Christmas is almost here unless you’re a heathen in which case nothing is almost here. Nothing. Just another day of you frowning. Why so sad, heathen? That’s what happy people will say. Then, before you can answer, they’ll skip away and forget you exist. Poor heathen.
Anyway, with a little over week left to enjoy ourselves, we have a gift for you! A Holy Taco holiday prize pack for a lucky winner who can provide us with the best story about either a terrible Christmas gift or just a Christmas that sucked mercilessly. What’s in it for you? I have some idea! We currently have some cool loot from Zippo in the office that you may or may not have read about in our gift guide including a new watch, a snazzy wallet and more. Plus we have a half bottle of whisky that Luis Prada drank. We’re not going to send you that because it’s probably a violation of more than one law. But we’ll figure something out. It’s Christmas, just be happy to be surprised.
Post your story in the comments or, if it’s unseemly, email it to firstname.lastname@example.org so our intern can spend his holiday reading emails before he sends it on to me.
The most moving story of a holiday gone wrong will be chosen as our winner and receive a prize pack and then will be edited for maximum hilarity and reposted here on Holy Taco. Which is to say I’ll just add a bunch of fake crap to your story and then share it with the world! Isn’t that great?
Get your stories to me by December 17th and the winning story will be posted on the 21st, just in time to ruin people’s holidays. And no, you probably won’t get your gift pack before Christmas unless the post office decides to ignore every other package and just prioritize yours. But it’ll be a nice New Years gift!
To get you started and to make this a viable article rather than filler, I’ll share this story that was once told to me by someone who may or may not be a blood relative.
Some years ago at a Christmas party our intrepid hero was growing tired of the monotony and boorishness of some of the guests who he felt were being obnoxious and kind of assholey. One of those sorts of parties where you were expecting to just have a chill night with friends but it turned out someone invited half the staff of the local Dick store and it’s just awkward and uncomfortable for everyone.
Not wanting to engage in any further banter with people who talk about their MBAs, how much money they make and why they’re smarter than you, our hero thought perhaps retiring early would be in order. But of course no one learns a lesson from one man silently leaving the room so rather than simply leaving he went to the kitchen and found a frying pan. He then took this frying pan to the washroom. He then dropped trou in the washroom, squatted over the pan, and shat. In the pan. Which he then put on the stove.
Now word has it, when shit in a pan reaches a certain temperature, it diffuses into the atmosphere like a brown cloud of regret and scorn. The smell becomes an anal poltergeist and infects the very walls of the building and it does not leave. IT DOES NOT LEAVE. It’s like Pet Semetary, it comes back to you again and again, you can’t escape it. But at ground zero, at a party, when someone burns shit on the stove, it immediately ends the party. Our hero knew this (somehow) and thus simply put the shit pan on high and waited briefly at the door to ensure that the plan matured in a suitable fashion. And then left.
That, friends, is how you end a Christmas party and really how you end Christmas. It’s awful and unique and the kind of depraved story we’re looking for. So get to it. Write me a story of your awful Christmas and win Holy Taco loot!