Little Known Legendary Creatures # 5 – Chihullama

The Noble Chihullma
In the fifth installment of Lesser Known Legendary Creatures we take a look at the noble Chihullama. Of all discussed legendary creatures thus far, this creature is the least remembered and is the origin of how chihuahuas and llamas came into existence as separate creatures.


Origin
Where the legend originates is a bit of a mystery. Both the Peruvians and Mexicans have different stories of how the chihullama came to seperate into both the chihuahua and the llama, as well as where the creature was originally.

According to Mexican folklore documented in Libro Tonto de Los Muertos, written by Elver Galarga, the chihullama originated in Mexico and went south to Peru, becoming more of the llama (presented in original as written in Pidgin):

As the creature continued to move painimautim south, parts of the kaikai long belo began to disappear karamapim tok more of the llama began to take over. The large, rough terrain as horrible on the poor chihullama with its short blut i kamap karamapim tok legs. Longer fur karamapim tok wanpela longer blut i kamap was needed to keep the anka moving karamapim tok warm in the colder climates as it moved to the mountainous regions. Over time, balus bamim the llama remained karamapim tok that is why those lusim peruvians have llamas!

The Peruvians believe quite the opposite, feeling that the creature started completely as a llama and began to change into the chihuahua on its way to Mexico. Written in the historical document, Libro Masivo de Criaturas Locas, written by Pachuco Pollito el Hermoso, in the opening message to the reader:

Darlings, what is most important to remember about the chihullama is that it is a transitional creature, much like me. Originally nothing more than a llama, the magnificent creature was nothing more than a llama, but as the terrain changed to be more fit for the dirty, lazy streets of Mexico where it became the chihuahua, forced to hunt mice, sweethearts. Lazy wetbacks changed our noble creature into a street urchin!

Unsurprising, the occult book written by Reginald Scot, titled Demons in the New World, records the creature but in a slightly different light:

Chihullama are less of a demon and more of guiding spirit, helping those who travel up and down the connecting land between North and South America. Originally confined to El Salvador, the spirits were often trapped and taken with merchants to keep them company on the long trips, as well as ward off evil entities such as the El Cucuy and Luz Mala. Adapting to its new environments, the chihullama became smaller and more dog like moving into Mexico and more llama like moving down into Peru. Both people continue to fight over its origins.


Powers
Known to have different powers depending on individual creatures itself, the chihullama is the original inspiration for The Little Ponies: Magical Friends. Each chihullama was said to possess one specific power, such as bringing rain, regulating sunshine, and even picking apples.

According to Falsum Libro Daemones, the Even Lesser Key of Solomon the King:

The fifteenth hundred point two spirit is the Chihullama. It is a mighty and noble creature with one of many abilities assigned to it at birth. While one chihullama may regulate the hours of the day, another may deliver mail. Dashing rainbows across the sky may be the signature of one creature, while making sculptures may be another. Each chihullama has but one power it can possess, but that does not limit the amount of creatures which may also have that particular power.


Residence
As discussed before, there is some disagreement on where the chihullama originated to become the two creatures we know today, but one thing everyone agrees on is that Central America is where the creature was found in its full chihullama configuration. Because it is a mixture of the chihuahua and the llama, everyone also agrees it lived in more mountainous regions of Central America.

In modern day there have been reports of the creature in Volcán Tajumulco and Montañas Peña Blanca. People claim to see both the mostly black and the brown versions of the creature. Taken from one of the guest logs at the Cerro Chirripó visitor’s station, author unknown:

I couldn’t believe it! There my girlfriend and I were enjoying the view when suddenly the most noble creature I have ever seen came walking out of the tree line below us. At first my girlfriend and I didn’t believe what we were seeing, being that we were stoned out of our mind, but sure enough it was the chihullama! It had a long, shaggy neck like a llama, but the coloring, body, and head of a chihuahua. I’m pretty sure that’s good luck seeing it!!!


Role in Modern Society
There isn’t much role for the creature in modern society as most people are happy with either a chihuahua or a llama. While the creature would be a great source of warmth thanks to a plush, thick coat and be unbelievably adorable, the mixture of a chihuahua barking out of control along with the humming of a llama would be unbearably annoying. Also, because the creature is somewhere between the size of a full grown llama and a chihuahua, it would be impossible to put one in a purse.

For those wishing to see the creature, it is absolutely inadvisable to try mating a llama with a chihuahua! Instead, book a trip to one of Central America’s many famous mountain ranges and believe with all your heart. Llamas like broccoli and chihuahuas actually really like cheese. Just be sure not to present cheese infested with Cheese Goblins. That would just be rude.


Summoning and Spiritual Ranks
There is no known direct method of summoning the chihullama and they may even simply be attracted to a person with enough belief and love in their hearts for the creature.

Rank: Exousia
Sign: 29° – 53.32° Leo (July 23 – July 24)
Time of Day: Midday
Planet: Chiron
Metal: Densinium
Command: 8 Platoons
Tarot Card: Squatting Donkey

Blue Dawn: Recounting the Smurf War

Pride. They say pride comes before the fall. The Bible says in Proverbs 16:5, “Everyone who is proud in heart is an abomination to the LORD; Assuredly, he will not be unpunished.” Pride is even defined by Merriam-Webster as “A feeling that you are more important or better than other people.” It is pride  exactly why the world suffered the tragedies during what we now call The Blue Dawn when we battled against the Smurfs. Tragedy is a soft word compared to the horrendous nature of the event, and only those who fought, survived, and are now haunted by the event can tell the true nature of what actually happened.

Recounted here is but one soldier’s experience during the war. Yes, it is heavily abridged, as the tale is long and melts the iciest of hearts. The information comes from many points of view and are woven together in this yarn as one cohesive piece told from the first person. As the dawn gives way to the twilight, so to does the darkness give way to light, even if the soothing morning light feels more distant and slower to come than the blanketing of darkness. We will live. We will heal. We must never forget.


Blue on Black: When it began

BRRZ! BRRZ! BRRZ! The alarm set on my cell phone next to my bed screamed as though it were a banshee alerting the world to its arrival, while the vibration function I always had set caused the phone to dance on the wireless charging port. Groaning, I turned and picked the wicked thing up, desperately trying to slide the screen to “off”. With so much fog in my head and blurring in my eyes, my phone fought with me all the way to the bathroom. I swear, this damned device knew me too well to simply be allowed to shut off right away.

