‘tis the season for (Noun)!
For those of you just tuning in for our 9th annual Christmas celebration, inspired by other bestselling Christmas novels about Jars, Sweaters, Boxes, Letters, and other assorted nouns, I decided to cash in too, and thus began the biggest, loudest, bestsellingest Christmas tie in book series ever. It is tradition that every December I release excerpts from this magnificent saga.
Here are our previous years of badly written Christmas adventures:
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN
Excerpts from my first epic Christmas novel, only with more Cthulu, zombies, and chainsaws. Young Tim overcomes his hatred of Christmas to defeat the anti-Claus in the Peppermint Thunderdome.
http://MonsterHunterNation.com/2008/12/22/the-christmas-noun/
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 2: THE NOUNENING
The much anticipated sequel to the greatest Christmas story featuring a noun ever. In this episode, Tim fights Stabby the Snowman and uses the Global Warming Power of Love.
http://MonsterHunterNation.com/2009/12/08/the-christmas-noun-2-the-nounening/
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 3D: THE GRITTY REBOOT
Christmas goes hard core as Rudolf leads the Reindeer Separatists in a jihad against Christmas.
http://MonsterHunterNation.com/2010/12/10/the-christmas-noun-3d-the-gritty-reboot/
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 4: OCCUPY CHRISTMAS NOUN
Tim and his adult son Tim Jr. have to save Christmas from being occupied by the 99%.
https://monsterhunternation.com/2011/12/19/christmas-noun-4-occupy-christmas-noun
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 5: FIFTY SHADES OF NOUN, CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE EDITION
Okay, that title pretty much explains this one.
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 6: YES, WENDELL, THERE REALLY IS A CHRISTMAS NOUN
Tim and Wendell the Manatee travel through time to save Christmas from a legion of footy pajama wearing hipster douchebags.
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 7: ATTACK OF THE SOCIAL JUSTICE NOUN
Tim has to protect the mall from the reality distorting powers of the nefarious Social Justice Noun.
https://monsterhunternation.com/2014/12/18/christmas-noun-7-attack-of-the-social-justice-noun
THE CHRISTMAS NOUN 8: Too Noun Much Adjective
Timmy must use the noun to protect Christmas from the worst threat it has ever faced.
https://monsterhunternation.com/2015/12/18/christmas-noun-8-too-noun-much-adjective
##
CHIRISTMAS NOUN 9: THE NOUNCHURIAN CANDIDATE
Written by Larry Correia
Directed by Paul Fieg, because nobody else would hire him after Ghostbusters
Produced by the team who made Ms. Sloan, because after that flop they were out of work and came cheap
Soundtrack by Sabaton (but bootlegged off of Youtube because we couldn’t afford the rights)
Opening narration by Ron Perlman
Ouch. Looks like there was some budget cuts because of last year’s Christmas Noun extravaganza. That’s because Larry spent all their money hiring the Rock… Good thing I’m still under contract! Crap. Light’s on. We’re recording. (clears throat)
Using the power of the Christmas Noun, our hero Tim had saved Christmas from eight consecutive years of terrible threats. However, Tim always had help. Without the assistance and guidance of the various Ghosts of Christmas Past/Present/Future/etc Tim would have failed and Christmas would have been destroyed forever.
This time the Forces of Evil realized that if they ruined Christmas Ghosting first, then destroying Christmas after that would be far easier. So with the election of new Christmas Ghosts looming, Evil made its move.
Plus, 2016 was the year of the reaper, so there were plenty of ghosts in the running. Death lurked around every corner. No, seriously. 2016 killed everybody. As a celebrity I’m lucky to still be alive. Hell, we’ve still got like two weeks left in Death Year. I’m scared to go outside.
Yet even in the darkest of darkness there shines the light of the Christmas Noun. Our only hope is for Tim and his merry band of Christmas warriors to protect the Christmas Ghosts, or all will be lost.
Because Christmas… Christmas never changes.
***
From Chapter 1
Tim was sitting on his couch, watching the SyFy Original Movie Obamaconda vs Trumptopus, when his cell phone buzzed.
It was Santa. “Hey, Santa.”
“Ho Ho Hello, Tim. I’m afraid we’ve got a situation at the North Pole.”
Christmas was coming, of course they had a situation. Tim sighed. Enjoying the quality film would have to wait. “Let me grab my throwing stars and nunchuks and I’ll be on the way.”
“Oh, Tim, it isn’t that kind of emergency. I just need your help ensuring the integrity of the democratic process. It’s an election year for Christmas Ghosts.”
Tim was confused. “Elections?”
