Merry Christmas, everyone. Today is a day meant for sharing with family and friends, gathering around the tree or the table, and remembering the glorious traditions of your respective religion. Which is why you are on the internet, reading this instead of doing what you’re supposed to.

Anyway, we had a great Christmas morn here at the Castle.

Your Œcumenical Volgi, or 孔夫子, for those who came in late, or The Notorious ŒV, for those of you who don’t apparently exist, was excited to get a bottle of Liao port from Mandarin, a rare Dutch umlaut from the Czar, a keyboard you blow into from GorT, a tin of Altoids (empty) from ‘Puter, and a fire extinguisher from Dr. J. Volgi couldn’t be happier with these, because he’s fairly depressed and really didn’t want to invest any more emotion into anything.

A Maid-Milking Ghettoputer, or ‘Puter, for those of us who actually read his writing, was delighted to open up a five-foot-long barbecue tong set from Czar, a fire extinguisher from Dr. J, a sponge cake from Volgi (evidently not edible), a box of punt gun ammo from Mandarin, and a 9K disc of Avengers 8 from GorT, which he can’t play because the 9K player he got for his birthday needs to be plugged in. He was so enamored of the generosity of his friends that he spent the rest of the morning whipping Sleestak with a belt.

The Inscrutably Merry Mandarin, or 吏恆, received a mashed Portillo’s hot dog from ‘Puter, a box of char cloth from GorT, New Glarus Spotted Cow from Volgi, those plastic Hulk fists you pound to make electronic smash noises from Czar, and a fire extinguisher from Dr. J. Mandarin spent the entire day sick in the bathroom. But at least we saw him at breakfast!

The Swans-a-Swimming GorT, or GorTechie, bleeped his acceptance when he tore open his gifts. He got a fire extinguisher from Dr. J, another jar of KL5 wax from Mandarin, a soy sauce packet from ‘Puter, a tea cozy from Czar, and a magnetic Mr. Potatohead from Volgi. We spent the day with the latter, putting eyes and mouths on GorT in funny ways, unaware that the magnets were causing him terrible pain.

Our Sith Lord-a-Leaping, Dr. J, was letting the hate flow through him to see what his friends gave him. Mandarin got him a reverse Simon (which is great for control freaks, because it has to match the patterns you come up with). And Czar pleased him with the heavily pornographic Pretty Pretty Pony video (watch for Fella). Volgi excited the good doctor with the D&D Dungeon Master’s swimsuit issue, complete with fold-in. GorT made the doc’s day with a proto-interferometer, which was used to test how much pain we could put Mandarin through before he raised an eyebrow, and ‘Puter gave him some chewable children’s aspirin that still had the kid’s tooth marks on it.

And last, your dread and jolly awful Czar of Muscovy, the one and only, most humble and Ho-Ho-Horrible Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй, was honored and sated with his gifts. ‘Puter gave him a coupon pack he found in someone’s mailbox, GorT gave the Czar an Atlantean battle axe, Mandarin gave him front row tickets to the defunct Chicago Express hockey game, Volgi gave him a Qin Dynasty windshield ice scraper, and Dr. J gave him a fire starting kit which we can’t wait to try out.

We hope your gifts were as dangerously rewarding as ours were this morning, and just a reminder that we will still accept late gifts from all of you throughout the new year ahead. Merry Christmas, readers!

The Czar of Muscovy

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.