Files of Doctor Lawrence G. Philmore—memory from unknown day of captivity

L Lawliet: Meeting Thirteen

"He ate apples like they were cookies, warm chocolate chip cookies…" At this, L Lawliet's hands darted out to take two more cookies meant purely for decoration. The psychiatrist realized it was of no avail to tell the former heir that today's cookies weren't actually cookies, but plastic. He was happier that way.

"He just hovered there for days on end, doing nothing but eating apples and laughing. It was brilliant. I couldn't have tortured a man better myself. I thought I was evil once, but no, that thing, Mr. Oogie Boogie, is the master and I am but his student. He and his apples for days, weeks, years, it seems like." Three more decorative cookies gone in a flash.

"Can you imagine… twenty-four hours a day, nothing but crunching? Not a sight or a sound but crunching as he chewed on apples and I slowly starved to death. I imagined that I was an apple, being eaten away by the monster. It was the worst experience of my life. Well, no, actually the morning after was when Light Kushiel found me curled into a ball believing I was a beautiful apple. That was the worst moment of my life."

The psychiatrist wrote down schizophrenic next to nut-job and loony, then made a note to buy more real cookies, watching as the treats disappeared into the former heir's bottomless stomach.

Come and trim my Christmas tree

North Pole Files—Christmas 2009

Gift Request List: # 1 - 25


Fondue set

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

1x steel handcuffs, 2x fuzzy pink handcuffs, 1x puppy

Lots of chains

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

A new piano


Pony (not the animal)

The Complete Nietzsche

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

Light Kushiel's hot body in my bed


Sex from Santa

Something fun in exchange for my Christmas cookies

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

Leather pants



To lick Santa's strawberry popsicle toes

Boxed set of The Sexcapades of Samu Imagay

Twilight Saga

The Resurrection of Lazarus

World Peace… And sex with Light Kushiel

With some decorations bought at Tiffany's

The Underground Messenger—12/15/09


[…without eighties music]

Well, the Pumpkin King (who apparently is more lickable than Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Zac Effron, and David Bowie combined into a Rocky Horror-esque orgy… complete with a pool and corsets) decided that the Twenty-Fifth of December was a little too late for him. Yes, our dear Pumpkin King decided to break a tradition that has spanned since the Christians tried to convert the Romans (because that's what Christmas is all about, really.)

Christmas shall no longer take place on the twenty-fifth, but rather on the twentieth of December. Goddamn you, Pumpkin King—you have destroyed all sense of holiday spirit and tradition. How dare you defile our sacred holiday dreams of gaining too much weight and giving spoiled children their new presents? HOW DARE YOU?!

I no longer believe in Santa Claus. I only believe in a fickle narcissist who believes he is God and has the nerve to change holiday dates when they don't fit his busy schedule. Well, screw you, Pumpkin King… (not literally; he's had far too much screwing lately) and I hope you rot in hell where you belong, you dirty paedophile.

Yes, well, that's all I have to say about that. I saw a beggar the other day, proclaiming it was the end of days (once again—he did it last Tuesday as well). He looked very persuasive, as persuasive as any crack addict can be. This is Mello, your reporter, pondering on his mortality. Good evening and goodnight.

(Page 3-D, picture of David Bowie, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Zac Effron, and David Bowie… all in a mass pool orgy with Light Kushiel the Pumpkin King. Strangely, I found myself attracted to it as well. Excuse me while I puke into the waste basket.)

I really do believe in you

Naomi's Autobiography—memory of first Christmas with Light Kushiel

Chapter Four: Regarding the Origin of the Statutory Rape Charges and Subsequent Court Cases

A child sends a letter to the North Pole every year—a female child, to be precise—but in the first year of Light's reign, something new came onto her list: Hawt and ferius sex on the floor. Yes, those were her exact badly spelled words, written in Crayola crayons. And this was just one letter, after all; imagine thousands with the same exact desire. What is Christmas but giving small children (little women) what they desire?

And oh, have these little women gotten what they wanted. They've gotten their greatest fantasy in the flesh, his… strawberry scented flesh…. He'll kill me when he reads this.

Sadly, the first set of parents did not share their children's wants and needs, so when they found the sweat-covered Pumpkin King straddling their chained daughter beneath him, a look of wrath unholy written upon his features (the daughter had a much more enraptured expression… there are various pictures on the internet)… they were rather enraged.

No, they were not too happy. Or at least, the husbands were not, because the wives couldn't help but notice his lean, sculpted chest and didn't have the desire to look away. Of course, the husbands noticed this as well, and were even more furious than they had been before. And this was what lead to the eventual charges of statutory rape, thousands of times over. Light visited many houses, after all… many daughters to see, wives to visit—sons too, in some cases. Oh yes, Light was a very busy man on December the Twentieth.