“Why yes, Tim. I’m afraid we recently lost an ACLU lawsuit because all of our Christmas Ghosts over the last eight years of Christmas Noun stories have been living humans or manatees, and that this is discriminatory hiring practice is unfairly biased against actual ghosts.”
“Oh… Groovy. What about the existing Christmas Ghosts?”
“The Rock was disappointed that he was no longer able to serve as the Ghost of Christmas Present Tense, Self-Esteem, and Physical Fitness, but he wished the best upon whichever dead person would be taking over for him.”
“He’s such a great guy.”
“I know, Tim. All of the elves and reindeer miss him already. Meanwhile, Wendell the Manatee seemed rather gleeful that he had served all of his court mandated community service hours as the Ghost of Christmas Future Past, and was last seen swimming toward Florida.”
Tim knew that Wendell hated it at the North Pole. There where jerky Narwhals everywhere and the internet was terribly slow. “I don’t know, Santa. I’m a Christmas Warrior and manly man of action. I don’t think I’m the kind of guy you want involved in politics. Plus, with all these felonies I don’t think I’m allowed to vote anyway.”
“But Tim, you forget that Larry Correia is writing this story. There is sure to be gratuitous violence at some point. So I’m drafting you to be in the Secret Santa Service.”
Okay, that made sense. “Don’t worry, Santa. I’m on my way.” Tim hung up and called to his faithful, adorable, huggable, lovable, and merchandise-moving animal companion. “Come on, Superfluous Marketing Dog™! Let’s go elect some ghosts!”
“Woof,” said Superfluous Marketing Dog™ with grim determination.
***
From Chapter 2
“That is a lot of friggin’ ghosts,“ Tim muttered to Santa as they looked over the crowded debate stage.
“Yes, Tim. 2016 was a stone hearted killer. All of these candidates are from this year alone. Early polling indicates Alan Rickman is favored to win since he already participated in the greatest Christmas movie of all time. But there are so many wonderful ghosts to choose from.”
Sally Love-Interest had been super excited to participate in the democratic process, so had tagged along. “That’s great, Santa! But since they’re ghosts, couldn’t you use anybody who died a long time ago and not just 2016?”
“Ho Ho No, Sally… It’s in the by-laws.”
“Awww. That’s too bad. I was going to vote for Alvin and the Chipmunks. They’d make great Christmas Ghosts.”
“Those are animated cartoon characters, Sally.”
“Oh…”Sally was exceedingly disappointed. “Like Neil Patrick Harris?”
“No. He’s an actual person and he’s still alive.”
“Yeah.” Sally was suspicious. “I’m not so sure about that one, Santa.”
Sally Love-Interest was super hot, but nobody had ever accused her of being the sharpest knife in the drawer.
***
From Chapter 3
The North Pole had gotten crowded. First, with all the ghostly candidates, who were dead, and then with all the news media and reporters, who were sadly, not dead.
“This election has turned into a media circus,” Tim told Sally.
“Oooh, I like the circus.”
“It’s not a literal—”
“Will there be monkeys?”
Tim sighed. “Never mind. Just play it cool. The job of a Secret Santa Agent is to stand here in our suits and dark shades and ear pieces, looking tough, and keep an eye out for trouble. Santa wants this election to go smooth.”
There were two main parties, the Mistletoe party and the Tree party, and some little weird 3rd parties, like the Eggnog party, or the Democratic National Socialist Reindeer Liberation Front. The North Pole’s system required the various Christmas parties to pick their candidates first, then there would be the general voting for all parts of the workshop, and then each workshop section’s appointed rep would vote in the Elftoral Congress.
The Christmas Warriors settled in to watch the primary debates/talent show. First up was the Tree Party. Justice Scalia turned out to be a great ventriloquist. The musical number featuring Bowie and Prince was incredible. And the exhibition bout between Muhammad Ali and Nancy Reagan was one of the finest shows of martial excellence Tim had ever seen. Who knew the former First Lady could shatter that many cinderblocks with a single punch!
“There are so many super good candidates. There are people from Firefly, Star Trek, Babylon Five, and actual astronauts!” Tim was actually getting really excited. “Most of these people would make fantastic Christmas Ghosts. I’m really impressed. I don’t know who to vote for!”
“There are seventeen candidates running for the Tree Party nomination,” Sally said. “That seems like a whole lot. Aren’t they worried all the good ones will split the vote and they’ll end up with some weird crazy fringe oddball choice?”
“Don’t be silly, Sally. I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”
Then Harambe the Gorilla won the nomination.
Tim was aghast, but Sally was super happy. “Yay! I knew there would be monkeys!”
