The other reindeer made fun of Rudolph and wouldn’t let him play in their reindeer games.
So, Rudolph hung out with ghetto elves on the South side of the North Pole.
Which, if you know your geography, is all around the North Pole.
They had the North Pole surrounded.
When the other reindeer went into the ghetto to get the drugs that let them fly, Rudolph and the ghetto elves played The Knockout Game with them.
Down went Donner. And Cupid. And Comet. And Vixen.
The gang took their fancy harnesses and shiny silver bells.
Silver bells. Ting a ling.
Category: My stories
Christmas Party
Every year, the company has a Christmas Party, but it’s earlier and earlier every year.
“All the good places get booked in advance,” says the owner of the company. “So, it’s harder and harder to book a place for the holidays.”
Which doesn’t make sense, because the company is a restaurant management company.
We own and manage restaurants. Some of the best in the country. And we can’t book one for the holidays?
“We could,” says the owner. “But they pay more than we do for a banquet room.”
You know, that makes less sense than Christmas in fucking March.
No such thing
There is no such thing as Santa.
Well, not anymore.
The real Santa died centuries ago.
Ever since then, a series of impostors took his place, dressing up and playing the part.
Some did it well. Others did it just for the thrill. Or to escape justice.
The elves covered for the bad ones. They pretty much run the show, these days.
Santa’s a symbol. A figurehead. A patsy.
It’s the elves you need to keep a watch for.
Santa, you see everywhere.
“Helpers” you see too.
But true elves?
Never. Nobody sees them.
And lives to talk about it.
It’s A Wonderful Ending
After the party ended and everyone left, Mary put the kids to bed.
George Bailey counted the money again.
It was more than enough to cover the savings and loan.
Perfect.
“I’ll take care of that,” said Uncle Billy, scooping the stacks of money into a basket.
“Fuck no, you goddamned stupid drunk!” shouted George. “You’ve fucked this family for the last time!”
George took Billy’s keys away. “You’re fired!”
Then, he had Bert the cop drive him into town so he could put the money in the safe.
“Merry Christmas, savings and loan,” he mumbled. “Take me home, Bert.”
Dear Santa
Dear Santa,
A lot of my friends are sad, worried, and afraid.
And I can’t do anything about them.
But tell them I’m sorry, which doesn’t really help.
Maybe instead of going around the world
And leaving presents for all the good boys and girls
You could go around and collect up all the sadness
And worry. And stress. And fear.
Collect them all up in your bag
And then fly out over the deepest ocean
Or the South Pole
And dump them over the side of the sleigh.
Oh, and pick up newspapers and soda cans
For recycling, too.
Cereal Gift
You can buy Lucky Charms marshmallows by the bag from some online store.
So, I gave these to my son as a Christmas gift.
I put a note on the bag “Santa had the elves pick these out of 20 cereal boxes. Then he gave the crappy cereal to an orphanage full of bad children.”
My son then proceeded to act like a dickhead to his little sister.
That’s when the bag of marshmallow bits vanished, and another note appeared:
“Santa gave your address to the kids in the orphanage. And baseball bats.”
He’s hiding in the basement, behaving himself.
Young Mary
Young Mary had a dream. An angel told her that she was pregnant with God’s baby.
“But I’m a virgin,” she said.
The angel shrugged. “The Boss likes ’em young.”
Her family tried to get her to see a doctor, but she didn’t want them anywhere near her miracle baby.
“God will take care of His child,” she said.
As her belly grew larger, Mary grew weaker.
Until one day, she was dead.
The baby turned out to be a rapidly-growing tumor in her intestinal tract.
Nobody wanted to be the first to ask for their baby shower gift back.
Santa Survives
Santa Claus watched horrors spread across the globe.
Humanity completely lost its shit all at once, and aside from a few hundred thousand survivors, every society had collapsed. The toxic clouds and radiation waves would finish the rest off soon enough.
Santa tore up his naughty and nice lists, and set his elves to working on a space ship.
“We’ll set up shop on the moon or Mars,” he said.
The elves made a spaceship.
A toy spaceship.
“Fuck,” murmured Claus, and he coughed up some blood.
The elves fought over the remaining reindeer meat before they got sick too.
Geronimo
It started with accusations of slave labor.
Then, reports came out that he’d molested some kids.
The final straw was when CIA evidence proved the workshops were producing chemical weapons for Syria.
“Santa’s been very bad this year,” said the president. “Let’s go get him.”
The United Nations Security Council was useless.
China had the toy contracts, and threatened to veto any action.
While the world debated, Special Forces flew in and got their man.
“You’re all on my naughty list now,” was the last thing he said.
The investigatior’s report said that he died from an elf-inflicted gunshot wound.
Spoiled Milk
It’s Christmas Eve.
Most people leave milk and cookies out for Santa.
“It’s a tradition,” they say.
“Doesn’t the milk spoil out there?” the children ask.
Does Santa like spoiled milk?
No, he doesn’t.
People aren’t keeping the tradition right.
It’s not supposed to be a glass of milk out on the mantelpiece.
Santa wanted fresh milk.
Not from a cow, though.
“What a lovely baby,” Santa would say. “I might have a gift for them.”
Kid can only suckle one side at a time, right?
Maybe when he’s done, he might want your cookie.
And that’s how traditions start.