When he came back shirtless, (he managed to steal some pants from one of the households in Germany) covered in sweat, he looked as if he were ready to die. Apparently, the power of Christmas had consequences neither of us could have ever predicted.

Who would have ever thought Santa Claus would become an idol of BDSM erotica?

Let's see if you believe in me

Files of Doctor Lawrence G. Philmore—memory about the aftermath of Christmas

L Lawliet: Meeting Fourteen

"He tried to give it back." The traumatized young man crouched behind the couch with a plate of cookies balanced across his knees (the psychiatrist had bothered buying real ones for this meeting). "He kidnapped me, gave me to a paedophilic clown who chained me to a wall and grinned like a rapist, stole the job I wanted nothing to do with, and then attempted to convince me that I should do him a favor by growing a beard, gaining three hundred pounds, and having sex with young children. Because everyone knows Santa is all about the sex."

The psychiatrist decided not to tell L about the statutory rape lawsuits. The isolation of a mental ward had many benefits upon the sanity of its occupants; what the true heir didn't know about how many children Santa had debauched certainly wouldn't cause a psychotic regression involving elephants, teacups, and tables.

That and what father wanted to recount his personal experience of finding his daughter beneath the all-too-delicious Pumpkin King—the shirtless, pantsless, boxerless, sockless… although he did have a pair of fuzzy handcuffs….

No, best not to remember the awkward dinner conversation the day after. Or the fact that his daughter looked as if she actually enjoyed the experience… immensely…. And he certainly would not bring it up with any patient, least of all this patient.

"Why didn't you take it back?" For the love of god, why didn't he take it back? He would rather have the anorexic devil himself shimmy down the chimney than… the Pumpkin King. Oh, the world would have been so much better if only L Lawliet had reclaimed the throne.

"Because I never wanted the job. I hate children. I grew up in a bloody orphanage. Children are bloodthirsty little demons who hide in corners of houses like vermin, sneaking sex behind your back and eating your cookies when you're not paying attention."

The psychiatrist duly noted the lack of cookies on the plate, no doubt devoured when he hadn't been paying attention.

"Children are a disease, a disease that should be eradicated from humanity. This selfishness—Santa Claus is merely a symptom. He is a limb upon the monstrous Christmas tree of human hierarchy, consumerism, feminism, reality television, Tom Cruise, telemarketers, terrible tasting fish that's supposed to be healthy for you but really isn't because the government LIES! They are all limbs on the damn tree—no, we must light the tree on fire! LIGHT IT ON FIRE AND PLACE IT UPON A HILL ABOVE JERUSELUM FOR ALL TO SEE!"

The heir stood, slamming his plate against his knee; it shattered. It wasn't a very expensive plate….

"And the children, they will be the first to burn! Hellfire will consume them all, and they shall repent, but be denied. The damned will rot in Hell with children, murderous dangerous little demons who infest every facet of our rotting society! WE MUST DESTROY THE CHILDREN! ONLY THEN SHALL HUMANITY PREVAIL! Come with me—together you and I shall wipe their charred remains from the face of the planet. Like Godzilla attacking Tokyo, we shall be a giant invincible lizard! THAT NOT EVEN THE MILITARY CAN STOP! Because we are more powerful than the military, we lizard-like beings! Now come with me! Come with me!"

"I'm afraid we're not quite as close as you think we are." The psychiatrist wondered idly if L had been reading the Sexcapades of Samu Imagay. It could have explained the psychotic break, and the metaphors certainly sounded similar. Although Godzilla wasn't strawberry-flavored. Or was he?

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring

Court Transcripts—January 2009

Trial of Light Kushiel: Verdict, Not Guilty

Light Kushiel: Your honor, I wish to say, in my defense, that these little whores were more than willing. Most of them had their own pair of handcuffs at the ready, as well as various date rape drugs in the milk and cookies. I have never been so violated in one night as I was the night of December the 20th. I have blisters on my—

Jury Member 1: Eep!

Light Kushiel: Excuse me, pervert, I was going to say I had blisters on my spleen. You humans are ridiculous. This is exactly what I am talking about—see how he immediately assumed I was talking about—

Jury Member 2: Oh my God, there are children present!

Light Kushiel: I was going to say 'strawberries,' and most of the children in this room have raped me, so I have no qualms about polluting their venomous, putrid little minds with words like—

Jury Member 3: What the hell is wrong with you?

