Meeting St. Nwrrraaarghck

I vowed to find the missing Santa Claus—& started my search locally. Few mortals know, but animals have their own Santa Claus! & ‘tis a polar bear, named St. Nwrrraaarghck. Should ye ever chance to meet Sant’Arcturus, know this: resolute cheer is a REQUIREMENT. Enthusiasms, he rewards; smiles, he tolerates; frowns, he punishes. & ‘tis wise to bring a treat—particularly, a trout. I listened to his many complaints about mortalkind’s savage destruction of the Arctic, & could only apologize (& proffer fish). He had no information on the Claus, but in the bones of a prior visitor, I may have found a clue…

Into the Spirit

Last night, in a fresh corner of Hell, we found SO MUCH FUN. With the Most-Engaged Princess’ bottomless bellini of paramours, & Grimelda Stonehandle’s litany of Christmas Feats (NOT crimes), & the unrelated Yeehaw Man Garbrilo Clicks-Clacks, & Cynthia’s porter-fueled monologue—verily, I know no better way to drum up YULETIDE SPIRIT! If ye missed out, FEAR NOT—the replay awaits ye! Go, thither, & enjoy!

Thank ye to the boisterous bunch in our “live-chat” last night, to the brave InstaGoblins who sacrificed to power our ending MAXI-HOEDOWN, & of course, to the growing number of generous mortals who can & do support our works with “Bits,” & “subs,” & upgrades here in the Scriptorium.

I shall write ye Monday with the next step in my Yuletide Adventure, “Season Without a Santa!” ‘Til then—be safe, be well, & think twice before accepting any remote requests for engagement. Ye never know when he may be a badger.

Cheers,
Amoenus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Fish-Bearer