Forget Coal — These Christmas Creatures Will Eat Naughty Children

While children in America might fear getting coal in their stockings, kids in other parts of the world are warned about demons who beat them bloody, a giant cat that devours the lazy, and an ogress who cooks and eats disobedient children for her Christmas dinner.

Ho ho ho, kids! If you like the stories Santa is telling, tell your friends and family about the Spooky Santa podcast so they can listen too!

STORY AND MUSIC CREDITS/SOURCES…
“Christmas Monsters”: https://tinyurl.com/stczesl
“Ruby’s Revenge” by Izzie, age 11 in Kensignton: https://tinyurl.com/sanns5y
“North Pole Coal” by Patrick Hueller: https://tinyurl.com/wkp7uu6
All music used with permission of the artists. Spooky Santa theme by Midnight Syndicate (http://amzn.to/2BYCoXZ). All other music by Nicolas Gasparini (http://bit.ly/2LykK0g).

***Spooky Santa™ and Weird Darkness® are creations and trademarks of Marlar House Productions and Weird Darkness, LLC. Copyright © Weird Darkness, 2024

"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." — John 12:46

https://weirddarkness.com/ChristmasMonsters

#WeirdDarkness #Krampus #ChristmasMonsters #ScaryChristmas #HolidayHorror #CreepyChristmas #DarkFolklore #YuleCat #AntiSanta #EuropeanFolklore

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:03):
Because Steins Spokstein was scary time. I'm dreaming of a
fright Christmas suit. Hello children, it's Santa here for another

(00:27):
episode of Spooky Santa. I have some scary stories to
share with you once again. But be sure to ask
your parents before you listen. I know if you've been
bad or good, so don't listen before talking to your
parents for goodness sake. Coming up in today's episode a

(00:48):
friend of mine, Patrick Huhler, he wrote a story a
few years ago called North Pole Cole and Well, ever
since he wrote it, it's been one of my favorite, scary,
crisp the stories to tell ever since. I also have
a special story that was emailed to me from one
of the ladies on my good list. Izzy is eleven

(01:10):
years old. She lives in Kensington, England, and she wrote
a story called Ruby's Revenge and she says that it
came from a dream that she had or maybe it
was a nightmare. And remember, if you want to write
a scary story of your own, you can email it
to letters at Spookysanta dot com and I might read

(01:30):
your story in an upcoming episode. But first, Christmas isn't
celebrated the same way around the world. In some places,
they not only get a visit from Me, but also
from Christmas monsters. I'll tell you some of the most
notorious and dangerous Christmas monsters to be wary of during
the holidays. Now, bult your doors, lock your windows, turn

(01:55):
off your lights, pour a mug of hot coco. It's magic,
you know, and come with Spooky Santa for another holiday chiller.

(02:26):
These are some of the scariest Christmas monsters from around
the world. Every country has different customs during their Christmas season.
Some of these customs have their roots in ancient pagan beliefs.
Different monsters live in different parts of the world, and
parents will often tell their children about them to encourage
children to behave or not only will they not get

(02:49):
presents and gifts from me, but a Christmas monster might
come and kidnap them. First is Crampis. You've probably heard
of Crampus. He's fairly popular right now. He is an
evil demon, anti Santa, or maybe even my evil twin.
Some say he's used as a tool to encourage good

(03:11):
behavior in children. Crampis Night is actually celebrated on December fifth,
the eve of Saint Nicholas Day, my day in Austria
and other parts of Europe. And of course there's Christmas
Eve and Christmas Day for others, but I get a
special day just for me, December sixth, and Crampis gets
a special day for him December fifth. Public celebrations on

(03:34):
December fifth have many Crampuses walking the streets looking for
people to beat up. Crampis may look like a devil
or like a wild alpine beast. Up next is Julicaturin.
Julicaturin is an Icelandic Yule cat or Christmas cat, and
he is not a nice cat at all. In fact,

(03:56):
he might eat you. He's tied to an Iceland tradition
in which those who finish all of their work on
time receive new clothes for Christmas, while those who were
lazy did not. Although that's mainly a threat to encourage
children to work hard. Parents will tell the tale of
the Yule Cat, saying that Jolicaturan could tell who the

(04:19):
lazy children were because they did not have at least
one new item of clothing for Christmas, and these children
would be sacrificed to the Yule cat. Frau Perchda is
in Germany and Austria. Frau Perchda is sometimes seen as
a witch who hands out both rewards and punishments during

