Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Letters from Krampus #5

December 24th 2017 in Microfiction


Look, I know that I’m old and it may be tempting to say, “What does a sack-lugging goat demon know about how hard my life is?”, but I get it. 
I actually get it. 

What astounds me is how few of you pick harmony over truly bad behavior. You’re all lovely meat puppets built around Ziploc bags of water on a fuzzy, damp rock spinning in the blackness of space; you’re one big freaking cosmic monkey family. 

Why is it so hard to lighten up? 

I’ve torn a record number of sacks this year (full to bursting) and there’s no reason to think that tonight will be any different. All that I want is to quietly retire to my condo in Florida, where I’ll eat Cheetos in my underpants while listening to the ocean waves. This is my working definition of “heaven”; this is my bliss.
Do you have any concept of yours?

Soon, I’ll wrangle off the last of you and you’ll cry and you’ll shriek like the dickens while you’re being thrashed and you’ll beg for release … and for what? So that you can continue torturing the planet believing that none of the negativity will ever come back to you?

Get a grip or get the sack. 

Please make this a better year. 


Gawd, you’re heavy.


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