“But do you recall, the most badass, American reindeer of all?”
When your profession consists of being American, and spreading your Americanness across the expanse of the internet, it’s easy to let the holiday season slip away. That’s why we have the most expensive, badass advent calendar ever created at our America Fun Fact of the Day offices, so that the hard workers of the AFFotD can spend their December being showered in sports cars, caviar, and IOUs for sexual favors from Hollywood’s most attractive stars and starlets. We started things off with a bang on December 1st. Literally, when our official Creepy AFFotD Office Guy, Steve Buscemi opened the door, a midget was shot out of a cannon right into his stomach. It was hilarious, Steve made a woodchipper in Fargo joke, and the midget complained about how hungry and weak he felt after being trapped in that cannon without food for like three weeks.
Anyway, we could go on about how badass and American this advent calendar was, or about its hefty price tag, or about that time that a Bruce Springsteen concert was our advent for December 14th, but that’d be getting ahead of things. Today, our advent was the ability to meet, and talk to, the one animal associated with Christmas that is more American than Santa Claus eating a KFC Double Down while participating in a fight club in International Waters. We almost didn’t recognize him when he sprang out, decked in camouflage fatigues, smoking a ten inch cigar and violently headbutting a Russian repeatedly in the groin. But when the comrade collapsed, blacking out from the pain, we saw the beast’s unmistakable, glorious red, glowing nose.
It was Rudolph the motherfucking reindeer.
“Sup girl. How you livin?”
“Holy shit, you guys,” was our animatronic version of George C. Scott’s initial response.
“Fucking. Bad. Ass,” Ed Norton, our financial expert, said before pushing in all his chips in the game of Texas Hold ‘Em he was playing.
“Haha, guys, I don’t think that Russian’s getting up,” giggled Bill Clinton, who’s not on staff, but always tries to snag the damn sex IOUs every December advent season.
Rudolph, no longer the child that we all remember from the Christmas special, walked over to our fully stocked bar, grabbed a bottle of bourbon, and downed the sucker like John Belushi in Animal House. He then threw down the bottle and shouted, “Let’s fucking rage!”
And rage we did, but not before finding out the true story of Rudolph “Santa’s enforcer” the Red-Nosed Reindeer, in all of it’s not-edited-for-TV glory.
Once you point out that this picture can easily be viewed as sexual, your childhood has officially died
Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer was born in the Northern Woods of Minnesota in 1953 to a tumultuous world. Born with a glowing red nose, some progressive American half-elves felt he could do well in the North Pole with a little bit of flight training. They were ecstatic to find that Rudolph was a flight prodigy, successfully launching himself into a majestic flight pattern that even the most experienced of reindeer have difficulty with. The elation of the American half-elves quickly turned to horror as Rudolph murdered the shit out of a bald eagle passing by.
Rudolph took it upon himself to fly out to the North Pole for reindeer tryouts, but it was the early 1960s, and the North Pole was, shall we say, a wee bit racist. All the other reindeers shouted at him, “hey freak nose, we don’t want your kind here.” In a fit of rage, Rudolph killed four of the taunting reindeers before being held back by his close friend and father figure, Donner.
Admittedly, he was kind of a dick
To hear Rudolph discuss that time in his life, “Yeah, the movie had a lot of shit wrong, but it’s TV, what are you gonna do? Made more sense to say Donner was my dad, but he wasn’t. He was just the one to take me under his hoof, to teach me how to keep my cool instead of just stabbing my way through my problems. He took me in, trained me how to make Santa’s team, and when there was tail to chase, he always made sure to save sloppy seconds for ‘the little guy’.”
Rudolph was forced into exile, wanted for quadruple deer-a-cide, and wandered the North Pole a wayward soul. It was there that he encountered a strange little elf named Hermey, who told everyone he got fired because he wanted to be a dentist, when really the North Pole has had a “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy in effect for ages.
“Dentist is code for a gay sex act you’re not aware of.”
They went on to be close friends. As Rudolph informed us, “Yeah, we were partners in crime. I mean, I don’t like dudes but I got nothing wrong with other dudes who are into that stuff, and Hermey knew where the line was and he made sure not to cross it.”
They added a third member to their party when they ran into Yukon Cornelius, a small time coke dealer looking for a big score. After they defrauded and robbed a leper colony (“Ha, island of misfit ‘toys’ my ass, they were lepers,” Rudolph said) they eventually headed back to Santa’s camp when the storm of the century hit, stranding Santa. Leaving a trail of his enemies in his wake, Rudolph made it to Santa, who realized that the young, angry reindeer could help him. His nose could shine his way through the worst of storms, and his brute strength and questionable decision making abilities could be used to break up union strikes (Santa paid his elves and reindeer absolutely shitty money).
During the “off-season,” Rudolph traveled the world as a gun for hire, sort of like a Mr. T from the A-Team combined with a Mr. T from Rocky III. He served as a helicopter in the Vietnam war, and in the 1980’s unsuccessfully attempted to launch a hip-hop career under the name “Rudy RND.” He had one minor hit, “Make it Rain-Deer.” Sample lyrics include-
They call Rudy RND ‘cause I got the red-nose
I be runnin’ the santa’s sleigh through all them ho’s
Yeah it’s Rudy RND, I’ll dealin’ straight up yayo
Go to the NP I’ll show you abominable snow
Needless to say, we were all pretty stoked when he decided to partake in our daily AFFotD freestyle rap against our reigning (no pun intended) champ, Land O’ Lakes (“they call me land o lakes cuz I’m smooth like butter” he informs us on a constant basis). Rudolph won, hands down.
All in all, it was a nice way to remind us that Christmas is rapidly approaching, and Santa’s crew doesn’t stand for any punk ass bitches. Which is a relief, because we don’t have to worry about that. We are the opposite of punk ass bitches.
You see, we are…Americans.