Managing to silence this accursed device, I looked down as I began to brush my teeth. 4:01 AM Central European Time Zone (GMT+1). Formation would be at 5:00 AM and I couldn’t be late. I was never late. I’m sure everyone wants to know…and yes…I was stuck with a “bad company”, but not because I was a screw up or a criminal. Don’t get me wrong, most of the people I served with were. I just had a “bad attitude” and pissed off the wrong people enough times to end up here. They thought it would be hilarious to make me a corporal instead of a sergeant and put me in charge of a squad of people who were both accused and convicted of crimes, but their efficiency and penchant for acceptable violence would have been wasted in the stockade over in Leavenworth. The one blessing, however, is I was at Caserma Del Din, attached as back up for the 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team.

I had just jumped into the shower and allowed the warm water to massage my body, washing away the previous day and cleansing me for the new to day to come, when I first felt it.

Rattle. Rattle. Small shake.

At first I payed little attention to it, rationalizing it as me being still in the process of waking up.

Rattle. Stronger shake. Rattle. Rattle.

There it was again. This time, a little heavier and more obnoxious. I stepped forward in the shower, the water still hitting my back, and touched the wall. Maybe it was just the water heater or the pipes?

Boom followed by an extremely large tremor then rattling and shaking. I heard the sirens going off, so I swiped the razor down my face one last time and leapt out of the shower with the fury of a honey badger. I had never dressed so fast in my life and I left the house with such fever that I didn’t even bother to lock my door.

My god. The world was on fire! Explosions rocked the area not far from me and the smoke was filling the sky. Many of the families were screaming and making their way to the designated safe zones.

“Calahan! WAIT UP!” I called out to one of my platoon mates and jumped into the street as I saw him rushing up in a jeep.

“Abromoff! You’re alive!” Calahan screamed after his vehicle came to a screeching halt, “Get the fuck in!!!” I didn’t need any convincing, and I jumped into his HMVEE. I was barely inside when he took off down the street. Looking around, I saw several of my squad mates in the vehicle as well, looking as confused and amped up as I was.

“God damn Muslim invasion?!” Murai asked, looking around at the chaos outside.

“No fucking way, dude!” Garney stated, as if he already knew, “There’s no way they could catch us that off guard! Not here, man!”

“Then what the hell is going on? Who’s attacking us?!” I asked, knowing full well no one else knew, but I couldn’t help it. I was nervous and angry. Calahan was doing one hell of a job as he drove through the bits of upturned asphalt and pot holes. There was  suddenly flash of light and pressure. I remember hearing Calahan say, “Oh sh..” before the noise deafened me.

What is it like to be in an explosion? Pressure, heat, and chaos. It is all pressure, heat and chaos my dear friends. If ever in my life I had known I was to avoid Hell at all costs, this was it. The ringing in my ears was unbearable and I was so disoriented I couldn’t even understand that I was still alive, and relatively unhurt. I crawled several feet through the wreckage before having enough strength to push myself up onto my knees, belly down. Strange how in these moments you can remember some things so clearly and focus on something that seems so irrelevant… Below me was a piece of yellow paper. I reached down and picked it up.

“Wrapping paper?” I thought as I wrinkled it in my fist. I must have blacked out at that moment, because the next thing I remember is being draped across Captain Santos’ shoulder as he ran down the street and into a building. Guess I made some kind of noise, because he set me down gently in a chair and knelled in front of me.

“Abromoff? You with me? Hey! You with me soldier?” Santos asked, gently slapping me on the face. I could hear again. Thank God. Still, I could only nod in affirmative and weakly salute.

“Good!” he stated and stood up, and looked around the room, “Now listen up, assholes. We’re obviously being invaded. Every major military installation across the world is being hit right now.”

“God damn sand niggers!” I heard a voice in the back call out.

“Shut your god damn cock holster, private! This is no Islamic Jihad! When I say EVERY major military installation across the world is being hit, I mean EVERY nation and EVERY military is being hit! Terrorist training camps are being wiped out left and right,” Captain Santos informed everyone. There was a hush which actually helped me snap out of my daze.

“If it’s not a Jihad, what is this, sir?” I asked, finally able to speak and sitting up straighter.

“I saw it,” I heard Calahan say. He was alive? Oh thank god…so was Murai and Garney! Those three were always the luckiest sons of bitches I had ever known. Their luck must have rubbed off on me.

“What did you see, private?” Captain Santos asked with absolute interest.

“What’s attacking us. Well, I didn’t see it really clearly, but, I swear to you god…Look, I’m not trying to get a fucking section 8 here, okay?” Calahan stated, waiving his hands at everyone, “I’m not a fucking lunatic, got it?”

“Well, what the hell did you see?!” Winther, one of our sergeants asked, “That’s an order. OUT WITH IT!”

“Okay, look…it was small so I didn’t see it all that well, but it right before the explosion I swear I saw something blue running away just before from where the explosion happened,” Calahan told him.

“What?!!” a voice I didn’t recognize at the time shouted from behind me.

“That’s all I’m saying!” Calahan stated and sat back down.

“Right. At least it’s something. We’re two blocks from the armory. Everyone stick together and move like a god damn trained platoon of soldiers, got it?!” Captain Santos shouted and moved toward the back door indicating everyone to follow him.


Truth is a Stranger Thing Than Fiction

Two months. It had been two months since the start of the attack and we still couldn’t believe what was happening. The Smurfs. The god damn fucking Smurfs were attacking us all around the world. Many people didn’t even believe they existed, or even knew, kind of how some people thought Narwhals are mythical creatures, even in this modern day. What did we really know about them anyway? The information we had said there was only one village in a place called The Forbidden Forest, either in France or England. Story goes only the Smurfs and Mother Nature knew the actual location. There was a place in Juzcar, Spain nicknamed The Smurf Village because of the blue houses. We thought they were doing it as a joke and a simple reference. No one thought it was to appease the ever growing angry and violent Smurfs in the area. How were we supposed to know there was more than one Smurf village?

