The Christmas Krampus
by Taylor Caro
“Please, tell us a story,”
“Yeah! a Christmas one!”
“Tell us about Santa Claus, and Rudolph! Pleeeeeaase”.
The children clamored around the postal worker, smiling through frost chapped lips and stamping the cold out of their small legs. They wanted to hear a tale, a tale of the christmas persuasion.
Fran, the postal worker, was neither enchanted or surprised by the onslaught of children begging for stories. She was annoyed. It was the sixth time that week she had been accosted by a diminutive mob. At first it was fairly endearing, but now it had to stop. It was the busiest time of the month for mailing, as well as the most miserable as far as weather was concerned. It was bad enough she could feel the arthritis creaking in her right knee, the headache nestled wonderfully between her eyes, and the wind still managing to freeze, despite the many layers of clothing. Now she was being stalked by groups of children asking her for christmas stories.
“Go ‘way, all of you. I don’t have any stories, go watch the tv or play your gameguys are whatever it is you do.” She ordered above the din of children.
They did not hear, but continued they’re pursuit of the irritable mail woman.
“Why duss rudolph’s nose glow?” Asked a child, who’s ear muffs continually fell off of their usual position.
“Why do we dec-dec-decowate twees?” Asked another.
“Why do Santa come once a year?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
The packages that Fran had been carrying were promptly thrown to the ground with an unceremonious plop. She had quite enough. She was fifty three years old. She had earned her right to be angry.
“You want to know why?” She bellowed, hands placed firmly on both hips “Because it’s all a load of bullshi-er, horse feathers!”
the group of children were suddenly quiet. They stared at the adult, open mouthed.
“Yeah, that’s right. Complete horse feathers. Mr. Jolly ol’ Saint Nick, givin all of you undeserving little brats gifts? Happy bearded lil elves making toys? Rubbish the lot of it! When I was your age Santa Claus would send the Krampus after us if we were naughty. We’d get coal, and the whip of the avenging Krampus we did!”
The children continued to stare wide eyed.
“Oh, don’t know of the Krampus huh? Well of course you don’t! No one ever wants to talk about that part of the holiday. It’s all sugar plum fairies and ho ho ho! Now leave me alone, all of you!” Fran picked up her packages from the floor, and smiled as the group of children quickly dispersed.
Fran trudged proudly to the front door of the house she had intended to deliver the packages to. She ringed the doorbell only once, set the packages down and turned quickly on her heel.
She was met by a boy named Ben. At least, that’s what she supposed his name was. That’s what the worn down name-tag read, barely stuck on to the bright green jacked he wore.
The jacket had a large dinosaur shaped hood, and most of “Ben”’s face was obscured by a bright yellow scarf wrapped suffocatingly tight around his head.
“Mail lady ‘mam” the voice that emanated from behind the scarf was barely audible.
Fran stared back, transfixed by this malformed dinosaur with yellow scarf and red boots.
“I wanna know ‘bout the Krampus” said the child-dinosaur.
The postal worker was taken aback. No one had ever asked to hear the story of the Krampus. No one even knew, not even people of her own age. She was sure, in fact, that she was the only one who knew the story of Santa Claus’s forgotten ally of the night.
Perhaps, now was the time someone else shall know as well.
Fran sighed a little, and sat down on the bench outside of the house. She gestured to the seat next to her, and the puffy dinosaur named “ben” scrambled to his place, ready to hear the story.
Fran took a deep breath and....
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Now, the story I’m ‘bout to tell you. It’s a story that I only know. I don’t think anyone else knows. Never heard anyone else tell it. I first heard it when I was your age, maybe a little younger.
You know Santa Claus right? You know ‘em as the big guy in the red coat, round rosy cheeks ‘n cherry nose. Goes ho ho ho. Well, he aint like that.
Well, he goes ho ho ho, but it’s not like, HO HO HO, it’s more uh, it’s more like a deep laugh, a laugh that’s old and knows things, but a laugh that still finds joy in the things that it knows. It’s a laugh that I don’t think anyone’s ever heard from another person. Not sure. Hard to describe.
