Being the First Part of the Gospel of Spoony, Regarding the Birth of Santa Christ
Title: Being the First Part of the Gospel of Spoony, Regarding the Birth of Santa Christ
Author: butterflyslinky
Characters: Spoony, Phelous, Film Brain, Critic, Nerd, Malcolm, Rachel, Tamara, Snob, Ask That Guy, Santa Christ, Insano, Linksano, Professor Celluloid, Chick, Linkara, with cameos from Elisa, Nella and Luke
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3378
Warning(s): Mpreg played for laughs, mocking of the nativity story and Christmas songs (in a loving way)
Summary: “Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed among us, Even as they delivered them unto us, which from the beginning were eyewitnesses, and ministers of the word; It seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write unto thee in order…That thou mightest know the certainty of those things, wherein thou hast been instructed.” (Luke 1:1)
Notes: This story is based off the nativity, heavily based on the Book of Luke, but with some references to other Christmas carols and stories and a few Santa Claus legends thrown in. This is intended as cracky satire and is not meant to be offensive to anyone. Special thanks to ladydiskette and pompoko for betaing.
It was in the year 2012, as estimated based on an oppressively religious calendar, that the prophet Spoony received his vision.
More specifically, he was possessed by a dead person and was thus allowed to see past, present and future all at once. No one was sure WHY this happened, other than to kickstart a plot that made no sense in retrospect, but it came to pass that he could see all.
And thus, as he was a prophet, he has been given the divine sight to tell the gospel of Santa Christ, and his humble beginnings.
These things can only be told by the Prophet Spoony, because everyone else involved had their memories wiped by that same Plot Hole.
Why?
Because it’s a dick, that’s why.
*
So it came to pass that in the year…well, before 2012, anyway, that the Plot Hole imparted a vision onto a nerd called Phelous, who was much in-tune with the mysteries of the earth and the subtleties of the Plot.
The vision foretold of the savior to come, and thus Phelous was sent to tell all of this miraculous coming, starting in the land of Chicago with the one called Film Brain, the sweetest, most innocent, and most coddled of Reviewers.
“Film Brain, do not be alarmed,” Phelous said to him. “For thou art the most blessed of Reviewers and unto thee a child will be born, of thy own womb.”
Film Brain was naturally very confused by this statement. “What do you me, of my own womb?” he asked in indignation. “I’m a male!”
“Yea, though you are indeed male, thou has nevertheless been given this blessing, for from thy body a Messiah will come…”
“Phelous,” Film Brain interrupted. “I. Am. Male. As in, a person with a penis. And no uterus. And therefore, nothing is coming from my body that anyone would call a Messiah!”
“The Messiah will be born of thee and the Plot Hole,” Phelous continued as though Film Brain had not spoken. “For its influence will give thee the necessary means to carry the babe, that shall be the savior of all of geekdom. And thee shall call it Santa Christ, and he shall lead the Reviewers out of the dark age, into a time of prosperity…”
“Seriously, stop talking like that,” Film Brain said. “And why do you know all this?”
Phelous shrugged. “I dunno. It just seemed in-character for me to know about the Plot Hole and all the crap that comes with it.”
“And why am I carrying the Messiah?” Film Brain sputtered. “Wasn’t there a woman who could do it?”
“Well, we needed an archetypal virgin. You know, someone sweet and innocent. And we don’t have a whole lot of people in our group who fit that type.”
“I’m not a complete virgin!” Film Brain protested. “Why does everyone always assume that I’m the innocent one?”
“You seem like it,” Phelous said. “And we don’t have a real virgin, so the next-most miraculous thing would be having a male pregnancy.”
“That’s not physically possible!”
“It is in this type of story,” Phelous snapped. “Do you want to be in this fanfic or not?”
“NO!” Film Brain shouted.
“Well, too bad, you are,” Phelous finished. “So blessed art thou, Film Brain, and thy name shall be remembered for generations to come.”
And thus the nerd left him, to continue to spread the word of the Messiah to come.
*
Now it was that Film Brain was betrothed to one Critic, of the house of Nostalgia. And thus the nerd Phelous came to Critic and said to him, “Lo. Thy betrothed Film Brain is with child, the most blessed child, who shall lead the Reviewers to Awesomeness.”
And Critic stared at him for a moment before answering, “What?”
