It's that time of year again. The heavens part, a freshness overcomes the land. Joy and laughter spread across the world in the form of love and pigs-in-blankets. Indeed, it would be Christmas time again. Of course, not everyone would be blessed this year. Sadly, many families and children around the world cannot feel the joy of this time of year. Nevertheless, they try to make the most of it, with what little they have.
Except, of course, if your name so happens to be Aldia.
"Bah, Christmas." The pile of wood grumbled. "What a waste of time. Why, I should just teleport again and mumble to some undead about a bunch of nonsense about prophecy..."
Aldia was a salty old log. His brother neglected him ever since he was young. After all, how could one express love and gratitude to a botanical object with a receding hairline?
Aldia gave a puff of boredom, like a child waiting for his presents. A shuffling of boots broke the silence.
"Sir!"
"Ah, hello Rodriguez!" Aldia said cheerfully. "My best friend, yes."
"It's Robert, sir..."
"How can I assist, Rashid?"
"It's Rob... Uh, I have some news. King Vendrick is planning to be Ass Santa again. He's going to go around Drangleic again, insulting and belittling people."
A pause. "But...But that's MY job!" Aldia boomed, sliding across the floor. "Augh, that pillock was always jealous of my superior wit and amazing creativity when it came to insults."
"So, shouldn't you do something about, sir?"
"Excellent idea!" Aldia laughed. "I will give Drangleic...Nay, the whole world a humbug, they'll never forget! Richard, get my humbug hat!"
Robert did as his master commanded, grabbing the black Santa hat of the shelf, placing it on Aldia's head, saluting him. "Godspeed, sir."
"God? Where I'm going, there is no God." Aldia sneered. "Doh-ho-ho-ho!"
Anor Londo was alive with festivity. The town was decorated with lights and tinsle, shitty Santas that blurted out random,electronic ho-ho-hos triggering feminists wherever they go. An occasional "Merry Christmas!" rang out their sound box, as a solemn reminder that Christmas was nothing more then a consumerist holiday that fed the fat man.
Nah, fuck that, Christmas is great.
"What do you think? Tacky enough?" Artorias asked.
"Needs more overweight sex offenders as Santa." Ciaran panned.
"I think Smough was doing a good job until the munchies kicked in."
"Hard to believe we've witnessed this for five years now." Ciaran mused, hugging onto Artorias arm.
"I know. Hard to believe idiots write about us, despite our non-existent interactions."
"It's the implications, Art. Gawd." Ciaran laughed while sharing a kiss, then going back to her Starbucks.
"You could not be more white trash, could you?"
"Nope." Ciaran smiled while looking at her Uggs.
"Yes, they are positively UGG-LY." Aldia guffawed, spitting a letter into Artorias face. "But seriously, get some Crocs, now THAT is style." Aldia gave a cough as he melted back into the floor.
"The hell was that?" Ciaran asked, wiping her boots. "Crocs? Christ, what next, mountain dew and khaki shorts?"
Artorias wasn't listening, his focus was all on that letter, slobber dripping off the edges.
Dear Bargain-Bin Guts,
You are the most overrated piece of trash to ever grace this series.
Wow, you got butt-fucked by Manus, have a purple heart.
Wow, you are so inspirational and tragic, such a deep character.
Wow, fuck, you even got a DLC named in your honour. You know what else did?
HORSE ARMOUR.
And no, you are not cool, so stop acting like a fucking edge lord in every god damn story
you are in, you cock-gobbling queef burger.
Lord Aldia.
P.S. Your Waifu is shit-tier.
Pontiff Sulyvahn sat on his stool, contemplating whether to touch Tiny Tim inappropriately again should he come and visit him again.
"Hwah hwah hwah." Pontiff...laughed? "Can a monkey fight a man?" He bellowed, apparently speaking to someone.
He dashed across the room, arms sprayed, screeching in autistic. "WRRRRRYYYYYY!"
"Oh for fuck's sake." Pontiffs clone sighed "Cut that shit out."
"You think you can best MEEEEE?" Pontiff shouted. "MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUD-"
"Shut up!"
"MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA-"
"SHUT UP!"
"MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU NOB JOCKEY!"
"MUDAAAAA!" Pontiff finished, punching his stool into slighting small bits of stool.
"Oi, some dude came by, asked me to pass this to you." The clone sighed, throwing a letter towards the mentally inept priest.
"Hahaha! ZA WARU-"
"Just fucking read it."
Pontiff Sulyvahn,
My name is Aldia, and I'm a professional in the world of science and medicine.
I have researching into the cure for cancer, a very deadly illness that I'm sure you are aware of.
For many years, it has evaded us, but I believe I have found to cure for it.
During my research, I found a very hard to see clue within a cancer cell that has finally given us the answer. Take a look.
Below, a small image was pinned to the letter. A cancer cell, with a badly Photoshopped face overlaying the image.
That's right, my friend. It would appear I have found to leading cause of cancer.
You'll find a noose enclosed.
I look forward to your response.
Lord Aldia.
"Damn, dude. He rinsed you." Pontiffs clone laughed.
"STEAMROLLER!"
"I hate my life."
All was well at first. Aldia was achieving his goal very well. He was particularity proud when insulting Ludwig. Apparently the age old joke of "why the long face" amused him more then anything.
Up next was a particularly hated foe. The Abyss Watchers drooled and fumbled about like babies, spouting random sentences that made little to no sense.
"Rawr Ecks-Dee!" Screamed one of them, "Maybe this letter is from Senpai-kun?"