Anyways.
So Santa Claus, he’s got a long dark blue cloak, dark like the night sky, there’s no red, well, there’s a little red. So he has a long dark blue clock, with a little red. His beard is long and white, but it’s a lot longer than what you see on those advertisements. And he’s got a wreath of holly over his head. I think that symbolizes something. He’s also got a staff, and a whole other bunch of magic type things that you never hear ‘bout.
Anyways.
SO, one Christmas eve, a very long time ago, Santa Claus visited the very last house on his yearly trip to earth. It was in a small village that lied deep in the heart of a very old forest. Can’t ‘member if it was in sweden or Yougslavia or somethin. One of those. Now Santa was visiting the very last house of the village, puttin the toys under the tree (he does do that.) when he heard a shuffle in the kitchen, and a sound like something dropping. So he goes to see what the commotion in the kitchen is. All the food that had been carefully set up on the table for Christmas was all gone, or partially gone. The plates were all broken, and most of the bottles were drained as well. Sittin on the table with a plate of the last bits of ham’n potatoes was a...
um,
well, this thing was not human. It has a lot taller than a human, and it was covered from head to hoof with short red fur. Yeah, it had hoofs for it’s feet, and bird-like claws for hands. It also had long horns that stuck straight up, and a tail too. It was lapping up the gravy on the plate with it’s tongue, which was long an’ blue.
Now, I know what your thinking. This things a demon or a devil or something, and the story I’m telling you turned into one of those horror movies.
Well now, I don’t think he was a demon. He was something else, but I can’t remember what it’s called. They’re very old things, and I don’t think anyone remembers what their names are, or were.
Whatever the species of creature this guy was, it was sitting on the table eating noisily away. Santa Claus was surprised, but not scared. I think he knew what the creature was, I think Santa Claus is old enough to know, or to remember.
“Hello.” Santa Claus greeted.
“mmfmmf” said the creature, that must have been what it sounded like, all the food in his mouth in all.
Santa stared with an amused sort of look, and the creature stared with a sheepish kind a look. The kind of look that knows when it’s been caught in the act of mischief. It was all real quiet and awkward at first, as the creature quickly finished the meal.
“Uh, hi there” The creature said at last,
“What’s your name?” Santa Claus entered the kitchen, and the Creature got all panicky and scared like.
“Look Mister...uh, this isn’t what it looks like. I swear I didn’t eat any of the kids in here or anything like that. I’ve completely sworn off the stuff. See here, I was just uh...helping with some of the left overs that the humans so foolishly left unattended. That’s not healthy you know, leaving food to rot.....” The creature scrambled off of the table and began backing away from Santa Claus. Santa Claus is an imposin kind of figure you see, and though the creature was imposin as well, frightening to look at perhaps, it knew when it was in the presence of something more powerful than it.
“What’s your name, fellow?” Santa asked once again, a little softer though. He’s a kind sort after all.
“Kr..... this isn’t a trick is it? You aren’t going to bind me to some magic plain or...or enslave me to do your bidding?” The creature was now curled up on the floor, completely submissive like.
“Of course not, if I intended to harm you, I would have done so much sooner.” Santa smiled warmly. He was telling the truth you know. You don’t fu-... uhm, you don’t cross Santa Claus.
“K....K...Krampus. It’s Krampus. And...okay I admit it, I kind of stole the food, but it’s been a hard winter, I don’t have that much to eat or drink,”
Santa Claus lifted the Krampus up on it’s hoofed feet, and smiled warmly at it.
“If it’s food and drink you want, let us dine together. It is Christmas Eve after all”.
and with a wave of his hand, a basket of food and wine appeared on the table. The Krampus was completely overjoyed, and toasted to Santa Claus’s health. Both Santa and Krampus shared tasty magic sort of food, and soon the Krampus was properly silly with drink and an over abundance of turkey. Santa Claus waved his hand again, restored the human’s old dinner to the way it was before the Krampus got ahold of it, and exited the house with that real good Ho Ho Ho Ho that I told you ‘bout earlier.
