Trainer Nato: Well Remy, you may be puffing your chest a tad now, but I’ve been saving the best for last.
Santa from Santa’s Slay, I CHOOSE YOU!
Ha, you can keep your flamethrower and stupid mask, because this Santa is a demon forced into a life of good deeds when he lost a costly wager, but guess what kiddies, all bets are off now!
Bursting from his Pokéball with brute force, shattering the sphere in an explosion of red and green, out lumbers Goldberg-Claus, the pissed off Santa looking to spill some blood.
Goldberg-Claus dashes through the snow directly towards Silent Santa, gaining momentum like a gigantic snowball rolling downhill. Remy’s Silent Santa goes to kick on his chestnut roasting flamethrower, but a kink in his hose causes a momentary malfunction, rendering this psycho Santa heavily unarmed – not a great situation with a much stronger and more physically abusive Santy Claus barrelling down on him.
Digging into his signature moves lickity split, Goldberg-Claus lowers his head and delivers a spine-splitting football tackle known only as “The Spear” to our defenseless Silent Santa, leaving him twitching on the ground. With his HP low and in a state of paralysis, Remy has no choice but to look on after a critical hit was administered by Goldberg-Clause. Remy cries out for another flamethrower attack, but it’s no use.  Silent Santa could do nothing but lay there in agony, forced to skip his turn. Good thing too, because it just would have drawn the whole ordeal out. With a simple approving nod from his trainer, Goldberg-Claus climbs the highest ledge around, signals to the crowd, and delivers a game ending frog-splash from the top ropes. Sweet sugar plum filled dreams, Silent Santa.
But what is this? Remy still has a trick up his sleeve? Blast! Rare Exports Santa still lives as he was pulled from battle earlier, already with a leer attack that boosted his defensive power. Trainer Nato exhibits momentary disdain, but then remembers Goldberg-Claus is a straight boss.
Starting the final battle off, Rare Santa again uses his hellish glare, opting not to psychically strike. Confused in what should be the heat of battle, Goldberg-Claus injures himself in confusion like a f#cking dummy.
*No seriously, that always pissed me off, I don’t care how confused you are, you have to TRY to hit yourself in the face. Wouldn’t you still punch straight out, maybe hitting your trainer (from a Pokemon’s perspective) and pissing them off?
No matter, because Goldberg-Claus has inflicted damage upon himself in a caveman like showing of stupidity.
Returning back to Rare Santa, he finally takes the offensive, using a berserker style rage attack, clawing at Goldberg-Claus with those dangerously sharp claws. Remy watches with a devilish gleam in his eye, seeing his plan working perfectly.
Too bad Remy has completely underestimated how mighty Goldberg-Claus actually is, still possessing a hefty amount of HP, and his attacking turn. Reaching into his merry sack of death, out Goldberg-Claus pulls a festively decorated Christmas present. Aw, how nice! Winding up and delivering a fastball directly at our Rare Santa, it turns out a loving gift isn’t hidden inside the snowman covered wrapping, and instead an impact detonating grenade. Boom goes the dynamite, and the Santa, throwing him back a considerable amount. His old age and frail body are no match for the blast, leaving him in critical condition. Too weak to compete, Remy calls back Rare Santa and admits defeat, begrudgingly kicking a rock all the way to the nearest Pokemon Center.
But what’s this!? Is Goldberg-Claus evolving!? Wait, that’s not leveling up – what are those flying ghosts? Oh no, remember how there can only be one? Having already consumed the souls of Saint Santa and Silent Santa, Goldberg-Claus makes a B-line for Trainer Remy, does something wicked with an icicle, unleashes Rare Santa, finishes the job with one last “present,” and consumes the final remaining soul. (Yes, that’s a Highlander reference.)
In an attempt to re-capture his renegade Claus, Trainer Nato uses another Pokéball, but the now even stronger Goldberg-Claus crushes the device with a swift kick. Giving his old trainer a wink, Goldberg-Claus belts a hearty laugh, then exclaims “Merry Christmas Nato, I’ll be visiting very soon. Keep the milk warm for me!” That was the last Trainer Nato ever saw of Goldberg-Claus, but he still refuses to sleep come Christmas Eve, keeping an open ear for the pitter patter of footsteps on his roof, and a watchful eye for dust fluttering down his chimney.
Winning Trainer: Nato?
Winning Santa: Goldberg-Claus
Final Conclusion: We’re not really sure what you just read or why you did, but Merry Christmas from both Remy and I! May all your days be snowy, white, and without vengeful Santas!
*A special thanks to Remy for stepping in to guest write! Feel free to follow either of us on Twitter for even more insanity and updates:
Matt Donato Follow @DoNatoBomb
Remy Carreiro Follow @RemyCarreiro
Like what you read? Check out last week’s article where we confess our most guilty horror movie pleasures! I mean, infected fried chicken and beds that eat people, what else do you need??