“Thy beloved Film Brain shall have a child,” Phelous repeated patiently. “He hath been blessed by the Plot Hole, and thus shall carry the Messiah to birth.”
Critic blinked. “So…is it mine?” he asked warily.
“No,” Phelous answered. “It is the child of the Plot and the Plot alone.”
“Oh, thank god,” Critic said. “That means I’m not responsible for the child support!”
“Well…not really,” Phelous said. “See, you will be the Plot Hole someday, so you’re technically still responsible, so consider yourself the child’s earthly father.”
“…what?”
“You still have to pay for it.”
Critic sighed heavily. “Fuck,” he muttered. “All right, I guess…though people aren’t going to be very receptive to this idea.”
Phelous shrugged. “That’s not my problem,” he said. “Now, any idea where I can round up some shepherds?”
Critic thought for a moment. “Not a clue,” he said. “I guess you could just put out a casting call.”
“Good enough,” Phelous declared.
*
And so it came to pass that Film Brain, most blessed of Reviewers, grew great with child, and Critic, ever-loyal and afraid of the consequences, remained true to him.
But then the tyrant of their website, Michael Michaud, did declare that all Reviewers must gather for a convention, where they would promote themselves and take stock of all their forces.
The convention was to be in the land of Springfield, and so Critic sought a way to travel to the convention without straining his own resources. Alas, he had no means to travel, and so he simply set out on foot, with Film Brain at his side, complaining that they couldn’t just walk to Springfield, especially as the babe grew heavier.
“Seriously, couldn’t we get bus tickets?” Film Brain asked.
Critic did not answer, but continued the journey, guiding his betrothed by the hand. They travelled for many minutes before a miracle occurred and one of the great carriages stopped and the driver looked out.
“Need a lift, shit bag?”
And Critic did groan, for the driver was his mortal enemy, one Angry Video Game Nerd, who was watching the pair with amusement.
But before Critic could object to the aid, Film Brain spoke, and thanked the Nerd for his kindness.
“We need to get to Springfield for the convention,” Film Brain explained. “And your aid would be most welcome.”
And the Nerd did roll his eyes, lamenting what fools this pair were. “You were trying to walk to fucking Springfield?”
“Critic didn’t want to spend the money on a bus,” Film Brain explained, getting into the back of the car.
“We don’t need his help,” Critic protested.
“Just get in the fucking car,” Nerd snapped, and Critic did obey, though not without much grumbling.
And so they travelled to the city of Springfield, the Critic distraught and Film Brain great with child. And the Nerd did leave them at the hotel where the convention would be held.
Unfortunately, the hotel had been far over-booked, and there was no room to be had for the pair. So the Critic and Film Brain travelled further, to the home of Snob of the house of Cinema, in hopes that their friend would house them.
But when the Critic knocked on the door and begged entry, the Snob shook his head. “There’s no more room,” he said. “I’ve got pretty much everyone begging me to put them up for the night.”
“But there’s gotta be room!” Critic protested. “Look at Film Brain! Surely someone will give up a room for him!”
Snob did look at Film Brain, most blessed of Reviewers, and he did seem confused, but he only said, “The only space I have is in the garage. I guess you guys can crash there if you want.”
And with little other choice, Film Brain and Critic did agree to this, and thus were shown to the two-car garage, which was dark and damp and full of everything except for cars.
And they did try to make themselves comfortable with the blankets the Snob grudgingly provided, but it happened by the speed of Plot Convenience that the time had come for Film Brain to give birth to the child, who would be the Messiah, the Protector of Nerds, and the Defender of Reviewers.
And Film Brain, most blessed of Reviewers, did deliver his child through the miracle of the Plot Hole. Once the child had been birthed, the Critic did pick him up, and wrap him in a suit jacket, and he placed the child in a large toolbox with no lid. And he was named as the Plot Hole had declared, Santa Christ, the Messiah.
*
Now it was that Phelous, still seeking to spread the word of this miracle, held a casting call to find the shepherds that would be required. Alas that only three desperately out-of-work actors could be found, but they were all willing to do as was asked by the Plot Hole.
And it was their leader, who was called Malcolm, who asked, “So are the sheep provided, or do we have to go get our own?”