(04:40):
the twelve days of Christmas. She's best known for her
gruesome punishment of the sinful. She will rip out your
internal organs and replace them with garbage. The ugly image
of Frau Perchda might show up at Christmas processions and
parades in Austria, kind of like what Crampus does. Hans
I told you about yesterday, but just in case you

(05:03):
missed it. Hans is another anti Santa who hands out
punishment to bad children in the Alsace Silaerine regions of France.
The legend says that Hans' trap used to be a
real man, a rich, greedy evil man who worshiped Satan
and was excommunicated from the Catholic Church. He was exiled

(05:24):
into the forest where he preyed upon children, disguised as
a scarecrow with straw jutting out from his clothing. He
was about to eat one boy he captured when he
was struck by lightning and killed, a punishment of his
own from God. Still, he visits young children before Christmas,
dressed as a scarecrow to scare them into good behavior.

(05:49):
Jolapuki is in Finland and they have Jolapuki who is
similar to Crampus. He has horns and hoofs like some
kind of demonic goat, and he loves to beat naughty
children with a tree branch until their backsides are bleeding.
He comes to your house and he asks are there
any good children here? He doesn't bother giving out presents. Instead,

(06:13):
you have to give him presents or he will beat you.
No worries, I don't do that. And then there are
the Yule Lads. There are thirteen Icelandic trolls, and each
one has a name and distinct personality. In ancient times,
the Yule Lads stole things and caused trouble around Christmas time,

(06:37):
so they were used to scare children into behaving, much
like the Yule cat. However, in the twentieth century I
came on the scene and the traditions mingled until the
formerly devilish Yule Lads became kind enough to leave gifts
in shoes that children left out if they were good
boys and girls. So the Yule Lads used to be

(07:00):
very angry and scary and evil. Nowadays they actually helped me,
which is nice, and then finally there is Griila. All
the yule Lads answer to Griyla, who is their mother.
She predates the Yule Lads in Icelandic legend as the
ogress who kidnaps, cooks, and eats children who don't obey

(07:23):
their parents. She only became associated with Christmas in the
seventeenth century, when she was assigned to be the mother
of the yule Lands. According to legend, Griila had three
different husbands and seventy two children, all who caused trouble
ranging from harmless mischief to murder. Needless to say, none

(07:44):
of those seventy two children ever made it onto my
good list. Up next, I'll share a very special story
that one of my good children emailed to me just
the other day. He gets a teamail every day. Here's

(08:05):
your MS. Welcome back to Spooky Santa. Have you ever
had a dream that you thought would make a really
good story, maybe a really scary story, if you had
a nightmare. Well, Izzy lives in Kensington, England. She's eleven
years old and that's exactly what happened to her. She

(08:28):
had a very disturbing dream and she decided to write
the story down it's called Ruby's Revenge. Here's the story.
This is my story, a story that has to be told,
even if it's never believed. My name is Taylor Carter
and I'm seventeen years old. Something terrible happened to me

(08:50):
two years ago. It all began when my mother died
and my father insisted that we move away to a
new home and a new life. And this is where
this begins. We had been a happy, chaotic family living
in a busy London street. My father was a banker,
and my mother and I spent every spare moment together

(09:12):
with my older brother Jason. Everyone used to say that
my mom and I were more like sisters, but to me,
she was my mother and my best friend. She had
always been there for me when times were hard at
school or Dad was very strict. Dad and I had
never been as close as I was to my mother,

(09:33):
but Jason and my father have always been very close.
I loved my brother and my dad very much, but
life was never the same without Mom. I'll never forget
the day my mother died. It was so sudden and
so horrific. She had a terrible car crash, but there
were no other cars involved. The police said that it

(09:56):
was one of the worst crashes they had ever seen,
and they couldn't understand how it happened. My friends tried
to help me, but even they couldn't reach me, and
they couldn't be there like my mother was. I liked
living in London. I enjoyed shopping on Saturday mornings with
my mom. I liked going for pizza on Sundays with

(10:18):
my family, and playing ball with my brother Jason, and
just doing normal things. Dad sitting at the kitchen table
with a paper, Jason strumming on his guitar, Me playing
with my rabbits, and Mom just being Mum. She was
helping or cooking, or smiling or just being there. Now

