Here in the U.S., we’re finally through the stuff-your-face holiday — and you know what that means. The dark gods of Capitalism get to haul out their blackjack and lay it across our collective faces a few dozen times. That’s right: it’s Christmas, friends. Time to start consuming.
You know who else wants to consume this holiday season?
Who is Nackles, you ask? As described by crime author Donald E. Westlake writing under his occasional pseudonym Curt Clark in his 1964 short story of the same name:
Nackles is to Santa Claus what Satan is to God, what Ahriman is to Ahura Mazda, what the North Wind is to the South Wind. Nackles is the new Evil.
…And what does Nackles do? Nackles lives on the flesh of little boys and girls…