But. but Santa Claus didn’t leave yet. He waited in the sleigh. He was kind of in the middle of decision making. See, he had talked to the Krampus about many things over their dinner, and one of the things that was brought up was the Krampus livin situation, or lack there of.
Like I said before, the Krampus was a very old kind of creature, and I don’t think those kinds of creatures were alive anymore, even at the time that this story takes place. An’ Krampus, well, he was kind of alone in the world and didn’t have a home in the traditional sense.
And Santa was a sucker for that sort of thing. He may be a lot more powerful and frightening than what you think he is, but his heart is just as, if not bigger than what one might suppose.
So Santa thought real hard, but not long. He went back inside the house to find the Krampus fast asleep from wine n’ turkey, snoring loudly away. With a heave and a ho Santa Claus lifted the critter up and over his back like the sack of toys he carried around, and set the Krampus comfortably on his sleigh.
Can you imagine what a great shock the Krampus had, when, upon waking on Christmas day, found himself at the northpole?
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You don’t need to imagine that great shock that the Krampus had, ‘cause I’m gonna tell it to you now.
The Krampus, upon waking and finding himself in Santa’s sleigh, had a right fit at first. He kind of flailed like, and made wailing noises, and fell out of the sleigh and ran about. Santa Claus calmed him down, and told him that he was not in any danger, and in fact, was now a whole lot safer than he was.
It was then that the Krampus noticed the large castle and the great beautiful forest he was in.
When you think of the northpole, an Santa Claus’s workshop, you probably think of a place with a lot of snow and singing elves and a little log cabin. Some kind of quaint Christmas card crap. Believe me, I know, I have to deliver those things every year. A lotta hooey that is.
No, Santa Claus doesn’t just have a little log cabin in the middle of the northpole. He’s got a whole kingdom, with big beautiful trees and iced lakes and a great castle. There’s snow, but it’s not normal snow that freezes too much or gets slushy. Just perfect kind of snow, the kind of snow that those kids in warm places think snow is. Soft n cool and clean.
The Krampus was given the grand tour of Santa’s realm. He was shown the surrounding forest and the frozen lakes that you could ice skate on.
Then the Krampus was taken to the stables, where the famous Reindeer of legend were kept. There were also less famous, flight capable animals that lived in the stable too. The North pole is a magic kind of place, and it has strange influences on the wildlife that live there. Something in the ground I think. Reindeer aint the only ones that can fly. Milling about the stable were a few floating goats and one pig as well.
The Krampus liked the goats. He was a kind of goat himself after all, or at least, he had goat like qualities.
Remember the goats, ‘kay? They come into play later.
Anyways,
After a personal introduction to each Reindeer and the other miscellaneous animals, he was ushered into the castle itself. He showed him the great hall, and the great dining room, and the great kitchens and the great ballroom, and finally the great big factory, where all the toy making took place.
It was then that Santa introduced the Krampus to the elves.
Now I have to stop my story and explain to you the elves. It’s such a pain that I have to do this, but those christmas cards n’ holiday specials have got your brain so warped that I have to rearrange it proper like. They don’t have beards or pointy hats, but they are still quite pointy, in personality rather than appearance. They’re small yeah, but they’re very delicate and proud. Very proud. They’re very proud of the work that they accomplish, and they love to keep a tight ship, er, they’re very organized. Think of ‘em not so much jolly but focused. Kind a like a whole lot of stock brokers, but magical.
So they were very surprised when Santa Claus brought the Krampus in, and not the good kind of surprise. It was the kind of surprise you get when your kid brings in an ugly dog it found at school, and the dog goes and makes a whole mess outta your carpet. It was that kind of surprise.