And Phelous did answer, “Peace, Malcolm. You will be provided with your herds in due course. But first, you must travel to the land of Springfield, where unto you a child has been born, the Protector of Geeks and Messiah of Nerds, he who will defend the Reviewers and destroy the bad movies that they see. And his name shall be Santa Christ, and you shall go and honor him, for it is the will of the Plot Hole, and he shall atone for all of your sins.”
And Malcolm and the others of his troupe, who were called Rachel and Tamara, did look at each other in consternation before Rachel asked, “How much are we getting paid for this?”
And Phelous did answer her, “Your travel expenses and all other costs, plus your herds and your costumes, along with a goodly fee for your time.”
And the three did agree to become shepherds, and to seek out the Messiah in the city of Springfield.
And Phelous did tell them to arrive in three days with their flocks, and they would find exactly what they were told.
*
And so Phelous did travel to the land of Springfield, so as to ensure the Messiah could be found by those who sought him.
By the will of the Plot Hole, Phelous had learned that Film Brain and Critic and their child were at the home of the Snob of the house of Cinema, and this house Phelous sought.
And the Snob did answer to Phelous’s knock, and was surprised at the appearance of his friend.
And the Snob did ask, “The fuck are you wearing?”
Phelous regarded the Snob for a moment before he answered, “I am the bringer of great news, for in yonder garage, where you have so heartlessly sent thy guests, a child is born who shall be the Guider of the Geeks, the Comforter of the Critics, the Messiah of all who follow in our footsteps as Reviewers.”
The Snob blinked and did say, “So…you put on a white dress and some cardboard angel wings to tell me that why?”
And Phelous did answer, “Because it is a tradition and I must keep it. Also, I need to borrow an outlet so I can plug in this search light to guide people to this place.”
And the Snob did ask, “Where do you plan to put that search light?”
“Upon the roof,” Phelous answered. “Where it will act as a beacon to all who come to worship the babe.”
“Yeah, fine,” the Snob answered. “But put it on a timer so it’s only going at night and you can answer questions if it violates any zoning ordinances.”
And so the beacon was lit, and Phelous took up residence beside it, to guide all pilgrims to the sight, to bring honor upon the most precious of children and the most blessed of Reviewers.
*
So it was that three days later, with the search light shining in the sky, that the shepherds arrived at the house of Cinema in the land of Springfield, and they did knock upon the door.
And the Snob did answer, with an air of annoyance that only grew when he saw his new guests. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
“We are the shepherds,” Malcolm answered. “Bidden by an angel and a boatload of cash to come to this place to seek the Messiah.”
And the Snob did sigh as he looked at the three. “If you’re shepherds, where are your sheep?”
“Oh my God, Snob, you can’t just ask people where their sheep are!” Phelous called down from his place on the roof.
And the Snob did roll his eyes at the obvious set-up of that reference, but his disgust was interrupted when Rachel did say, “Our flocks are here, as you can observe.”
And the Snob did look out of the house and let out a cry of indignation. “Those aren’t fucking sheep!” he did exclaim. “Those are fucking caribou!”
“Blame Phelous, he’s Canadian,” Tamara said, but Phelous protested.
“He’s Santa Christ, not Jesus!” Phelous said. “And thus we needed to have reindeer instead of sheep! And one of them is a donkey!”
“THEY’RE EATING MY GODDAMNED LAWN!” the Snob cried.
“Yeah, sorry,” Malcolm said. “We were just hired to this gig three days ago, we don’t really know how to herd reindeer. Or donkeys.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll reimburse you later,” Rachel assured him. “But now we’re supposed to see the Messiah.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the Snob muttered darkly. “He’s in the garage.”
And so the shepherds went to the garage, and they looked upon the Messiah and they did admire and do honor to him and to his worthy and blessed parents.
And Film Brain and the Critic were confused, but they accepted the honor done unto them and their child, lying in the toolbox.
And then Malcolm did ask of Phelous, “How long are we expected to hang around doing honor to this kid?”
And Phelous did answer, “You will remain until all have learned of the miracle brought unto them.”
And so the shepherds settled in for a long stay, with their reindeer and donkey outside, continuing to feast upon the lawn.
*
Word of the Messiah spread, mostly through the words of the Snob of the house of Cinema, who could not keep a secret nor pass up an opportunity to complain about his overabundance of unwelcome guests.
And Reviewers traveled from throughout the land to look upon the Messiah, to bring honor unto him and his blessed parents. And among them were some who were chosen to stay and complete the wholesome scene, as described in the songs of the prophets.