Dear Abyss Watchers,
Jesus Rollerblading Christ, I though Artorias was bad but Jeeeeesus.
It's no secret that you all have body pillows of the same dude, by come on now, how pathetic can you get. At least get different makes, god knows what combination all your jizz would make.
I bet you're all closet furries, beating off over the dying wolf on top of the tower, you sick fucks. Imma get PETA on your ass.
You're like the personification of the Dark Souls Community. Shameful.
Lord Aldia.
P.S. Your Waifu is a cuck.
Dear Nameless King.
Ah ha. AH HA HA HA HA HA HA.
Sorry, just remembered how much of a little bitch you are.
"Wahh, daddy won't let me finger dragons. Whatever will I do?"
Come on bro. Is the pay really that good? To be a tester for Bad Dragon? You're like a failed University student who's only way to pay off a debt is through his ass.
Lord Aldia.
P.S. Hire a new camera guy, for the love of me.
"Well I never!" The King screamed. "How dare he just assume what I'm into! Close minded swine..."
"Ready for round two, darlin'?"
"Begone, scaly wench. I must do something first..." He murmured while picking up a box that had "XXX Large" written on the side.
Dear Dancer of the Boreal Valley.
Are you real? Are you? No way a fine ass like that can exist.
You give my wood life once again, my tired old bone rises with new life.
A body so fiiiiine you can nut all over it and it still be perfect.
But why? WHYYYYY must you give yourself to that fucking weeb Pontiff? Screaming everywhere, thinking his JoJokes are funny?
Fuck you, you slaaaaag.
I hope you drown in all the nut, you apathetic whore.
I hope you think about what you did to me and my heart!
Lord Aldia.
P.S. I love you.
Aldia laughed. The grinch had come forth from his very soul. Not even the hard heart of Lautrec could protect him from the hurls of insults, crying in the arms of Anastasia. The Iron Golem was shaken to his core, so distraught he saw no other option then to just simply throw himself of the cliff, willingly.
Aldia's laugh echoed through out the sky. Indeed, a great demon of humbugs and bad attitude had awoken, and revelled in it's rampage.
One last letter was spat out. Lord Gwyn opened it very slowly, preparing himself for the outrage of bad language and childish humour.
Dear Gwyn-boy.
I hate you.
No, you don't understand. I REALLY hate you. It's unhealthy how much hate I have for you.
You ruined everything for everyone.
Even more then that stupid fucking weeb Pontiff. And I REALLY hate that guy too.
I hate you more then Ventdick, my brother. AND HE CAN'T EVEN AFFORD NEW CLOTHES.
God, just thinking about you and your stupid fucking beard upset me.
It baffles me that your fucking sperm has created a trio of retards, two of which fuck dragons, and
the third is so gender-confused not even Tumblr and it's fifty so genders can help him.
Lord knows what you put your dick in to create that soap opera grade family.
Nah, nah, nah. I'm done writing this.
Go fuck a truck of ducks.
Lord Aldia.
Gwyn took a small sign, and tossed the letter into the fire. "K, m8."
"Well, Roy. Christmas went off without any issues. I've said my piece, and looking forward to the new year."
"Sir, we've lost all but one of the Acolytes, the Guardian Dragon is currently being used as a weapon against us, and for the last time, my name is fucking Robert!"
"Ryder, I think a little celebration is in order. Get the eggnog."
The gates of the keep flew of the hinges. Gwyn led the makeshift army, screaming in ten year old speak, Pontiff throwing steamrollers into the building by the batch.
"Ah ha! My friends, it would seem you have come to kill me, m'yes." Aldia quipped, sipping on his nog. "Unfortunate, considering I have an absurd amount of health, nya nya nya."
"Rite, I tell u wot, u fat little cunt." Gwyn began.
"Oh please, spare me! I surrender!" Aldia taunted, laughing. "Whatever will you do?"
The army parted like the Red Sea. Caboose stood, shaking with rage. "Where're my fucking drops, boyo?"
"What drops? OHOHOHO." Aldia laughed. "You don't scare me, you saturday morning cartoon reject. Away with you. Your meagre strength is nothing. Your silly, blind devotion to some Japanese man in a business suit baffles me. Just look at me. I am the apex of the Souls series. I'm a sixty dollar boss, boy, you cannot defeat me."
Caboose said nothing, instead simply slowly pushing the great hunk of wood over.
"What do you think you're doing?" Aldia sneered, panic rising in his voice. "Stop. Stop that!" Aldia fell like a chess piece, whimpering as his secret was revealed to all. "No, wait, really, wait!"
"You see this, mates!?" Caboose screeched, point at the flat bottom of Aldia. It simply read. 'Property of B-Team.' "This is why his opinion is invalid. He's not even real!"
"Wait please, just list-"
"Shut your bitch ass mouth, I'm on my speed run here!" Caboose screamed. "WRRRRYYYYYY-"
"And that's how I ended up here." Aldia finished, looking at the feet the hospital bed. Vendrick shook his head, still recovering from his previous beatdown.
"I guess we really are brothers." he sighed.
"Yes. Unfortunately so. I got you a gift, by the way."
"Yeah, I'm wearing it right now." Vendrick sighed, pulling his sheets back. "Onesies really are comfy."
"Hmm."
"So, Merry Soulsmas?"
"...Merry Soulsmas."
An awkward silence filled the room. Vendrick tapped the mattress of his sheets, Aldia made fish noises with his mouth.
"Wanna play Mario Kart?" Vendrick spoke up.
"Hell yeah."