degenerate. Take a good look, Augustus, for you, too
edit on 29-12-2021 by zosimov because: (no reason
given)
edit on Fri Dec 31 2021 by DontTreadOnMe because: (no reason given)
have fathered Q.”
“Nooooo!” olaru 12 and Q vanished, and Augustus was left alone with his horror. The wind wailed through the deserted streets. He staggered through fog and sleet when two shadowy apparitions approached. Augustus couldn’t believe his eyes when a bare streetlamp fell on the first of the two: “Fredo?”
Enraged, the first figure shouted “You’re gonna have a problem. I’m going to f#%$ destroy you. I’m gonna tear that hat off your f*$n little head.”
“Woah, woah, no disrespect. What are you doing here anyway?” Augustus put his hands up appeasingly.
“We are your new overlords, b*$%. We are the ghosts of ATS yet to come,” the Cuomo brothers announced.
Augustus woke screaming and drenched in sweat, his bedsheets twisted and in disarray.
He logged on to ATS to see DBCowboys latest thread about how he had been detained at an Amazon warehouse on Kalaupapa and forced to work for penance after testing positive for COVID for the 30th time on a business trip to Hawaii. And that his wife had put him on a bacon free diet; that he might as well still be chained in a dungeon for all the miseries he was forced to endure. That all of his Gunters had escaped; and if his suffering may serve as a warning to others, that they may avoid his lamentable fate, then it would have all been worthwhile after all.
Augustus had no more visits from spirits thereafter, and ATS remained Cuomo-free, and even Q grew up to be a respectable and reasonable young man, and Augustus knew how to keep ATS well, if any man did. May it be said of ATS of yore, present times and until the last thread to grace this wacky depository, God Bless us, Everyone!
The End
“Nooooo!” olaru 12 and Q vanished, and Augustus was left alone with his horror. The wind wailed through the deserted streets. He staggered through fog and sleet when two shadowy apparitions approached. Augustus couldn’t believe his eyes when a bare streetlamp fell on the first of the two: “Fredo?”
Enraged, the first figure shouted “You’re gonna have a problem. I’m going to f#%$ destroy you. I’m gonna tear that hat off your f*$n little head.”
“Woah, woah, no disrespect. What are you doing here anyway?” Augustus put his hands up appeasingly.
“We are your new overlords, b*$%. We are the ghosts of ATS yet to come,” the Cuomo brothers announced.
Augustus woke screaming and drenched in sweat, his bedsheets twisted and in disarray.
He logged on to ATS to see DBCowboys latest thread about how he had been detained at an Amazon warehouse on Kalaupapa and forced to work for penance after testing positive for COVID for the 30th time on a business trip to Hawaii. And that his wife had put him on a bacon free diet; that he might as well still be chained in a dungeon for all the miseries he was forced to endure. That all of his Gunters had escaped; and if his suffering may serve as a warning to others, that they may avoid his lamentable fate, then it would have all been worthwhile after all.
Augustus had no more visits from spirits thereafter, and ATS remained Cuomo-free, and even Q grew up to be a respectable and reasonable young man, and Augustus knew how to keep ATS well, if any man did. May it be said of ATS of yore, present times and until the last thread to grace this wacky depository, God Bless us, Everyone!
The End
edit on 29-12-2021 by zosimov because: (no reason given)
originally posted by: AugustusMasonicus
a reply to: DBCowboy
You looked seksy in your latex.
Well duh.
It's from the "Seksy" line at Thunder Thighs "R" Us.
a reply to: AccessDenied
Thank you for reading and your response brought cheer!
Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Year!!
Thank you for reading and your response brought cheer!
Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Year!!
a reply to: ThatDamnDuckAgain
Hi dear!!
I had a blast writing this and was definitely laughing out loud.
ATS has some awesome characters and great sports--the story practically wrote itself
Hi dear!!
I had a blast writing this and was definitely laughing out loud.
ATS has some awesome characters and great sports--the story practically wrote itself
Although a most awesome story with great characters....
We need the longer version with a lot more characters to really make it pop!
Maybe you could do it once a year and beef it up a little..||Still loved it though!
We need the longer version with a lot more characters to really make it pop!
Maybe you could do it once a year and beef it up a little..||Still loved it though!
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