The Krampus gave a sweeping bow, and smiled largely at the elves. The elves did not smile back, but gave synchronized nods of the head, and went back to work.
The Krampus was a bit put off by the cold welcome, but Santa gave a reassuring pat-pat on his furry back and told him that it was nothing personal, that’s just how elves were.
Not all the welcomes were that chilly. Mrs. Clause greeted the Krampus with a wicker basket, it’s contents containing a number of comforting foods that I can’t eat anymore....gotta watch the heart you know. Mrs. Clause liked critters, and the Krampus was the most critter like of critters she had ever seen. It did get awkward when she reached out to give the Krampus a pet on the head, like one would pet a cat. It made the Krampus hiss like a cat, that’s for sure. Mrs. Clause didn’t mind it, and showed the Krampus to his new sleeping quarters.
And so the Krampus spent his first night at the North Pole.
Folded up in a bed too small for his size, in a room filled with Christmas Elves who were not very keen on sharing their sleeping quarters with a thing that smelled faintly like brimstone.
-------------------------------------------
The Krampus grew tired of the North Pole.
The novelty of having a roof over your head and a full belly was a welcome change for him, he hadn’t had a real meal since the old times when he feasted on children. But, a nice place to stay is not enough for some people, and by some people I mean all people. A nice home is one thing, but not having anything to do in the nice home is something else.
The Krampus was always occupied with being on the move, tryin to find safe and dry places to sleep, and leftover food to eat. Every day he had something to do, to work for.
The Krampus didn’t have anything to do at the North Pole.
Now, don’t start thinkin Santa just took him outta his proper envi-ro-ment and plunked him in the middle of some strange surroundings and forgot about him. Not at all. Santa Clause gave him all kinds of stuff to do.
It’s just that the Krampus couldn’t do anything, not the proper way anywho. Manufactorin toys was right out, that was the Elves work and they weren’t gonna share that with a.....whatever species the Krampus was. So Krampus was given the duty of organizin the toys and puttin them in the boxes and so on.
This did not go well, as one would imagine. Ya see, deep inside the Krampus, way down to the very marrow, is a creature of destruction. That doesn’t make the Krampus a bad sort of fellow, but it’s in his nature to destroy things. Can’t help it. He doesn’t mean to. It’s like puttin a bull in an expensive kitchen ware store, you expect some tea cups and bowls to break.
and that’s what happened. The Krampus single handedly set the Elves back an entire months worth of toy making.
So no more toy related activity for the Krampus.
Then the Krampus was given the duty of bein a kind of Janitor or Groundskeeper, whatever. This job let him go outside quite a bit, which the Krampus liked, and the Elves liked even more.
but this did not go so well either. The Krampus abandoned his job of pruning the weeds outlining the castle, and stalked moose and caribou in the forest, with rake in hand. I aint gonna go into detail, but at the end of the day he took down quite a few large woodland animals, and set a small part of the woods on fire...not sure why. But, I don’t think there was a reason for it. He just liked fire I suppose.
So no more groundskeeper work.
At this point, he was no longer trusted to do anything, at least, not by the Elves. Santa Clause is a forgivin kind of person, and still offered the Krampus other things to do, but the Elves protested and complained so much that Santa Clause had to relieve the Krampus of anymore duties.
and that’s why the Krampus was bored.
boredom is not a healthy thing for anybody to experience, especially ex-monsters with destruction branded deep in their hearts.
Thus began what many would call, “that one summer when the Krampus was a big pain the the hind-quarters.”
The Krampus abandoned his bed that was provided for him, not wanting to share space with the Elves. He packed up his few belongings, and set out to the surroundings woods, where he built himself a little creeky sort of shack, amongst all the old dark trees. This suited him better.
He took to continue his stalking of the wild animals for food, and began stocking the two-legged denizens North Pole as well...but not for food. He had sworn off the devouring of all sentient life a long time ago after all.