***
From Chapter 5
Tim was having a hard time understanding North Poleitics. The Mistletoe party’s primary rules allowed for Special Super Mega Delegates, so even though he had gotten less votes in pretty much every section of the workshop, losing to Janet Reno, the Mistletoe party’s inevitable nominee was Fidel Castro.
Of course, since Fidel Castro had been a brutal communist dictator who had ruled with an iron fist, the media loved him. They immediately launched a vicious smear campaign against Harambe the Gorilla, who spent most of his time picking and eating fleas from his own pelt.
The tiny Eggnog party, seeing that the two main party candidates were the least popular ever, decided this was finally their chance to be taken seriously by the whole workshop, seized the opportunity by having a really fat elf strip down to his under pants to dance on stage during their convention. Then they all got really stoned.
Meanwhile, Vixen the (alleged) reindeer terrorist from Christmas Noun 3, was picked to run for the Democratic National Socialist Reindeer Liberation Front. She was not able to give a speech at the DNSRLF convention because she was busy sabotaging an oil pipeline in North Dakota with pipe bombs.
***
The election was really heating up. The North Pole was polarized like never before. And that’s saying something.
Harambe the gorilla couldn’t really communicate except for randomly mashing his opposable thumbs against a keypad, so his campaign got him a Twitter account. This proved to be a brilliant maneuver.
Fred the elf was reading his phone. “Oh look. Harambe just tweeted.”
“What’s it say?” asked Bill the elf.
Xszdca;lsadxz;loxszdcal;/kds.;/lj
“Uh… If I squint real hard, it looks like he’s promising me whatever I want.”
“I think that means he’s going to build a wall to finally keep all these penguins out of the workshop.”
“But penguins aren’t native to the Arctic, Bill.”
“WHICH IS WHY WE NEED A WALL, FRED!”
Njmkjkjkjkm,nvb bn
“It’s like every populist thing I’ve ever imagined!”
“Harambe is like an empty vessel which can contain all my hopes and dreams. He’s going to make Christmas great again!”
L;.,7yku5jklm,;/,mn ,g nmbb
“Man, that gorilla tells it like it is!”
***
From Chapter 6
Tim was curious why a couple of suspicious men dressed all in black were poking around Santa’s Workshop in the middle of the night, so he tailed them as they broke in and began tampering with the computers the Mistletoe party had just left unsecured in a janitor’s closet.
“Hey, what’re you guys doing back here?” Tim asked, interrupting the thugs’ suspicious business.
“Well we are not doing the hacking of the election, that is for certain, comrade!” said one of the men in a really bad TV Russian accent. “We are totally not KGB or anything like that… We are… Uh…” He glanced around.
“From the internets company! For the fixings of your internets,” said one of the other suspicious totally not Russians, who had a hammer and sickle tattoo on his bicep.
“Oh, good. My manatee friend said that the lag up here is unbearable. His win rate on Call of Duty was in the crapper. You guys have a good one.” Tim waved and began walking away, whistling.
The totally not Russians waited a moment to be sure Tim was gone. “That was close, comrade!” Then they went back to their nefarious sabotage. “We were almost discovered in our diabolical plot to steal the election.”
Tim suddenly appeared from the darkness behind them. “I knew it! Damned Russians! Shoo!”
“Ah! The Christmas warrior is stealthy like ninja! Run!”
“Not so fast, Ivan.”
“Wait… How you know my name is Ivan?”
Tim kung-fu chopped him in the neck.
***
Despite the magnificent fight scene in the previous chapter, the Mistletoe party’s internal communications still got hacked. It turned out that despite Tim karate fighting his way through an entire Spetsnaz detachment, it was all for nothing, because the Mistletoe Party’s password was PASSWORD123.
Mistletoe Party internal communications like the following were leaked across the North Pole:
From: JohnPodesta@Castro2016.com
Hey everybody. Good news. The ceremony where we sacrifice a virgin to Moloch in exchange for power now has an open bar! How cool is that? I’ve got to warn you though, the ceremony is business casual. That means no flip flops, looking at you, Huma.
Also I know our voters are a bunch of idiots, and the Affordable Christmas Act is bankrupting all the elves, but can we at least try and stick to the narrative? Harambe voters eat penguins. Yes, I know Fidel brutally machinegunned a whole flock of penguins like ten minutes ago, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is continually berating and insulting everyone who doesn’t agree with us. Remember, work closely with our media brethren and stick to the script!
From: Chrismatthews@MSNBC.com
RACIST? RACIST RACIST RACISTY RACIST?
From: JohnPodesta@Castro2016.com
Yes, Chris. That script is perfect. Run with that. By the way, we got you guys’ debate questions in advance so Fidel will have plenty of time to prep! Good work, big fella! See you at the blood sacrifice!
