Cheat Engine

Aniblaze · Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 6:44 pm Post subject: You guys, I did it!

I killed Santa! Never thought it'd take me a freakin' month to hunt him down, but I chased him right after he delivered all the packages in the mornin'. I used the stealth suit I borrowed from Jesus so as to rocket-slide over the water without being seen. Strangely enough he only made a pit-stop at the North Pole, to wish his wife a Merry Christmas apparently. At this point I figured that I had to revise my battleplan.

So I first set fire to his workplace, killing all the elves successfully. Well; not all of them, but a fair amount. I contemplated killing the horribly wounded ones, but I figured the disarray of fire and screams of agony would lure misses Clause out; and it did!

She was so fucking dumbfounded when I ninja-sliced her Achilles tendons. The weird part was that she could still feel me break her toes, one by one. I figured the horrible pain at the heel would pretty much block out the toe-breaking, but it didn't. Now I knew that it'd take Santa days, perhaps even weeks to arrive, because apparently he had to go all over the world, not just the Netherlands. And in my enthusiasm I had already killed all of the elves, so I had to make due with Misses Clause. I figured the best place to keep her was in the house, while improvising with some hardware I managed to salvage from the workplace.

Now you might think she's a wuss because she's old, but she was one tough lady. She even dared to call me a bastard and monster. At least I think she did; couldn't really tell after I crushed her jaw with a bench screw. She kept moaning incoherently, and crying while pointing at a picture of Santa on top of the mantel. I mean day-after-day-after-day she'd repeat the same routine, even after all the trouble I went through to keep things original. I even did a puppet show using the near-death elves as my puppets, where I depicted Santa and me, fighting to the death. But then again, the elves weren't really feeling my show, so that might have ruined the experience for Misses Clause. For a being that is supposed to be hardworking all year long, they sure gave a lazy impression, with a hint of disinterest. Well whatever, after my show I slit their throat and made Misses Clause drink it.

After two weeks of delivering packages, Santa Clause finally arrived. Now I had to act quick, so I bashed, bashed and bashed Misses Clauses' face in with a bat I found on one of the elves corpses from the workshop I burned prior to Misses Clauses' torture. Now I do have to admit, the finish on the bat was awful, but the quality and sturdiness of the bat could've pleased any professional athlete. I mean, just five hits from a rookie like me, and her face and neck were literally hanging by a thread.

Now at this point I contemplated leaving, whereas Santa would be crushed by the horrible deaths of his friends and wife. But as a solution to my doubt, I figured I'd wait a week to feed on his pain. He wouldn't notice me anyway, because Jesus' stealthsuit is freakin' awesome!

I tell you, Santa is a pitiful man... I figured he'd pick himself up, go train all that fat off to be in tip-top condition to face me in a death-match. But you know what he did? He began drinking. To boot, not even in his own house! He left the body of his wife in the house, and moved his ass to the shack next to it!

After prolonging my originally planned week with 4 days, I was done waiting. I decided he wasn't even worth my fucking time. So I walked to the shed to see what pathetic condition he was in, to only notice... he hung himself! I MEAN COME ON! After all the effort I put into laying out the groundwork, he hangs himself?! Strangely enough, the only thing that really dazzled me about this travesty, was the fact that the shed was able to support the weight of that fat tub of lard. At this point I no longer cared, I set fire to the shed after making some pictures I intend to distribute on fliers around Christmas, 2010.

Now I know what you're thinking; Technically I didn't kill Santa. But after all the effort I put into the emotional tear-down, I'd like to think that I did cause his death, if only indirectly.

Seasons greetings,
Augustine

PS: I shot Rudolph in the face. He died as he lived, crying like a bitch. Quite delicious though!