(10:39):
she was gone and there was nothing anyone could do
about it. Dad packed us up and moved us out quickly.
He had a great, big broken heart, and he was
pretending to be strong. He wanted us to like the
new house so much, and it was beautiful. It wasn't
a house at all, but a dear little cottage tucked

(11:01):
in the woods with roses and ivy, just how you
might imagine a cottage to be. But from the moment
we moved in, it was as if I could feel
something watching me, and it wasn't something nice. I felt cold,
I had shivers, and sometimes I thought I saw a
flash of light, but that it was gone. At night,

(11:23):
I couldn't sleep. I heard bumps and mumbles, and I
started to sleep with a light on every night, and
then I put my chair against the door. One night,
I ran to Jason's room. I had heard talking and laughing,
and I was very afraid. I woke Jason up, but
he told me to go away and told me that
I was being a stupid baby. He locked me out

(11:47):
of his room. I returned to my room. It still
smelled of new paint. I could see the dad's light
was off and he was probably still asleep. I couldn't
stand the thought of yet another night lying in that
bed hearing those strange voices. I found the panic rising
in my throat, and I knew I had to go

(12:09):
get a drink of water, so I crept downstairs. The
voices were getting louder, and there was a strange scrunching noise,
like paper being screwed up into a tiny ball. The
hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.
As I entered the kitchen, it was cold, and there
they were, two old ladies taking tea in my kitchen

(12:31):
at one thirty am, with this terrible child sitting beside them.
She looked about ten, maybe older. She was so thin
you could see her bones, and she was wearing a
white mighty stained with blood. It was her eyes that
were the most terrible. I have never seen such eyes.

(12:53):
She kept her head down and her long dark hair
hung in clumps around her face, which was covered in
so Who were they? The two old ladies were so
warm and homely looking, wearing old fashioned nightgowns. Their hair
slightly graying, was falling from their nightcaps. They had rosy
red cheeks and looked so real. I felt safe with them.

(13:17):
I wanted them to hold me in their arms. But
the child, she was hunched over so that I could
barely see her face. She was cutting and pasting, and
cutting and pasting, and rocking and mumbling. I think she
was humming a nursery rhyme, over and over, faster and faster.
I couldn't even look, but I caught her eyes once,

(13:39):
and they were black to the core. I have never
seen such sadness as I did in those eyes. The
old ladies tried to get me to sit down, and
I wanted to join them, truly I did, but well,
I was too afraid and I was finding it hard
to breathe. I stumbled back up to bed. Was a

(14:00):
good omen or a bad one. Every night for the
next two weeks I went downstairs and there they were.
It was always the same. I would sit for a
while with the two old ladies, feeling safe and peaceful,
but the child would always be there, twitching and cutting
and mumbling, always the same nursery rhyme, never looking up,

(14:23):
always cutting from the newspapers that she kept on the table,
sticking into her little notebook, over and over again. When
last Thursday I went down there and instead of having tea,
the old ladies were pointing to the window as if
they were trying to tell me something. I was scared.
The next morning, Dad suggested I went to the village hall,

(14:44):
where some of the village children were meeting up. I
was excited and feeling happier that day. I was keen
to make some new friends. But when I got there,
it was the complete opposite. Everyone ignored me. It was
as though I wasn't even there. I was just about
to leave when a girl with freckles in a nice
smile asked me, Hey, why are you leaving so fast?

(15:08):
I sat down and we started to chat. Her name
was Amelia, and she was very lovely. Her dad lived
in the manor house and he knew all the history
of the village from the days of the Romans. I
wanted to open up to her and tell her everything
that had happened in the past year, but then I
didn't need to. She took me up to her dad

(15:28):
and told him to tell me the story of the
vander Villiers who had lived in our house. And this
is what he told me. In eighteen fifteen, the manner
was owned by Lord vander Levis John and his charming
wife Celia. They were so happy, and he was tall
and handsome. She was petite, with blonde hair and beautiful curls.