***
From Chapter 8
You are listening to NPR. North Polar Radio.
“Welcome to Pole Talk, the completely unbiased nonpartisan always truthful news show, where we discuss the issues facing Santa’s Workshop and you… Our first topic: allegations of collusion between the media and the Fidel Castro campaign. We talked to our experts.”
“There is nothing to see here.”
“Excellent. Now our second topic: Harambe, Genocidal maniac or idiotic murder ape? All reasonable and good thinking elves agree that Harambe is a menace, and anyone who would even slightly agree to any of his mad ramblings is a terrible, awful, bad person. But let’s delve deeper. We have guests from both sides of the political spectrum in the studio with me now. What do you think of Harambe, Flaming Pinko Pundit?”
“Harambe will make the rivers run red with blood, which is very bad for the environment. While Fidel Castro has a proven track record of managing the tough issues. And if you’ve ever heard anything negative about his island paradise, it is only because you’ve been lied to by evil corporations. Cubans enjoy building rafts out of beer coolers.”
“Thank you, Flaming Pinko Pundit. Now from the other side of the aisle, what do you think, Screaming Liberal Pundit?”
“Well obviously anybody who doesn’t want to vote for Fidel Castro just hates penguins and sugar plum fairies and wants them rounded up and gassed in death camps.”
“Well there you have it, folks. We will continue to berate and insult anyone who disagrees with our take on the issues from now until the coronation… er… I mean election. Luckily for us, our totally accurate and unbiased polls indicate that Fidel Castro is up 96 to 3, with 1 percent going Egg Nog, and that Harambe supporters should just kill themselves now.”
***
From: JohnPodesta@Castro2016.com
What do you mean the gorilla won? AAAAAAHHHHHH! I even changed our password to PASSWORD1234! How can this be! Damn it, Moloch! We had a deal!
From: Moloch@lordsofdeath.gov
Our agreement stated that Fidel would get more votes, not that he would win. Check the fine print, fleshling. YOUR SOULS ARE MINE! BWA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAA!
From: Chrismatthews@MSNBC.com
RACIST??
From: JohnPodesta@Castro2016.com
No Chris! It isn’t over yet! Fidel’s victory was inevitable! INEVITABLE! We will not accept defeat! Assemble your media minions and redouble your efforts. If you can’t find a gorilla supporter who did something scary out of millions of voters, make some up! I want riots! Panic attacks! Hyperventilating snowflake break downs! There is still the Elftoral Congress. Until then we will burn the workshop down! Our new plan to win the election we just lost is to throw the biggest temper tantrum in history!
From: Moloch@lordsofdeath.gov
Uh… I’m a foul demon from the underworld and even I’ve got to say that’s kind of messed up.
***
From Chapter 10
“Why are those reindeer setting that stable on fire?” Sally asked. “Isn’t that where they live?”
“Yeah. They’re doing it because they got so freaked out believing their own ridiculous apocalyptic hype, that they see penguin eating gorillas around every corner. But at least they quit blocking traffic with their bodies after that snowplow went through,” Tim said as he watched the angry mob.
The North Pole had descended into chaos as the Mistletoe party voters had taken to the streets. But as hard as they were taking their loss, the media who had been covering the election were taking it so much worse. Keith Olberman had actually covered himself in sackcloth and ashes. Tim didn’t even know what sackcloth was.
Then Tim noticed that his wife was wearing a big red MAKE CHRISTMAS GREAT AGAIN hat. “Are you trying to get us killed? Take that off!” But it was too late. The “peaceful protestors” had seen them and were headed their way with torches and pitchforks. “Run for your life!”
***
From Chapter 12
Tim woke up in one of the North Pole’s secret prison cells. He had been captured. Tim cursed himself for not realizing that his eggnog had been spiked until it was too late. And then Tim realized who had kidnapped him.
“Julian Assange!”
“That’s right, Tim. It is I! Julian Assange!” said Julian Assange.
“But I saw you get devoured by piranhas back in Christmas Noun 4.”
“3. It was during the 2010 Gritty Reboot.” Julian Assange corrected Tim. “But I, and Wikileaks, have returned to the spotlight.”
“So sabotaging the Mistletoe Party is all your doing? But why?”
“Well, to be fair they kind of sabotaged themselves, Tim. They ran a candidate so lackluster they lost to a literal gorilla. I mean come on, did any of that stuff I revealed actually surprise anybody?”
Tim shrugged, which was difficult since he was tied to a chair. “Eh. Not really.”
