These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

With the nest, Ova and the evil spirit of Halloween locked away in its cage for another year,

we're now looking toward that great bearded terror from the North Pole.

We're boarding up our windows, we're polishing up our shotguns,

readying for his army of evil elves, terrible reindeer,

the leader of which dips its nose in the blood of its enemies. But

alas, we will not succeed. Not unless we band together. That's right. Absolutely. We've just

received three new soldiers in the war on Santa. Molly Westfield, who I believe has been

sharpening her teeth. We didn't ask her to do that. And when

I went to explain that, she bit my little finger off. Russ Taylor, master of making things explode.

You name it. Russ will explode it. Bread? Sure. Christmas stockings. You bet you. Little evil elves.

Well, that's kind of a plan. And will it will it dark my good friend will it dark my companion

will it dark who doesn't know yet but he is destined to become the next sorcerer supreme

and should actually be receiving the eye of agamoto through the post any day now via amazon prime

if you too want to hold up with us and the h&C officers and prepare for a blood-fueled fight

to the death with that jellybelly deadite

known as Sandy Clause,

go to patreon.com forward slash hawk and cleaver

and plagues from as little as a dollar a month.

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