(15:51):
She had huge blue eyes and was known for her
kindness and her twinkly smile. They'd been happily married for
six months when he became pregnant, and nothing could spoil
their happiness. They had great expectations for their child, a boy,
they hoped, and they had painted the nursery and chosen
the nanny. The tutor was lined up, and the house

(16:13):
was happy, with a butler, the chambermaid, the cook, and
the groom, all humming and laughing, a big, happy house.
And then she died. Celia died giving birth to Ruby,
not a boy, but a girl, and John never forgave Ruby. She,
in his mind, had killed his wife, his beloved, and

(16:36):
he hated that baby with all his heart. He couldn't
even look at her, and had her sent from the
house in the dead of night to a terrible poorhouse
in London. The baby was never heard from again. Lord
John stripped the house bare. He burned the curtains and
pulled the wallpaper from the walls with his bare hands.

(16:56):
Any memory of Celia was wiped away. Lord John eventually remarried.
She was a lovely country girl named Clementine. The house
was redecorated from head to toe, and nothing of Celia remained.
Clementine never asked of Celia, and didn't even know of
the baby that had been sent away, for she would

(17:19):
not have allowed it if she had known. She was kind,
her heart was pure. She gave birth to twins, the sweetest,
loveliest little girls you could ever wish for, Lulu and Tillie,
Lord Vandavillier's life was complete until the day he received
a telegram. Ruby had passed away of consumption. She was

(17:42):
only twelve years old. Where was the body to be delivered,
the telegram asked. Lord John felt no shame or pity,
just relief. Her body was delivered in the dead of
night in a little wooden crate with no name, and
he took it with his head gardener by candlelight down
to the cottage in the woods. They dug a deep,

(18:03):
lonely grave and threw her carelessly into it. Lord John
walked away, and he never looked back. The gardener, however,
liked a pint of beer at his local pub. He
drank a lot and talked a lot, maybe a bit
too much. The story got out, but no one really
knew if the story was true, but they never crossed

(18:26):
Lord John. Many years later, Lulu and Tilley, the two
lovely sisters, moved into that cottage. They had married and
had children long before. They were old and widowed, and
Lord John had left them the cottage in the woods
in his will. The twins were jolly and warm, and
everybody loved them. They sat by their fire drinking cups

(18:49):
of tea, and they had cake, and lots of people
came to visit. They fed the poor. They were good,
kind people. The sisters died in that cottage peacefully in
their sleep, one month apart, and the cottage sat empty
for many years until a long lost nephew of Lord
John inherited it and needed a place to stay and quick.

(19:13):
That person, of course, was my father. I was in
total shock. I said I had to go, and I
ran home as fast as I could. I wanted to
see my brother and to make sure that he was okay.
Where was this child Ruby buried? I had to know,
But Jason was out with Dad and I was all alone.

(19:34):
I knew I had to do it. The pressure was unbearable.
I had to look. I went down to the deepest
part of the garden, just where the forest begins. I
looked around. The forest was empty, but then I saw it,
a mound of grass and earth where nothing grew. It
was like a bare desert landscape, and I just knew

(19:57):
that it was there. I had found Ruby's grave. I
could feel it in my bones. I felt cold to
my very core. I start to run and the tears
start to fall. For a little girl nobody loved. For
of course I knew it was her, that terrible creature
who sat there night after night with her stepsisters. But

(20:20):
what was she doing, why was she there? And what
did this mean for me? That night I went downstairs.
I knew I had to see her. She was again
cutting and pasting as always. The dear old ladies smiled.
I smiled back, but I could see now they were worried.
I think they knew that I knew. And then I

(20:44):
saw that they were pushing a little pad that she
kept all her cuttings in over to me, and they
wanted me to read it. I was afraid, but I
took it and hid it in my hoodie. I crept upstairs,
and what I read filled me with horror. It was
full of pictures and clippings from the newspapers, terrible deaths,

(21:04):
freak accidents, my mother's accident. They were all in there,
first the picture of the person, and then the clipping
from the newspaper. My mother's death was in there. She
ruby had killed my mother. I felt myself slipping to
the floor. The puzzle had come together. The ghosts of

(21:25):
these three sisters were living in this house. Every person
that had died in that book had somehow been related
to a member of the Vandervilliers, including my mother, and
as I turned the page, I knew what I would
find there. It was my picture I was to be next.

