Christmas Story

[Johnimus Prime]

It's a bit rushed - I'm at work winding down but still with stuff to do.

Johnimus Prime’s Christmas Ghost Story

Fester was alone.

He wasn’t a jolly old soul, and didn’t relish the festive season. Sure, there was more opportunity for the craic, but these days he spent much of his time in torment; his heart frozen cold from dealing with the endless stupidity of that necessary evil called ‘customers’.

It was Christmas Eve on the Forums and all was quiet. “Hmmmm. Strange.”, thought Fester. It was the holiday season, but surely not that many regs would be away from their computers, merry making, smoking of the spiced weed and drinking of the ale, (Stella of course)?

“Bah humbug to them.” Thought Fester. “This is no good. I must have players on the server!”

Fester donned his favourite smoking jacket and novelty Guinness slippers, and then, logging on with the Admin Hammer, he changed the map rotation on the servers to play endless loops of ctf_avanti.

Now. Ctf_avanti may seem like a Christmas Gift beyond compare to some, more precious even than the gifts presented by the Three Wise Pill Heads 2000 years ago, (give or take a few years – I haven’t taken any come downs into account). But there are those for whom ctf_avanti is a dark place. A mournful map of unwinnable evil. “They will log on, they will fail to cap, and then I will devour their souls!” exclaimed Fester. “Then they shall know my pain, and all will suffer with me!”

Fester hadn’t always been like this. He had used to be a jolly man, dressed in a sort of white and green jumpsuit. He never managed to grow the white hair and bear in the way he wanted to, but his never ending supply of idiotic customers ensured that he was able to afford a really good wig. Donning this outfit, together with some heavy duty Dr. Martins, Fester would endlessly supply the server with new maps. He would drizzle golden forum posts everywhere, and always sing loudly on the backyard karaoke. But not any more.

Before he started playing this Christmas eve, Fester nipped out to the local off license and got himself some Stella. Upon his return to his gaff he noticed something strange. There was something very odd about his door, and in particular the doorbell. It had changed from the bog standard push button bell into a kind of weird knocker in the shape of a face. It was drawn and thin, and beneath the two eyes were enormous shadows, making it look like a face that hadn’t slept properly for about two months. Beneath the nose was a mouth, and the mouth held a long bar in the shape of a gigantic crack pipe. Fester thought he’d had a couple too many whiskies earlier and gave it no attention – but then the mouth moved and blew smoke in his face. Fester coughed in surprise and alarm, but when he looked back, the knocker had changed back to it’s original doorbell configuration. Shaking his head and thinking that he had better pour the rest of that whiskey down the sink, Fester went back into his house and closed the door behind him.

Back at the computer desk, Fester settled in and cracked open a can of Stella. It was as he was logging into Steam that he heard the noise.

It started with an intermittent hissing sound downstairs. Fester froze for a second, and then grabbed the largest thing he could find to hand – a spare 500w PSU. The noise grew louder, and now sounded like something being dragged along the floor. Fester still couldn’t move. There had never been any intruders in the house before, and he hadn’t heard anybody break in. He clutched the PSU tightly, making sure that the cables were clipped in properly in case he had to swing it at whoever was coming up the stairs. The noise arrived outside his computer room door. It was definitely the sound of something heavy being dragged – maybe even a few things. And there was a strange coughing and spluttering. Fester watched in horror as an apparition came THROUGH the door. It was tall and thin, and a ghostly grey colour in appearance. It trailed a blurry image behind it – like the effect that the Scout has when using the bonk juice. Around it was wrapped what looked like miles and miles of cabling – Ethernet, power cables, and kettle leads. Attached to these cables, and being dragged along behind it, were servers – seven or eight at least.

Slowly, recognition crept over Festers face. He was looking at the ghost of his friend and colleague Jased10s who had mysteriously disappeared in a cloud of blue vaporiser smoke during the last trip to Amsterdam!

“Alright Fes?”, said the apparition of Jased10s.
“Alright?!? Alright?!? Where the fuck have you been man? What happened in Amsterdam?”
“I dunno man. I had a massive toke on the bag and then the room started spinning and filled with this smoke. When it cleared I ended up with all this wiring and server shit attached to me. Then some Bbloke said I had to come and visit you at Christmas and tell you to stop putting shit maps in the server rotation or Festers Place is gonna go down the shitter. He said that to make the point your gonna get visits from three other ghosts tonight. One at 11, one at 12 and one at 1am. He said you’ll need a bit of a break in between to crack open another can and skin up. Now I’ve got to get back and reset the server. There’s some serious lag issues and I reckon the router’s fooked!”.
With that, the ghostly apparition of Jased10s melted through the floor and disappeared.