We had been moved to RAF Lakenheath to get briefed on a counter attack in order to take back London. This entire thing was a shit show from the beginning. We had been caught with our pants down because we thought the Smurfs were beneath us, in stature, in resourcefulness, and in technology. Smurfs are 3 inches to 7.5 inches tall? My ass. These things were proportioned like the cartoon drawings of them, but stood on average four feet tall. Strong as hell, too. What they lacked in pure military training they made up for in pure aggression. No idea how many of these things they were. They seemed endless.

All said and done, my battalion had lost over 100 men and we were nearing bare bones in supplies. This was going to be one last ditch effort to get a supply line back as well as take back a major city. We were beginning to see success in many locations by changing our tactics. War was never going to be the same, because if World War II didn’t end all wars, this was simply teaching every military regime in the world a different way to fight…and human nature always proves we’ll use it against each other rather than a realization we need to stop fighting all together.

Every time we had a briefing it was depressing. We were being told we were going to fight, but then we never would. Every briefing ended the same: Promises of action followed by waiting around. The Army motto really should just officially change to “Hurry and Wait!”

“Something has been bothering me,” Garney stated as we made our way to the briefing room.

“Just one thing?” I asked mockingly.

“Oh, fuck you,” Garney said in defense, “Remember when this all started and Calahan said he saw something small run away from where the explosion happened? Then why are we fighting Smurfs the size of middle school kid?” This was a fair question, and one no one even seemed to consider or bring up. Why were the Smurfs so tall? Did we just have the wrong information? Were there smaller Smurfs sent out for recon? If so, then how could we ever know if we were being watched? They’d be like rats sneaking in to the pantry through the tiniest hole.

“Look, what I saw was small. I don’t know why these ones are big, okay?” Calahan stated flatly.

“Who cares. Just let me kill more. I haven’t killed enough of those peyos!” Murai stated and pounded his chest. It was a sentiment I agreed with, but never actually said out loud. We had taken to offensively naming them peyo after the scientist who first recorded them back in the 1950’s and published the earliest research papers about them. Before that, they were either considered extinct or a myth. Like the coelacanth.

We reached the briefing room and took our usual seats. That’s strange…leading today’s briefing was as colonel leading the briefing today. Colonel Finch, actually. She had earned a reputation for going out into the field and fighting, actually leading charges, rather than sitting back and drinking while wondering if there really was a battle even actually going on. This woman had bigger and badder balls than most of the people I knew. Probably even myself.

“No way!” I heard Murai whisper as he saw the colonel standing at the front and beginning the presentation, “If she’s here…we might actually get to do something.”

“Alright. Everyone shut up and listen because this is important, I out rank you, and we’re going full battle rattle after this!” Colonel Finch belted out. It was like she was wearing a microphone with how powerful her voice projected, “We’re taking London back. TODAY. I will not settle for anything less than complete victory and no casualties. This is a four part strike mission. You are part three of this four part attack and we don’t have much time for me to go over this. Starting at 0200 this morning and continuing on was the first part of the campaign. Leading the attack was the 302d Fighter Squadron, The Red Devils, accompanied by the 77th Fighter Squadron, The Gamblers to take down the outside air patrols. At 0300 this morning the 6th Bombardment Squadron, Very Heavy, North Field, started a two hour bombing campaign to take out strategic locations around London. Yes, we did confirm the use of portals by the Smurfs, however, it seems these portals are tied to specific locations and if the integrity is not maintained, the portals shut down…seemingly for good. Now it’s your turn, soldiers. You’re all going in with heavy ground support to mop up any left over resistance. Report to your commanding officers for deployment order and what armor division you will be escorted by. MOVE YOUR ASSES OUT NOW!!!”

Everyone leapt from their seat and began to file out. We already had our gear ready for us, so it was a simple matter of picking it all up, getting hemmed up and in line. We were greeted by Captain Santos ordering everyone as close to him as possible instead of us getting to formation.

“Listen up, you sacks! We’re moving in first. That’s what being in a bad company means! I have been informed once this is all over, anyone surviving this bullshit is getting a full pardon and an honorable discharge…if they want to leave. Just remember that if you’re thinking about dying! Die and you’re still a criminal, got that?!” he shouted out. Everyone shouted a loud, “Yes, sir!” and he continued, “Alright, we’re moving out with the 40th Armor Division. They’ll watch our asses, so you make sure they don’t get blown to shit, got that?! NOW MOVE!!!”

We all ran to the APC closest to us and crammed in.

“God damn…we’re really putting our trust in a bunch of weekend warriors form California?!” I heard a familiar voice ask.

“When was the last time any of us had time off? Do you really think people are only here on the fucking weekends now? Shut the fuck up!” I heard Sargent Winther shout out from somewhere in the APC.

“Point taken!” the voice familiar voice said again. This time, I had peeked around Garney and saw who was talking. God damn…it was Sergeant Bennett. He was smiling like a maniac and holding his M24. We had a sniper on our team and it was one of the best I had ever known. I felt better.

The entire ride into London was silent. At least inside the APC. Outside, explosions and gun fire rank out like it was a birthday party gone crazy. Once the doors opened, the silence was shattered with screams and the thunder of foot steps as we piled out and made our way to cover. Captain Santos gave the orders on where each squad was to move into and we moved without question. We were going to clear standing buildings looking for surviving peyo…I mean Smurfs and either take them out or capture them. It was our discretion. We knew no one in my squad was doing to take anything alive. I wasn’t about to make them and I had no desire to.

For hours we cleared the way and killed any Smurf we came across. All around us the sound of gun fire became more and more sparse and the skies were cleared of any opposition. Silence was once again beginning to become normal until an explosion rocked on of our HMVEE ahead of us, killing everyone inside. Was it a mortar? No…we didn’t hear it fall…and the blast had been directed toward the car…this was an IED. God damn Smurfs were starting to play dirty again.

“Fuck, man! What the fuck!” Murai shouted, as we hunkered behind some rubble, regrouping.

“Anyone see who did it? Anything?!” I shouted at my squad. No one had seen anything except the explosion. Fluttering down like a peaceful snowflake in front of me was something yellow on one side and white on another. I reached out and grabbed it. “Wrapping paper?” I asked out loud in thought. Suddenly the memory of the beginning of the war spring board to the front of my mind.

“It’s what?” Garney asked, reaching for the paper, “It is wrapping paper…”

“This is the same thing I saw back when we were hit in Italy…must be the same mother fucker!” I seethed in anger, gripping my weapon.