(21:46):
I ran into my father's room and woke him up,
sobbing and crying. I told him my story and he
was wonderful. I tried to find the book to show him,
but it had disappeared. But he listened and he held
me close. All I know, Taylor, he said, is that
this little family has been through a lot, and this
isn't the right place for us. We need bright lights

(22:08):
and the big city. We're going back to London. I
can't say that I believe your story, but I love you,
and something here is not right. I tried to show
him the little notebook, but it was gone, and he
just hushed me back to sleep. I slept with him
all the rest of that night, and the next morning
we were on a train to London. I've never loved

(22:29):
him more. I knew how much you had to appreciate
the people you have and love, because one day they
could just disappear. Dad called a priest who went in
and blessed the cottage. He laughed when I asked him
to do so, but he did it all the same.
He said he would leave it to me and Jason
in his will, but I told him I never want

(22:51):
to set foot in that cottage again. Two years later,
I was enjoying a happy life in London. Amelia and
I kept in touch, and she told me that a
really lovely couple had moved into the cottage with their
daughter Milly. She had brought a little Shetland with her
and they were really happy. I tried not to worry

(23:12):
for them. One Sunday morning, I saw my father's face
go pale as he read the Sunday newspaper. His hands
began to shake, and I saw him trying to hide
what he was reading. Jason asked him what was wrong.
His face was strained, nothing, he said. I grabbed the
paper and ran to my room and there it was

(23:34):
horrendous accident in sleepy Gloucestershire village. Talented junior champion writer
Millie Thornton killed in freak writing accident when pony trampled
owner and broke her back. Jason snatched the paper from me.
It's a coincidence. He kept saying, calm down, it's your imagination. Dad,
I screamed, who were they? The family that moved into

(23:56):
the cottage. They must have been related to you. Why
didn't you listen? They were distantly related. This is madness,
he cried, madness. All this happened two years ago, and
the cottage has been knocked down. We own a little
plot of land, and Dad says that he will sell
it someday. But I know that he knows better. He

(24:18):
ripped up the deeds that he burnt, the papers, That
little grave has found its resting place, and God rest
Ruby's soul. It's hard to believe that story was written
by an eleven year old. Very well written, is he?
Thank you so much for sharing. And if you have
another dream, you need to write it down. You have

(24:40):
a future as an author. Up next, I'll share one
of my favorite holiday stories. It's called North Pole Coal.
That story is up next. Are you ready for my

(25:01):
final story? This is a favorite of mine. I read
it for the first time several years ago, and I
like to read it every year. It's one of my
personal favorites, and I believe it'll be one of yours.
Once you hear it. It's written by Patrick Hueller. It's
called North Pole Coal. Here's the story. I don't understand.

(25:26):
Caleb tilted his Christmas stockings so his parents could see.
What is this. His parents didn't answer right away, and
then his mother said coal. Yes. His father quickly agreed,
that's what it is. Coal. They sat stiffly on the couch.
He stared at the strange dust I don't understand, Caleb repeated.

(25:48):
He was only six years old. There was a lot
he didn't understand. Why did Santa put coal in my
stocking because you were naughty this year? His father said, Mar,
that's a little harsh, don't you think. His mother said, no, Lisa,
I don't. This was something Caleb did understand. He called

(26:09):
his mother and father mom and dad, but they called
each other Lisa and Mark. When you're naughty, his dad said,
Sanna puts coal in your stocking. How was I naughty?
Caleb asked. His parents thought about that for a while. Well,
there was the time you didn't take turns on the
swing sets at daycare, his father said, Or in front

(26:31):
of the TV. His mother said, missus Julie said, you
had a tantrum when someone tried to watch a different show.
Missus Julie took care of Caleb during the day. She said,
you didn't say thank you during snack time. Caleb's father
reminded him or say anything nice to Leo when he
was hurt. His mother added, I don't understand. Caleb said

(26:55):
that was his favorite sentence just by seeing it, I
don't understand, and people would explain the world to him.
It wasn't always easy. It took time, but eventually he
ended up learning something brand new about the world just
by saying, I don't understand. When you did those things,
you weren't being a nice boy. His father explained, Is

(27:17):
this really necessary? His mother said, yes, it is. His
father said, he needs to know that naughty is the
opposite of nice. Caleb already understood that. What he didn't
understand was why his parents' faces were wet with tears
or why his mother had started to whisper. He needs
to realize, his father said that there are consequences to

(27:40):
being naughty. Caleb thought of the charcoal his parents used
when they barbecued during the summer, little black nuggets poured
and piled in the grill. Wasn't that the same stuff
that was in his stocking. Why is this cole white?
Caleb asked. When his parents didn't add sir right away,

(28:01):
Caleb said, isn't coal black? Most coal is? His mother
assured him. Her eyes were tearing up again. But this
is north Pole coal exactly. His father agreed, north Pole
coal is special. It's white like the snow, his mother added.

