//-------------------------------------------------------// How the HaS Old Guard Saved Santa and Ruined ISIS' Ebolamas Plot to Steal Crimea and Shoot Up Minorities - brought to you by: Mountain Dew, Doritos, Fars News Network, UNICEF, the Church of Mormon, and the Humans Are Superior Group -by Ben Garrison- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// On the first day of HASmas... //-------------------------------------------------------// On the first day of HASmas... T’was the night before Jesusmas eve, and all through the HAS Detroit Clubhouse not a creature was stirring, except Classy who was drawing up battle plans for his genocidal campaign against the Chinese. Toy tanks were placed around a map of Beijing with care, with hopes that mass graves soon would be there. When suddenly from the back room there arose a clatter… fuck following the poem. “Bitch I’m not a weab-fag, I actually know how to use this thing!” Classy said as he grabbed the katana he had on his desk and crept towards the back room. In the backroom he found the source of the sound, a bearded man in black was purposely tangling up the clubhouse’s extra Christmas lights. “Wow… you’re a dick.” He said. The man rounded on him, whipped out an RPG-7, and fired, “Allahu Akbar!” The RPG’s fins didn’t open, and the rocket flew around the room before hitting the ceiling, causing a large chunk of ceiling to fall upon the intruder. “Huh… well that happened.” Classy said, then returned to his plotting desk. “You’re kidding me!” RedShirt exclaimed, “a jihadist broke into our clubhouse just to tangle up our excess Christmas lights?” “Yeah it’s kind of retarded…” Classy said. “Seal, call Grey.” Red ordered. “Why me?” Seal asked. “Because Grey hates me.” Red replied. Seal mumbled something about Scandinavians and pulled out his Blackberry, “Grey, faggot, how the fuck did an ISIS Kebab get to Detroit? You navy goyim are supposed to be stopping them!” “How the fuck are you calling me ON deployment?!” Grey screamed. “And about that… the US Navy kinda… defected…” “All of it?” Seal asked. “Yes. Shit someone is coming.” Grey said, “Allahu Akbar, and Takbir, and bombs and yardis slaves and such, away, away, away down in dar-fal-al-Dixie!” “So what are you going to do?” Seal asked. Grey was silent for sometime, “To be honest, I’ll probably do something to get myself killed… Hey! That way I won’t have to hear about RedXPat™ ever again!” “Have fun with that?” Seal answered. “Bye, I’m going to go take on an entire frigate’s worth of Jihadists with just a spoon!” Grey said and then hung up. “Classy! I said I wanted those invasion plans by this morning!” 2D bellowed as he kicked down the door. “Fuck off we’re busy!” Classy screamed back. “Fine! I’ll just fly all the way back to the European clubhouse and tell the Commissar that you’re too busy to do as told!” 2D exploded. “The Commissar is a massive faggot!” Classy said. “Ok, now let’s get going before more thugs show up from ISIL/ISIS/IS/ The Caliphate or whatever the fuck it calls itself these days!” “Wait!” Tux exclaimed, “It’s Mormonmas, so we need more red and green.” He said, then grabbed Terran (who was rereading the manifesto) and Kelly (who was smoking a pan flute of blunts). “Now we can go.” The group gathered into Paddle Steamer’s Austin Mini (Paddle Steamer himself was in the trunk masturbating to a picture of Octavia dressed as a fish) and drove off towards the Detroit-Windsor border (because Canada vowed that any ISIS attack on Canada would be “met with trenches”). As they drove they listened to the radio “A representative of the Islamic State has come forward to deliver the following message: My fellow Amorikhans I, President Barack Husain Obama, would like to announce today that the glorious Caliphate has captured dar-fal-al-North Pole and has taken Santa hostage under charges of ‘Being a Christian Saint’ From now on the ISIS will be delivering presents. And there you have it folks, isn’t our president just the greatest!” “Fuck this shit, I don’t want another Quran for Chistmas!” Kelly (the driver) said. “To the north pole!” He exclaimed and hit a button that released the parachute and turned on the desk fan mounted to the roof of the car, filling the parachute with air, causing the vehicle to fly (and causing Red to froth at the mouth as he screamed scientifically). He then turned on the radio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhrBDcQq2DM) and everyone started head bopping. Will the Commissar ever realize that Celestia is unattractive? Will Ranger ever loose his virginity? Will 2D vanquish the dark lord Distorted Flare in a rap battle? Will the Ebola-ing happen? Will Chrome actually name his kid John Hood Chrome? Find out next time! //-------------------------------------------------------// On the second day of HASmas... //-------------------------------------------------------// On the second day of HASmas... 