“There! Off to the side! Two blocks up!” one of my squad mates shouted. I looked over the rubble pile and saw a Smurf running down the road carrying a yellow box with a red bow. He placed it down at the side of the road and began running toward us again…reaching behind him and producing another box of the same nature. He must have been using some kind of portal to bring the boxes to him, because there’s no way he was carrying these things in a pocket.

“That’s the son of a bitch putting down IEDs!” I said and grabbed the radio, “Hey, Sargent Bennett! About two blocks up! Smurf running with an IED! Yellow box and red bow! WE gotta stop him!” I didn’t receive a response on radio, instead, I heard the report of a rifle followed by a large explosion from where the Smurf was. Pieces of blue flesh rained down on us for a few seconds.

“I got that joker. Thought he was fucking funny, did he?” I heard Sargent Bennett report over the radio. After that…everything went quiet and we regrouped.


Hammer of Thor: Lightening Doesn’t Need to Strike Twice

We thought we had won. We thought we were victorious. We were so sure of ourselves that we let down our guard and didn’t see we were exactly where the enemy wanted us. The true enemy. The one who was pulling all the strings. Pride is a bitch.

Everyone had just sat down to have some nice HOT A’s and to relax when there was a commotion from the helicopter landing pads. Jumping up, I rushed past everyone to see what was going on. The heftiest Smurf I had ever seen beating soldiers with his bare hands. Others had opened fire on him, but it seemed to be doing little. That’s when I saw it, but no one else had. Some Smurf with more brains than brawn jumped into one of the Blackhawks and was taking off. There was no way I was going to get to the helicopter before it took off, but I knew being down even one chopper at this point would be extremely handicapping and something so mobile in the hands of the Smurfs would be disastrous. What could I do, though? The Blackhawk was already taking off and leaving the area. I happened to look past the fighting soldiers and saw an RPG…it must have been brought in by one of the Smurfs! Faster than I had ever run in my life, I ran to that RPG and grabbed it, checking to make sure everything was ready. I dropped to one knee, aligned the chopper and fired.

The rocket roared forth in anger, spewing fire and smoke as if it were a dragon hellbent on revenge. As though guided by the hand of God, the I watched as the rocket made contact with the side of the Blackhawk and it exploded. Wrenching sideways and bellowing hell fire, the chopper spin like an out of control top as it plummeted to earth in the same fashion Icarus surely did as he flew too close to the sun. Luckily, it crashed in an area devoid of anyone else. About the same time, the berserk smurf was finally killed…but so were six of our own.

“Stop where you are!” I heard a voice from one of the towers call out over the fence. Looking over, I saw a figure in the distance, distorted by heat haze and smoke. I numbly dropped the RPG and made my way to the gate, grabbing a dropped rifle on the way. Whoever, or whatever, this was too big to be a Smurf. Funny how I thought that, given we didn’t know the Smurfs could be as tall as we witnessed. However, whoever, or whatever, this was didn’t have a hat on like the others. It seemed to walk slightly hunched over, and it was carrying something…a book?

The warning sirens went off once again and everyone prepared for the worst. I stayed at the guard shack, weapon at the ready. I heard them ordering the figure to halt repeatedly, but it continued toward us until I could finally see it clearly. A man. Just a man. He stood just under six feet tall, had a slouched back, and wore what I could only describe as an old fashioned black monk’s robe. Around his waist, holding everything closed, was a rope and he had red shoes on, not unsimilar to what the Smurfs wore. His face was slightly twisted, almost like a demon with a piked nose, and what hair he had on his balding head was greasy.

He stood in the middle of the road, one hand behind him and the other out in front of him, holding a book. If you have believed anything in this tale, then believe me when I saw the book seemed to move…the book was alive and looked to be in disgust, almost agony, of being in his possession. He grinned wickedly. I could hear his words as his voice echoed out only fifty yards from my position.

“I am so glad you were all able to join me at the appointed time!” he laughed out, waiving the book in front of him, “It is so nice when guests arrive at the proper time and numbers!”

“State your business!” I heard Colonel Finch over the speaker? She was alive? Of course she was…she was too tough to die. I should have known that… “Do not approach any closer!”

“What do you know of my business!? What could you possibly comprehend?! NOTHING!  YOU ARE ALL NOTHING! You have done everything I have wanted and more! The only thing I have left is to close up some loose ends!” the person shouted and suddenly flipped the book to look at him, “Great Book of Spells! I, Gargamel, your master and owner demand of you this day, being the last phase of the full moon, to grant me the spell I seek!”

“What is it you seek, foolish one!” the book stated back.

“I demand a spell to make me the biggest, and greatest wizard of them all! I wish to stand above all others and squish my enemies!” Gargamel shouted with a laugh to the book.

“Another selfish and pointless request! Stomp three times, turn twice, and then your enemies shall seem small as mice!” the book instructed back. Gargamel did just that…and in a flash of white energy surrounding him he began to grow. He did not stop growing until he towered above all the buildings like a video game end boss. His voice boomed out in a deafening tone as he laughed and began to smash everything around him. “Everyone, including the Smurfs, thought they were better than me! Outcast me! TURNED ME AWAY LIKE A FREAK! Now I will make you all pay!” he shouted out in a voice so loud it hurt my ears.

“NOW!” I heard Colonel Finh’s voice once again over the speaker. I can hardly explain what happened next. I saw lightening fly across the darkened, but cloudless sky, straight for Gargamel. At first, he was laughing, but his face twisted to an even more disgusted look and he began screaming in pain. He attempted to block the lightening hitting him constantly in the chest, but his fingers were burned through and fell from his body. That lightening began to eat through his body until he had an large hole in his chest. No blood. The wound had been cauterized by the heat. He toppled backwards and began to shrink back to normal size as he did so, until he landed like a sack of potatoes on the ground. The entire base began to cheer.


Conflict’s End

It was weeks before I learned it was none other than Captain Santos who fired that shot. The weapon was the fourth stage in the strike and had been nicknamed Thor’s Hammer. Someone had learned there was a force driving the Smurfs to start the war, but wasn’t exactly sure who it was, however, they knew they were hiding in London. We were there to drive them out of hiding, and hopefully, put a stop to all of it. The fighting had immediately stopped after Gargamel was killed, and the Smurfs went back into hiding, but not before someone designated Papa Smurf presented conditions of peace and agreed to never cause problems again. The USA, at least, agreed to leave the Smurfs alone and ordered both a no visit and no fly zone where the Smurfs were actually located. No civilian was ever told the specific spot they lived.