(28:23):
Caleb was glad he'd asked the question. It felt good
knowing something that he didn't know before. But really, his
mother said to his father, is this fair? She was
whispering again. Fair has nothing to do with it. His
father said, Still, Caleb's only six. His mother said, he's
almost seven. His father said that was true. Caleb couldn't

(28:46):
wait to turn seven, then he'd be old enough and
have all the answers. But getting coal for not sharing?
His mother said, not sharing as bad as father said,
I guess so. His mother whispered. I mean, it's not good.
But he's just a boy. He's old enough to understand
right from wrong, Lisa. And it isn't just the not sharing,

(29:08):
it's the other stuff too. Not saying thank you during
snack time? Is that really so unusual? Miss Julie was
very clear on her expectations. His father said, but this
is just normal kid behavior. His mother said, sh he'll
hear you. Do you want to get on his naughty
list too. He's even less lenient with adults. You know that. Sorry,

(29:33):
it's it's not like Caleb heard anyone. It was the
Pettinger boy who hit Leo. Let's not talk about that.
His father said, imagine what the Pettinger's boy's parents are
dealing with right now. It's a lot worse than coal
in a stocking. They were both whispering now and shivering.
The house was warm, so why were they shivering. Before

(29:55):
Caleb had a chance to ask, his parents started talking again.
It's it's terrible, his mother whispered, Leo was pretty beat up.
His father reminded her. That doesn't mean her voice trailed off.
There have to be consequences to actions, Lisa, I know,
but to lose their son, it's always been this way.

(30:16):
Naughty behavior means cool, really nasty behavior means his voice
trailed off as well. I don't understand, Caleb said, are
you talking about Jimmy? Caleb was pretty sure Jimmy's last
name was Pettinger. His parents lost him. Where do you
think he went. He waited for his parents to respond,

(30:39):
but they didn't. They looked at him for a while
in silence, tears streaming down their faces. Then they looked down,
avoiding his gaze. Caleb looked down too, into his stocking,
and that is when he saw it. An object, No,
just a fragment of an object. He reached into the

(31:00):
stocking and pulled it out. It wasn't quite as white
as the dust. It was more gray. It was h
Why is there a bone in my stocking? Caleb said.
Once again, they didn't answer or even look at him.
Caleb wasn't looking at them either. He was thinking about

(31:22):
where bones come from. They were in the turkey his
family had eaten on Thanksgiving. They were in the fish
he caught last summer. Yes, that's where bones were in things,
dead things. They were in a live things too, but
you couldn't really see them. Then his eyes wandered to
the mantelpiece above the fireplace, where the urn was. Where

(31:47):
she was his great grandmother. His parents had explained to
him a few months ago, right after his great grandmother
had died, Right after they'd put the on the mantelpiece,
they'd explained what was in the urn. Who was in
the urn? Caleb stared at it for a few moments,

(32:09):
and then peered into his stocking again. A chill lanced
up his spine. What happened to Jimmy? He asked his parents,
what happens to really nasty children? They still didn't answer him.
What he didn't need them to. He already knew he

(32:29):
understood exactly what was going on, and for the first
time in his life, he wished he didn't. Oh, and
is a creepy story. By the way, don't worry. That's

(32:53):
not how things actually work. If you are on my
nauty list, I would never do something that horrid. You
might get cold, but that's all. If you're going to
be punished in any way, that would be for your
parents to decide. Not Santa. My job is delivering presents
and gifts to all the good children in the world. Wow,

(33:15):
did you like the stories I told? If so, do
Santa Claus a favor. Tell your friends and family members
about Spooky Santa so they can listen to and remember,
you can write your own scary story and email it
to me at letters at Spookysanta dot com. If you
want to learn more about the stories that I've told

(33:36):
or the authors who wrote them. You can find links
in this episode's show notes. Spooky Santa is a registered
trademark of Marler House Productions, Copyright Marler House Productions, twenty nineteen.
And now, be a good little girl or boy and
join me next time for more creepy tales from Spooky Santa.

(33:57):
Oh start