Over 183.9 years ago, two merchants shared a dream for Christ-Mass: a gingerbread house so large that all men, whether Christian, Mohammedian, or Juwe, might worship the Christ within it. This mighty structure would unite the hearts of good Englishmen everywhere in the unity of goodwill, that they might stand as one and smash the Irish race from this Earth forever.
Unfortunately, the structural integrity of cookie-bread proved catastrophic, and 500 souls were lost that first year when a flying buttress made of fondant collapsed on their heads. But did the merchants give up? Nay! They found a new dream—one of the exchange of commercial gifts that would make them richer than any man dared dream each Christmas. And so was born—the Pumblechook & Figg catalog of Mercantile Goods.
Now it is yours to enjoy over at Cracked. I think I only made four references to cannibalism, two to infanticide, and two more to exploitative child labor, so it was a pretty family-friendly year for Victorian England’s greatest catalog warehouse. Oh, and a sentient robot who could not protest his life in sex slavery. Merry Christmas!
You had it all planned but society’s frail threads snapped on your plan for a perfect new future. Comes with sledgehammer for shattering concrete and metal, and batteries for when the electricity fails.
Hunky Male Mercenaries
[This was supposed to accompany Foxy Female Assassins, but it didn’t have enough comic oomph.] Surely this will work now. Team of manly murderers brainwashed their entire lives to kill and die for you without piffling emotions or fanciful ability to feel pain. Unsullied by vice or virtue, these—AIEEE! They’re turning around! RUN!
Event horizon expands over time and at increasing rate to eventually consume all we know and ever shall be.