2D kicked in the door of the has Sarajevo Clubhouse so hard that the door flew off its hinges and killed Distorted Flare (no they will not be having a rap battle) “Alexer! Faggot! Get your ass here now!” He bellowed. “No! I gib anal to prostitute I dress like Celestia!” Alexer shouted back. (no he will not be realizing that Celestia is unattractive) “Following his annexation of Crimea, victory in the George Brown case, conquest of the entire Levant, and victory over Santa, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi has been elected Times person of the year!” The radio announcer said just as Classy turned the radio off and shoved in his own mixed tape. Then, as the familiar tune of Rome Total War’s ‘Warrior March’ started to play, he climbed out onto the hood of the flying car pointed his Katana forward and dramatically announced, “With Jeff Van Dyck as my witness we will save Christmas!” “Get the fuck off the hood douche bag!” Kelly shouted at him. John Hood, King of the Crusader State of Gaza, turned around to see Handyman, Marshal of the Hospitallers, rush in, “Grave news my lord! The infidels have captured St. Nickolas!” John Hood shook with anger, “Santa was going to get me a Roseluck Plushie! I DECLARE A CRUSADE!” At his word a hundred thousand soccer fans armed with AKMs marched off towards ar-Raqqa. Off the coast of Florida, Florida M Jenkins was fishing in his boat and contemplating where he would strike next when suddenly a hammerhead shark that was at least 22 feet long appeared off his bow. “OLD HITLER!” Florida M screamed as he recognized his arch nemesis. Classy was still standing on the hood in the middle of a blinding Canadian snowstorm when he felt the car land. “Kelly I know this isn’t the fucking North Pole! Why the fuck are we stopping?!” “Cause Timmy breaks!” Seal shouted as he lead the group through the storm to the shelter of a near by Tim Hortons. Will Omar Pasha return from the dead? Will Redemption ever succeed in reclaiming his status as “lead socialist in HAS”? Will feminists ever stop talking about their own vaginas? Find out tomorrow! //-------------------------------------------------------// On the third day of HASmas... //-------------------------------------------------------// On the third day of HASmas... “What do you mean the darkest coffee you have is a double double?!” Red raged at the cashier. “I get that you Canadians need to blubber up for the winter but for fuck’s sakes!” “Red, I got this.” Seal said as he shouldered Red aside. “Madam, we’re from the internet.” “I know that you’re-“ “Wait how did you know that?” Seal questioned. “because I’m Pat.” The cashier stated. “Holy fuck you’re actually a girl!” Kelly exclaimed. Year 8 of the Australian Jihad: Dropbear inspected his men, three thousand Kangaroo, Koala, Emu, Crocodile and Giant Spider cavalry at his beck and call. He mounted his own Bull Frog steed and turned to his advisor, the dark wizard Lorenzo, “Lorenzo, have the bitches ready for my return.” “Yeah yeah… fuck your self.” Lorenzo replied. “That’ll have to do…” Dropbear said, then took up his lance, “TODAY WE FIGHT THE RESAULT OF UNRESTRICTED IMMIGRATION, TODAY WE FIGHT FOR ‘STRAYA CUNT!” He said then lead the charge (5 hops later and his frog hand been crushed under his weight.). Classy sat at a table at the back of the room and tapped his finger on the table as he watched Red fawn over Pat. “This is pathetic.” “I know right!” Paddle Steamer said as he sat down near by. “NO! What you were doing in the trunk was worse.” Classy said and slammed his fist down on the table. “I don’t know what’s worse; that you were masturbating to a picture of Octavia dressed as a picture of a Beiyang Admiral Ding Ruchang, or that such an image exists. So don’t get me started on you.” Kelly suddenly ran out of the washroom. “No time to explain but EVERYBODY RUN!” The group followed him out when suddenly Red stopped, “Wait! Pat’s still inside!” The Tim Hortons then exploded. Will Seal get clubbed? Will Kabar propose to his Kabar? Will ISIS/ISIl/IS/The Caliphate decide on a single name? Will Shakespeare ever write a sequel to his play “Call of Duty World at War”? Find out next time! //-------------------------------------------------------// on the 4th day of HASmas... //-------------------------------------------------------// on the 4th day of HASmas... “Fuck you I ain’t doing shit!” Seal said as Red cried in front of the ruins of the Tim Hortons, and Classy screamed at him to get in the car. //-------------------------------------------------------// On the somethingith day of HASmas //-------------------------------------------------------// On the somethingith day of HASmas The somethingth day of HaSmas Classy picked up his cellphone “What the fuck do you want?” “So… Me and Alexer had a fight.” 