Those of us who have fought and lived through this are the ones most affected. Closing my eyes at night brings sweats and I can’t have any thing blue around me. The Blue Man Group was officially exonerated of all charges of being spies for the Smurfs when the truth had come out, but they had to be disbanded because no one trusted them anymore.

This was the worst war since the one fought by a soldier, who’s letters my father found in the wall of his own home. Makes me think my cousin was right about this Chuck E. Cheese place…wonder how he’s doing…


I had promised to post this so many times…it came to me when I was drugged up to have a double wisdom tooth extraction. I also saw a giant purple turkey, but that isn’t as exciting as this. I’ve turned this into a short story, and when I tell it verbally, it’s a bit different of course.

Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts in 2018

It’s Christmas time once again! Snow is falling. Children are trying their best to be good. Parents are doing their best to beat people to the “must have toy” of the year. And once again W.A.T.C.H. has put out their Christmas list for the most dangerous toys of 2018…but they missed the most obvious ones. Why? Because they’re more concerned with what is going to make the most money and being a hater than actually caring about the children. Why won’t anyone else besides me think of the children!?

If you find any of these under your tree, instantly call child services on Santa.


1. Omega Spay and Neuter Kit: For Science!
This toy comes with multiple clamps, scissors and scalpels. Included are full color detailed instructions on how to spay and neuter multiple kinds of animals. Everything anyone could ever want in order to start performing surgery is included thanks to the “bonus tools” supplied. This is made by the company, Omega, who is responsible for the Planned Parenthood toy line, which includes the “Home Abortion Kit” and “Margaret Sanger with baby karate chopping action”.

I mean, seriously? W.A.T.C.H. puts out a buyer beware over a plastic knife and magnetic fruit, but doesn’t even care about this? Sure the toy line might not be all that popular, given that Planned Parenthood is about killing babies before they can be old enough to play with the toys, but the fact this comes with real metal tools is just a little more than concerning. I can’t even imagine what’s going to happen when the little ones run out of neighborhood pets to have “fun” on. Once they realize the tools work on any and all creatures, there’s sure to be a rash of surprise vasectomy and tubal ligation come New Year’s Day! Nice over look there, W.A.T.C.H!


2. Ariel’s Expression Exercise Pole
“When Ariel lost her voice, she had to find a way to get the Prince to kiss her…and she found a way to do so while earning her keep!” reads the back of the package. This is a regulation sized “exercise pole” and comes with techno remixes of Under The Sea, Kiss the Girl, and Poor Unfortunate Souls, along with eight stacks of hundred dollar bills in order to “make it rain up in here”.

I’m all for women expressing themselves be it in the kitchen or in the bedroom, but this is not an exercise pole. Let’s call it what it is, a dangerous metal rod capable of blunt force trauma and serious fall injuries! There is ZERO safety equipment to keep the little ones from falling as their sliding up and down or spinning around this pole. Adults have the developed muscles in order to make this safer, and sexier, but children do not. This whole thing is a law suit waiting to happen. Let’s hear it for another Disney fuck up.


3. Plasma Blaster 2700
According to the box: You’ll be the talk of the town with your authentic plasma blaster! This bad boy produces enough power to drop any future threat thanks to producing a balmy 57,762,237.76 degrees Kelvin plasma charge. The founding fathers didn’t fight to give you the right to own just muskets and for hunting! Rated ages 5 and up. Brought to you by your friends at the The Oneiroi Collective.

I’m all for having cool weapons, but are five year olds really responsible enough to handle something which produces energy around five tons of TNT? While I’m impressed they were able to get the energy to produce this weapon in such a small device, I just don’t feel that melting your target is great for the environment. Not to mention the replacement cartridges are extremely expensive, and are quite heavy. This should be a pass. Instead, think about getting a laser pointer for the kid and tell them to make “Pew Pew!” noises.


4. Bunny Snapper
We’re supposed to believe this is actually a game for the entire family to enjoy while teaching you to be cautions. What I believe is this toy teaches is distrust of rabbits. Nothing good can come of this and the rabbit is not robust enough for very many plays. The value versus dollar amount here is just not high enough to recommend it.

Probably the worst part of this game is how rusty the trap is. While sharp, the jaws on the trap are also incredibly rusty. I can’t help but feel the manufacturer simply went into the woods and collected a bunch of abandoned traps or even went to an antique store to save money instead of making their own. Tetanus is a real threat and this game is going to lose what fun there is the moment anyone catches it.


5. Cat-apult Ultra 7
Let’s start off with the obvious, shall we? This isn’t a catapult…this is an RPG launcher. That alone is a red flag. I mean, if the manufacturer can’t even tell the difference between a catapult and what is essentially an RPG-7, but for cats, then how do they know safety? Spoiler alert: They don’t and can’t.

Almost everything about this stupid toy is wrong! Not only did they name it wrong, but the images shows the cat getting launched from what should be the back of the launcher! I know some concessions had to be made in order to cram a full grown cat into the thing, but this is an oversight that cannot be ignored. The trigger system is clumsy to use, resulting in firing the furry critters when and where you don’t intend to do so.

We test every toy we review, and let me tell you, I lost count how many cats I slammed into the outside testing fence instead of launching them over it because of the awkward design of this product. Also, anything smaller than a full grown cat isn’t very effecting and can result in injuries and damage to those around you, as well as the toy. Large squirrels work if they are smashed down far enough, as well as larger puppies, such as Labradors, but anything smaller, such as kittens, chihuahuas or even young pugs just don’t work right.


Well, there you have the actual most dangerous and dumb Christmas presents of 2018. I don’t understand how every other watch group out there keeps missing these or just flat out ignoring them. I actually care about people and toys which cause harm, so I will continue to bring these to you as needed. Merry Christmas!!!

Little Known Legendary Creatures #3 – Cheese Goblin

Dreaded Cheese Goblin

In this install of Little Known Legendary Creatures we will be taking a look at the dreaded Cheese Goblin. No creature is more loathed among the French, save for the Vin Fantôme. Unlike the Butt Pirate or even the Buffalo Wing Fairy, the Cheese Goblin is still in the hearts and mind of every Frenchman.