Among them was Luke, who came with his drum, and played for the baby, who smiled upon him, as did Film Brain, who was suddenly rethinking his engagement to Critic of the house of Nostalgia.
And also came Elisa and Nella, bringing a torch. When asked why this was, they said that they had been called retroactively by the French, and they would remain to help provide the light to guide others to this sacred place.
*
Word of the Messiah soon reached the ears of one Ask That Guy, a knowledgeable man who also came from the house of Nostalgia. And Ask That Guy was jealous, for he knew that the child the news spoke of would be wiser and more powerful than he, and would seek to rectify all his evils.
And so Ask That Guy summoned three scientists, the smartest of all those who dwelled in the Realm of Reviewing. And he told them to seek the child, who was a scientific miracle that he wished to be informed of.
But Ask That Guy deceived them, for he did not care for the science of the matter, but sought to destroy the babe, and his honored parents in further revenge. But he did not know where to find them, and he know that Critic would turn him away if he arrived openly.
And so the scientists set out from the east, bearing gifts of scientific interest, and their names were Insano, Linksano, and Celluloid. And they traveled many days, seeking the Messiah. But they did not know where to go, for Ask That Guy had not told them where the child would be found. And so they sought the nearest reviewer, who would surely have heard the rumors.
And it happened that the nearest reviewer was a cousin of Critic’s, one Chick of the house of Nostalgia. And she, annoyed at the constant bombardment of people asking after the Messiah, did tell the scientists that the child would probably be found in Chicago, for that was the land of his father Critic.
But after the scientists had left, she did feel guilt, for she knew that the Messiah would bring honor upon all who looked on him. So she set out herself, to find the scientists and rectify her mistake, but she could not find them, and could not catch up. She considered redeeming herself through any means, but then another prophet of the Plot Hole, known as Linkara, appeared before her.
And he said to her, “Do not fear, Chick, for the Messiah shall atone for your sin, and he shall ensure that no other becomes lost, and he shall give the children their due.”
And Chick was glad to know that the Messiah would look after her, and thus she returned to her home with an easy heart.
*
And so the scientists travelled to Chicago, only to find the Messiah was not there. And they despaired, for they much wanted to witness this miracle and see the child who would save the Reviewers from the worst of media.
But then the scientist Insano looked up, and he saw the light that Phelous had lit. And by divine inspiration, he bid his companions to follow him, seeking the bright light that shone across the miles from Springfield.
And thus the scientists arrived in Springfield, at the home of the Snob of the house of Cinema who, tired of pilgrims always pounding on his door, had placed a sign reading “This way to the Messiah” pointing to his garage, where Film Brain and Critic and the infant Santa Christ still dwelled. And the scientists saw it, and the reindeer and the donkey in the yard, and saw the light on the top of the house and the nerd sitting beside it, and they knew their journey was at an end.
And so they entered the garage, bearing gifts of chemicals, wires and gears, and they said unto Film Brain, most blessed of Reviewers, “We have come to pay honor upon thee and thy child.”
And Film Brain nodded and showed them the babe in the toolbox, and the scientists were filled with wonder, and thus did resolve not to tell jealous Ask That Guy where the child dwelled, knowing his parents would soon return him to Chicago.
And Critic did observe, that with shepherds and scientists and angels and other worshippers who kept being retroactively added, “This garage is getting awfully crowded.”
“Well, I don’t think we were all supposed to be here at once,” Malcolm said. “But we needed to form a complete and wholesome nativity scene, for this is the Messiah Santa Christ, who…”
“Yes, we know,” Film Brain interrupted. “Stop trying to pad out the word count.”
And they all gazed upon the child in the toolbox, and they felt joy in their hearts, for they knew they would all be saved.
And the child did grow by the power of Plot, so that by the time the convention was over, he was full grown and ready to go out as the Messiah. And so Santa Christ embraced his blessed parents, and swore always to protect and honor them, before he set out on his journey to become the greatest compilation of Christmas icons to ever be.
And thus, Phelous disconnected his search light, and the Reviewers all returned to their homes, with the memory of this day gone, as though it had all been part of a fever dream from a delusional reviewer.
*
And thus closes the first book of the Gospel of Spoony, who has seen much by the power of Plot.