The Grim Tale of Secret Satan 2017

Hey Let me start by explaining just what Secret Satan is, because you probably think I misspelled Santa: Secret Satan is a “gift exchange” of sorts where you send devious, evil shit to a friend, either IRL or “digital persona” from the single best board game site on the planet, Fortress Ameritrash. I always reluctantly agree to be involved as I seem to have the particular set of skills to send dastardly things to these people. Well, as evil as my parcels are, I was outdone this year. Truly, truly evil shit arrived today, and it included human teeth. Yes, human fucking teeth.

Let’s begin my journey through hell:

The exterior of the package was littered with hints about its origin and purpose.

Upon opening, I found a note purportedly from the devil himself…

I realized immediately that this was going to be soooo bad. This demon knew me.

So, I pulled out the first item…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short as fuck. This guy knew all the buttons to press. He KNEW that the top shelf in my kitchen is that which I dread most…like a child scared of the monsters under the bed, that cabinet’s shelf was like Atlantis – a fabled place only the most intrepid explorer dared to seek out. Now I will finally be able to face that fear and defeat the darkness!

After shaking off images of dust bunnies more fearsome than those that the Knights of Ni faced, I adventured onward into my own personal Jedi test of the dark versus the light!

Next was this curious envelope…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What could it be? Something so terrible that Satan himself deigned it perfect to torment me with? I opened it in horror when I realized that it was…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…a laminated copy of my own game. And arguably the worst game I’ve ever conceived of. Yes, this was my own Dark Side Cave experience. I had to face my failure, complete with a yellow die (my favorite color) and an orange CALL 911 EMERGENCY pencil. Unsharpened, no less, as Satan knew the mere sight of this would make me stab myself in the neck, snap it off, and bleed out into the floor drain like so much spilled sewage.

This demon is pure fucking evil.

Stunned, I felt compelled to carry on, and found….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…a bad full of empty sprues, and some half used paints. The DEVIL!  He taunts me and my addiction to painting!

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I carefully pulled out more torments…


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Devil, trying to cure me of my board game addiction? Could it be? Could the great Deceiver be my salvation? I opened the package and OH MY GOD. Chaos Marauders. I quickly opened it to see if it was hiding a helium suicide hood, but no, the devil gave me this and now I have to live with it.

But wait..the largest package had a note of redemption…something alluring to the fact that I may end up in hell, but I’ll be able to sit and drink with Old Scratch…

 

 

 

 

 

But then I opened it…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OH. NO. Not only is it the Red Box D&D, it’s got a character sheet with LOTER listed as a character. For a moment I felt a wave of warmth and reached for my forehead. No, thankfully…no unicorn horn started growing. I still had an unquenchable thirst for cannabis and pink wine, but that would have to wait. I’VE COME TOO FAR! I pressed on…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MY GOD, NO! “I sit around Hell listening for the best guitar players to challenge. Just ask Bobby. Obviously your name has never come up.” Not only has he mocked my ability to make games and my dwarflike stature (NO, I DO NOT HAVE SAUSAGEY FINGERS), he has mocked the last thing I had left…my guitar playing. My neighbors know that I am Carlos Santana’s mentally handicapped cousin Pedro when I play, but until now I could blame the equipment. Now I can’t claim that “the guitar’s just out of tune” anymore. Now I have a tuner that is right on the guitar.

I wept for an hour before moving on to my final torment. This evil son of a cur knew my passions, my failures, and now my community. He was mocking me, I knew it. Something about wearing the enclosed item and how it would give me some measure of acclaim… but what could it be?

 

 

 

 

 

No. It can’t be. It can’t. But it was.

A necklace made made of electrical wire and human fucking teeth. Adult teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This devil broke me. Thanks, Satan. This is one for the history books. Fucking GRIM. The gift of tuberculosis. Holy shit.

 

 

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