Eskimos
seem pretty "cute" to us, I suppose, with their little igloos and their
little furry hooded jackets, and their chubby little rosy cheeks. I must
tell you my friends, that there is a dark side mired in the daily lifestyles
of our friends up north. And it's dark not because their days are naturally
shorter than ours but rather because it is saturated in murky deeds and
dire, immoral etcetera. Allow me to share some of these hidden Eskimo
rituals. I hope you are sitting down for this.
In the cold tundra, an Eskimo must learn to survive or perish. Eskimo law dictates that "the man who climbs the highest mountain shall survive". It's like "survival of the fittest" except that these Eskimos can get pretty chunky so the "fit" part isn't very practical. Still, you must be in superb physical condition to jump, smash, and climb the terrifying heights the common Eskimo must climb. Armed with only a gigantic deadly hammer of death, even the weakest understand the basic moves: 1) swing gigantic deadly hammer of death and; 2) swing gigantic deadly hammer of death while jumping. Both methods can smash ice blocks and stun the creatures of the arctic tundra, if not slay them outright. Eskimos enjoy brutal, violent, murderous climbing, you see.
The
rigors of the mountain are many. Besides being eaten alive by angry birds of
prey or gigantic, slow-moving flying insects, spotting Bigfoot is
commonplace around these northern wastes. Yes, that's right, my friends, the
Yeti exists. Fortunately, he is easily stunned by a swift blow with an
enormous, skull-crushing instrument of chaos. There are also deadly icicles
that will plummet from high above. Care must be taken to avoid these, or
bash them to pieces with your terrifying bludgeoning hammer. If you think
this is horrifying, an even more sinister creature awaits the brave Eskimo
who takes too long to climb the sheer rock face: an indestructible polar
bear! Of course, particularly stupid Eskimos exist too. These are the kind
who break holes in the ice, climb through them and then later plummet to
their death through the very hole they used to proceed. Silly little dead
Eskimo!
It is because of these many dangers that the judicious Eskimo typically travels with a partner. This provides good back-up when the situation turns ugly. "Two massively destructive tools of crushing are better than one" is the Eskimo mantra.
The
path to the top requires a great deal of jumping, flailing, and killing and
is further impaired by other, some may say supernatural, obstacles as
well. For example, there are especially slippery ice paths that can send an
unsuspecting Eskimo right over the edge, and there are shifting clouds that
the magic-wielding Eskimo can leap upon to transport him horizontally across
the mountain face. However, perhaps the most incredible proof that black
magick exists here is the fact that Bigfoot can produce an unlimited number
of magical ice bridges! That's right, if a Bigfoot encounters a hole, he'll
run back to his apartment (Bigfoot homes are numbered to avoid Bigfoots not
returning to their proper home after a night of drinking. Remember, the
nights are VERY long there) and produce a magical bridge, sealing up the
hole so that he may travel freely and eat any Eskimo not dexterous enough to
smash his skull in when he approaches.
What's
it all for, you may ask. What compels these chubby little bastards to brave
these physical and metaphysical dangers of this dark, icy world? The answer
is eggplant. Eggplant, and catching a ride on a Pterodactyl. For once the
perilous journey has ended, the hungry vegan Eskimo can now collect the ripe
eggplants that are commonly found at the peaks of the highest mountains.
It's a shame that these Eskimos can't enjoy meat, since they produce piles
of it in their kill-crazy rampage up the mountain, but it's all part of
their mysterious ways.
There you have it, my friends. It is a bizarre lifestyle, true, but it is the way of the Eskimo. Destruction, bone-crushing death, and eggplant. The rest of us can only dream.
