A Sports Suck Carol

Since you're all here, it's time for a story. Gather ye round the sacrificial fire, children, and I will tell you a tale. A tale of wonder, and joy, and sorrow, and ponies (okay, maybe not ponies). And Sports Suck. Because we came from SportsSuck.org. If you guys wanted to hear some sort of Jinglemas tale about Google, go there instead. We don't do that 'round these parts.

Anyhow, this is... A Sports Suck Carol.

On a dark and exceptionally British Jinglemas Eve (despite the fact he's American), our protagonist/antagonist is sitting hunched at his desk, counting the enormous stack of coins he's made from owning the Sports Suck Child-Coal Foundry. His name is Ebenezeray Scrooge, and any resemblance that bears to Ebenezer Scrooge is completely coincidental. We can only guess as to what our American protagonist/antagonist really looks like, but we can draw for ourselves a reasonable approximation using actual testimony from actual disgruntled Sport Suck users:


(Artist's Rendering)

Alternatively, he looks something like the picture below. Any resemblance to actual Sports Suck administrators is, again, completely coincidental.


(His Mother's Rendering)

Joining us is Ebenezeray's lovable employee at the Sports Suck Child-Coal Foundry, Earl.


Let's see what they're up to!

: Hey, Ebenezeray, can you turn up the heat? It's freezing in here.
: Heat costs money. Wear a jacket.
: I can't. Tore all the sleeves off of them.
: 'Cause if my sleeves aren't ripped, how will people know that I'm ripped?
: Hm. What about pay? For being a mod? Can I have that, then?
: Pay costs money. Wear a jacket.
: I'm sensing a trend here.
: Well, what about my Jinglemas bonus?
: Can you ban everyone from Sports Suck, so we don't have to deal with them?
: Wait, wait wait. Slow down there, chap. Bonus?
: Yeah. You know... for Jinglemas?
: Jinglemas? Bah, humban!
: Wow, was that supposed to be 'humbug'?
: You're fired. Get out.
: But Ebenezeray! It's Jinglemas! Have some heart!
: If I wanted heart, I'd wear a jacket. Now get out.

Later that very Jinglemas Eve, alone in his cold, dark bed, Ebenezeray received a visit from an old friend he'd thought long departed...

Raleigh Marley


: Ebenezeray, it is I, Raleigh Marley! Your old business partner!
: Remember? I died of Code Cancer?
: Woah, is that a thing you can get?
: Well I'm dead, aren't I?
: Fair point.
: In my life I had no appreciation for Jinglemas, like you.
: Now I wear these chains in death, because they look cool.
: Even now the cold iron burdens my weary soul.
: So I'm sure I could code them to be a bit lighter and faster.
: Look, I'm kinda trying to sleep here, so...
: You, Ebenezeray Scrooge, will be visited by three ghosts tonight!
: Yeah, okay, whatever. Going to bed now.
: No, really! Watch out! When the clock strikes, they will—
: I'll amend my ways later.
: It's like three in the morning right now.

And so, when the clock struck, the first of the three ghosts appeared!

Geordie Glenn! The Ghost of Sports Suck Past!


: Hey, Ebenezeray! How are you—
: No.
: But I didn't even—
: No.
: Look, I'm here to take you on a spiritual journey, whether you want it or not.
: No.
: Oh, come on! Don't you remember the Jinglemases of last year, and the year before that?
: How you weren't bitter and cold, but lively and full of Jinglemas cheer?
: I am pretty sure I have never been full of Jinglemas cheer.
: Think hard, Ebenezeray! There was a time, once, when you weren't an obvious Scrooge analogue.
: Whatever happened to that?
Random user A: Ebenezeray, fix your broken child-coal foundry!
Random user B: You're not posting my e-mails in the Letters section!
Random user C: You banned me from the guestbook!
: Oh. Right.
: Do you see?
: I'll, uh... I'll just be going now. Merry Jinglemas.
: Bah, humban.

Even laterer that very same night, the next ghost appeared!

Don! The Ghost of Sports Suck Present!