Fester sat back in shock. “What the fuck have I done to deserve this?”, he thought.“ And skinned up a big spliff. It was 10.30pm.

10:59pm. “It’s due.” He thought to himself. He was still clutching the PSU – not that it would have been any good at damaging an immortal entity – but he felt he could at least be threatening.

The time on the desktop changed. 11pm.

And nothing.

11.01. “Maybe I’ve got away with this?” Fester mused. But then, through the door came the first of the three spirits. It was tall, with curly hair and was wearing a red stained shirt. Attached to one leg was a kettle, but minus the lid. In one hand it carried a trumpet – shiny and unused like the day it was purchased. In the other, a bottle of a strange looking liquid that Fester though looked almost exactly not like port. “Buckfast” he said. The apparition looked at him.
“I am the avatar of server past,” it said, “and Bosco is my name – I think. I have come to make thee see the error of thy ways!”.
“What errors?” Said Fester.
“Look man. We’re sick of these shite maps on the server. We need to get some decent ones to stop all the fecking kids whinging all the time. I’m not saying brand new maps necessarily, but maybe one of the ones from the good old days. Omaha beach maybe, or one of the orange cross maps.”
“No can do man,” Fester responded. “There is still a massive problem with fps lagging when 32 get on Omaha, and the orange cross ones look shite ‘cos they aren’t finished.”
“Ah, but there is the newer version of Omaha,” said the Bosco poltergeist. “’Tis a fine looking map with the new tunnel and cap point at the top. Loads of places for that bastard Ruario to get schtabby schtabby, and corners for Advent to bring his minigun round to bare. C’mon man, you know it makes sense”.
“Here, if it makes you shut the fuck up and get that filthy shite your drinking away from me I’ll see what I can do,” said Fester – beginning to get irritated, (map change arguments are always a pain in the ass when you haven’t had enough of a smoke). “So take your Buckfast, your lidless kettle and your trumpet and fuck off.”
“I don’t play the fucking trumpet!” exclaimed Bosco. “Can’t you see it’s a violin???”
“Funniest looking violin I ever saw man, but whatever you say.”
“Fuck off man. I’m going, whilst I can still resist the urge to stick this violin up your arse!”

And with that, the Bosco ghost turned, tripped over the kettle lead and fell over – and vanished in a splash of Buckfast.

Fester checked the clock. 11:40. 20 minutes to get another build on the go and smoke it before the next apparition.
“What the fuck is going to be next?” he thought to himself. “If the last one was server past, the next one must be server present. This sounds like some shitty story I read when I was a kid – or was it a Bill Murray film? Ahh bullocks to it – I don’t give a shit. Just get it over and done with so I can get on with fecking achievements farming”.

12 midnight. Right on cue, the window flew open and in sailed the Ghost of server present.
“Hey you fucker”. It said.
Fester looked at it suspiciously. It had a peculiar accent he thought. It certainly wasn’t from the Green Isle, but it definitely wasn’t from dahn sahf either. It might even be from somewhere else on the continent. It was tall, ugly, with short hair, and had a very dopey look on it’s face.
“Now listen. LISTEN. I just got to say one thing. SHUT UP man, just let me say this. Let me ask you a question. LISTEN. Do you like lemon jelly? I’m sooo fucked. I smoked so much shit I.. SHUT UP man. LISTEN to me.”
Fester went slighty cross eyed. The verbal onslaught had affected him badly.
“Gimme some of that shit your smoking man, I think I need it more than you”.
“Ok. Listen. I just want to say LISTEN. Ok we need to update the map rotation right, but we don’t necessarily need no new ones ok? Let me ask you a question. Are any of the current maps good enough to stay? ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?”
“Yeah I suppose. Warpath always goes down well – loads of people join when that goes on. Most people seem to like Turbine, and Mach4 is kick ass.”
“See I said LISTEN to me man – that’s what I’ve been telling you so SHUT UP”.
“Ok Ok no need to go on man. FFS I’m gonna have to mute you otherwise.”

Fester turned away to grab another joint, but when he turned round the Aonn Ghost of server present had gone.

