A Very Nazi Christmas

Posted on January 27, 2018 by sungmokoo

“In hindsight, I could have had more empathy. History tends to be kinder to those.”

War is hell. Christmas in Nazi Germany, 1941 was proof of that. Ask Dean Von Gundermann. He was twenty-five years old, and a good twenty-five years ahead of his time. He was a misplaced flower child stuck in an oppressive Hitler regime. He would have certainly flourished following around the Grateful Dead on the west coast of America. He would have looked absolutely adorable with long flowing ebony hair, wearing a dashiki or Nehru jacket. Perhaps this would be an appropriate time to start anew as I take a very cold shower.

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The Resurrection Of Christmas Cop

Posted on January 26, 2018 by sungmokoo

“Coming back to life is greatly overrated. By overrated, I mean, it’s like dirty ass hairs, like a stiff paintbrush.”

It was Christmas Day, 2010. One year had passed since the expiration of Christmas Cop. He was molested awake by his very own stench. Thick make up collapsed atop his rapidly decaying face. Maggots, worms, and every creature in-between feasted on his body. It was gross, and oh my sweet dear Lord, that unbearable hoobastank®. He tried to cry out, and was greeted with profound silence. This sucked. He tried to move. He was met with the equivalence of silence for motion.

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The Death Of Christmas Cop

Posted on January 25, 2018 by sungmokoo

“Now that I’m dead, I can say this without remorse, I love you, man.”

As sure as Christmas Cop was born on Christmas Day, he died on Christmas Day, 2009 at the tender age of 71. Of course, his death was untimely, in that he was running six-and-a-half hours late. He overslept; perhaps, he just slept. You see, retirement further messed up his already horrible sense of time. He jumped in the shower, frisked himself with soap, jumped out of the shower, slipped, banged his head on the corner of the sink, suffered a severe concussion, didn’t know it, got into his car in the garage, thought about starting up the car, but instead, fell asleep behind the wheel for the very last time. His corpse was not discovered until Valentine’s Day. If there’s one thing to be learned, it is this…
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The Origin Of Christmas Cop

Posted on January 24, 2018 by sungmokoo

“You have the right to remain silent night, holy night. Drop the gun, punk.”

Christmas Kopovich was only eight years old when he watched his parents board the alien mothership. It was 1946, one year after World War II. America was relevant and vital. No one. Not those Nazis. Not those Japanese prisoners of war. Not those Italian rabble-rousers. Not those Irish hooligans. Not those Egyptian twerps. They were not going to steal this moment of glory and pride. It was a golden era. America had diverse dreams, and those dreams were happy bubbles, and every loyal American had them in spades.

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