And what great fun he had. He’d lurk behind the trees, and when an unsuspecting Elf on pine cone collecting duty happened by, he’d spring out and jab at him with his long pointy horns that grew from atop his head. He wouldn’t hurt the Elf. At least, not too badly. There was no blood or anything, but it would give the hapless creature quite the scare, which made the Krampus roll ‘round on the needly ground in hysterics.
Blueprints for toys that the elves would be meticulously studying would suddenly disappear altogether, and the library was mysteriously set ablaze at least once a week. There was a constant throaty cackle that echoed through the halls of the toy factory, and the fruit pies were always, always half eaten.
Worse of all, and this is what the elves could not take, was the sounds that would come outta the woods, now that they were occupied by the unwanted guest. Loud, loud music that reverberated through the trees, music that went “bum-bum-bump-bum-badaladleumpum”.
and what did Santa Claus think of this?
He was not annoyed or angered or outraged. He was sad. Just sad. He tried to talk to the Krampus, to reprimand and reason, but the Krampus avoided him at all cost.
Until one day, the first of December in fact, Santa Clause found the Krampus in the kitchen. Plates, bowls, plates, utensils, and every kind of cooking thing that belonged in drawers was overturned and tossed about. The Krampus himself was sprawled on the floor amidst the chaos, a jug of eggnog cradled tightly in his arms.
“Why do you do this? Why must you cause all of this mischief?” he sorrowfully asked,
“Because, that is all I can do.” The Krampus hiccuped. “If you didn’t want me, then you shouldna brought me.”
“If I left you, you would have died.” Santa Clause replied, brows furrowed in pity.
“ I might as well be dead and gone now. I’m no longer a monster, I haven’t been for a long time. What else is there left for me to be? What else can I be?” The Krampus gurgled, and with a dramatic toss, flung the empty jug of eggnog away.
Santa Claus didn’t know what to say or what to do. He understood that no amount of scolding would deter the Krampus. He knew the plight of the Krampus, the plight of a creature no longer needed. It was the worse kind of heartache of all, a heartache that he too would face someday.
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With a heavy heart did Santa Claus proceed to oversee the rest of the pre-christmas activities.
You can only imagine how heavier his heart got when he took a gander at the List. You know the one. The one that he always checks, everyday leadin up to the big day.
There wasn’t a single good boy or girl in the whole world.
Not one.
This, unfortunately, was not something new. Santa Claus always had to endure, what the elves called “drought years.” Those horrible kinda years were all the kids, even the good ones had one to many a temper tantrum.
O’ course, Santa Claus would give them presents anyways, but only to the less naughty, instead of the typical nice. Because of this, a lot less toys were given out that year, which made a big ol’ headache for the elves who had to toss ‘em out. Made a whole lot of paperwork that did.
Santa Claus kept an optimistic smile for his elves, and still went ho-ho-ho in that wise, ancient sort of way, but when he was alone in his own room, he sadly told his plight to the Missus, who comforted him.
And the Krampus?
He was listening in, hiding outside the window.
The Krampus had been noticing, during his daily acts of destruction and mischief, the growing anxiety engulfing the usually merry mood that should accompany christmas. He may have been a bit of a no good, attention grabbing pig, but he was no fool. The Krampus knew something bad was poisoning the thoughts of the elves and Santa Clause, and it had nothing to do with him.
So it was only natural that he just had to find out what it was that could possibly occupy their worries.
Eves dropping will get you information. However, it won’t always get the information that you should hear. Believe me, It’s true. Hearin conversations you aint supposed to hear brings on heaps of trouble. Why you think them tv writers always use eves dropping to complicate an episode?
Anyways
The Krampus, he heard about the lack of obedient children. But he didn’t know the part about christmas going along as usual anyways. He got it into his furry, horned head that without nice kids, there’s no presents, and without presents, no christmas, and without christmas, he figured Santa Claus and the elves and the whole north pole might just sink into the ground or somethin horrible like that.
