June 28th, 2007
|01:35 pm - An unnamed, red-nosed reindeer|
The reindeer herd methodically plods their way through a seemingly endless blizzard. The old, weak, and young have become easy pickings for a pack of gray wolves who follow and attack the herd with increasing desperation and ferocity.
But a certain little deer is causing extra trouble for the group. With a highly unfortunate genetic deformity, this reindeer is not only guaranteed to be the next wolf meal but he is also a safety concern for everyone else. You see, his particular genetic hiccup is a red bioluminescent nose that inexplicably and frequently shines like a neon diner sign to the marauding wolf pack, saying:
HERE WE ARE
EAT US NOW
REIN DEER MEAT
NUM MER NUMS
In fact, when encountering this bilious mutant, a person might even remark that its snout glows - as if it were a light bulb.
Its mother shuns the appalling mistake, hoping it soon to die. And now without her milk, he soon surely will.
Then, on an exceedingly foggy night – a fog so thick that it seems to engulf the entire Christian world – a bearded, slave-owning misanthrope starts beating his wife because his plans (of distributing his lunatic dogma to impressionable human children by sneaking into their homes and hiding so-called “free gifts” under house plants) appear to be ruined by the opaque fog.
Drunkenly he stumbles from his home to urinate in the snow and mentally regroup. Perhaps hidden plastic eggs would be better vessels for Capitalistic messages re: the bleeding Christ…
But then he spots it: the red beacon of our little freak show being batted roughly about under the antlers of a big male reindeer – excommunicating it from the protection of the herd. The male does not withhold any brutality as it repeatedly prods and mashes to pieces what the child-deer once called its bones. This male, incidentally, is one of five reindeer bucks who mated with the little one’s mother the last time she was in heat. However, before a paternity test may be administered, the would-be Abraham’s face is blasted clear off its skull from the shotgun of the inebriated and pantless recluse.
Lifting the broken and glowing pile of bleeding fur, the man bellows:
“Well look at you! I could strap you to the front of my sled, cut straight through this fog like shit through a goose, and once and for all stomp out the Jewish menace from the face of the planet! You just saved my old lady a trip to the infirmary, you disgusting little pissant! Heh heh heh!”
And though Zionist vermin still writhe and scurry about the globe, the hermit was able to successfully harness the power of the tiny wretch and spread his mantra of a love that can unstitch the fabric of society from within, one conditional gift at a time.
There is a moral:
You too may become useful in a way bigger than yourself. So while you might want to cover your deformities now – and you should – don’t give up hope that one day you’ll be accidentally useful: that the stomach-turning growth on your neck will one day be delicately caressed and worshipped because the visage of St. Francis of Assisi appears to be in it. Or perhaps supermodels might discover that your debilitating back acne is the perfect textured luffa they could ever clean their naked and perfect bodies with. You never know! Just keep hoping. Hope hope hope and you might luck into something before the wolves come for you.
As for our little red-nosed friend, he was still quite brightly lighting the sled’s path twenty-three hours after he stopped breathing. And though the jury’s still out, it’s pretty certain that history will judge him alongside other great heroes, like Eli Whitney, like the Manhattan Project, like Columbus.
Current Location: 21 weeks in the future