Origin
Tales of the Cheese Goblin come from before written French history and even bear striking resemblance to tales found in Sweden and even found in journals of Austrian cheese makers. With 26% of the cheese in the world produced in America, there are even whispers of the Cheese Goblin making its rounds in the many dairies.

One recorded account by a cheese smelling Frenchman in 1645 had this to say in his diary (translated from French to English):

DAMN IT! Those stupid cheese goblins! They have ruined yet another fine dining experience for my children. We were to dine on fine cheese with rich wine, only to have one of those dreaded devils bite the nose off of my youngest son. My daughter…I am sure she is now pregnant. At least those damn wine phantoms have not defiled my wife with an ostrich feather.

In a more recent account, found in the Cheese Crazy In A Lazy Daze! blog, circa 2004, we find the author, CheeseHunk4197, has this to say in regards to a personal experience:

So, I kid you guys not… There I was, eating some damn good cheese curds up in Oregon, when all of a sudden this…I don’t know…cheese goblin jumps out of some emmental cheese and starts running around! This little bastard started biting the nose off of everyone it came in contact with…blood and screaming everywhere! No one believes me and the news won’t cover it! I REALLY wish I had some pictures of this little bastard. It almost…ALMOST…put me off of cheese!

This proves the Cheese Goblin is alive and well even in America, far away from France.


Powers
No one knows how the Cheese Goblins get into the cheese to begin with. Even in the modern era, there are those who propose the idea of anomalous generation, in which the simple act of making cheese is what brings these creatures into existence.

What we do know of the Cheese Goblin’s powers is that it has the ability to immediately jump out of cheese, usually emmental, such as Swiss cheese, and bite the nose off of the victim. The Cheese Goblin has never been known to eat any other body part, not even fingers, but legend does not say why. Take for instance this account in Reginald Scot’s records, titled Demons in the New World:

Cheese Goblin is a low ranking marques and is extremely ferocious. He is known to rest silently in cheese, usually emmental, but not always, until his victim comes near. Like a snake inside a clay pot, Cheese Goblin then leaps from the delicious snack and bites the nose clean off the face.

He appeareth as though Kermit the Frog had sweaty, gooey, Broke Back Mountain butt sex with one of the gremlins from the movie Gremlins and produced a child. His temper is always raging and his teeth are full of razor sharp daggers, much like the terrible CGI abomination from the Steven King made for TV mini-series The Langoliers.

He understandeth both good and bad cheese, while ruling two legions of divils

According to some lore, the Cheese Goblin has the ability to disappear, while others claim it simply moves at an unbelievable speed making it appear to do so. According to Falsum Libro Daemones, the Even Lesser Key of Solomon the King:

The eitheenth hundred and sixth spirit is the Paneer Bhoot (पनीर भूत). He hides inside hardened dairy, which is pleasing to be placed on a cracker. Waiting for the non-careful to place their face close, it will leap from inside and remove the smelling part of the face. His look is that of a large frog with human hands and feet, with teeth full of swords which interlock perfectly in their spacing. His speed is like that of Barry Allen after getting is powers making it appear as though he turns invisible. He is in control of two legions.


Residence
…it lives in cheese. It’s in the name of the creature! There’s no where else… I mean, every single description talks about it. In the Mertvoye kniga iz Eksperta, author unknown, for instance just says this:

It lives in cheese. Duh!

Not every legendary and/or magical creature lives some place amazing.


Roll in Modern Society
With people on health kicks in the United States, it is unlikely we will see a large resurgence of the Cheese Goblin, which is not necessarily a bad thing. However, for those who work in the industry there is always a chance at glimpsing these creatures.

Those wishing to see one of these legendary creatures would do well to hang out near a dairy or live in a place trying to attract cheese aficionados such as Wisconsin. France is also another place for a good chance to see one in action. Besides, you’d be watching some French bastard get their nose bit off, and who can argue with that?


Protective Wards
One can protect themselves from the Cheese Goblin through simple actions, such as cutting cheese into thin slices before consuming it or even with spells from The Grimoire of Protection: Ulinzi Uhawi, Imamu Jirongo, circa 1975:

Dis is coo mon. Dem deh cheese goblins jerks. To protect yourself, you’ll need a few things. Firstly, get a chicken which isn’t deep friend. Second, get a lot of cow blood…and I mean a LOT of it. Then decorate your place with so many skulls and candles people will think it’s two in the afternoon when it’s midnight. Then for twenty minutes drink rum, spitting it in the air every so often, until you pass out. The Cheese Goblin will be exorcised. See it?

Given the option, it would be best to simply cut the cheese…as it were.


Summoning and Spiritual Rankings
No one knows how the Cheese Goblin is summoned as it always seems to be unintentional and no one in their right mind should seek to find one by getting next to a large slice or even a block of cheese. Do so at your own risk!

Rank: Lesser Marquis
Sign: 4° – 6.1.459° Pices (February 19 – March 20)
Time of Day: Sunrise and Sunset
Planet: Titan (moon)
Metal: Administratium
Command: 2 Legions
Tarot Card: Milked Cow

Little Known Legendary Creatures #2 – Butt Pirate

Legendary Butt Pirate

In the last installment of Little Known Legendary Creatures, we investigated the Buffalo Wing Fairy and what made it so special. Today, we are going to take a look at the often criticized, and now turned insult, Butt Pirate.


Origin
Origin stories of the Butt Pirate seem to date back as far as the 1600’s and were originally considered good luck. During that time, personal hygiene was a problem for people in general, but especially sailors who would be out at sea for months at a time without proper privies.

One sailor had this to say about the Butt Pirate in his sailing journal (cleaned for easier reading in current English):

We have been without port nearly three months and the smell of the crew was staggering. Nearly all members were about to start mutiny due to the unsanitary conditions we were forced to live with. Praise the Lord, however, when at dusk our look out spotted a ship near the horizon. At first fearful, we were alerted to the emblem on the flag, which we recognized: Butt Pirate! Quickly heading below deck to feign sleep, the Butt Pirate boarded us, collecting the fecal matter he uses for mysterious reasons, and our posteriors were cleaned.