2D replied. “And?” Classy asked in an annoyed manner. “I formed a breakoff group Called Humans are Magnificent, or HaM for short.” Classy abruptly opened the door of the flying car, hopped out and plunged to his death. “Admin called it!” Kelly exclaimed. Meanwhile in northern Germany: A army of 20 thousand Swedish ISIS fighters marched into a town. “Excellent now we can collect welfare and rape women!” One of them exclaimed. “That would be true if this was West Germany…” The man at the head of the column said. “WHAT?!” the nearest jihadist exclaimed. “I tricked you with a map that had a reversed compass rose. You thought you were taking directions from Mohammed Abdul,” the man ripped off his islamic garb to reveal a generic western engineer, “BUT IT WAS I WLAM!” At that moment skin heads emerged from the ally way bent on showing these newcomers some Eastern Hospitality. “Are we there yet?” Seal asked. “Fuck off.” Kelly replied. “Are you sure?” Seal asked. “I’m certain you’re a faggot.” Kelly replied. “Some one said my name?” Glowcloud the genie said as he appeared out of the radiator. “Who the fuck are you?” Kelly asked. “Well I dropped out of high school to become a professional MRA, and my choices were living in the engine, or living with my furry boyfriend.” Glow answered. “So Classy has been replaced with a gay version of Kabar… Meh we could do worse.” At that moment Red noticed that Paddlesteamer was crying. “What’s wrong brother?” (the MURIKHAN had yet to completely leave his system) “I don’t know if I like Octavia or Curie more…” Paddle said, and when he saw that Red didn’t care he elaborated, “IT’S TEARING ME APART MORE THAN SEAL’S GRAMMAR!” “Wait wait wait!” Kelly announced. “Holy shit we finally found it! We found Santa’s workshop!” They then 9/11’d that bitch. “Aw yeah we’re here to kill terries and get Santa to fund my lab!” Red said as he emerged from the REKTage, only to disappointedly sigh at the sight of half of Abu Bakr’s face stuck in the grill of the car. “Aw… I wanted to cap him.” “You’re here to save me?” Santa asked. “You know they’ve had me for a year.” “Yeah there were delays…” Kelly said. “How the fuck did we end up in South Africa that one time?” Paddle asked quietly from the fettle position. “Well late’s better than never… One Christmas wish for you guys, go!” Santa said after they cut him free of his bonds. “For those damn metafics to update!” The group exclaimed. “Let it be so-HO-HO-HO!” Santa said and hoped in his sleigh to make deliveries (a full year late). Seal then got a call on his cell, “Ello?” “Yo, it’s Grey.” “Did you kill any sand people?” Seal asked excitedly. “No. I was shot and killed literally the second I hung up last time.” Grey replied angrily. “Ok… so how are you calling.” Seal asked. “Hell is full of lawyers and cable companies… It’s actually pretty nice here now, we have decent wifi and cell reception, at a cost, and excellent civil rights.” Grey replied, “Hey Classy and Florida are here as well, put this shit on speakerphone.” “Ok!” Seal said and put phone on speaker. “Wow it’s so great to spend Christmas with my HaMily.” As they gathered around Seal’s cell to chat with their deceased HaSsian friends one of the surviving ISIS fighters sprayed them down with his AK. They all died. //-------------------------------------------------------// on the 5th and 6th days of HASmas... //-------------------------------------------------------// on the 5th and 6th days of HASmas... They had been flying for many hours when Classy suddenly ordered them to land. They couldn’t have landed in a worse place. “Stupid CIS scum! Stop oppressing us!” The Stockholm Whites Against White Males Society chanted as they chased the group through Stockholm. “We must have overshot the north pole!” Paddle Steamer remarked as they ran. Up ahead they heard what sounded like Arabic music, “In to the alleyway!” Kelly directed them as they ran. From their safe point in the alleyway they watched as the Dar Caroleans, the army of the new Somali Sultanate of Sweden faced the mob, formed up with their RPGs and preformed fire-by-rank on the mob. “YES THANKYOU FOR CHECKING OUR PRIVALEGE!” The beaten and broken survivors said with glee. They were then raped to death by the Dar Caroleans. “Why is Sweden so shit?!” Red asked. “Well…” Seal began when he was interrupted by some guy in the alley. “Don’t rape my daughter! Take me instead!” He said and bent over to display. “Well I may just have to…” Classy said as he walked over, then stopped, stared at the rear, and touched his middle finger to his thumb to make a circle. “Yeah nevermind.” Meanwhile Kabar and the rest of #GamerGate were waging their autistic Twitter war against the retards from Tumblr. As they ran back to the car Red tripped and scraped his knee. “Get moving Red!” Seal urged. “No! I must let my hated Scandinavian blood out of my body!” He said as he blew on his wound, “The more I bleed the closer to 100% American I become!” “What happens when you reach 100%?” Seal asked. “I embrace muh freedoms!” Red said, as he stood up, now twice as tall and completely jacked. He scooped up the entire group and with a single jump got them to the car and climbed in, the Austin Mini transforming into a Monster Truck, crossed with an M1 Abrams, crossed with an F-22, crossed with a McDonalds. “Let’s rock!” He screamed as he rocketed the vehicle off towards the north pole.