And so the Krampus began wringing his claws and pullin his pointed ears. Never before had such a wave of guilt wash over ‘im. In fact, I doubt he ever had felt guilt or cared about anything ever before. Yet, here he was now, pulling his pointed ears over someone else who wasn’t him. He was worried. He was actually worried. Not just for Santa Claus and Mrs Claus, but for those sticks-in-the-mud elves, and for the whole north pole. He had been an awful kind of house guest, yet Santa Claus still let him stay.
The Krampus realized that he must do something. Do something...............decent. But what? How? All he could do was break things, or set things on fire, and sometimes even explode things.
How was he going to get an entire earth full of human children to be nice?
How indeed.
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I’m gettin to the climax of the story. It aint gonna be any longer. It’s gettin to cold out here for me, s’bad for the arthritis.
Anyways.
So Krampus got an idea. An idea that he wasn’t quite sure was gonna work, but he figured it’d be fun to try it anyways.
He scrambled higgildy piggildy to the stables where the Reindeer were kept. He was gonna steal one, or two, or three. He planned to hitch ‘em up to the sleigh and do a bit of spreading the christmas cheer. In his special way.
But the reindeer would not cooperate. They were not fond of The Krampus, partly because he had set a few firecrackers loose in they’re stable a week ago. One can hardly blame ‘em.
At first the Krampus thought all was lost, how was he gonna fly across the world when there was no way to fly?
but he found a way.
Remember them goats? I told you they were gonna be important.
It was a bit of a silly sight, that it was, to see the Krampus sailing through the sky on a two-goat drawn, rickety sleigh. But it flew, and that’s all the Krampus needed. With Santa Claus’s special list that he procured through uh...not so honest means, and a whole bag full of cinnamon buns, he tore through the air with a jostle and a jerk, the goats bleating the whole way.
It was a week before christmas, just one week. But the Krampus, despite being an ex-monster, still lives outside of the normal kind of time that me and you experience.
So he didn’t need a week, not even three days. He’d just need a night.
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Can you imagine what it must have been like, for the first child the Krampus visited? There he was, between the age of six and eight, snoozing away in his race car shaped bed. When a thump and a bump woke him up.
Just imagine what kind of surprise to see a tall, red-furred and curly horned monster standing over you, with a twisty stick in hand.
You’d probably scream wouldn’t you? You’d probably try to run if you could.
That’s just what the first victim of the Krampus did, or tried to do.
But see, the Krampus is a special kind of monster. A monster of the old days. When one sees the Krampus, you can’t scream. When one sees the Krampus, you can’t run. You are absolutely petrified, the only sounds you can make are mumble-bumble kind of noises. An’ after you see the Krampus, you will forget ‘bout him. You’ll remember your terror, and you’ll remember what he said, but you won’t remember him.
It’s an old kind of magic that the Krampus had, and I don’t think the Krampus was even aware of it himself. It was just in his nature, you see.
“This list says you’ve been awfully naughty.” The Krampus said with a throaty growl and a sneer.
“m-m-m-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-” said the boy.
and then the Krampus proceeded to beat the child with his twisty stick.
Now don’t get all up and bothered by this. Everyone is so sensitive like these days. We can’t have a child getting beated with twisty sticks in our stories! That’s down right in-a-pro-priate that is. Well to that I say bollocks. Bollocks on the lot. This is how I heard the tale and I aint changin it for nobody.
Where was I,
Oh, right. The beating.
That kid got a righteous beatin that night. There was no blood drawn o’ course, but just think how terrifying that must have been for the naughty lad, to have a giant demon-looking critter laughing loudly and whip-whip-whipping away with his stick.
So when the Krampus, after he was done with the whip-whip-whipping told the kid to behave, and change his wicked ways, you bet your boots that the child listened. Even after the Krampus left, and the memory of the beatin faded from his mind, he still knew that he must behave for christmas. Couldn remember exactly why, but there was a fear in his heart that wasn’t there before.
An that’s how all the naughty children learned to behave for christmas. The Krampus would enter their rooms with a puff of sparks and flame, and exit with a flick of his tail and a click of his hoofs.