“See? There you go. But if you must know the reasons behind my nefarious plot, it is because the Mistletoe party used to love me. Back when I was exposing bad things about George Bush, they loved me so hard that they got Benedict Cumberbatch to play me in the movie! But then once I revealed bad things about their guys, I was no longer invited to play in their reindeer games! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? My heart shrank three sizes that day!”
And then Julian Assange launched into a whimsical musical number.
Tim began struggling against his bonds. He really hated Christmas musical numbers.
Luckily, a few minutes into the villain’s choreographed dance routine, Sally Love-Interest dramatically crashed a stolen sleigh through the secret prison’s wall.
“Sally! You rescued me!”
“Whoa… Tim? Hey! Yeah, I was totally searching for you and not just spinning doughnuts in the parking lot.”
“Guards! Seize them!” Julian Assange ordered.
“The bad guy is Bandersnatch Cumberbund? But I loved you as Captain America!”
Tim sighed. As a huge sci-fi/fantasy nerd, it pained him when his wife got movies mixed up. “Just get us out of here, Sally! We’ll go on IMDB later and I’ll explain everything.”
***
From Chapter 13
The Elftoral College had turned into a hyper-violent blood soaked battle royal.
After stopping Keith Olberman from going up the clock tower with a sniper rifle, and valiantly defusing Chris Matthews 5XL suicide vest, Tim bravely rushed to the stage, and leapt between the two battling sides. He held up the Christmas Noun (insert cool Lord of the Rings style CGI shockwave effect here!) and knocked everyone down.
“The power of the Christmas Noun compels you!” Tim shouted. The elves, reindeer, nut crackers, sugar plum fairies, polar bears, penguins, and sentient gumdrops quit fighting each other. “Now shut up and listen. First one of you chuckleheads so much as looks at the other side funny, gets a sharpened candy cane in the eye, so help me, Santa.”
That shut them up, because after 9 years of Christmas warrioring, Tim was pretty badass.
“Look at you, guys. You’ve forgotten the true meaning of Christmas! It’s like love and stuff! Mistletoe, you’re being a big bunch of babies. You ran an unlikable jerk and lost fair and square, so no, you don’t get a Do Over.”
The embarrassed Mistletoe voters looked down sheepishly at their pointy elf boots.
“And Tree Party, you pinned all your hopes and dreams on a great ape. So maybe you shouldn’t get cocky yet.”
Harambe made incoherent grunting noises. Suspiciously, he had penguin feathers in his teeth.
“Okay, yeah, 2016 was really weird. Don’t blame me. I tossed a protest vote to Eggnog. But what’s done is done. The North Pole has made it through all sorts of crappy Christmas Ghosts before, and who knows, Harambe might not totally suck! Now if we’re still going to have Christmas, we need to get our crap together, and quit freaking out over obvious nonsense. Can you guys just shake on it?”
Harambe glared at Fidel Castro, but slowly extended one of his hands.
“Do it for Christmas…” Tim urged.
Fidel grudgingly shook on it. But then Harambe ripped Fidel Castro’s arm off and beat him with it, because he was after all, an eight hundred pound silver back gorilla.
“Damn it, 2016! You murderous bastard year!” Tim shouted. “Can’t you give us a break already?”
“Establish dominance, Fidel!” someone urged, but it was already too late. The Elftoral College once again erupted in violence.
Ten minutes and another shockwave from the Christmas Noun later, Tim got the two sides separated and tried again, but Tim really sucked at motivational public speaking, and his eloquent manatee was back in Florida sipping mojitos. Luckily, Zsa Zsa Gabor showed up at the last minute and gave a very impassioned speech that got everybody calmed down just in time to save Christmas.
***
Epilogue Narrated by Ron Perlman
Christmas was saved once again.
Tim and Sally returned to their Black Tiger Kung Fu Dojo and Mall Santa Prep Academy for Disadvantaged Youths. Sadly, because of Tim’s Christmas Noun saving deadline he was unable to see Rogue One on opening night, and had to wait until the next Tuesday. Because in war, sometimes sacrifices had to be made.
After getting .001% of the vote, Vixen from the Democratic National Socialist Reindeer Liberation Front demanded a recount. The recount made big news until Harambe actually gained votes.
John Podesta changed his email to PASSWORD12345 and to this day whenever he trips on something or bumps his head, he angrily shakes his fist at the sky and curses the Russians.
Dejected, the news media fled the North Pole. Santa put them all on the naughty list.
There was a glimmer of hope for the future, because Harambe wisely picked Chesty Puller to be Ghost of Christmas Future Butt Kicking and Name Taking.
Shockingly, none of the many celebrities who threatened to move to Canada if Harambe won actually left.
Because Christmas… Christmas never changes.
