Uncle Crimbo's Fallout Shelter

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Uncle Crimbo's Fallout Shelter

Uncle Crimbo's Fallout Shelter was located in Crimbo Town

  • Before December 25th, 2008, and after the appearance of A Mysterious Crate on January 6th, 2009:
You bang on the hatch, but there's no answer. Guess nobody's home.
  • First time on or after December 25th, 2008:
Merry Crimbo!
Merry Crimbo!
  • Subsequent times before January 1st, 2009:

Uncle Crimbo glares at you.

"Listen, kid, I appreciate what you did for me back there, and I appreciate you not making good on your threat to turn me in to the mob. But I ain't made of presents, and you got yours. So buzz off and quit interrupting my stories, or I'll leave a lump of coal in your stocking next year, and I'll light it on fire first."

  • Between January 1st and 6th, 2009
Change We Can't Quite Believe In

You hear raised voices as you near the fallout shelter, so you ease the door open and sneak down the ladder to listen.

You see Uncle Crimbo on his knees in front of a penguin in a fedora. "Please, Don Pygoscelis," Crimbo says, "if you won't help me, Crimbo is screwed."

Don Pygoscelis gives Uncle Crimbo a resounding open-flippered smack across the face, then lights up a stogie. "Forgive me for that regrettable display of violence," he says, "but the facts in the case are these: my organization lent, in good trust, a not-inconsiderate sum of meat to you, with the expectation that we would get a substantial return on our investment. The reason for my uncharacteristic pique, then, is that not only have we received no satisfaction vis a vis our arrangement, and not only is it clear that you never intended to provide said satisfaction, not only that but we have suffered substantial losses in manpower and merchandise in our attempts to ensure repayment of your debt. And now, as a direct result of your underhandedness and incompetence, you have an even bigger problem than owing a substantial stack of meat to a vicious mob -- er, legitimate business enterprise. Having caused me no end of grief, and, on a more personal note, horrifically abused my trust, you ask me for help?"

"Yeah, I know I screwed you over," Uncle Crimbo says, "and I'm sorry, for what it's worth. I really thought Taxidermy Most Foul was a shoo-in to win that last race; I had a hot tip from the stableboy. Hey, quit snickering, I meant he told me what horse to bet on. If that horse had come in, I would have tripled your money for you." Uncle Crimbo sighs, scratches his beard, and belches. "Anyway, the point is, you guys are the only ones with enough firepower to take out that monstrosity over at the Grimacite factory. If you don't help me, it'll break loose and it'll end up being your problem, anyway. And besides, think of what I'm offering you . . . you can't lose!"

The Don smacks Uncle Crimbo again, with the other flipper this time. "In that case, I accept your terms."

Uncle Crimbo rubs his cheek. "What was that for, then?"

"I just like hitting you. In fact, I tend to enjoy hitting just about anyone. Call it an endearing eccentricity. Now, if we have an arrangement, hand over your badge of office."

Uncle Crimbo takes off his red-and-white, fur-trimmed hat and hands it to the Don, who doffs his fedora and puts it on. "Don we now our gay apparel," the Don says, smirking (which is no mean feat with a beak). "You have 48 hours to get out of my Crimbo Town. Tell the elves that should they wish to continue their employment, my association welcomes them. Should they wish to leave, they'd better look over one shoulder while they do so. It would be a shame if anything happened to them." The Don grabs a bottle of peppermint schnapps and takes a swig. You notice that he's already got the beginnings of a festive white beard. "I won't say it's been a pleasure doing business with you, Uncle Hobo," he says, "because I find deceit distasteful. Nevertheless, good luck with your future endeavors."

"Thank you . . . Don Crimbo." Uncle Hobo picks himself off the floor and turns to leave, and you flee the fallout shelter before you're discovered.


  • The title of the January 1, 2009 encounter is a reference to Barack Obama's presidential campaign slogan, "Change We Can Believe In".