“This is all going much better than I expected”, though Fester idly to himself. The next one should be a piece of piss. Mind you, I’ve had a good few joints and lots of Stella. I’m a bit fucked.”

And so, the clock ticked by until it hit 1am.

It was deathly silent. There was an air of malice hanging in the room, and Fester felt like he was being watched. From a dark corner of the room two he saw a figure rise. It was bound in a white robed dressing gown type thing, with Octagon designs all over it. In the centre of the octagons was a design, and these changed rapidly and made Fester dizzy.


The figure raised a finger in an American accent, and pointed at Fester’s computer screen.
“You want me to watch?”, inquired Fester, still a little confused by the strange pictures that danced in the octagons on the ghosts robes.
The figure nodded, and Fester turned to look at the bright screen. What he saw terrified him. It was truly evil. A sight which would curdle the blood of any normal TF2 individual. It was Fester’s Place, but not as we know it (Jim). Played in high speed, Fester could see that there was something not right with the map rotation. It took a while to register, but as he realised what was happening his face contorted into one of pain and anguish.
“NO! The server is empty. And those maps - they are all… STANDARD!”.

Fester swayed. There was a large thud.

When Fester regained consciousness he figure was still in the room, sat silent and still on Festers computer chair.
“I don’t understand what this means. What the feck am I supposed to do? Can I stop this happening?”
The figure slowly raised itself up, and then nodded. It pointed at the computer screen again.

Fester breathed a sigh of relief. He could see the regs, and most importantly of all, he could see custom maps. But these were all current rotation maps. What could be next?

He felt himself slowly fall back into unconsciousness, and into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, it was Christmas day. He felt refreshed and revived, like a weight had been lifted. Mind you – the beer hat capable of holding two cans of Stella at once that he had been wearing had clearly fallen off when he was asleep so that would explain that.

Fester went through the normal routine. Go to the bathroom for an uberpiss and dump, go downstairs, go to put the kettle on – and then get a beer from the fridge instead. Grind some more green to prepare for the day, and then head back upstairs and skin up. When he was back at his computer desk, armed with everything he needed, Fester logged on to the forums.

Lo and behold, a new map rotation poll was in place. Best of all, there was to be a mix of standard, old custom, current favourites – and best of all – new custom maps.

“This is what community is about”, he thought. “It’s about everyone getting wrecked and bringing ideas together. Now we can all have a vote for a new rotation and sop the little feckers whinging – especially that Jonni The Juciest who thinks he is the original John on the server – jumped up twat.”

Fester was a changed man after that. He had rediscovered his love for the server, and oversaw many new changes for the better.

He was never visited by any ghosts again, but the normal (yeah ‘normal’ XD) Jased10s, Bosco, Aonn and Dharma were all there, together with the usual bunch of players. None of them knew anything about any strange visitations and all thought he had gone a bit mad.

But Fester never lost the feeling that, whilst he had been unconscious, some git had shoved a trumpet up his arse.


THE END

[Joples]

tl;dr looks interesting though

[Fester]

Johnimus man.. i dont know what to say.. hahaha.. thats just a piece of class! can we release it to hard back for book shops?!

And with Johnimus's fecking deadly christmass story..

Guys and girls have a fantastic Christmas!

may your Santa socks be stuffed with much weed and beer when you wake Christmas mornin!! may your bong water be fresh, your vaporiser bag be clean, and your fridge stocked with the finest of cheap beers!

[Advent]

Bravo! That was really well put together man, fair play to you.

And the next ungrateful shit to post tl;dr is getting a festive ban.

Merry christmas!

[Johnimus Prime]

Cheers Fes, Advent. Probbably a few too many in jokes in there, and I got distracted a bit at the end and lost my train of thought. If I can be arsed I'll rework it and fill it out a bit. Be nice to get a few more name drops in there.

Next story I reckon I'll see if any of the illustrious artists here are up for some sort of comic strip video....

[LazyEagle]

Bravo Johnimus!

Wonderful Christmas story!

[Sharp Dagger]

wtf is a tl;dr ?

Too long, didnt read.
awesomesaucem story johnimus

[DHARMA AGENT]

That was awesome Johnimus. I can't believe you did that in your spare time at work. Merry Christmas! I am the future!

[dintbo(aka bosco)]

Haha excellent read johinimus. Well done to you sir

[AngryWolf]

Very well done Johnimus, I enjoyed reading it.