: Ray. We need to talk.
: Is it going to be another appeal to my long-dead Jinglemas spirit?
: Um. Maybe.
: Just hear me out, okay?
: There are a lot of cool users out there!
: Even if some of them don't appreciate the work you put into your child-coal foundry...
: And they represent you as a crusty old man, counting your coins while telling employees to wear jackets...
: This is going to get awkward in a hurry.
: Some of us do still care!
: Yeah, like me!
: Ebenezeray bless us, every o—
: Quiet, Tiny Samdaman, nobody cares about you.
: But I'll be dead by Jinglemas morn, sir!
: Yeah, uh, I'm not really feeling the Jinglemas vibe here, guys. Sorry.
: Why, Tiny Samdaman?
: Why do you ruin everything?

Even laterer that very same night, the third and final ghost appeared!

Skul! The Ghost of Sports Suck Soul-Flaying!


: Just please stop already. I'm trying to sleep.
: Well, uh, okay I'll just pencil you in for—
: Nope. Moral time now.
: Ugh, fine. Just be quick so I can get back to bed.
: Right. Quick.
: So, the gist of it is that, in the future...
: You will die.
: See?

: O... kay. I'll keep an eye out for that in, what, 110 years, then?
: No, no, see! If you don't change your ways, you'll be deeeaaad!
: It's a chance for redemption, y'know?
: "Get into the Jinglemas spirit... or else!"
: How is changing my ways going to stop me from dying?
: I, uh...
: That's actually a pretty good point.
: And who wrote that silly epitaph if I'll die alone and unloved?
: Look, the idea is that—
: This is a terribly stupid way of teaching me anything.
: Y'know what? Fine.
: Find your own moral.
: I don't even know why you had to be taught this stuff by ghosts anyway.
: You and me both, man.

And still even laterer that night — so much laterer, in fact, that it was day — Ebenezeray awoke in a fright!

: Oh no, oh no!
: What day is it now? Is it too late for me?
: You there, boy! Is it still Jinglemas?
Random boy: In England or America?
: England, you fool! We're in England!
Random boy: Oh. Well then... probably?
: Good, good! It's not too late, then!

Huffing and puffing with every step, Ebenezeray ran to the house of his trusty former employee, Earl.

: Earl! I've had a change of heart!
: I was visited by three ghosts last night.
: And all of them sucked at teaching morals.
: But their visits inspired me!
: I have literally no idea what you're talking about.
: They taught me a valuable lesson. One I may never forget.
: Um.... okay.
: And that lesson was...?
: The userbase sucks. I'm banning everyone for Jinglemas.
: WAIT, REALLY?
: I'VE DREAMED EVERY DAY OF THIS MOMENT!
: You have found the true spirit of Jinglemas, Ebenezeray!
: Sure.
: A feast! A feast for all! Let everyone know that Ebenezeray's found the spirit of Jinglemas!

And so it was that Ebenezeray Scrooge discovered the true meaning of Jinglemas. For it's not about how many coins you have, or how many ghosts have to rise from the dead to teach you a contrived lesson — it's about giving. And getting. And banning. Especially banning. Lots and lots of banning. Just... bans out the wazoo, you don't even know. Maybe even deleting the forum, just to be sure.

It's said that Ebenezeray's heart grew three sizes that day, and whether or not that is a dangerous medical condition, people today continue to tell his story, as an example to all good site admins and site adminettes that Jinglemas can be a time of a joy for them as well. Not just for the flesh-reapers, the tentacloids, and the userbase.

The End.



: Ebenezeray ban us, every one!

The events of this tale were entirely fictional. Any resemblance these characters bear to actual Sports Suck staff members is accidental and not supported by canon.

  Merry Jinglemas, everyone! Happy New Year! 

I liked that.

Also, happy one year anniversary for the new site!

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year, ThinWhiteDuke!   

Since she is no longer able to read a PC screen display, I read Skul's Jinglemas Carol to Mrs. Earl.  She guffawed.

I was especially touched by Tiny Samdaman in this inspiring tale!  I must admit that tears came to my eyes.      

*sniff* What a truly moving story, Mr. Dickenskul! It so completely captures the true meaning of the Jinglemas season. Thank you very much.