The Krampus had the best of nights. He hadn’t that much fun since the very long forgotten days. He guided his goats threw the air, feasted on the cinnamon buns and sang christmas carols and ancient songs from ancient days, real loud and warbly.
When the night was done, and he landed his two-goat-drawn sleigh back at the north pole, he was exhausted. The Krampus trudged his way back to his creeky shack and flopped on his creeky bed. He slept good and peaceful-like. I dare say visions of sugar plums might have danced in his head.
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It was a christmas miracle, so said the elves. Seemingly over night, all the children the world over went from naughty to nice. They could hardly believe it. They plunged back into their work with a happiness that had not been felt for a long time. In fact, they almost seemed like the jolly sort of christmas elves that you are familiar with. They even sang! Could you imagine that?
and there was no mischief from the Krampus, throughout the entire week. He was just as elusive as ever, and that loud music that went bump-bump-bu-bump-badaladleup-ump could still be heard at night, but there was no more missing blue prints, or sudden fires or destroyed kitchens.
Nice children and a nice Krampus? The elves didn’t know what to make of it, but they were grateful all the same.
Santa Claus knew exactly what to make outta it. He kept quiet ‘bout it, didn’t wanna put Krampus on the spot and embarrass him. Santa waited ‘till the eve of Christmas day, when the whole North Pole rests and a great big party and feast is prepared, that he and the Missus knocked on the door of the Krampus’s creeky shack.
The Krampus opened the door real slowly like, and was greeted with a great fruit pie and two smiling Clauses.
“Thank you, Krampus.” Santa Claus smiled in that nice and knowing way.
“For what? I didn’t do-I don’t know what you’re talking about” The Krampus grit his teeth nervously.
“Krampus, you made the children nice, you gave me joy in giving gifts again. You’ve even made the elves happy”
“That? Oh that, I didn’t do that uh, you know how kids are. They go from bad to good super fast. Can’t make up their little minds you know” Krampus tried to shut the door, but Santa Claus prevented him.
“Krampus,” Santa whispered
“ye-yes?”
“There were sweet roll crumbs on my list.” Santa Claus winked, and when he winked, The Krampus knew that there was no point in bein’ secretive ‘bout it anymore.
he stepped outside his shack and sheepishly kicked at the ground.
“Sorry I took your list ‘n, kind of acted of my own accord. And I’m sorry that I set the restrooms on fire, and I’m sorry about the chairs and the kitchen and I’m so-”
Santa Claus put a warm hand on the Krampus’s shoulder. That shut the Krampus up real quick.
“Merry Christmas,” Santa Claus said.
“And a very happy new year” The Missus handed Krampus the fruit pie, and gave him a warm hug and a kiss between the horns.
The Krampus stiffly held the pie in his claws and watched as Mister and Missus Claus walked back to the castle.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to spend this joyous night with us?” Santa Claus called back.
The Krampus stupidly grinned and shook his head. He watched them them both Santa Claus and the Missus disappear into the woods, only then did he go back inside his creeky shack.
He wasn’t alone though. The Krampus was havin a party of his own you see. There was tinsel hangin from the roof, and there was a nice fire and lots and lots of bottles, containing all kinds of brews n’ stuff that you shouldn’t drink ‘till your much older. The goats were there o’ course, and would you believe it.......three elves!
So the Krampus, the goats and the three elves had themselves a very raucous and loud Christmas party that went into the wee hours of the night. They danced ‘round the trees and played that ancient music which went bump-bump-bump-bump-buddaludle-ump-bump.
And the Krampus felt at home.
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And that is the story. That’s how I heard it told, and that’s how I told it.
So remember, you better be nice, or else the Krampus will surely visit you, and give you a whippin and a fright. He doesn’t eat children anymore of course....but you never know.....if you’re particularly nasty, he might just break his diet one day and....snap-gobble crunch.
snap
gobble
crunch