This is not the first recorded incident of the Butt Pirate, but it does prove to be one of the best to show the creature was welcomed, not feared, nor used as an insult.


Powers
Butt Pirate is known to invade, both through consensual and non consensual contact, the butt of its target. What it does with these poop nuggets has long been up for debate as no one has seen what it does with them.

According to lore, the Butt Pirate has the ability to make his own ship, The Black Eel, appear and disappear at will. In addition to invisibility, records suggest the ship can also move across time and space to reach other destinations almost immediately. Take for instance this account in Reginald Scot’s records, titled Demons in the New World:

Butt Pirate is not a marquis and is often shunned by the higher daemon lords. He is commonly known to sail among the world’s waters, including the Great Lakes in America and even a few times reported in Loch Ness.

Appearing as a regal naval officer with a hat portraying a skull and crossbones, he smells of sweat and feces. All except his head appears to be human and he has a hook for a hand on the right side. Where his face and head should be is what looks like a well fatted butt.

He has the ability to appear and disappear upon his magnificent ship, adorned with beauty, and preceded by the odor of fecal matter. The phantom smell of solid waste is an indication Butt Pirate is near, but there is no need to fear.

Cleaning the posterior waste exits, up to the colon, Butt Pirate was once welcomed by many, but that is quickly changing. What he does with the collection of feces is unknown.

He can only communicate with short bursts which sound like human flatulence.

He is known to hang out with The Poopsmith, categorized here: The Poopsmith: Who he is and what he’s doing now

With the ability to turn invisible and teleport, could he be an alien visitor? Ancient Astronaut Theorists, say yes!


Residence
While many legendary creatures have their own place of residence, Butt Pirate claims his home on the water masses of Earth. Not completely content on being out in the open all the time, however, there is record of it hiding in special areas outside of human sight.

In the book Historia de Mierda by Miranda Veracruz de la Hoya Cardinal, we learn Butt Pirate may have his own pirate get-a-way:

Between the rays of sunlight, past the swells in waters smooth and clear as polished crystal, Butt Pirate will moore his boat for times of rest and reflection. Inside a sea face cave, protected from sight, he will sip his high quality rum, often until throwing up, and relax after a long day of collecting booty from booty. He is a creature of simple pleasures.

Like other creatures of legend, it seems Butt Pirate can exist in an area inaccessible to us humans. The area does not sound like any known paradise, and as such, may even be a creation from Butt Pirate himself.


Roll in Modern Society
Unlike most forgotten or near forgotten legendary creatures, Butt Pirate has continued to this day in popular culture. Sadly, Butt Pirate has turned to a negative connotation and not something welcome as he was in the past.

Urban Dictionary has this listed as a definition for butt pirate as written by Bill B:

A ruddy queer man who likes to ram his schooner into another man’s glory hole; a sailor of anal ports.

See also: ass-rammer, jizz-junkie, cum gulper, butt-muncher, turd-burglar, peter-puffer.

Holy shit, Pete! Don’t be grabbing my arse, ya dirty butt pirate! ARGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Even though the definition of butt pirate remains similar as that of the original Butt Pirate, it has taken on a grand negative context. With the advent and availability of modern plumbing, Butt Pirate seems doomed to be forgotten as a positive, welcome force and forever branded as something vile. Time will tell if the trend will shift back to his original intent.


Summoning and Spiritual Ranking
There seems to be no sure way to summon Butt Pirate. All indication is he shows up at will to collect his bounty, and recently he is being reported at an exceedingly decreasing rate. Hopefully Butt Pirate will not turn to violent collection without having much chance to collect his bounties in the modern world.

Rank: Commoner
Sign: 1° – 6.11.4° Pisces (March 14 – April 14)
Time of Day: Any
Planet: Neptune
Metal: Bombastium
Command: 0 Legions
Tarot Card: None

Little Known Legendary Creatures #1 – Buffalo Wing Fairy

Legend of the Buffalo Wing Fairy

There are more things under Heaven…I could look up how the rest of this goes since I’m already on the Internet, but I’m too lazy to do it. Besides, I’m not here to quote Stephen Hawking, I’m here to talk about some little known legendary creatures.

Almost everyone knows about the Tooth Fairy, Santa Clause, The Boogey Man, and the Chanukah kawala, but how many of you out there know of the others? I’m talking about creatures such as the Cheese Goblin, or even the Buffalo Wing Fairy. How sad it is we have already begun to forget about these amazing creatures.

So, what I’m going to do is tell you about them here! First up, we’re going to learn about the Buffalo Wing Fairy!


Origin
Little is known of the origins for the Buffalo Wing Fairy. It first appeared in literature around 1968 in Reginald Scot’s records, titled Demons in the New World. The book has this to say about the entity:

Buffalo Wing Fairy is a great and mighty marques. He is common among the fraternities in the Eastern seaboard area of the United States. He commeth abroad in the form of a love child between Chuck Norris and Bob Ross with multi-colored wings reminiscent of marshmallow fruit candies. Unlike the hidden fist bearded Chuck Norris and the happy painting Bob Ross, however, the creature produces deliciously fried chicken wings lightly battered and tossed in a fiery sauce which is pleasing to the palette. He understandeth all things good and bad with a fraternaty pledge and member alike, while he ruleth six legions of divils.

Still, there are suggestions he may be much older than that. Reading older texts shows a similar creature mentioned, but producing other items for consumption going back to 200BC. The book Falsum Libro Daemones, the Even Lesser Key of Solomon the King, writes about this creature and has this to say:

The one hundreth seventy first spirit is Bhainsa viṅga parī. He is summoned by placing a container of fermented wheat beneath a head resting while sleeping. In the night, he shall approach. Should you have been truly good and deserving, he shall accept your offering and in return place a plate of crispy delicacies upon your chest for consumption upon your awakening. He appears as being bathed in light, his faced adorned by a mighty beard which may or may not hide something and his head is crowned by a ball of dark brown, maybe red, hair which is both entertaining and happy. Upon his chest is a massive blue B against his off white robe, which only comes down to his mid thighs. He is in control of six legions of demons.

Were the “crispy delicacies” buffalo wings? We can’t say for sure, but it does some what match what we know now of the creature.

Originally the Buffalo Wing Fairy seemed to be only reported in America, but it is now being recorded wherever buffalo wings are being made.