Light Kushiel: Pulchritudinous?

Jury Member 2: I never did remember to look that word up….

Attorny: Are you saying, then, Mr. Kushiel, that all 1003 of the children present have raped you in the course of a single night—which I believe is not even physically possible?

Light Kushiel: You know, there's a funny thing about Santa Claus. He can be everywhere at once, and I do mean everywhere at once. So it is entirely plausible that I could be raped by all of these children at the same time.

Attorny: But you do claim that these children raped you, the Pumpkin King, illegitimate child of the angel of Punishment?

Light Kushiel: Of course. What else have I been talking about for the past three and a half hours of Hell in a courtroom setting?

Jury Member 1: Pulchritudinous-ness?

Light Kushiel: Do you even know what that means?

Jury Member 1: … I never looked it up either….

Light Kushiel: Goddammit, someone find me a dictionary. You humans are pathetic. Really, it's your language, after all!

Jury Member 3: I'm proud to say I have never read the Sexcapades of Samu, especially not chapter 36, where Samu discovers that she is pregnant with Light Kushiel's love child, whose name is a combination of Sachiko and Kushiel—Sashimi∂! And who turns out to be a lovely child who is very intelligent, more intelligent than most normal adults, and grows at a rate that seems impossible so that they can have incestuous BDSM threesomes against his wall and in his pool at the same time.

Judge: Well, I believe we have a clear idea of the realities of this case.

Naomi Misora: More realities than any sane half-elf would ever wish to know. I agree with my client—you humans are disgusting.

Light Kushiel: This is why you aren't in my harem; you think too much like me, and sexual solipsism is a line I won't cross… at least, not for two hundred years.

Naomi Misora: I'm not sure whether that was a compliment or a thinly veiled insult.

Light Kushiel: Most definitely an insult.

Naomi Misora: You just insulted yourself, then.

Light Kushiel: Dammit, then we're going to have to have sex after all. When do you want to do it?

Naomi Misora: Why are we having sex?

Light Kushiel: You want to do it right now on the floor like a pair of animals? I don't have any chains on me, but I'm sure some jury member will be happy to oblige.

Naomi Misora: … I'm leaving….

Light Kushiel: But the fun has only just begun. Come on, darling, I can party all night long.

I don't mean a phone

The Underground Messenger—01/09/09


[…truth is subjective]

Only a vague summary of the court records were released to the public, due to the fact that half of them were lost in the disaster only known only as "The Greatest Orgy Ever Known to Man." Needless to say, this act happened after Light Kushiel foolishly stated that he could 'party all night long,' because that's when all hell broke loose.

Groping, caressing, fondling, molesting, raping, grinding, sweet monkey loving on a table…. They did it all…. WHY THE HELL WASN'T I THERE?! This mass orgy has gone down in history as the single most splendiforous moment in human history, and I wasn't there. What the hell. Damn you, Pumpkin King. I could have brought my stripper outfit! Because everyone knows I can look like a straight up ho when I want to. The leather's as tight as he wants it…. Damn you, Pumpkin King, why do I want you now?

It's all the editor's fault. I found the picture section, but this time it was an actual picture instead of a drawing! DAMN YOU, EDITOR! This was the last thing I needed—I just put the leather and the rosary back in the closet!

Yes, well, the orgy caused a riot of people to attempt breaking into the courtroom, because everyone wanted a piece of Light Kushiel's strawberry-scented pulchritude. I can taste his ass now…. Delicious….

Only a small portion of the jury managed to avoid the rapidly-stripping mass of young women/angry fathers and husbands, as well as the center where the glory of the Pumpkin King was contained, where they ripped off his clothing in a matter of seconds to display his strawberry-scented skin. The skin I didn't get to lick.

Well, this small group of Jury members managed to wait out the violence and survived the orgy. (The rest apparently died of pleasure, except for Naomi Misora, who still managed to be fully clothed in a turtle-neck sweater after the ordeal was done.) And that is how we have heard this amazing story. Who said glorious sex didn't kill?

From what my sources at the North Pole have told me, the immortal Light Kushiel, having successfully fulfilled the Christmas desires of the world, is stuck in the position of Santa Claus until death. So that means… this will all happen again… everything… all over again next year… and the year after… and the year after… for all of your lifetime… and all of your children's lifetimes… and your grandchildren's lifetimes… and their cousins' lifetimes… and your cat's lifetime….

Happy New Years, world. May God have mercy on your sex-deprived souls.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Scourge's Note: Tada. Just in time. Do let us know what you think. Hope your ride was as entertaining as ours.