No, we didn’t have Santa Claus when I was growing up. We didn’t have Christmas. Heck, we didn’t even have your primitive paleo-brain concept of religion.
We did have the concept of gift-giving, and something we called Consumer Day, when we tried to boost our Neecknabian economy and give gifts. And we did have a folk tradition similar to your jolly Saint Nick. We called him Troglor the Consumer, and if you didn’t buy at least a thousand pargnags (that’s roughly $700 US in the current exchange rate) in gifts, then you were put on the “naughty” list.
Now, in your ridiculously soft human custom, getting on the “naughty” list means no more than receiving a lump of coal in your stocking, or at worst, having some dude dressed up as the devil coming to your house to scare you.
Troglor was not so innocuous. If you got on the “naughty” list, you didn’t find yourself invited to sexy parties, oh no, you found yourself in receipt of a shitload of hurt. Most of the time you would find yourself auctioned off — organ by organ — to the highest bidder at the yearly “Boxing Off” Day sale. Sometimes, if you were really bad, he’d just put a Neecknabian Rectal Weasel in your bed before Consumer Morning.
Nasty.
I always gave at least 1200 pargnags worth of gifts, just to be on the safe side.
Hey, Troglor the Consumer sounds like a real cultural icon. Better than Santa, at least he’s not hiding behind a false veil of family love.
Man, that’s one tough planet…
Hey, you don’t conquer galaxies on pixie dust.
Neecknabian Rectal Weasels – but I thought you said no sexy parties?