Powers
The Buffalo Wing Fairy has some strange powers. Not only does the Buffalo Wing Fairy have the ability to enter into any structure in order to collect beer as an offering, it can appear in multiple locations at once. No amount of research has explained if there are many Buffalo Wing Fairies or if this is one creature existing in multiple areas at once.

The buffalo wings produced are said to be the greatest in existence. Because no one has been able to resist the urge to eat all of the wings upon waking up, there has been no research in examining what makes them so delicious. Many restaurants have opened in an attempt to produce the amazing flavors, but none have been successful, though it is worth noting the flavors they have come up with are wonderful.

All attempts to contact the Buffalo Wing Fairy have resulted in failure. Since the creature is obviously telepathic by some means, it can detect the traps set up and will refuse to collect the beer as an offering, meaning no buffalo wings. Children are also unable to contact the Buffalo Wing Fairy unless they are of legal drinking age in the area of the world in which they reside.


Residence
Like Santa Clause living in The North Pole, the Buffalo Wing Fairy has its own area of dominion. While little is known about where it resides, we do have this excerpt from Mertvoye kniga iz Eksperta, author unknown:

Flying into the homes to collect beer, but not hard liquor such as vodka, this creature is known to few. According to one account of a conversation, the creature said it comes from a land of bubbling oil and crumbs of many special breads. Dripping from the species of an unknown plant, the secretions are added to the chicken, after it is cooked, for the most amazing, and heavenly, of flavors. All the chicken used is free range, antibiotic free, and no artificial hormones are added, nor are there any extra preservatives. One must be truly good and deserving to taste the succulent treats it offers.

Could the unknown substance placed on the chicken wings from the plants be what the Greeks called ambrosia? It sure seems likely!


Role in Modern Society
With the decrease of many beliefs this day in age, the role of the Buffalo Wing Fairy seems to be one of tragic forgetfulness. Since people now prefer to simply drink all their beers rather than offer them to the creature in exchange for the wings, coupled with the ability to easily get buffalo wings, the Buffalo Wing Fairy could disappear into obscurity.

Still to this day many fraternities actively pursue the Buffalo Wing Fairy in order to bring them the delicious wings, and the trend is once again beginning to catch on with those who are hungry for wings and don’t wish to attend the travesty known as Buffalo Wild Wings. There have even been whispers of some sororities, such as Kappa Kappa Kappa and Ti Sto Diáolo participating in these practices.


Practice vs. Christianity
Christianity has a strong anti-occult practice rule. However, this has not stopped Christians from either ignoring this rule, or making an attempt to bring the secular into their religion, which is against their religion’s rules. Many Christians celebrate Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and even allow their children to believe in the Tooth Fairy and/or Santa Clause, all of which are a pagan ritual at the core, and therefore, a huge sin against their rules.

So, why stop there? Allowing one self to offer beer to a slightly overweight man with wings who happens to wear an outfit so tiny even Peter Pan would blush seems right in line. There are even those out there who claim since this isn’t an actual worship, there is “no harm, no foul”. Believe what you wish.


Summoning and Spiritual Rankings
Summoning of the Buffalo Wing Fairy seems to require a beer which is cold in either a can or, preferably, a long neck container and placed under your pillow. At some time during the night, if you had been truly good and deserving, the Buffalo Wing Fairy will place a plate of buffalo wings on your chest so you can eat them upon waking. If the summoning isn’t true or you do not meet the requirements, the Buffalo Wing Fairy will not come, you will not have hot wings, and your beer will be ruined.

Rank: Marquis
Sign: 10° – 19.59.59° Virgo (September 14 – 22)
Time of Day: After Midnight, but before Dawn
Planet: Uranus
Metal: Bone and Skin (not really a metal, but considered)
Command: 6 Legions
Tarot Card: 2 of Jestershttp://imgur.com/TyGWjtc

The Magical Whistling Vagina

There are few actual magical things in this world: Love of a puppy, a full moon on a still summer night, and the strangling of a baby. Well, I’ve found one more thing: the whistling vagina. While it’s not mine anymore, I had the pleasure of experiencing it for a time in my life and I know I can die a happy man now.

How this all started was simple enough and hardly worth mentioning, but I will. I had just finished a nine mile round trip hike around a local mountain range when I spotted a black haired angel. She was only around five foot four inches, but she had a hard body, tight ass, and a pair of tits which betrayed her small figure. Banging lips, too, which I knew could suck a pair of balls straight out of a hard dick. Turns out, I was right about that, but let’s not focus on this.

We caught eyes as I approached, so I stopped and began some idle chat with her. She told her two annoying friends to go ahead without her, and we made plans to meet up later. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “What about this magical whistling vagina?” I’m getting to that. Every story needs a good setup.

She must have called me fifteen times in two days to tell me how excited she was to meet up. Taking this as a cue, I decided to just invite her straight over to my place and have a date just like any other twenty three year old does. That is to say, put on Netflix, pretend to be interested in the movie on screen for five seconds, and then start making out for a few before banging each other until the sun comes up three days later. If you haven’t figured this is that kind of story yet, you’re dumber than even I figured you are.

The night in question comes around and she shows up in this tiny sun dress which barely covered her panties, which she actually wasn’t wearing, and was the description of “Holy shit, you fine!”. I popped some popcorn and we chatted as it finished up before flipping through Netflix to find something we were going to ignore. I don’t remember what it was, but sure enough, the make-out session started and she was aggressive in a good way.

Realizing this wasn’t going to be enough nor was the couch a good place to start the screwing, we both jumped up and ran to the bed room. All clothes came off and we got into the full swing of it. After about four strokes I realized I heard something strange, so I stopped and looked around. When I didn’t hear it again, I continued, only to realize the sound came back. She asked what was wrong and I told her, “I hear something odd…like…like a whistle that keeps changing as I’m nailing you.” She blushed and told me it was her. Well, not her, but her magical whistling vagina. I didn’t believe her and started trying different variations, which, sure enough, changed the pitch and length of each whistle.

From that moment on I was hooked! I couldn’t get enough of that magical whistling vagina. With her help, I explored all kinds of different musical tastes from Fredrick Francois Chopin to ZZ Top. From Waltz to Dubstep. Sadly, happiness can never truly last forever and she left one day for new adventures. I will always remember, and be grateful, for the time with that magical whistling vagina!